Chapter 6
“Mr. Essex, I’m so glad we could finally connect.
” I kept the smile on my face and the irritation out of my voice as the hostess led me to his table.
It didn’t matter how many times he’d cancelled previously.
If I left this meeting with my questions answered and a stronger sense of the job, I’d count the win.
“John, please, and I hope I can call you Elena.” He pronounced my name Elayna in his clipped Northern accent. Not the stereotypical Jersey or Yankee accent I’d heard on TV. His was something short and fast. He stood and offered me his hand.
A Grand Seiko watch peeked out from behind starched white cuffs.
His suit—clearly made for him, not prêt-à-porter—showed off broad shoulders, narrow hips, and what I had no doubt was an exceptional body.
He wore his dark hair trimmed short on the sides with just enough length on the top to let it fall carelessly across his brow without looking sloppy in a way that only a good haircut could.
He had a smooth jaw, angular enough to make Captain America envious, and when I leaned in to take his hand, I caught the barest hint of what I imagined must be very expensive cologne.
He wore his money but with exceptional taste I could admire.
“Of course. It’s Elena, actually.” I repeated my name with a smile and a soft ah for the middle syllable, and took my seat in the chair he pulled out for me, smoothing my skirt. “Could I have a mineral water, please?” I asked the waiter who’d magically appeared at my elbow.
“Thank you for meeting me over lunch. My stay in the city is so limited; this was the only way I was sure I could find time to eat. Power bars between meetings in a city known for its restaurants seemed like a travesty.”
“It would be, and it’s my pleasure. This restaurant is one of my favorites. The oyster granitas are exceptional. If you like shrimp, they also make a shrimp and grits that will help you find religion.”
He laughed—a genuine warm sound—and followed my lead, ordering the oysters and shrimp, turning his full attention to me as soon as the waiter left the table.
“My team was impressed with the drawings you sent for the interiors, as was I. The details respect the history and heritage of the city without becoming a caricature, and the furnishings and finishes match the expectations of an Essex property. It’s exactly what I was looking for when I hired you. ”
“I’m so glad you’re pleased. I’m excited to work on this project, to see the vision come to life. It will be a good thing for the city and a great thing for the parish.” I leaned back to let the waiter set the ice-filled plate of oysters in front of me.
He mirrored my movements, thanking the waiter before returning his attention to me.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.
As much as I love an excuse to visit the city—and I do love everything I’ve seen of it, which I know is just a fraction—we could have done the design approvals over the phone.
I have a different proposition for you.”
I paused with the granita-topped oyster shell halfway to my mouth. “I’m intrigued. Go on.”
I knocked back the oyster, relishing the briny sweetness of the Gulf delicacy with the tart, peppery ice of the granita. He repeated my movements with his own oyster and then hit me with a smile of pure pleasure that would have made a less focused woman weak-kneed.
“My God, that’s good.” He ate two more before wiping his fingertips on his napkin.
I grinned at his obvious delight and waited for him to reveal his mysterious proposition. “I’m having trouble with approvals and with things moving as quickly as I need them to. I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but there’s a North/South push-pull going on, and it’s not working in my favor.”
It wasn’t anything I didn’t already know—I’d heard more than enough about the Yankee developer from the people I knew on the parish council.
Letting him explain the situation gave me a chance to make a dent in my oysters before the icy granita melted completely while I figured out how to frame possible solutions.
“I don’t mind being patient. Well, actually I do.
It’s not one of my strengths.” His smile was slightly self-deprecating this time and no less charming.
“But I would try if I thought it would get me what I want. In this situation, I think the project needs a different voice. Someone who can smooth things over with the locals, who speaks their language with the right accent.”
I didn’t love the implication that the South, and more specifically my city were almost a different country, but I understood his point.
His development proposal was sound, and the designs were beautiful.
I’d make sure of it. The reticence in the approval process came from a different kind of prejudice.
“People can be suspicious of outsiders, especially when there are permanent things like buildings involved. Architecture is more important to the city than speed.” There were ways around it.
I was running through suggestions in my head, ordering them in a way to be most helpful to him while I finished the last of my oysters.
“Your building respects our history. When the council takes the time to really see that, they’ll come around. ”
“That’s exactly what I mean. I need someone local who can smooth things over with the planning boards.
I’ve got construction managers and a development team.
We know how to put the building up. We do it all the time.
What I need is an ambassador. Someone who can make the local authorities see I’m not part of the evil empire.
” He paused for the waiter to clear our plates and set shallow bowls of golden grits topped with fat shrimp in front of us.
I breathed in, momentarily distracted by the garlicky aroma.
“I want you to be that voice, Elena,” he said, pronouncing my name exactly right.
Itook John up on his offer to drop me off downtown on his way to the airport, but when I got to the building, I wasn’t ready to go to my studio.
I opted instead for window-shopping—and maybe some actual shopping—on Royal Street.
The possibility of assuming a more public role for Essex Corp excited me and had me running through scenarios in my head.
It also meant I needed to stay ahead of things with my other clients so I could give everyone the attention they deserved.
I needed to get serious about hiring an assistant.
I made a note on my phone to put placing an ad at the top of my to-do list.
I had to finalize the color choices for Mrs. Acrement’s receiving room.
I’d gotten the job because of the favor Alex’s husband Erik had done for me, letting me decorate his home for the Garden District home tour.
Mrs. Acrement was just one of several clients who’d found me from the tour, and if I managed to please the woman with exacting taste, I’d likely get more referrals.
A walk through Doucette & Co., one of my favorite places for linen and home goods, was exactly the kind of inspiration I needed to help the design gel in my head.
Opening the door with the signature brass bee hardware, I stepped into the cool lavender-scented air. The company made a variety of linen and room sprays, but the lavender was my favorite. I breathed deeply and smiled with pleasure.
“Elena! It’s lovely to see you, gorgeous girl.” Julien Doucette, the shop’s owner, crossed the room to greet me, kissing the air above each of my cheeks. “What can I help you with today?”
“It’s lovely to see you, too,” I said, letting my hand rest briefly on his oxford-cloth covered forearm.
The man was a hopeless flirt, but also very much in love with his partner of thirty-odd years which made the over-the-top compliments feel charming instead of intrusive.
It was funny how that worked, how the perception of a thing almost entirely controlled a person’s reaction to it.
I worked with it all the time—setting up scenarios and creating moments for my clients—but the power of framing experiences never ceased to surprise me.
“I’d like to look around for a bit if that’s all right.”
“Of course. The season’s featured bedding is along the wall over there, and we’ve started to carry a new line of pottery, handmade by an artist in Belle Chasse.
It’s in the back with the Emile Henry.” He motioned to the back of the store where they kept the selection of high-end table accessories.
“Let me know if I can help you with anything.”
“There is one thing.”
“Anything for you, love. You have but to name it.”
I smiled at the older man, barely managing to hold back my eyeroll. “Keep making offers like that, and you’re going to get both of us in trouble with Gregory.”
“Nonsense.” He made a decidedly French sound and waited with a your wish is my command expression on his softly lined face.
“Could you send another set of the Sferra hand towels to the Collins address? Exactly the same as the last order.”
“Of course.”
If he was curious about the duplicate order, he didn’t let it show.
I pulled out my phone to send a quick text to Anna, Jake’s housekeeper, to let her know to expect them.
If I didn’t tell Anna, they’d likely still be in the package buried under a bunch of other things when I showed up at Jake’s place the next time.