Robin Caroll - Framed!

Jocelyn laughed. “Just that we’ve wasted enough time, don’t you think?”

Ava chuckled as well. Joceyln’s excitement was contagious. “Of course. I’d be happy to plan your wedding.” When she’d have time, she hadn’t a clue. “When would you like to meet to set a date and go over preliminary details?”

“Sam and I are both free tomorrow morning. How about the breakfast buffet at the hotel? I’m actually thinking that might work for the wedding reception.”

Nodding, Ava grabbed a pen. “Let’s plan on, say, nine tomorrow morning?”

“Perfect. Thanks, Ava.”

The morning sun shone down on Loomis, despite the fogginess hovering over the bayou. Max slipped his sunglasses into the truck’s holder after parking at Pershing Land Developing. He gazed next door at their real estate office. At least Georgia Duffy’s car wasn’t in the lot. He’d dodged the bullet again. Ever since he’d broken up with her years ago, the woman seemed determined to worm her way back into his life. She’d even gone so far as to work at Pershing Real Estate. The fact that she lived in Pershing Plaza didn’t help matters, either.

He headed into the building on Church Street, nodding at the receptionist on his way to his office.

“Why, Max, aren’t you here bright and early?” Patsy Thomas, his secretary, sounded shocked.

He smiled as he unlocked his office door. “Good morning to you, Patsy.” He winked and turned on his lights. Since he normally came in around ten, he understood her surprise at his darkening the door before nine. “I’m just getting work lined up for the troops as I’ll be out of the office most of today.”

Helping Ava. Getting to be with her again. Working with her.

Patsy followed him into his office, taking his jacket to hang on the brass hooks behind the door. “Playing hooky, are ya?”

“Sort of.” And with the only person he wanted to play hooky with. “Will you bring me the February projections report?”

“Certainly. I’ll bring it with your coffee.”

Max grinned at the secretary who’d served him for more than five years. Patsy was about twenty years older than he and almost motherly, but not in the same manner as Max’s own mother. No, Patsy couldn’t compare with Lenore Pershing. Patsy was kind and gentle. Not a control freak. “Thanks.”

Once alone, he booted up his computer and checked his e-mail. The flood of business had his agents booked solid for the rest of the week. Fear of what would happen to the Renault Corporation after Dylan’s death had everyone running for cover. Ava truly did need his help.

Charla Renault, now there was a woman who could give his own mother a run for her money in the control-freak department. That they were arch rivals and had been for decades…well, it just fit. Everyone in Loomis had long ago picked which side of the feud they fell on, and were very careful not to stray too close to the middle…All because of a marriage that went bad and a public embarrassment generations ago. It made no sense to Max. Then again, there’d been a couple of business deals that went sour because of the family feud over the past couple of years. Still, that hadn’t been enough to send Ava away to boarding school…had it?

Patsy tapped on his door and entered without a response. She set a steaming cup of coffee on the desk in front of him alongside a spreadsheet. “Anything else?”

He took a sip of the black coffee. Strong, just the way he liked it. “Thanks, Pats. I really appreciate it.”

“Want to tell me what’s going on?” She perched on the arm of the leather chair facing his desk.

“I’m just helping out a friend. She needs help managing her company on a temporary basis.” He took another sip, then stared at his secretary.

“What friend?”

He shrugged, but felt the heat creeping across his face. “Just a friend from school who needs a bit of advice.”

Patsy stood and made a clucking sound with her tongue. “That friend wouldn’t happen to be Ms. Ava Renault, now would it?”

Max grinned. “Does it make a difference?”

His secretary chuckled, loud and hearty. “Not to me, but I bet it does to your momma. What’s Lenore say about this?”

The smile slid off his face. “She’s none too happy.”

“Bet that’s putting it mildly.”

“Yeah.” He ran a finger around the lip of the cup. “But I just have to help Ava out.” He lifted his gaze to his secretary’s face.

“I understand.” Patsy moved toward the door. “Have a good day, and I’ll hold down the fort here.”

“Thanks, Pats.”

Someday, sooner rather than later, he was going to have to sit his mother down and tell Lenore to back off from his life. Once he figured out what he really felt for Ava, he would.

Confusion wreaked havoc in his heart. Ava definitely sent him mixed signals—ignoring him for years, even going so far as to cross the street to not have to pass him, refusing any eye contact with him, then working with him on the committee and allowing him to hold her at the funeral. Okay, so she’d been grief stricken. But now she’d called. Twice. Surely that meant something.

Meant she needed help.

No, Ava wasn’t a user. Not like her mother. Or like her brother had been.

Max cringed. He hated to think ill of the dead, but truthfully, everyone in Loomis knew Dylan was a heartbreaker. He used women’s feelings for him when it suited him. And many times, it suited him. Although a couple of weeks ago, he seemed to have changed.

He’d have to think of a way to tell Ava what he knew without setting off her alarms. He’d started to when she asked questions on the phone, but she’d dismissed him. Maybe he’d get a chance today when he worked with her. The idea of working with her lifted his spirits, he had to admit.

Patsy rushed into his office and shut the door. “Max, the sheriff and a deputy are here to see you.”

His heart sank as he struggled to stand. “See me? Whatever for?”

“They said they had some questions for you. Both of them.”

In a bigger city, two local lawmen showing up wouldn’t be a big deal. But here, in St. Tammany parish, if more than one in uniform came with questions, it had to be bad news. Very bad.

Max swallowed against a dry mouth and nodded at his secretary. “Show them in, please, Pats.”

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