left him standing there to contemplate what a stupid bastard he’d been. To go after her would mean making a scene, and he almost did it … except Barry was there again, this time with that politician in tow, and Elliott lost sight of Simone in the party crowd.
“Talk to me,” said the politician.
Trent Boudreaux. Twenty-eight years old, working for his daddy. Not married, but with an on-again, off-again relationship with one Miss Muffy Hedges, who may or may not have once thrown an engagement ring in his face during a late-night argument over another woman. Boudreaux had held a nice, solid seat on the Plaquemines Parish school board for two years, and was running for state senate. He had one DUI and a couple other misdemeanors that could be chalked up to youthful hijinks during college, especially once Daddy’s wallet had come out to take care of it.
All of this information had been gleaned from Elliott’s Internet searching, all handed over to Barry to use as he needed. None of it surprised Elliott. The man in front of him, permanently tanned, constantly grinning, was every inch the typical politician, except for one thing. Trent Boudreaux had a soft spot for charity work. True charity work, not just for show. In addition to his college pranks and drunk and disorderlies, he’d spent several summers volunteering in Haiti to build orphanages and schools, as well as taking part in several local builds with a Louisiana organization that provided low-cost housing to families who helped with the labor.
The connection made sense–why Barry wanted to get hooked up with this guy. Building supplies. Construction deals. And with the charitable aspect of it, it was one of the more honorable deals Barry had wheeled. It still left a sour taste in Elliott’s mouth, if only because the amount of ass-kissing he suspected this guy was going to require more pucker than Elliott could muster.
Boudreaux had been talking for a few minutes about nothing much before he stopped and gave Elliott a long, hard stare. “Am I boring you?”
“No. Not at all.” Elliott stopped scanning the crowd for Simone and focused on Boudreaux.
“How long have you known Barry?” Boudreaux tossed back the rest of his whiskey, the second by Elliott’s count since they’d started their conversation. Not that it mattered; Elliott liked whiskey. He just knew how to handle himself in public. Trent waved over a server to give up the empty glass and ordered another. “Get you something?”
Even if he hadn’t made it a habit to curb himself in public, that was the last thing Elliott needed. Him swimming with whiskey and Simone in the same room. “No, thanks.”
“Barry. How long have you and him been buddies?”
“Since college. Barry lived in the same dorm,” Elliott said. “We were never roommates, but we stayed in touch even after graduation. Why? How long have you known him?”
“Barry? Oh, he’s my daddy’s friend,” said Boudreaux in that thick, sweet drawl with a grin to match. “He sure does like to talk, though, don’t he?”
Elliott laughed. “Yeah. He sure likes to talk.”
“She’s out on the balcony, by the way,” said Boudreaux. “That girl you’re sweet on.”
Elliott didn’t ask how Boudreaux knew how he felt about Simone. The man was smarter than Elliott had given him credit for. “So. Will you buy the stuff from Barry?”
Boudreaux lifted his glass. “Sure. Why not. Will you go talk to that girl before the both of you burn this place down with the looks you’re giving each other?”
“I’m not giving her any looks.”
“No?” Boudreaux laughed. “Maybe it’s just her, then.”
* * *
Simone never should have come to this party. She’d known it was going to be a bad idea the moment Barry had asked her. Even though it had been totally flattering to hear that the future governor of Louisiana had asked for her especially, and she’d only planned on being here long enough to make Elliott
“Talk to me,” said the politician.
Trent Boudreaux. Twenty-eight years old, working for his daddy. Not married, but with an on-again, off-again relationship with one Miss Muffy Hedges, who may or may not have once thrown an engagement ring in his face during a late-night argument over another woman. Boudreaux had held a nice, solid seat on the Plaquemines Parish school board for two years, and was running for state senate. He had one DUI and a couple other misdemeanors that could be chalked up to youthful hijinks during college, especially once Daddy’s wallet had come out to take care of it.
All of this information had been gleaned from Elliott’s Internet searching, all handed over to Barry to use as he needed. None of it surprised Elliott. The man in front of him, permanently tanned, constantly grinning, was every inch the typical politician, except for one thing. Trent Boudreaux had a soft spot for charity work. True charity work, not just for show. In addition to his college pranks and drunk and disorderlies, he’d spent several summers volunteering in Haiti to build orphanages and schools, as well as taking part in several local builds with a Louisiana organization that provided low-cost housing to families who helped with the labor.
The connection made sense–why Barry wanted to get hooked up with this guy. Building supplies. Construction deals. And with the charitable aspect of it, it was one of the more honorable deals Barry had wheeled. It still left a sour taste in Elliott’s mouth, if only because the amount of ass-kissing he suspected this guy was going to require more pucker than Elliott could muster.
Boudreaux had been talking for a few minutes about nothing much before he stopped and gave Elliott a long, hard stare. “Am I boring you?”
“No. Not at all.” Elliott stopped scanning the crowd for Simone and focused on Boudreaux.
“How long have you known Barry?” Boudreaux tossed back the rest of his whiskey, the second by Elliott’s count since they’d started their conversation. Not that it mattered; Elliott liked whiskey. He just knew how to handle himself in public. Trent waved over a server to give up the empty glass and ordered another. “Get you something?”
Even if he hadn’t made it a habit to curb himself in public, that was the last thing Elliott needed. Him swimming with whiskey and Simone in the same room. “No, thanks.”
“Barry. How long have you and him been buddies?”
“Since college. Barry lived in the same dorm,” Elliott said. “We were never roommates, but we stayed in touch even after graduation. Why? How long have you known him?”
“Barry? Oh, he’s my daddy’s friend,” said Boudreaux in that thick, sweet drawl with a grin to match. “He sure does like to talk, though, don’t he?”
Elliott laughed. “Yeah. He sure likes to talk.”
“She’s out on the balcony, by the way,” said Boudreaux. “That girl you’re sweet on.”
Elliott didn’t ask how Boudreaux knew how he felt about Simone. The man was smarter than Elliott had given him credit for. “So. Will you buy the stuff from Barry?”
Boudreaux lifted his glass. “Sure. Why not. Will you go talk to that girl before the both of you burn this place down with the looks you’re giving each other?”
“I’m not giving her any looks.”
“No?” Boudreaux laughed. “Maybe it’s just her, then.”
* * *
Simone never should have come to this party. She’d known it was going to be a bad idea the moment Barry had asked her. Even though it had been totally flattering to hear that the future governor of Louisiana had asked for her especially, and she’d only planned on being here long enough to make Elliott
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