a bug in someone’s ear. “She wants to buy the place. And honestly, they probably would have come around at some point.”
Sera shook her head. “She won’t stop, and she’ll be angry when she realizes you’re helping me.”
“I wasn’t planning on telling her.” He also wasn’t planning on hiding it. He wouldn’t bring it up, but if she asked, he wasn’t going to lie. His aunt’s morning routine didn’t lead to a lot of conversation. She was in the office by eight a.m., and unless it was a Sunday, she didn’t eat breakfast. He’d barely said hello to her before she was running out the door today. Cal had left for New Orleans and wouldn’t be back until Friday. Angie was wrapped up in wedding plans. No one even bothered to ask him what he would be up to. He didn’t think that would change.
“It won’t work,” she insisted.
He shrugged. He wasn’t sure it could work, either, but he wasn’t about to leave her alone to handle this job, especially now that she was on a clock. “I’m going to see if I can fix the wiring in the kitchen. It kind of sparks at odd times.”
“Harry.” She stared up at him, the saddest look on her face. “It can’t work.”
He knew what she was talking about, but he wasn’t going to argue with her. If she kicked him out, he would stay away. But he would also give her an out if she couldn’t ask him to stay. “I think it can. Oh, it will likely require an entire rewire, but that weird lamp will work again. I promise. The only thing I’m better at than kissing is fixing things.”
Her eyes rolled. “You’re not that good at kissing.”
“Oh, I can try again.”
She gave him a flustered smile. “Go look at the wiring, weirdo. I’m going to get my tool kit. I got new locks since I can’t find my aunt’s keys to the old ones. I think she might have buried them somewhere.”
Shep followed her out.
And Harry got to work.
* * *
***
Celeste stared at the phone. She had it on speaker since she was alone in the space she used at Beaumont Oil’s small but elegantly appointed office in the town square. There was a larger office in New Orleans that served as the main corporate headquarters, but the family had always kept this building in Papillon for everyday work. Cal spent four days a week at the New Orleans office, staying in the French Quarter house that had been in the family since they’d moved to Louisiana from Texas.
She was glad he was there now because she didn’t particularly want anyone to overhear this conversation. “What do you mean she has ninety days?”
There was a pause on the line that let Celeste know her tone had been heard and properly received. Margret Hawkins cleared her throat before she began speaking. “Well, there are rules, you see.”
“Then bend them.”
“Well, uhm, you see I wasn’t able to send out the man I would normally send out. He’s more willing to listen to reason,” Margret said in a breathy tone. “I had to send out Darnell, and he’s a real stickler for the actual rules we have in place. He said it wasn’t as bad as he’d expected and felt that Ms. Guidry had a real handle on things. He liked her contractor a lot. Said he was a solid guy.”
“I would like to know the name of that contractor.” She would find out the name and then hire him right out from under her. There weren’t many contractors around, not ones who could stop everything they were doing to put all their eggs in Seraphina’s not-well-funded basket.
There was a shuffling sound. “It’s not in the paperwork. We don’t require that a homeowner have a contractor. Most of the time they can do the work themselves or have family helping them. You know our rules are actually pretty relaxed.”
“Then someone should tighten them,” Celeste ground out. It was obvious Margret was a moron, but then she should have known that little mouse couldn’t get the job done. And now there was paperwork, and she knew how government entities functioned. She hung up before Margret could say another word.
She was about to dial up her attorney when there was a brusque knock on the door, and suddenly Sylvie Martine was striding in past her useless assistant, who might be looking for a new job soon.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Beaumont,” Carla was saying. “She