Chapter Three
Zachary
I liked going out to the bayou. However, I usually went there on weekends, typically fishing with my grandfathers. After retiring from running the Orleans Conglomerate many years ago, they took up the sport. I enjoyed spending time with them, listening to their tales of the days of old. They had lots of wisdom to impart, and I would ask them for business advice when I was in a conundrum. Even if I didn’t follow it, I wanted to hear their thoughts.
But driving to the bayou on a workday in the afternoon was a shit idea. Instead of three hours, I needed four. Whatever. I would make good use of my time and call my niece, Bella.
My brother Chad was picking her up from school, and they should be home by now, so I called him on my car’s speakerphone.
“Hello,” he answered.
“Hey, can you pass me to Bella?”
He chuckled. “Right. You two and your phone dates. Sure.”
It had been a few days since we spoke at our dinner. I’d been trapped in meetings, but I didn’t want to postpone this any longer, nor disappoint her in any way.
“Uncle Zachary.” This was her serious voice, which immediately alerted me that she truly wanted to discuss something. Sometimes Bella used her uncles to get her way in things that Chad didn’t allow, such as watching the next Harry Potter movie—which was far too dark for a kid her age—or eating too many sweets. But her tone was different. Ever since Chad and Scarlett had Simone, the rest of us were paying even more attention to Bella, figuring she might be jealous. But she’d grown into her role as big sister perfectly.
“Hey, cricket. What do you want to talk about?”
“Is it true what they say in the family about you?”
“Can you be more specific? They say a lot of things.”
She giggled. “That’s true. They say that you’re very good at managing crisis situations.”
Where is she going with this? “Yeah, that is true.”
“Good, because I have a crisis.”
“What’s going on?” I heard Chad ask.
“Daddy, I asked you to step farther away. This is between Uncle Zachary and me.”
I barely held back laughter.
“Okay, okay,” Chad grumbled in the background.
Bella was silent for a bit before speaking again. “Several girls at school are saying that my friends aren’t cool. They don’t want me to be friends with them anymore. And they say that if I don’t do that, they won’t include me in what they do.”
I hated how kids could be. “What do you want, Bella?”
“I don’t want to drop my friends. I think they’re cool.”
I adored this girl. “There’s your answer, then.”
“But how do I deal with the other girls so they don’t drop me?”
“Why don’t you want them to drop you?”
“I guess they’re the cool ones.”
Poor kid. The pressures of school.
“Do you have fun when you’re with them?” I asked.
“Not always. I think they’re very mean.”
“Do you like the activities you do together?”
“Some.” I could hear her questioning her answer.
“Could you do them without them? Maybe even with your other friends?”
“Yes, I could do them with my other friends.”
“Listen, Bella, you don’t have to be friends with anyone if you don’t want to. Don’t let your peers force you into anything you don’t want to do.”
“Really?” Her voice brightened. “I thought that once the cool girls wanted me to hang out with them, I had to do that.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I didn’t know that was an option.” She sounded perplexed.
“You always have options, cricket. I promise you.”
“Yes! I don’t have to dump my friends, and I don’t have to hang out with the mean girls either. Thank you, Uncle Zachary. You truly are the best.”
I chuckled. “Anytime. Sorry it took me so long to call you.”
“It didn’t take you that long. Just three days.”
I liked how exact kids were. No wonder she got along so well with Xander. Then again, she got along with everyone in the family—and we spoiled her rotten, of course.
I expected her to give the phone back to Chad, but she didn’t. She just hung up, making me laugh. She had a good head on her shoulders even though she was barely ten.
I was tempted to call Chad back to tell him not to worry about anything. Lately, he tended to worry whenever Bella wanted to talk about something exclusively with us. Then I remembered that I still hadn’t spoken with Marcel. And considering that I was about to meet this Grace Deveraux in person, it was high time I got some information. I asked Siri to dial him, and he answered after a few rings.
“Hey, Zachary. I was about to call you.”
“Good. So, you have some info?”
“Of course. You know I never fail. I’ll lay out everything chronologically. Grace Deveraux went to an all-girls prep school.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard about that. Skip to the most recent info. I don’t need her entire life story.”
“She worked in the Deveraux company for about eight years after graduating, right until she got married. After that, she immediately quit her job. Unless you count attending social events as a job. That was all she did for the past few years. Four of them, to be exact. Then she and Roger Cointreau divorced. She started a skincare company last year, after the divorce. If you ask me, it’s more of a vanity project.”
“You don’t know that,” I said, cutting him short. I didn’t like the tone he was using.
“Fair enough. I didn’t have time to dig into financials or anything.”
“Is she working with her brothers in any capacity?”
“Not that I could find. Honestly, I think she’s just a socialite who wants to look good.”
That got under my skin. Marcel was good at what he did, but lately he was pissing me off. I was paying him for information, not opinions.
“Is her company self-funded?”
“Yes. No investors. Then again, with the Deveraux name, it would’ve been impossible to get any.”
I agreed with him on that. It was a simple fact. They were the black sheep of the city.
“Thanks for all the info.”
“Anytime. You want me to dig more into the financials?”
“I’ll let you know if that’s necessary.” I didn’t want to waste too much time with this because I wasn’t going into business with her.
I arrived at the ranch a short while later. There was already another car in front of the fence. I immediately got out, grabbing the box of pralines that I’d gotten some time ago for Gaston and Felicia. During my first call, they told me how much they liked the LeBlanc & Broussard pralines, and I took the hint.
This place had good bones. The property was huge, with trimmed grass that butted up to the bayou that flowed at the edge of the property. There were horses outside, leisurely moving around, and several cabins spread about where they hosted patients during camps.
Even from this distance, I could tell that the cottages had seen better days. Several shingles were missing from the roofs, and the wood on the front porches needed improvement.
