Page 8 of The Charmer

Fuck it. I didn't know one thing about her company. I'd assumed it was a big conglomerate, like everything was these days. And I’d figured it was a standard clause in their contracts, not something a despondent business owner came up with two generations ago.

Oh, for fuck's sake, Julian! Forget about it. The woman was just trying to get to you.

And yet... she’d seemed seriously desperate. I didn't like that. I always struck good deals, but I didn't take advantage of people. I didn't trample all over them.

Georgie was a spitfire. The way she’d challenged me had been hot. Her blonde hair, blue eyes, and tight sweater definitely got my attention. But I was disappointed by how unprofessional she was. Otherwise, she was just my type.

For fuck’s sake. It didn't matter how attractive she was, or that I woke up this morning still thinking about her lips and had a hard-on that wouldn’t quit. It was absolutely a no-go.

I took in a deep breath to cool off—to no avail. My mind was working furiously, trying to remember where Georgie's store was. I’d deleted her email, but I simply couldn't push this to the back of my mind. So I was going to deal with it.

Stepping back inside my living room, I grabbed the phone and called my assistant. I never disturbed her on weekends unless there was an emergency. This wasn't exactly one, but it felt like it.

"Oh my God, Julian. What's wrong?" she answered breathlessly.

"Relax. No emergency," I assured her.

"Oh, okay. You scared me."

"What’s the name of the company making everything for the float?”

"Southern Carnival. It's one of the biggest producers in the South."

"No, the one we used before."

She sighed. "You got some angry emails again? I'm truly sorry. I tried to block her email, but the woman won't back down. But I can deal with her. I can put our lawyers—”

"No, just tell me the name."

"Let me check.” After a few seconds, she said, “She's got a store in the Quarter, Books & Beads. The address is...”

I committed the address to memory and thanked her.

After hanging up, I looked up the business hours. They were open today. The photo that appeared in the Google search shocked me. It looked like a quaint little mom-and-pop store.

Good God, this is who we've been using for decades? That didn't seem right.

They opened in half an hour, which just gave me just enough time to get dressed and have another coffee.

One thing I enjoyed most about living in the Quarter was that I was within walking distance of practically everything I needed. This place was the center of my existence. But then again, most of my family had businesses in the Quarter too. My grandmothers had a fragrance shop on Dumaine. My mom ran a gallery two streets away. Our flagship restaurant, LeBlanc & Broussard, was on Royal Street. We owned many establishments throughout the whole city, but there was definitely a higher concentration of them in the Quarter.

On the way, I noticed a few groups of tourists, which indicated that the Carnival season had unofficially started already. Once the celebrations were in full swing, the streets would be packed at all times.

Books & Beads was on Burgundy Street, which was deserted at this hour. There was a coffee shop and a small pastry shop right next to her store. At first I thought it was closed because it was dark inside, but then I noticed someone moving around. It was Georgie. Damn it, she was even more attractive than I remembered. Even though the light was very dim, her curves were beckoning me.

I stepped inside, drawing a big breath. I only had one goal today: not to flirt with her. Flirting was like second nature to me. I loved women and loved to interact with them. Of course, I was completely professional with my employees—but Georgie wasn't one.

Bells chimed as I entered—they were hanging over the door.

"Good morning," Georgie said. Her voice was warm and welcoming, completely different from last night. Then she turned around and saw me, and her smile instantly disappeared. "Oh, it's you." That was the voice I’d expected. "What are you doing here?"

I stopped in my tracks, glancing around. The place looked very old but welcoming.

"In your email yesterday, you told me to stop by if I wanted to further discuss the issue at hand."

"So you did read it to the end. I wasn't sure. I thought you’d just deleted it like all the others. You made it clear last night that there was nothing to discuss." Her voice was even sharper than yesterday.

I walked up to the counter. She was arranging a stack of beads behind it.

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