Tell Me Something Good by Lynn Emery Read Free Book Online

’bout.
Richard or Willie?” Rosalie gestured for her to follow.
    “I mean her grandson Noel.” Lyrissa felt the
heat once again just saying his name.
    Rosalie looked at Lyrissa more closely and a
sly smile spread across the housekeeper’s face. “I wondered why he
showed up.”
    “They both met with my boss about the St.
Denis collection,” Lyrissa said too quickly and blushed. Rosalie’s
knowing expression was like an x ray right into her mind.
    “Uh-huh. Mr. All-work-no-play usually goes to
the office by seven in the morning and don’t leave until six in the
evening. He must really be interested in the collection. Here we
go.”
    Rosalie walked off before Lyrissa could lob a
come-back. They went down the hall past a set of beautiful carved
oak doors. Lyrissa wanted to stop and examine them, but didn’t.
They proceeded to another set of doors that slid apart.
    The lovely sitting room, smaller than the
formal living room for entertaining, was decorated in soft pink,
gray, blue, and moss green. An antique rug of pink roses with green
leaves covered the floor. A set of dark rose-colored chairs matched
a Queen Anne sofa in soft green-and- pink-pattered upholstery. Blue
drapes covered large windows that overlooked a patch of lawn.
Groups of family photos in silver frames lined the top of a console
table. One larger than the rest stood alone on a marble mantel. The
frame was sterling silver studded with marcasite. A handsome man
with a thick mustache stood ramrod straight in the black-and-white
photograph.
    “How wonderful!” Lyrissa forgot her reserve.
She studied the pictures as though she were at a museum photo
exhibit.
    “That’s my papa,” Miss Georgina said with
pride from her seat at an antique desk.
    Lyrissa started. She’d been so absorbed in
taking in the decor that she hadn’t even noticed Mrs. St. Denis was
sitting quietly in the room.
    “Etienne Rohas. French and Spanish
blood.”
    “And African,” Lyrissa added without
thinking.
    “Qu’est-ce que c’est?”
    “She said African. Most likely West Africa by
way of Cuba.” Noel’s deep voice came from another comer of the
room. He must have slipped in from a back entrance. There is no way
she wouldn’t have felt his presence upon entering the room.
    He wore a wide smile. His even white teeth
sparkled against the creamy brown skin of his face. A sky blue
dress shirt stretched across his broad chest. Narrow hips tapered
down to muscular thighs covered by navy pinstriped slacks.
    “Hello again, Lyrissa,” he said.
    “Hi,” Lyrissa managed.
    Miss Georgina shot Noel a glance heavy with
meaning. “Interesting,” she murmured.
    “Our African ancestor came from St. Domingue,
now known as Cuba, in seventeen eighty-two,” he said mildly despite
his grandmother’s tight expression. “We do have African blood,
Grandmother.”
    “I know that,” Miss Georgina snapped. She
gave him a look that could have cut through steel.
    Lyrissa cleared her throat. “Your home is
lovely,” she said to ease the tension.
    “Thank you. Please sit down, Ms. Rideau.”
    “Here. Best seat in the house.” He ushered
Lyrissa over to a pair of leather chairs facing Miss Georgina’s
desk He sat next to her.
    “My grandson tells me you weren’t pleased
with our list.” Mrs. St. Denis fixed her with a stony gaze.
    “More information on the items would
certainly make the process easier,” Lyrissa replied carefully. She
wondered just how much Noel had told her about their meeting.
    “Your job is to catalogue and appraise our
family art,” Mrs. St. Denis said.
    Lyrissa swallowed a tart reply itching to
slip from her lips. She couldn’t afford to get tossed out on her
butt the first day of this assignment. She would have to face her
furious boss. Worse still, Mama Grace would throw a fit that would
make Mrs. St. Denis seem like a pussycat. Noel seemed to take great
delight in watching the two strong women face off. Lyrissa ground
her teeth with the effort, but