Chapter 7
After parking, Abe strode into Jasper's Bistro. The lunch crowd was beginning to thin out, but the dining room still buzzed with conversation and the gentle clatter of silverware against plates.
He spotted Genevieve at a table with Brooke, so he headed that way. She seemed relieved to see him. "Abe…"
"What happened?" he said. Brooke looked up and motioned for him to sit. He looked from one sister to the other. "I'm here," he said.
Genevieve gave him the highlights of what had transpired, and he wasn't pleased to hear it.
"That's not good," Abe said. "I don't know who the man was, but I can assure you I'll find out."
Brooke stood. "I'll let you guys talk. I must check on the pastry station."
Genevieve looked at Abe. "Can we go somewhere private to talk?" She stood and gave her sister a hug. "I'll call you."
Then, with his arm around her, Abe guided her out of the restaurant. "I know a good place to go."
The drive through the French Quarter was mostly silent. Genevieve occasionally glanced in the side mirror to see if they were being followed. Abe kept his focus on the traffic around them.
"Bourbon Heat has a courtyard," he said as they turned onto Bourbon Street. "It should be quiet this time of day."
Genevieve nodded without turning away from the window. "That sounds good."
The restaurant wasn't far. With its elegant facade, the historic Tricou House was a reminder of New Orleans' grandeur. Bourbon Heat occupied the multilevel structure, with a fifty-foot balcony offering spectacular views of the street below.
Intent on privacy, Abe led Genevieve through the main entrance toward the back courtyard.
The lush oasis was a hidden sanctuary away from the bustling energy of Bourbon Street.
Tropical plants created natural privacy screens between tables, and the afternoon sun filtered through the canopy of trees, casting dappled shadows across the brick courtyard floor.
The space was nearly empty except for a couple of tourists sharing a late lunch at a corner table. Abe chose a secluded table beneath a flowering magnolia tree. He helped Genevieve with her chair, then sat across from her.
The quiet of the courtyard was welcome, the silence broken only by the gentle splash of a fountain and distant jazz music drifting from nearby venues. It was a good place for Genevieve to relax.
A server approached with menus, but Abe waved them away. "Just drinks, please. I'll have a bourbon, neat. And for the lady?"
"One of your inventive cocktails," Genevieve said. "Something with rum. I need something stronger than coffee right now."
When the server left, Genevieve said, "I keep thinking about how professional that man looked. He wasn't a random music fan who recognized me. I'm guessing that someone hired him to document where I was and who I was with."
Abe leaned forward. "Tell me what you recall."
"He was well dressed, and I'd say he was in his forties.
He wore a navy sport jacket that looked expensive.
" Genevieve paused before continuing. "But it was his positioning that bothered me.
He chose a table that gave him a clear view of where Brooke and I were sitting, and his phone was angled toward us the entire time. "
"Did you see him actually take photos?"
"Not obviously, but he picked up his phone then angled it toward me. That happened more than once." She rubbed her forehead. "And when we noticed him, he left immediately. He didn't finish his meal. He just tossed money on the table and walked out."
The server returned with their drinks. Genevieve's cocktail arrived in a hurricane glass, garnished with fresh fruit and a tiny paper umbrella. She took a couple of sips.
Abe tasted his bourbon, perfection in a glass. "Genevieve, I need to share what we discovered this morning at Guardian Investigations. And I want to answer your questions the best that I can."
She sat straighter. "What did you learn?"
"Jason's rise in the music industry hasn't been as organic as it appeared on the surface." Abe kept his voice low.
"I'm aware that his advancement was unusually rapid."
"It's likely that he had help, or he's been using methods that run outside of acceptable business practices," Abe said. He didn't want to overwhelm her but needed her to understand the scope of what they were dealing with.
He took a gulp of his drink. "There are articles in industry publications questioning how he's managed to undercut established labels for venue contracts, and how certain artists under competing management have faced unexpected issues."
Genevieve widened her eyes. "You think he's been doing to other people what he did to me last night? Sabotaging their reputations?"
