Page 21 of Good Girl's Bad Lessons

Desmorais glanced down at his hand without moving a muscle. Then the man shook his head, more to himself than to Nico, and with a snort, walked away from them. The assistant followed him, and they spoke in French.

His gut clenched. Shit. Where the hell was Emma? If she’d been here, she’d have made an introduction to clear the air.

James patted him on the shoulder. “Damn. Doesn’t seem he likes you much.”

“That could be a problem, since I want to do business with him,” Nico said, annoyance lacing his words.

“It’ll be all right. Why don’t you ask that girlfriend of yours for help? Cavanaugh, you said? Isn’t she the one in charge of the animal sanctuary he’s building at his home?”

Animal sanctuary? At his home? Shock crept into his bloodstream, freezing his veins for a moment. Nico reached for his collar, slipping a finger into it to make sure it wasn’t too tight. “What are you talking about?”

“Elton mentioned it to me. Said the fund-raiser today is a good way to weed out donors for a future project. Get this: the old man lives on a kickass property he wants to turn into a sanctuary. But he doesn’t want the word to get out yet, because he’s still getting licenses approved and shit.”

“And Elton told you all this?”

James shrugged. “Yeah, I think he wants to start searching for donors already. Hey, maybe you can talk to him and see if you can get in on it, too. Could be a good way to get on the old man’s good side.”

Disappointment squeezed his chest. Emma had known this all along and never told him. Not once did she say she’d be effectively working on the project to rip away his dream. He curled his fingers into fists, his pulse thrumming in his temples. She’d lied to him.

“Excuse me,” Nico said, tuning out the additional information James told him.

He made his way through the ballroom, uneasiness settling in his gut. Another question pounded in his ears. Why did Desmorais ignore him? Was it because he was talking to James Perry? No, since Perry had been a guest, friends with Elton, who’d helped Desmorais organize the fund-raiser. Had she told Desmorais about Nico’s plan? Had they shared a good laugh at his expense?

Nico let out an exasperated sigh, looking both ways, and saw just a sea of people greeting one another or searching for their seats. His heart quickened, and the image of his mother running to him in the backyard filled with rare, beautiful bois dentelle plants unraveled in his mind. He blinked twice, his pulse still out of control. What the fuck was happening?

He’d come all the way here to have a panic attack?

He’d come all the way here to lose?

He ran his fingers down his face. No. Never. He’d get to the bottom of this mess.

“Nico,” he heard a female voice call. A female voice he recognized and spiked his heart rate for an entirely different reason.

He turned around, and Emma waved at him. She stood next to Desmorais and his assistant. Stretching to his full height, he strode over to them with his natural confidence restored. Whatever misunderstanding happened earlier, now was a great time to put it behind him—with Emma, who spoke French and knew Desmorais. He’d question her later, but not while Desmorais stood before him. He’d never miss the opportunity to continue as planned, even if he didn’t trust her anymore.

She said something in quick French, then touched his tie and smiled. “Nico, please meet Angele Desmorais. I was just telling him how we’re excited about the fund-raiser.”

Nico stretched out his hand, and Desmorais glanced at it for an uncomfortable stretch of time until his assistant whispered something in another language. At last, Desmorais shook his hand, his brown eyes squinting.

Nico stared him in the eyes, not letting the man’s disdain unsettle him. “Pleasure.”

Desmorais gave him a reluctant slow nod, then quickly withdrew his hand. He exchanged a few sentences with Emma and spun around. She responded in French, to which he glared at Nico, and muttered a, “Oui.”

As he and his assistant moved along to greet other people, Emma turned to Nico. “No wonder you needed help. He doesn’t like you.” She whistled, hands perched at her waist.

“Why? What could I ever have done to him?” Had he been too overbearing in the past when he’d tried to establish some rapport? Perhaps Desmorais’s lawyer had influenced his mind against Nico. But why?

“I don’t know. He had invited me for a lunch at his place in three days, and just now I asked him if I could bring you, and he sort of begrudgingly agreed.”

Nico gritted his teeth. “Great.” When was the last time he had to impress anyone? Most people he dealt with knew him, his power and influence. They went out of their way to gain his approval, but Desmorais didn’t bow to any man. “I just met him tonight. I was making a joke about lapdogs with a friend I ran into, when he approached me.”

She frowned, angling closer. “Lapdogs? What did you say?”

“James mentioned something about me being a lapdog because I brought my girlfriend here, and I said lapdogs are for suckers. Something about handing over your balls on a tray. Why?”

“Didn’t you know? Desmorais loves small doggies. He’s rescued a bunch of them and keeps them in his home. It’s his passion.”

Oh shit. He ran his hand down his face, cursing himself. One stupid joke and the man clearly hated his guts. “How could I know anything about him? He’s so reserved, and personal views on animals aren’t on the top of my priority list.” Besides, all he’d paid his corporate investigator to discover had been about financial crap, which had been a disappointment. If Desmorais had been in any kind of difficulty, the man wouldn’t think twice about selling a property well over market value. Yet his portfolio was strong. Too strong.

---