“She's here,” Minna Cancienne announced to Joe T. Evangeline over the intercom. “Security alerted me that she's in the elevator and should be up in a couple of minutes. Perhaps you need to straighten yourself up a bit?”
“She” being Julie Galjour.
The Guv glanced at his watch: 12:28. Their working-lunch date was for 12:30. Joe T. could add punctuality to the growing list of things he admired about Ms. Galjour. “Uh, Minna, I think I'm about as straightened up as I can be,” the Guv replied cheerfully. “Send her in.” A minute later Julie walked through the door. Joe T. realized not only how happy he was to see her but how interestingly renewable was her appearance.
“Governor, how nice to see you again,” she said, smiling.
Joe T. rose from his desk, walked around it, and shook her hand warmly. “Ms. Galjour, the pleasure is all mine. Thanks for coming. How about we sit there?” The Guv motioned to a nearby couch fronted by a coffee table.
“Excellent suggestion,” replied Julie. “Unless you've forgotten, I have lunch. We should probably eat first, before the sandwiches get cold. And I have iced tea, sweetened like Minna said you like it. By the way, I tried to get Minna to come in for lunch—given the size of these po'boys, I'm limiting myself to half. But she said she was busy. Governor, what a sweet woman.”
The Guv looked at Julie curiously. Was she putting him on?
“Ms. Galjour,” he replied, “I myself think the world of Minna and couldn't imagine managing my office without her. But you're the first person I've ever encountered to call Minna sweet.”
Julie smiled. “By the way, boil any crawfish since I saw you last? I understand you have a terrific new recipe.”
The Guv's mouth dropped open.
“You know the one thing that bugs me about your and Daddy's little conspiracy is that I don't even have that recipe,” Julie continued.
Joe T. regained his composure. “Hardly a conspiracy. I loved the crawfish that your dad cooked up, and he hates the channel as much as you do. As you can see, I drive quite a bargain.”
“Yes, I can see you do. It was a lovely gesture, Governor, and I'm glad you and my father bonded. Frankly, Daddy could use a new friend. He seems a little adrift in his semiretirement.”
The Guv nodded. He often found himself surrounded by new people desperately wanting to be his “friends,” but what most wanted was a favor of some kind or, at the very least, to extract some gain from the power of their association with him. But Julie's statement, expressed in her unaffected way, made the Guv ponder a startling thing: the possibility of real friendship.
The Guv was reaching for his po'boy when his intercom buzzed. He rose to answer it.
“Governor, I'm going to step away for about a half hour,” said Minna. “Now, don't think that means you can have Ms. Galjour overstay. I'll be back in plenty of time to get you out of here so you can keep your appointment. You have a ribbon cutting in Crowley after this.”
“Yes, ma'am,” Joe T. replied. “I believe we can manage.”
The Guv and Julie lunched amid casual banter, having decided by silent consensus to eat first and talk business later. The Guv kept trying to get Julie to talk about her childhood on the bayou, for having walked the Galjour farm he wanted a clearer picture of her there. Julie kept asking the Guv about his own family.
He found himself describing his pushy Cajun mother and his laid-back Cajun father in a gently chiding but affectionate way that somewhat surprised him (and would certainly have surprised his somewhat difficult mother). He even found himself saying surprisingly nice things about his baby brother, Jimmy T., while making it clear that Jimmy had been since birth—and was still—a handful.
It was in the middle of this easy exchange that Joe T. thought he heard a soft rapping on his door. If it was Minna, she had returned early. She didn't usually knock; she always buzzed first.
Curious.
He rose, strode to the door, and opened it.
It was Tracy Breaux, who'd clearly been crying.
She stumbled forward through the door, reaching for the Guv, and sobbing.
Joe T. stumbled back, horrified.
“Joe, oh, Joe, how could you do this to me? How could you?”
The Guv could not even find his voice.
“You said you'd call. You at least owed me a call. One stupid call, Joe! One stupid call!” Her sobbing intensified and she half collapsed onto his chest.
“I don't deserve just to be ditched, Joe. You owed me—what is that stupid word? Closure. You could've come by to see me. We could've talked about what happened. Whatever it was.”
She pushed herself away and glared at the Guv, her face a teary mess. “You know, you big lug, I thought I was pregnant. Don't worry—I'm not. But what a scandal that would've been, huh, Governor? The honorable Joe T. Evangeline knocking up his executive assistant or whatever I'm supposed to be. I'm not as shallow as you think I am. There are people who would've had a field day with that. But don't worry. I would've taken care of it. I could never ever hurt you, Joe, even though—even though you're a bastard. Even though—”
Tracy stopped and looked down.
