The Downfall of a Good Girl Page 12

  “You’re gorgeous, Vivi.”

  His compliment shook her out of her shock. A quick inventory told her she wasn’t staring openmouthed or drooling. “You look pretty darn good yourself.”

  An eyebrow arched up. “We better go quickly, then.”

  “What? Why?”

  “You look good enough to eat in small, slow bites, and we’ll never make our reservation if I indulge.”

  The words carried promise and warning, and they nearly caused her to wobble again. Who cared about their reservation? Who needed food anyway? This, though…

  She took a step forward.

  The buzz of the intercom stopped her.

  “That’s our taxi.” Connor opened the door for her and waited, but her feet didn’t want to move. “You ready?”

  No. “Sure.”

  The cab driver did a double-take when he saw Connor, and then spent much of the trip with one eye on the rearview mirror. Connor just shrugged good-naturedly and thanked the cabbie when he got effusive over Connor’s music. Vivi knew it was a normal occurrence, and tried not to let it bother her that she couldn’t talk to her date because the cabbie was. Connor apologized with a smile and a squeeze of her knee. And when the driver asked for a picture with Connor to add to his collection of celebrities he’d driven, Vivi got to play photographer.

  Connor’s life was different, that was for sure.

  It wasn’t until the taxi pulled away that Vivi realized she’d been so distracted that she hadn’t realized where they were. “LaSalle is three blocks that way.”

  “I know. I wanted to show you this first.”

  Vivi looked around. She knew exactly where she was—Julia Street in the Warehouse District—but she didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Connor was pointing at an old three-story coffee warehouse that hadn’t benefited yet from the revival of the neighborhood. “What am I looking at?”

  “My new building.” He held up a key ring. “I closed this afternoon, after I left the food bank.” Connor unlocked the door and it swung open on rusty protesting hinges.

  Vivi followed him inside, and Connor flipped on the light.

  The inside was as dilapidated as the outside, but the exposed brick walls and hardwood floors held promise of future beauty. It was a huge space, and their footsteps echoed.

  “What do you need a warehouse for?”

  Connor’s grin spread from ear to ear. “This is the future home of ConMan Records.”

  He seemed to think she’d have a clue what that meant, but whatever it was he was proud and excited about it. The enthusiasm was contagious. “I’m not entirely sure what that means, but congratulations nonetheless.”

  “It means that a lot of new doors are opening.”

  “Wow. You’re thinking about going out on your own?”

  “It’s a possibility. Something I’ve been thinking about for a while now.”

  “Looking for artistic freedom?”

  “That’s some of it. I must admit, though, after spending time with Imps and Cherubims, I’ve also been thinking about doing something to encourage more music education for local kids. Some kind of outreach or something. Not sure what, exactly, but the label and the studio can be part of that.”

  This was a new aspect of Connor, and Vivi’s chest warmed at the generosity of spirit it displayed. Connor was quick to write a check, but this would be something more than just distant philanthropy. Her mind immediately began to whirl, thinking of community programs, fundraising opportunities…

  The habits of a lifetime in non-profit work, though, didn’t stop another thought from barging in, and the whirl of ideas ground to a halt. “So this means you’re moving home? Fulltime?”

  He shook his head. “Not full-time, but I’m going to convert the top floor into an apartment for me, because I do plan to be in town a lot more in the future.”

  Oh. She didn’t know what to say to that. This fling with Connor was doable and reasonable and understandable because he was only here temporarily. Being reckless and bad could be acceptable if it were only for a short while. If she’d known he was planning on reestablishing a base here…

  And they were about to be very publicly connected…

  Damn it. Things had just gotten really complicated.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THERE was a reason LaSalle stayed booked. Sure, it was trendy, and the current hot spot created by a celebrity chef, but in Connor’s experience, trendy hot spots were usually highly overrated. LaSalle, though…Another bite of the bread pudding might kill him, but letting it go to waste seemed like a cardinal sin.

  Vivi eyeballed the last bite, but put her fork down and admitted defeat. “I simply can’t. You’re going to have to carry me out of here as it is.”

  “I was hoping you’d carry me.”

  “Then we’ll just have to sit here until we can walk.” She sipped at her coffee. “In my case, that’s looking like sometime next week.”

  “Sitting is an excellent idea.”

  While the view across the table from him had kept the internal fires stoked, he was, unbelievably enough, having an excellent time anyway. Vivi’s simple black dress clung to every curve, and the neckline was just low enough to showcase the gentle swell of her cleavage and classic double string of pearls without crossing over into a tacky advertisement of her charms. She’d pulled her hair up into some kind of fancy twist, leaving the elegant column of her neck bare.

