G.T. Herren - Paige Tourneur 02 - Dead Housewives of New Orleans by G.T. Herren Read Free Book Online

original chain of fast food fish stores had been sold at an enormous profit, and he’d tried to break into the higher end restaurant market. The problem was, Steve wasn’t a chef, he was a businessman, and his success with the fast food chain had convinced him that was the way to run a restaurant. His first Barron’s had opened on St. Charles Avenue, taking over a building that had been empty for decades and turning it into a hideous display of multi-colored pastel neon and art deco atrocities that had pretty much appalled the entire city. The place was enormously successful— the food wasn’t bad and the servings were large enough to give great value for the price. But his not being a chef showed in the menu. Rather than hiring a great chef and giving him free reign to design the menu, Steve didn’t want to miss any opportunities. The menu at Barron’s was as varied and as thick as one at a TGIFriday’s or Chili’s. Locals tended to avoid Barron’s, but tourists loved it. Within a year he’d opened another one in Metairie, and within five years, there was a Barron’s in Houston, Dallas, Jacksonville, Tampa, Salt Lake City and Birmingham. Now, they were as ubiquitous as the Hard Rock Café.
    “The boys wanted to—” she hesitated, looked over to Athalie for support, and continued, “they wanted to sell the chain and open a five-star restaurant. Steve wouldn’t have any part of it, and he knew once he was gone if he left them the restaurants, that’s exactly what they would do. So he left everything to me. Oh, he always intended to change the will back— he changed it really, just to show them he could and to let them know whose money and company it was, but then he had his heart attack and was gone.” She gave a slight little shrug. “It’s not my fault he died before he could do it.”
    That’s cold,
I thought but said nothing.
    “You think I’m a bitch, don’t you?” Rebecca gave me a sardonic glance, a corner of her mouth twitching. She gave a little shrug. “I won’t bore you with the stories of how the two of them— and their mothers— did everything they could to make my life miserable.” She barked out a laugh. “Bleach your hair and get some implants and everyone thinks you’re an idiot. For the record, I have an MBA in Business from Duke University.” She leaned back in her chair. “I’ve been running the company since Steve died, and profits are up.”
    “But—” I was impressed, and angry at myself for presuming she was a bimbo— which I had done even when I interviewed Steve. “Why did you agree to do a reality show?”
    She glanced over at Athalie, who gave her a slight nod as though giving her permission to speak, which was odd. Rebecca cleared her throat. “I joined the show because I wanted to— my stepsons are contesting the will and fighting me for control of the company.” She blew out a breath. “Now I realize it was a mistake— but my thinking was, if I went on this show and could show everyone in America what a good businesswoman I actually am…” Her mouth twisted. “After seeing the way they edited the first episode last night, I’d swear Abe Golden was on my stepsons’ payroll.”
    I had to agree with her. The woman sitting across the room from me today was nothing like the woman I’d seen on the screen last night. The show had clearly been edited to make her look and sound like someone who could barely read, rather than the cool, competent professional head of a major restaurant company.
    “And that Fidelis Vandiver.” Her face twisted into a sneer. “That fucking bitch needs to be slapped.”
    Obviously, she hadn’t heard the news.
    “I got the distinct impression there’s some history there,” I said cautiously, deciding to withhold it for the moment.
    She again glanced over at Athalie. “Fidelis was involved with Steve briefly— before he met me.” She rolled her eyes. “She apparently thought
she
was going to be the next Mrs. Barron.