Free French Quarter by Stella Cameron Page A

someone to help you with the day-to-day runnin’ of things. Do you think you’d be comfortable takin’ over as liaison with the hospital and parents?”
    She was silent for a moment, and he knew he didn’t imagine the chill that entered the room. “I’m comfortable taking over everything.”
    This was something else he’d been afraid of. “I wouldn’t expect you to do that. It’s too much for one person. Too much for two. You need someone to deal with your administrative tasks. That’ll free you up to concentrate on what you do best. Charm the people.”
    “I’m not just charming, Jack. I’ve got a mind. Errol made sure I could do his job if necessary.”
    “You and Errol were very close.”
    “So you keep reminding me, and we were. But not the way you think.”
    “What way do 1 think?”
    She colored again. Blushing suited her. “You think there was some romantic attachment between Errol and me. There wasn’t. You can choose to believe that or not—I can’t make you. But it’s true.”
    He shouldn’t want to believe it quite as much as he did. “It isn’t my business.”
    “But you keep alluding to it anyway. Look, I came here out of politeness. I know you have money in Dreams, but I also know you aren’t the kind of man who’s interested in a hands-on involvement. I’m ready to assume responsibility, but I do need some help, and I’ll hire it.”
    “You do that,” he said, thinking fast. “You’ll be able to stay on in Royal Street, if that’s what you want to do.”
    She faced him again. Up close she was translucent. Her mouth was the full-lipped, naturally slightly puckered type that made a man think thoughts he hadn’t planned on.
    “The Royal Street house was Errol’s. He owned it.”
    Jack owned it—he’d bought it when Errol showed signs of losing it, and Errol had been making payments to Jack for years.
    “There shouldn’t be any hitch to keeping the headquarters where they are,” he told her.
    “I never knew anything about his extended family,” Celina said. “He never mentioned them. But I expect they may want to sell the house.”
    “It belongs to me,” he said without looking at her. “I have no plans to sell. Don’t you think it would be a good idea to keep things as status quo as possible? People have an odd way of reacting negatively if they think there’s anythin’ shaky going on.
    “The house belongs to you?”
    He should have expected her to be shocked. “Errol had some problems—financial type—some years back. Jason’s illness just about wiped him out. He sold to me and then started buying it back again. That house has been in his family since the late eighteen hundreds.”
    “Jack.” She gave him her full, more than a little disconcerting attention. “I was no part of whatever happened to Errol. You believe that, don’t you?”
    He said, “Yes,” more because it was what she needed to hear than because he absolutely believed it.
    “When will we hear the results of the coroner’s findings?”
    “When they’re ready to give them to us. You can be certain they’re as busy as little bees right now, flitting back and forth seeing what they can dig up on each of us, and on Errol.”
    “I’m boring,” she said. “There’s nothing to dig up on me.”
    The timing was wrong for him to tell her he found her anything but boring, but wished he didn’t. “Errol had a past,” he said. “I’m not talking out of school when I say that. You know some of it yourself. My so-called past isn’t my own, but it’s plenty interestin’, and if they decide to get into it all over again, we’ll see stuff no one wants to see again—least of all me.”
    “When people are reminded of what made Errol want to start Dreams, they’ll forget the other.”
    He wished he was as certain as she was. “Maybe.”
    “Oh, I just know they will. People are good at heart, especially when it comes to helping children.”
    There would never be an easy time to tell