  He wanted her, but anticipation was part of the attraction and excitement. He wasn’t in a rush—well, he was, but he was enjoying this, too.

  After so long on the road, and living that life, he’d forgotten what it was like to be in the company of a lady. A well-bred, well-mannered, well-spoken, real Southern lady. Of course, he wouldn’t expect Vivi to be anything less, but to his amazement he was utterly captivated by it. By her.

  Vivi was sharp and smart; she had both the business sense and the non-profit experience to converse about his ideas for ConMan and outreach to the community. They had enough in common for conversation to flow easily, yet they were different enough to keep it interesting. She never bored him, and he was someone who was bored easily. She was gracious and amusing and charming, and she wasn’t the least bit impressed by him. The honesty was refreshing. His ego should be smarting, but it made her responses genuine.

  Now Connor understood why his father always cringed at his West Coast love affairs with starlets and musicians. In comparison to someone like Vivi…There simply wasn’t a comparison.

  Vivi’s smile faded a little and she looked uncomfortable again as three people on the sidewalk pressed against the window of LaSalle, pointing and waving. One even tried to put a camera against the glass for a picture. Other patrons of the restaurant looked annoyed, but Vivi’s discomfort got his attention.

  “Just try to ignore it, Vivi.”

  “How? You can’t even take a taxi or eat in peace. How do you ignore it?”

  “It takes practice. Mainly I just try to remember that for some people celebrity-spotting is the biggest or best thing that’s happened to them today. Or maybe even this week or this month. They’ll post it to Facebook and Twitter and impress their friends and that will make them happy.”

  “At your expense?”

  “Like I said, I owe my career to a million people I’ve never met. It seems a little petty to complain now.”

  She nodded, but picked up her coffee and turned slightly away from the window.

  “Come on, Vivi, I know it’s been a while, but surely you remember what it’s like for people to want that brush with fame. You’ve done the photo ops.”

  “Yes, but not like this. People didn’t normally recognize me unless I was wearing a crown and sash. Even then, they didn’t know my name or who I was beyond Miss Louisiana. I wasn’t famous. My title was famous. That’s a big difference.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Fine. Name one Miss Louisiana other than me,” she challenged.

  She
had him there. “Uh…”

  “I’ll go even easier. Who’s the current Miss America? Or any Miss America other than Vanessa Williams.”

  Since he’d have been hard-pressed even to come up with Vanessa Williams, he had to admit defeat. “Regardless, you’re still Vivienne LaBlanc. Everyone in New Orleans knows you.”

  “But they don’t stalk me at restaurants to take my picture.”

  “Would you want them to?”

  “You know, that kind of fame sounds good in theory, but now that I’ve seen it in practice…” She looked out the window, where the crowd had grown. “Maybe not.”

  “I can’t control the paparazzi—not the professionals and not the amateurs. They come with the territory. If that’s a problem for you…”

  Vivi studied her napkin. He could almost see the wheels spinning inside her head. She finally looked up and met his eyes. “Lorelei says that we’ll be on every blog by midnight.”

  “She’s not wrong.”

  “I never planned on being infamous.”

  “You will be by morning.”

  He saw understanding dawn in her eyes. “I didn’t think this through all the way. Did you?”

  He didn’t have to “think this through.” This was just his life. “Vivi, you yourself said that tonight would make this public.”

  She swallowed. “I don’t think I quite realized how public.”

  Time for those hard truths he’d promised her. “Until now your comings and goings at Gabe’s have gone unnoticed. Once those pictures hit the blogs, there’s a good chance someone will remember that they saw you there. Other people will start looking for you. If you walk out of here with me tonight there’s no going back. You’ll just have to ride it out.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  He took a deep breath. “No one could really blame me for trying to charm you. And we could claim that tonight’s dinner had something to do with Saints and Sinners. There will still be speculation, but it’ll fade. You have quite the reputation around here as a good girl, so folks will believe you. But, of course, that will be it for us.”

  Connor didn’t like the rock that settled in his stomach as he said that. But Vivi had to realize that truth. And so did he. It had to be said, if for no other reason than to make him acknowledge it. The importance of this moment had sneaked up on him. He didn’t like that.

  “There’s no way we can sneak around when everyone’s looking out for just that.”

  Vivi blew out her breath in a long sigh. “Good Lord, I thought this was just going to be a quiet dinner. I had no idea it was some kind of point of no return.”

