Sweetheart Bride

Brenna swallowed her trepidations and told herself she could be professional and businesslike. She would not mix any pleasure with this business. She needed work to keep her mind off her many failures.

“Okay,” she said as she slid into the seat and poured herself some coffee from the pot she’d left on the table. “Fifteen minutes.”

“I can handle that,” he said. “Let’s pretend this is a real job interview. Tell me about yourself.”

Okay, now she was nervous. Sitting here in a T-shirt and jeans didn’t feel professional. And she didn’t have her résumé in front of her. “Well, I went to LSU in Baton Rouge, majored in Art History and minored in Business. For the past three years, I’ve worked in the Hutton Gallery as a curator and director of operations. But budget cuts caused me to be laid off indefinitely.” She sat back against the booth. “As you’ve probably noticed, there isn’t much in the way of art here in Fleur.”

He nodded. “You don’t appreciate the Fleur Bayou Museum?”

“Of course.” She grinned. “I helped create that museum when I was still in high school. But I never could find anyone willing to keep it open on a daily basis. It’s only open when Mrs. LaBorde’s gout isn’t acting up—which is a whole lot these days. So the museum is more neglected than noticed.”

He burst out laughing, his dark eyes sparkling. “I think I met Mrs. LaBorde at the wedding. Charming woman.”

“You’re just being polite,” she said, touched that he’d enjoyed her joke. “She loves working at the museum, but she does have a life, after all.”

“And it is a small place,” he added. “I checked it out the first day I arrived. I wanted to get a sense of the place. And now that I know you had a hand in the content of that one-room history trove, I’m doubly impressed.”

“So did it help you to understand the history of this area?”

“It did.”

He started asking her questions about the Cajun and Creole history of Fleur and the Spanish influence of the area. Before Brenna knew it, thirty minutes had passed.

“Oh, I have to get back to work! Sorry we didn’t get to discuss Fleur House and what you might need from me.”

He stood when she did, then reached out for her hand. “You’re hired.”

Surprised, Brenna took his hand and shook it. Or rather let him shake her hand. “But you don’t even know if I’m right for this job.”

“Oh, you’re perfect.”

Relieved and pleased but a bit wary, Brenna pulled her hand away. “And how do you know that?”

He gave her one of those simmering looks again. “By the way your eyes lit up when you were talking about that little shanty museum you created. You love this area and you love art. That’s all I need to know.”

Her heart did a little flip of gratefulness. Jeffrey had never understood her deep love of history and art. He’d teased her about finding a real job with a real salary. He’d never appreciated the town of Fleur, either. Called it a hick-boonie town.

“So what do you say? Do you want the job?”

“Well, yes.” Her heart raced with excitement. “That was easy.”

“I think so, too. Because you’re the first art expert I’ve interviewed today and probably the last, I’d say breakfast was a success.”

“Thank you,” she said to Nick. “When do you want me to start?”

“Immediately,” he replied. “But you can wait until your sister is back. I know you’re needed here.”

“Good. I appreciate that. But I can put in a few hours at the house between the lunch and dinner shifts. Besides, Alma will be back next Monday.”

“That should work out great.” He dropped a twenty on the table. “I enjoyed the meal and the conversation.”

Brenna didn’t know what to say. “I’m glad you did. I guess I’ll see you Monday. Where should I meet you?”

“At the house,” he said. “We’ll do a walk-through.” Then he touched her arm. “But aren’t you forgetting something?”

“I can’t think of anything,” she said, alarmed. “Have I messed up already?”

He laughed. “Relax. You’ve done everything right. Except ask about the salary? Don’t you want to know about the pay?”

Brenna breathed a sigh of relief. “I’d probably do it for free, but pretend you didn’t hear me say that.”

“I didn’t.” He smiled and named an amount. “Does that sound fair?”

Brenna tried to hide her surprise. He’d just offered her more than she’d made in a year for what should be a short amount of work. “More than fair,” she replied. “And Nick, thank you.”

“It will be my pleasure,” he said, his gaze dropping to her face. Then he handed her a card. “Here’s my number. I’ll be in touch.”

Brenna hurriedly scribbled her cell number on the back of a napkin. “And mine, in case you change your mind.”

“I won’t,” he said. He gave her another devastating smile and strolled out of the café.

When Brenna heard a whoop and some giggles coming from the back of the restaurant, she hurried to do some damage control. Rumors would be flying, no doubt about that. She was in way over her head with this man. No doubt about that, either.

Chapter Three

Callie came waltzing into the café and strolled around the counter to pour herself a cup of coffee. “I hear Nick came by to see you this morning,” she called to Brenna.

Cringing for the second time that day, Brenna shut the door to the supply closet and grabbed her smirking sister by the arm. “Do you have to announce that so loud they heard it in New Orleans?”

“Well, did he or didn’t he come by?” Callie asked, her loosely knotted bun bouncing against her head. Why did she always have to be so perky?

“Yes, he came to eat breakfast,” Brenna replied. “And how do you know this already?”

“I have my sources,” Callie said, spinning on her short suede boots. She slid onto a barstool and did a matching twirl. “I knew you two would hit it off right away.”

“We didn’t hit it off,” Brenna replied while she stacked napkins into the nearby holder. “But he did offer me a good job.”

Callie actually clapped. “Sounds like you did more than just hit it off. This is better than I expected.”

Brenna held up her hand. “Whoa! Don’t get the wrong idea. We clicked enough that I think I can enjoy working for him. The man offered me a huge amount of money, so yes, we got to know each other rather quickly.”

Callie beamed with pride. “I told you he’d hire you on the spot, didn’t I?”

“You did and he did,” Brenna confessed. “It seems a bit too easy to me. I’m afraid there’s a catch.”

“What catch? No catch other than you’ll be doing the work you love with a handsome man who also appreciates art and beautiful homes.” Callie grabbed a piece of sweet potato pie and began to dig in with relish. “Oh, this is so good. I love Winnie’s sweet potato pie.”

Brenna giggled. “I can tell.” She took a fork and had a bite, then dropped the fork onto a napkin. “I miss Alma.”