Scandal's Child by Ann Major

Scandal's Child by Ann Major

Author:Ann Major
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance
ISBN: 9781942473169
Publisher: Ann Major
Published: 2016-07-22T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter Nine

They didn’t sail, at least not that night. They went to his boat and changed clothes, taking turns using the tiny cabin. She never asked who the jeans and blouse he got for her from his locker belonged to. She was too glad to be rid of the confining gown and heavy diamonds.

After they changed, he took her to Mannie’s on the lakeshore. Before they ate, he led her back to the kitchen where Mannie was dashing around inspecting trays of food while she lifted the lid of steaming pots of crabs and crawfish.

Suddenly one of the cook’s skillets began to smoke. Mannie dashed to it. “Anytime you see some smoke coming from your roux, throw it out, or you be sorry. A burned roux looks good, and the bad cook, she’ll try to sneak it by, but it just spoil her crab and her fish.”

“Look who I brought, Mama.”

Mannie put the skillet down and hugged Noelle affectionately. “I missed you, chere. We had some hard times, yes. But the good times, they come back. I’m fatter, yes?”

The roll around her waist was indeed rounder.

“No. You’re more beautiful than ever.”

“You sweet liar, chere.” Mannie turned to her son. “She’s too skinny. You two stay and eat, yes?”

Despite the line waiting for tables, Mannie led Noelle and Garret to a table by a window with a view of the lake. Above them a ceiling fan turned lazily. Garret asked for a beer and gumbo. Noelle had a bowl of bouillabaisse and garlic toast. Somebody kept putting quarters into the jukebox, playing blues music. The meal was wonderful. It reminded Noelle of her childhood when Mannie had been the Martin cook.

While they ate, Noelle and Garret talked. About everything—politics and the state’s corruption, books, sailing, antiques, law enforcement—everything except themselves. There would be time for that later.

At last he said, “You’re everything your family wanted you to be when they broke us up and sent you away to those fancy schools. You’re beautiful, cultured—a social star. You even run your mama’s business.”

“Yes.” At that moment she was wondering if she’d ever really cared about any of it.

“And I’m a cop. A detective. A good one.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“I was proud of me, too.” He smiled ruefully. “At least until Annie died. But even though I’m not the poor boy I was then, your father and grandmother wouldn’t want us to have a relationship any more now than they did back then.”

“No…” But she didn’t want to think about her family.

Sinking back in her chair, she let her new fears be lulled by the husky sound of a saxophone playing the blues.

Her gaze locked on his, and his black eyes took her back to that brief, idyllic summer when they’d realized they were in love, when they’d been cruelly separated by her family.

She’d never forgotten him. Not for one second. Her attachment to him had been much more than a mere flimsy, adolescent infatuation. Suddenly she realized that no matter how much she’d accomplished while she’d been away, she’d felt dead at the center.



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