Page 1 of Beau

CHAPTER 1

Beau Boyette pulled into the parking lot at the Gautreaux Chateau on the bayou west of New Orleans, Louisiana. Dressed in a Robin Hood costume, complete with a green coat, a quiver of arrows, a thick belt and the signature green hat, he felt ridiculous, mostly because of the goddamn green tights. He prayed his Brotherhood Protectors teammates hadn’t seen him leaving the boarding house in Bayou Mambaloa. He’d never hear the end of it.

He dug into his jacket pocket for his cell phone. Having put off this call as long as he could, he needed to get it over with and clear his slate for however long his mission might take.

“Beau, cher,” his mother, Josephine Boyette, answered on the first ring in her heavy Cajun accent. “Comment ça se plume?” Translated: How’s it plucking?

Beau grinned at his mother’s favorite Cajun saying. “Bien, Maman.”

“Why we have non seen you in da past week? You’re gonna be here for da Sunday dinner, oui? It will be da first time in eight years since all ten of mes enfants have been together.”

“Maman, I can’t make the family dinner on Sunday. I got my first assignment and have to work.”

“You no can put it off ‘til Monday?” she asked.

“No, Maman,” he said. “I work 24/7.”

“You no in l’armee anymore. You come to da dinner.”

“No, Maman. I’m not in the Army anymore, but I work providing protection for people,” he explained for the fifth time since hiring on with the Brotherhood Protectors.

“Surely, you get a day off,” his mother said. “Do I need to talk to da boss?”

God forbid his mother should talk to his lead over the Bayou Brotherhood Protectors. He’d never hear the end of the ribbing he’d get from Remy Montagne or the rest of the team. Or she could make it worse and take her complaint to Hank Patterson, the man who’d started the original Brotherhood Protectors organization.

Beau sighed. “Maman, you don’t need to talk to my boss. I signed on to dis job, knowing it could mean working 24/7 to protect our clients. I’m just calling to let you know I won’t be at da family dinner. I’ll try to make it another time.”

“But—” his mother started.

“Je suis désolé,” I’m sorry, Beau said. “I have to go. My job starts tonight. Je t’aime. Au revoir.” He ended the call before his mother could get all wound up and talk for another thirty minutes.

Beau didn’t have time to talk. He’d been hired by Senator Marcus Anderson to protect his daughter Aurelie.

Miss Anderson had received a number of death threats over the past week since the senator had announced his reelection campaign. At the same time, Aurelie had stepped in to lead her father’s philanthropic effort to preserve the bayou.

Since the senator would be campaigning across the state, he wouldn’t have time to be with his daughter to guarantee her safety.

That would be Beau’s responsibility.

The senator didn’t want his daughter to know he’d hired a bodyguard. At least, not yet. He’d warned Beau that his daughter could be headstrong and extremely stubborn, a trait she’d inherited from her father.

Great. Beau wasn’t thrilled with the idea of babysitting a spoiled little rich girl with a rebellious streak. He’d have to be on his toes at all times to make certain she didn’t ghost him and land herself in trouble with no one around to help.

What she probably needed was a good old-fashioned spanking to get her attention. He’d almost asked the senator if that was a possibility but had thought better of it.

This was his first assignment with the Brotherhood Protectors. He wanted it to be a success and good advertisement for future gigs. Word of mouth was the best kind of marketing in the security business.

He pulled on the green cloth mask he’d acquired with the costume, thinking it appropriate for this undercover bodyguard job.

The event at the Gautreaux Chateau was a masquerade ball to raise money for the senator’s reelection campaign. Only the very wealthy had purchased tickets at ten thousand dollars each.

Beau wouldn’t be going to the event if the Senator hadn’t given him a free ticket. He’d have been standing guard at the door or pacing the perimeter.

Ten-thousand-dollar tickets?

No way.

He had the money, but he had other plans for his savings—a place of his own with a house and five to ten acres of good land where he could raise a garden, a cow or two, and chickens. If it was on the bayou...even better. He’d always wanted a boat dock and access to fishing whenever he had a spare moment.

---