His Forever Girl (New Orleans' Ladies #4) - Liz Talley Page 0,86

nuts-and-bolts guy. He’ll appreciate working with you,” she said, relaxing against him, even as her gaze stayed on the folder. “I don’t want to talk business. I want to go back to bed with you, feel you against me. Morning will come soon, and until the first ray peeks over the sill, I need to stay in the world we’ve created.”

Ducking his head, Graham placed a gentle kiss atop her head. He wanted that, too, but he wanted it to last past morning. But at 1:17 am, his brain was too fuzzy to figure out how to make that happen… and his body had gone from boneless to hard while holding Tess.

There were better things to do than contemplate the morrow.

Daylight would come soon enough and pop the bubble of contentment that enveloped them.

Like that Scarlett O’Hara chick, he’d think about another day.

MILES BARROW’S OFFICE held a huge desk, a huge blue marlin mounted on the wall, a huge plate glass window overlooking Magazine Street, and a small assistant twitching nearby like a bluejay guarding its nest.

“Julian, sit down or go fetch more coffee. You’re driving me batty with your hovering,” Miles said, leafing through the contract Graham had brought, his legs stretched in front of him, huge leather desk chair tilted back.

“I don’t hover,” Julian drawled, pressing his hands down the skin-tight chambray jacket. Slim white trousers tailored down to classic oxfords. A jaunty bow tie, moussed hair, and dark edgy glasses completed his dapper look. “But I will go for coffee if you want. Mr. Naquin?”

“None for me, thanks,” Graham said, waving a hand and trying to look at home while his gut clenched awaiting Miles’s response. This deal meant the difference between a decent upcoming year and a subpar one… and he’d seen what Upstart had delivered.

“I don’t need the caffeine anyway,” Miles muttered. “Just work on the Happy Burger case.”

Julian held up a hang loose sign and then the door snicked closed, leaving Miles to continue his hmms after reviewing each page.

Finally, the large man set the contracts followed by the numbered float specs on his desk and looked up at Graham. “Interesting.”

“I think so, and I think it’s a solid proposal. Dave Wegmann, our art director, took your vision and created something over-the-top, and we’re offering you more perks than we’ve ever offered the krewe. Frank Ullo wants to keep you happy, Miles.”

Miles nodded, making a teepee of his hands atop his large stomach. “And I like that. But this isn’t brain surgery, right? I like the relationship I have with Ullo. We’ve always used you guys, but I gotta admit there have been some issues in the past with labor costs and parade day glitches. This new outfit Frank’s daughter is working for has promised me those bumps will be smoothed out. Her floats aren’t exactly what I was looking for, but sometimes the experience with prop builders is more important.”

“Not what you’re looking for?” Graham said, leaning forward, his emotions mixed. Something within him hitched at the thought of Miles not liking what Tess had created for Oedipus. How could anyone not appreciate the designs she’d created? “I actually saw a few of them. Too elaborate?”

Miles made a face. “Since when has an artist for a rival company ever showed her designs? And, no, that wasn’t the issue. Not detailed enough, in my opinion.”

Something prickled on the back of Graham’s neck. “I won’t comment on how, but I thought they were exquisite, detailed and, honestly, better than ours.” He pressed a hand against his head and mumbled, “I probably shouldn’t have said that. Stupid.”

Miles chuckled. “Look, guy, this ain’t Wall Street and though business is business, you know how things are run in New Orleans. I don’t hold nothin’ against you as long as it don’t affect me.”

Graham rocked back in his chair, discomfited, as Miles spun his chair. An attorney by day, krewe captain by whatever was left over after billable hours, Miles didn’t seem to be the most organized of men. Which is probably why he spun back around empty-handed and pressed a button on his phone. “Julian!”

“You don’t have to yell into the phone, Miles,” Julian drawled like the smart-ass he obviously was.

“Get me the Upstart proposal,” Miles said, ignoring Julian’s tone.

“As your generation says, ‘ten-four,’ big guy,” Julian responded.

Five seconds later the assistant entered and handed off the bonded proposal. He turned and winked at Graham.

“Don’t mind him. Bold as the devil, but the best legal assistant I’ve had.