"That's exactly what we think," he said. "I believe that Jason has been systematically undermining anyone who stands between him and what he wants."
"He used his power as a weapon?" she said. "That's playing dirty. If he's destroying careers, surely people would notice. How does he get away with it?"
"His actions are protected by plausible deniability." Abe waited for that to sink in. "For example, he positions himself as looking out for the industry's best interests, warning about problematic artists. By the time anyone realizes what's happening, the damage is done."
Genevieve picked up her cocktail and took a long sip. "That's extremely conniving." She thought about that for a moment. "So, the surveillance at Jasper's…"
"He has resources," Abe said. "And he seems to have no qualms about using his money and connections to get what he wants."
The courtyard's peaceful atmosphere, surrounded by blooming flowers and the gentle sounds of the fountain, no longer felt tranquil.
"I need some air," Genevieve said, then finished her drink. "Can we walk for a bit?"
*****
Abe took her to Coliseum Park in a residential area not far from the restaurant. The afternoon sun slanted through the towering oak trees, creating patches of golden light on the grass. Children played on the playground, and couples strolled along the winding paths.
Abe gave Genevieve space but stayed close. She strolled for a bit before sharing her thoughts. "It's hard to believe that someone could be so heartless," she said, and paused beside an ornate iron bench. "When I knew Jason before, he was controlling and manipulative, but this…"
"I'm not sure how far he'll go," Abe said. "But if he follows the pattern—"
Genevieve's phone rang. She glanced at the screen. "It's Jason."
"Answer it, but let's sit down first." He guided her to the bench, positioning himself close enough to hear the conversation. "Put it on speaker."
With trembling fingers, Genevieve accepted the call.
"Genevieve…" Jason said. Gone was any trace of the menacing undertone from their previous encounters. "I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time."
She glanced at Abe, who nodded encouragingly. "What do you want, Jason?"
"I wanted to check on you. I heard you had a lovely lunch with your sister today. Brooke looked radiant. Marriage clearly agrees with her."
The casual mention of her lunch made it clear that he wasn't trying to hide the fact that he was having her watched.
"I'm so pleased you could spend quality time with family," Jason said. "Family relationships are so important, don't you think? I've always admired how close you and Brooke are."
"Jason, why are you calling me?"
"Because I care about you, and I always have." His effort at genuine emotion fell flat for Genevieve.
After a beat, he continued, "I know our history has been complicated, but I want you to know that everything I've ever done has been because I believe in your talent and your potential."
Abe recognized the manipulation tactic. Jason was rewriting their history, positioning himself as a supportive figure rather than a controlling one.
"Are you alone?" Jason asked, his tone shifting slightly. "I'd prefer this conversation to be private."
Genevieve looked at Abe, who shook his head firmly. "What I do and who I'm with isn't your business, Jason."
There was a pause, and for just a moment, she tried to anticipate what was behind Jason's carefully modulated tone. Abe's expression mirrored what she was feeling.
Jason barely faltered. "I respect your independence. I always have. That's one of the things I admire about you."
"Then respect it now and don't call me again."
"Genevieve, I'm warning you," Jason said, his tone shifting.
"You don't want to press me. You won't like the consequences.
" As if realizing he'd gone off script, he added, "I'm not your enemy.
In fact, I want to help you succeed." His voice had taken on an almost paternal quality, and Genevieve realized what a chameleon he was.
Jason hadn't ended the call yet. "The music industry can be brutal, especially for independent artists. You need someone in your corner who understands how things work."
Genevieve considered hanging up but was riveted. "I'm doing fine on my own."
"Are you…even after how it ended with Stephen Canton last night?" Jason said. "It's such a shame when opportunities slip away."
The reference to her sabotaged meeting with the music executive made Genevieve's blood boil. Jason's tone was sympathetic, as if he were offering condolences rather than admitting that he'd destroyed her chance.
"That's why I want you to know that my door is always open," he said. "When you're ready to move forward with your career in a positive way, I'll happily take you back. I've built a substantial foundation, Genevieve. I have the resources and connections to take your talent to the next level."
"I don't want anything from you."