quite gel between them, not in a romantic way.
“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me, Arnaud. Thank you,” she said. “And yes, the tabloids seem to really enjoy making up an entirely different life for me. There’s one photographer who is the biggest pain in the neck. He loves to follow me around, take pictures when I’m unaware and then make up some ridiculous story behind the photograph.” She sighed. “He’s here in New Orleans and already dogging my every footstep.”
Arnaud turned back to brushing away dirt from the stones. “Can’t you file a harassment suit? There must be some way to get rid of him.”
She shrugged. “Someone else would just take his place, and I guess it’s a case of the devil you know. Bob Carson used to live with my father. He was about fourteen or fifteen when I was born. When he moved out of our home, he’d still come over every day to see Bodrie.”
“So he was your friend and now he hounds you to make money off of you?” Arnaud asked, as he carefully began to pry the small stone free.
“I wouldn’t say we were ever friends. By the time I was old enough to know who he was, he was takin’ advantage of the women around Bodrie, usin’ drugs and drinkin’. He traveled with Bodrie as his personal photographer and made a huge name for himself in the business. Of course he always made Bodrie look good.”
Bob Carson had taken her to the hotel the night Remy found her, bringing his friends and drugs and alcohol. She was still embarrassed to be around him. Remy hadn’t recognized that young man he’d beat to a bloody pulp that night—or if he had he hadn’t said anything to her when Bob had photographed him kissing her.
Arnaud glanced at her over his shoulder as if reading her mind. “He makes you uneasy.” He dropped a purplish stone into his bag.
She hadn’t meant to reveal so much. “All paparazzi make me uneasy,” she hedged.
He laughed softly. “The thing is, Bijou, you can’t lie worth a damn. It’s one of the many reasons why you can’t stand the business you’re in. You tell the truth, and when you don’t, you’re embarrassed. I’m your friend. You can tell me he makes you uneasy and it isn’t going to end up in the tabloids. I keep your confidences and your secrets. I always have.”
“I know. I’m sorry, Arnaud. I think I’m so used to being careful about what I say, that it’s habit.” She did feel ashamed. She didn’t see Arnaud often, but when she did, he was always the same. Steady. Calm. Definitely someone who valued his friendship with her and asked for nothing in return. He didn’t seem to care who her father was, or how much money she had. He never changed. “I’m grateful for our friendship.”
“Me too.”
Already the moment was over and he was looking at his precious stones, sinking another one inside his bag with almost loving care and turning his attention to his next choice.
Bijou shook her head. Arnaud was trying, but clearly she wasn’t really there. He was totally absorbed in what he was doing. She watched quietly for a few minutes, admiring his dedication and somewhat fascinated by his complete concentration. He was wholly focused on what he was doing, prying two more rocks free and dropping them carefully in the bag hanging from his tool belt. She had the feeling if an alligator did get curious and rushed at them from the water he wouldn’t notice.
Without warning a shiver went down her spine. That strange wave beneath her skin rose like an itch that couldn’t be scratched. More, something wild and feral deep inside unfurled, leapt and pushed against her in alarm. She turned toward the water, half expecting a huge alligator to be attacking. Only then was she aware of the silence. The bayous and swamps were never really silent. As a rule, insects droned incessantly and they had suddenly ceased making any noise above their heads.
Glancing down at her vibrating rope attached to her harness, she touched it lightly, feeling the sudden tension. Instinctively she stepped around Arnaud, her body shielding his, her head down, hands gripping a root overhead. Both ropes slithered down, dropping over the top of them along with a landslide of debris and rock. Small rocks hit her shoulders and back. She dropped one hand onto Arnaud’s shoulder. The ropes slid off the narrow