Page 3 of The Charmer

It is highly unprofessional of you to dissolve our contract without even bothering to meet me face-to-face, business owner to business owner. And frankly, using your assistant and lawyers to placate me is beneath the LeBlanc & Broussard name. This is the address of the shop if you find yourself in the vicinity.

Georgie

I stared at the email. Was she serious? Who did she think she was? Did she think I was running some mom-and-pop shop that I could just hop on by at the drop of a hat? If I met personally with everyone who had an issue, I'd never get any work done.

I deleted the message. She’d give up eventually. I emailed our drink supplier after that.

Georgie. What was that short for? Georgina? I imagined an elderly woman hiding behind her computer and writing angry emails. It wasn't my fault their warehouse had been flooded. Granted, it wasn't hers either. The only fault she had was making a bad contract that allowed me to pull out of it in case something like this came up.

Whatever.

They probably had insurance that would cover all the damage. Or they should have, anyway. It wasn't my responsibility if another business owner had their shit together or not. “Every man for himself” was my motto. I was just protecting my family’s interests and legacy.

What the fuck am I doing? Am I starting to have a guilty conscience?

"We thought we might find you here."

The familiar voice knocked me out of my thoughts. My youngest brothers, Anthony and Beckett, were here. They often dropped by on Saturday evenings.

"Is it me, or is this place even more crowded than usual?" Beckett asked. "Carnival season hasn’t even officially started."

"Sazerac?" I asked unnecessarily. That was another tradition of sorts in NOLA.

"You know it," Anthony said.

I shouldn't have favorites among my brothers, but these two were definitely at the top of the list.

Since I was the oldest and they were the youngest, there was quite a huge age difference between us. Nowadays, it didn't matter, but back when we were kids, it was another story altogether. I'd been fiercely protective of both of them. Then, once they were old enough to be up to no good, I taught them everything they needed to know, much to our brother Xander's chagrin. I often joked that he was adopted, because he was so different from the rest of us. Always exacting, always double-checking every detail. He was a grump.

"Is Zachary coming too?" I asked Beckett.

"Nah, he has got a date tonight. Speaking of which, I spotted my next date in the crowd."

“Beckett! Not in my bar.”

“Dude! Your employees are off-limits, not your customers. That was the deal.”

“You’re right.” I whistled as I put the cocktails on the counter in front of my brothers. "Your Sazeracs are ready."

As they chugged them down, I remembered Bella's request for sweets—and sent another email. I was determined to never disappoint my niece. She was very levelheaded—well, at least as levelheaded as an eight-year-old could be—and she rarely requested extravagant things. Although, she very well could, considering her family was one of the richest and most powerful in the city.

Chapter Two

Georgie

––––––––

"All right, I'm done with this one," Zelda, my assistant and friend, said.

I got up from my seat, rolling my shoulders and moving my hips a bit too. I'd gotten stiff from sitting too long.

"That looks perfect," I told her, admiring the mask she'd just finished.

She yawned. Looking behind her, I noticed that everyone looked spent. I had a team of three, including Zelda, and they’d been working overtime ever since the damn flood.

Books & Beads sold—as the name suggested—books, beads, and everything anyone could want for Carnival.

"All right, you know what, girls? Everyone go home. I’ll close up here."

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