know it, he’s a good person. Not everything is out for all to see, you know what I mean?”
Graham dropped Miles’s hand. “I do know.”
The big man came around the desk and slapped a hand on Graham’s back. “I’ll have a word with Monique and be in touch.”
Graham gave Miles a final handshake, a wave to Julian, and then stepped out of the tidy shotgun house that had been converted into an office and inhaled the humid air.
Next week he might be out on his ass, tossed there by
Frank Ullo for destroying any chance the company had to revitalize the business.
But for the time being he’d cherish the idea he’d done something honorable. He’d done something brave. One step closer to his goal of being a better man… and one step closer to losing the job he loved.
TESS LOOKED OVER the notes the captain of Icarus made on the prop rotations she’d suggested and glanced at her inbox. Monique had been out of the office all afternoon and hadn’t answered when Tess had texted her about the new guidelines the city had put out regarding rider-safety harnesses. She wanted to make sure Upstart already had them on the current floats because the penalties assessed for failure to comply were stiff. The krewes would expect the builders to get that right.
Spinning in her chair, she closed her eyes and sighed.
All morning she’d tried to get serious work done instead of reliving Sunday night in her mind.
Being with Graham had been good… almost healing. After weeks of feeling so alone, having him beside her connected her, gave her a glimpse of what it would feel to be in a relationship with him.
Oh, it wasn’t just the sex—which was amazing, of course. Their conversations stimulated and comforted just as they had from the first time she’d met him on that barstool at Two-Legged Pete’s. She wanted more than what she currently had with him which was… nothing.
Okay, they were nothing on paper, but maybe they could—”
“What the hell, Tess?” Monique growled from the open doorway.
Tess spun. Oh, God. Monique knew about her and Graham. But how could she? Unless the woman had been following him around. Or maybe she’d hired a private eye or something. Sometimes women did that in custody cases… but she and Graham weren’t in a custody battle, were they? “What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean,” Monique said, framed in the doorway, looking like she might spit fire. Tess’s office masqueraded as a broom closet, so Monique stood close, her eyes snapping, her dark hair slicked back into a low ponytail. Dressed in a black minidress and fishnet stockings, she was the epitome of every Disney villainess. Sorta scary. And right on cue, her lackey Cecily popped her head over Monique’s shoulder, self-satisfied half smile on her face.
“No, I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tess hedged, hoping it was something other than the fact she’d had sex with the competition.
Like, three times.
“Miles Barrow called me and wanted a meeting. Basically, we’ve landed the Oedipus contract with the stipulation you take the lead,” Monique said, her eyes still narrowed to slits. For someone who should be over the moon, she was decidedly aggravated.
Tess, relieved this wasn’t over Graham, made a face. “I don’t understand why you’re upset. That’s wonderful news.”
“Miles wants your float designs.”
“Well, yeah.” Tess couldn’t grasp the conversation. She felt as if she’d fallen into some parallel dimension where bad news was good news and vice versa. “That’s what we gave him.”
“No.”
“No?” Tess sat back in her chair. “You didn’t sub my proposal? Wait, you subbed yours?”
“But somehow he knew about yours.”
Monique moved inside the office and Cecily took up her former position at the door, looking gleeful, as if she were watching an execution.
Tess gripped her chair arms, and she wasn’t sure if it was because she wanted to punch Monique or needed the support. “I never talked to Miles about my designs and, frankly, I’m pissed you chose yours over mine.”
“Why? It’s my company. I can submit whatever I wish.”
“And yours weren’t better than hers anyway. You’ve never been told no, have you, princess?” Cecily said, with another greasy smile.
Tess stared at both the women wondering if this was a joke, and then the situation really hit her.
Monique had not given Miles Barrow the designs Tess had slaved over.
Instead the woman had submitted her own substandard float designs. Monique had allowed Tess to play at design much like she’d given Emily a