I jogged toward the main building and immediately saw a stunning brunette next to an elderly couple who I assumed were Gaston and Felicia. I could only see her profile, but it was impressive. She was wearing a tight skirt and a fancy blouse. Her dark hair reached to the middle of her back. As I approached, I noticed that she had thick dark eyebrows and red lips. I glanced down and cocked a brow. Who in their right mind would show up to a ranch in stilettos?
A few seconds later, I made the connection. This had to be a Grace Deveraux.
“Hey, everyone. Sorry I’m late,” I said. “I’m Zachary.”
Gaston waved his hand. “Don’t you worry. Ms. Deveraux just arrived also.”
“I’m Felicia,” his wife said, and I shook hands with them both.
“These are the pralines I promised,” I told them, holding out the box.
“Oh, aren’t you a delightful young man,” Felicia said, grabbing it from me.
Then I turned to face Grace Deveraux. Her features were striking. I was certain that I’d never seen her before in my life because if I had, I would’ve remembered her. She didn’t smile as she held her hand out to me.
“Nice to meet you,” I said in a cool voice.
“Likewise.”
I shook her hand briefly, and then she pulled it back—yanked it almost. I cocked a brow. This was an interesting start. Obviously she wasn’t happy that I was here.
“Let’s go inside so we can tell you a bit about what we do,” Felicia suggested.
“Why don’t we go see the stables first and look around the property while the sun’s still up?” I suggested.
“Son,” Gaston said, “the humidity is even worse out here in the bayou than in New Orleans. We’d be cooking. We can chat first, and then when the sun sets, we can go. I’ve got good mosquito repellent.”
“I’d still prefer to go now,” I admitted.
“Well, then, Mr. LeBlanc,” Grace cut in, “why don’t you take a walk by yourself and look around while Gaston, Felicia, and I have a chat inside?”
I stared at her. Why was she antagonizing me?
“The suggestion was for all of us,” I emphasized.
“I, for one, prefer to take Gaston’s advice. After all, he’s the one running this place and knows best. Unless you expect us all to simply do your bidding?”
Whoa.
“Is there a problem here?” I asked her.
“You tell me.”
Gaston and Felicia looked at each other. I was beginning to think Marcel hadn’t jumped to conclusions for no reason.
“Shall we go inside, then?” Felicia asked. “I made some sweet tea.”
“Sure,” I said.
Grace gave me a sardonic smile.
What the hell is going on?
Once we entered the foyer, I could see that the house looked better on the inside than the outside.
Gaston gestured to the room. “This is where we live.”
“You only offer camps, right?” I asked.
“You’ve looked on our website!” Felicia said. She sounded thrilled.
“Yes, of course. I asked around a bit before I even called you.”
Next to me, Grace huffed. I looked at her again. Her eyes were icy. How could a woman so beautiful be so stuck up?
Felicia looked at Gaston, who shrugged. Grace was shooting herself in the foot. She was being completely unprofessional. Not my concern, though. In fact, it worked in my favor.
“Having camps makes the most sense. I mean, we’re three hours from New Orleans, where most of our clients come from. No one would come for just an afternoon session,” Gaston explained.
“We do weeklong camps with kids who love, love, love our horses. And then we also do camps for adults and veterans. We handle those a bit differently, space them out and so on. In here, we have the group therapy sessions.” She pointed to four empty rooms. “It’s also where we have meals for everyone.”
“How many therapists do you have?” I asked.
“We recruit for each camp as needed, though most are repeats. Depending on the size of the camp, between five and ten.”
This ranch was a valuable asset to many people, and the fact that they managed it all on their own was impressive.
Felicia added, “Clients work mostly with the animals, like a working ranch. They’ll brush them, clean the stalls, and of course ride the horses around the perimeter. Physical work with animals is very healing.”
“That is quite an endeavor,” Grace said. “How long have you two been doing this?”
“It’s on the website,” I said. Had she not checked it out at all?
She bristled. I had no idea why I’d put her on the spot like that. It was unlike me, but she’d already ticked me off. Besides, she’d been doing the same to me. I figured she was fair game.
“We’ve been running it for thirty years,” Felicia said, unfazed. “I studied psychotherapy myself, and I wanted to do something different. Not many people were offering this at first. After my parents passed away, I had a small inheritance I could invest. And that was the last time we had any money to pour into this place. That’s why it needs a thorough renovation.”
“Do you have trainers for the horses?” I inquired.
“No, we do that by ourselves,” Felicia replied. “We weren’t properly trained for it, but after so many years, it’s become second nature. We’ve never had any issues with our animals misbehaving.”
“And you’ve never had any liability issues?” Grace asked. It was a smart question, I’d give her that.
I stood a few steps behind so I could take a good look at her. Her shoulders were rigid, her chin slightly jutted forward in a commanding way.
“No, not even one,” Felicia replied.
Grace nodded. “It’s something I’d take a closer look at in the eventuality of a collaboration,” she went on, and both Gaston and Felicia frowned. Grace was definitely not winning them over, but that was fine by me.
They gave us a full tour of the house, going into great detail about how they organized therapy sessions. It took about two hours even though there were just a few rooms.
“We could show you the cabins,” Gaston said, “but honestly, most of them are pretty run-down. It’s the reason why we haven’t really booked anything this summer. We realized we needed a total overhaul before we could have people stay over again.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. Why did they wait until the last minute?
“I’d still like to see them,” Grace said, “just to get an idea of what the investment would be.”
“Then let’s go,” Gaston said, he and Felicia walking back to the front door.
Grace didn’t even look at me as she stepped past me. I wanted to ask what the fuck her deal was but held back. I was simply here to assess if this was worth my investment. If she had a problem with me, it was up to her to tell me.