Easy This Time - JH Croix Page 0,6
into tech investments and tendrils connecting him to various businesses all over the world, I knew he’d been involved in security planning on the tech side for Nash’s sprawling real estate investments in New Orleans. Rumor had it the man owned half of this Southern city.
It was only when I heard Nash saying, “You have a good afternoon now, Johnny,” and his gaze swung back to me that I realized I’d been staring.
When Nash’s gaze collided with mine, my pulse lunged, and my belly spun. Once again, I felt my cheeks get hot. I tried to tell myself I was rattled from such a bizarre morning, but my body wasn’t buying that argument.
“So,” Nash drawled, “do tell me what brought you to my office looking for not-your-Brett this morning, Mari?”
I traced my fingertips around the water glass set on the dark wooden table. For a moment, I considered coming up with some sort of explanation that wasn’t humiliating. But the reality was, I was well and done with Brett after his little stunt, so there was no sense in lying.
“Well, we came down for a weekend stay at a bed & breakfast. It was supposed to be a nice getaway because we’ve both been really busy. Now, he’s gone, and I have no idea where he is. He didn’t even pay for our stay, and I’m flat broke. To make a long story short, he’s an asshole. I thought perhaps I could track him down and at least give him hell. But it’s probably best if I let the whole thing go.”
Nash’s gaze held mine as he shook his head slowly. “I suppose I’m glad to know you’ve seen his true colors.”
“Oh, did you know Brett? I mean, beyond seeing him this morning.”
“I only met him this morning. Before he showed up unannounced, he reached out about an investment opportunity. As I do with any possible investments, I did some looking into his assets and discovered everything was fluff. I declined to meet with him, but he showed up anyway. I gave him five minutes and escorted him out. I can’t say I know him personally, but I can tell you his finances are nothing more than a game of smoke and mirrors.”
I stared at Nash, anger churning in my gut. Not anger with Nash, mind you. But fury with Brett. I might not know Nash Reynolds well, but I knew he had the resources to assess Brett’s supposed financial wizardry. If he thought it was all fluff, it likely was.
“You’re telling me—” I closed my eyes and shook my head. After a slow breath, I looked over at Nash. I felt like an idiot. “Never mind. It doesn’t really matter in the end. I’ll enjoy my lunch and get on with my life.”
Nash’s gaze swept over my face. It felt as if he could see right into me. Considering the events of the morning, I felt far more vulnerable than I preferred. Complicating matters was my body’s reaction to Nash. My body tingled under his intent focus, and a subtle heat suffused me. On the heels of a deep breath, I reached for my water and took another gulp.
Although I’d just blurted out the humiliating truth of my situation, Nash didn’t know the compounding layers of history behind it. When I had first started dating Brett, my older brother—my bossy, far too together, older brother—hadn’t liked him. Not one bit. In fact, Max had said he thought Brett was using me.
Because I could be stubborn, and because I didn’t want to believe Brett had been using me, I’d ignored Max’s opinion and continued dating Brett. It had only been a year, but the doubts sown by Max’s initial perception had never dissipated. As it was, Brett and I had drifted apart and hardly seen each other for the last few months.
This morning was a spectacular example of why Max had been exactly right. Blessedly, Nash was gracious enough not to push the subject any further. Another interruption from yet another business acquaintance of his gave me enough time to finish eating while he made small talk about some project in New Orleans.
Meanwhile, I was doing mental math, trying to calculate how I could scrape together the funds to cover the bill at Inn Boudreaux. I figured I was going to have to put it all on a credit card and hope for the best. When our waiter arrived, she asked if it was one check.
“Oh, no,” I replied, shaking