Joe T. stepped back, looked at Tracy, saw the astonishing dimensions of the train wreck before him. Like a boxer staggered by an unseen left, the Guv had lost his bearings. He could only think to say, “Tracy, listen, I'm sorry. But this isn't the right time to talk about this. I'm, uh, in the middle of something.”
Tracy looked past Joe T. to see Julie Galjour sitting before the coffee table. “Ah, I see,” she said. “Well, you don't waste any time, do you, Governor? But of course you wouldn't. People warned me but I didn't listen.”
“Tracy, really,” the Guv replied. “It's—it's not like that. This was, uh, is, a working session.”
Tracy offered a rueful smile and spoke past the Guv to Julie. “Be careful of him, miss. We were in a lot of ‘working sessions’ together, too. He's a liar. It's actually worse than that—he doesn't even know what the truth is.”
If the Guv had been able to look, he would have seen Julie Galjour shrinking back upon the couch, her head down, trying to make herself smaller.
Tracy wiped tears from her face with her right hand and pulled herself upright. “Anyway, don't bother to call. I've said what I wanted to say. Trust me, there's nothing you could say or do that would ever make me feel better. Goodbye.” With that, she turned and walked slowly out of the door. Her perfume, like an unwelcome ghost, coiled in the air.
The Guv, a huge wave of regret and resignation washing over him, a wave tinged with anger at Minna for having deserted her post (for Minna surely would have spared him this moment), turned toward Julie Galjour wondering what on earth he would say.
He saw her already gathering up her things.
He fought for words. “You don't have to go,” he said. “Uh, it's not exactly as it seems. It's, uh—”
Julie nodded but didn't stop. She rose, her briefcase in her right hand.
He found himself reaching out, putting a hand on her arm. “I'd like to explain. I'd like to—”
She brushed his hand away, not rudely but firmly.
“Governor, please,” she said, “I should go. Nothing about what just happened needs to be explained to me. I've left you abundant backup material on the channel, and I've already copied in your people with e-mail. If you need anything more, have Minna call my secretary and we'll work it out.”
She strode purposefully toward the door.
“Please,” Joe T. found himself saying. “Don't go, Julie. Please. Almost everything about my life at the moment is a mess. Some of it—well, a great deal of it—is my own stupidity. I'd like to untangle it but I just don't know how, where to start, what to say or do. I, uh, thought maybe you …” He trailed off. This sounded so lame. He was suddenly out of words and exquisitely tired.
Julie stopped and turned toward him. Her face was unreadable. “You thought I might what?” she replied.
The Guv shook his head. “I dunno. Be my friend?”
“Your friend? Is that what you're seeking from me? My friendship?”
“Maybe.”
“You don't sound very certain.”
He shrugged. Why couldn't he say what he really wanted to say? Did he actually want to throw himself on the mercy of Julie Galjour's court? Tell her everything about his horribly fucked-up life?
Instead he said, more wearily than he intended, “I'm not very certain of anything at the moment, actually.”
“Hmm. Well, that's not very helpful. But, okay, I'll give you some friendly advice. Here's where I'd start. I'd go get things straight with that young woman. She doesn't need your charm or your platitudes. She needs you to tell her the truth, whatever it is.”
The Guv looked down, silent for a moment. “And what if the truth is that I was a cad—that I misbehaved badly?”
“Then you need to say that and apologize profusely. And you have to mean it.”
He smiled sheepishly, trying for a little humor. “I don't suppose you'd want to come with me?”
Julie shook her head as though she'd just heard the repentant pronouncement of a mischievous boy, and for the first time her visage softened, as did her voice. “No, Governor, you need to go take your medicine on your own. Like Daddy says, bitter pills sometimes have sweet results.”
“Does your father really say that?”
“Oh, yes, though the discussion is usually about livestock.”
“Ah, I see. And what sort of farm animal would that make me? A jackass?”
Julie looked at Joe T. intently. “Look, Governor, I don't know anything about the events that led to what just happened. I would rather not have been here, and I'm guessing you would rather I hadn't been here, either. Without taking sides, I can express some sympathy for your embarrassment. But you and I have important business to transact, and I would never let these events get in the way of that, okay?”
The Guv nodded. Well, this was at least something.
“Thank you, Julie,” he found himself saying. “And, of course, eye on the prize and all that. I meant what I said about the channel. We'll press ahead. In fact, we could, uh, continue now if you wanted to.”
The Guv wished that pronouncement had not come out so plaintively, but there it was.
Julie shook her head. “No, I think you need a break, Governor Evangeline. There's too much stuff in this room now. I'll be in touch with Minna and we can set something up later, all right?”
Joe T. could only nod.
With that, Julie Galjour shifted her briefcase to her left hand, turned, and walked through the door.