  Indeed. Vivi had a choice to make—and he had to, in all fairness, give her the opportunity to make it. Part of him wanted to argue his case, but he resisted. Instead, he signaled for the check, putting the ball in her court. “If you’re going, now’s a good time. Have the maître d’ call you a cab and be seen by that crowd getting into it alone.”

  “I understand.” She fell quiet.

  So did he, but he wasn’t expecting the disappointment that had come with her words. Boy, this was a record even for him. He shouldn’t care. They’d had their fun; they could part ways now, before ugliness set in to make the future unpleasant. But something unfamiliar spread through his stomach at the thought of Vivi walking out now. His cynical inner voice told him it would be better and safer if she did, but it didn’t stop him from hoping that she might not. That hope left his inner cynic howling a protest that told him to get out now.

  What a mess. And in public, too. He left a hefty tip—even bigger than usual—so if the server was asked about tonight she’d have a good story to tell and maybe keep from mentioning anything she’d inadvertently overheard. He pocketed the receipt, but Vivi still sat there.

  “Well?”

  She picked up her purse. “I’m ready when you are.”

  It took a minute for her words to sink in, but even as they did he kept his optimism on a short leash. The maître d’ stepped outside to shoo the crowd away from the door and flagged down a taxi.

  It coasted to a stop at the curb, and Vivi still seemed like she was going to go through with this. He wasn’t holding his breath, though. Vivi had a lot on the line. When he stepped outside, the flashes seemed blinding after the tastefully dim interior of LaSalle. Vivi kept her eyes on the buttons of her coat at first, but then she stepped forward and tucked her hand under his arm.

  He wasn’t prepared for the effect that simple gesture would have on him.

  A gasp rose from the gathered crowd. Or maybe that was just his brain misfiring in shock. Head held high, Vivi looked calm, like she hadn’t just tortured herself over this mere minutes ago. It was a small gesture, but one that would be as good as gold for the bloggers. People started shouting questions, but Vivi let him help her into the taxi, and then, in full view of the gawking crowd, kissed him as he closed the door behind them.

  “You’ve done it now.”

  She smiled. “I know.”

  “Why, Vivi?”

  “Because you only live once. And right now I’m not ready to be done with this.”

  A week ago, Vivi had convinced herself that Connor’s predictions were overstated and hysterical. Now—well, she wanted to be angry at him for his knack for understatement. She felt like she was living in a damn circus.

  She’d had an uptick in attention after the announcement of the Sinner and Saint, but it had mostly been local. The non-local attention had really just been reflected off Connor. It had been noticeable, but small. But now…

  The email address for the gallery overflowed with interview requests, questions and fan mail she was supposed to pass along to Connor. She’d had to turn the ringer off on the phone at the gallery days ago, before the constant noise drove everyone insane, and now she just checked the voice mail a few times a day. Thankfully no one had gotten hold of her personal email address or her cell phone number, so she could still do some business. The gallery itself was hopping, but it was mostly gawkers, not buyers, and she’d had to hire additional staff just for crowd control. She certainly couldn’t be in there during opening hours; she’d learned that just two days after their “quiet dinner” had exploded.

  Her address had gotten out very easily, and plenty of people now stalked her house, either hoping for a glimpse of Connor or hoping to get a comment from her. Her house didn’t have a fence or a gated courtyard, so people could just walk up to her front door—and many had. No wonder Connor had never come to her house. After she’d found one photographer hiding in the bushes under her bedroom window, Daddy had finally hired a private security firm to keep them off her property.

  Lorelei had enjoyed the attention at first, but it had gotten old fast for her, too, and she was spending more time at their parents’ house—which did have a nice big fence to keep people away.

  Lord, just the walk from the gallery to Connor’s apartment was like running a gauntlet sometimes. And with people from all over coming in for the parades and the Mardi Gras celebrations, there always seemed to be a fresh onslaught.

  And, coming off Connor’s recent run in the tabloids, everyone wanted to know who she was—who she used to be. If one more picture of her in crown and sash hit the papers she might barf. There were plenty of photos of her that were far more current, but everyone loved the beauty queen angle. The press was having a heyday with Bad-Boy Connor and Good-Girl Vivi from past to present. There was a quest for dirt on her, but at least she knew she was safe there: she really was a good girl and there was no dirt to be found.

  But even her reputation didn’t stop folks from speculating—pretty graphically, at times—about what she and Connor were up to. Every day she hated Katy Arras and her lies a little more.

  They were certainly a popular couple, regardless of the speculation. At first, being dropped into Connor’s world had been jarring. She hadn’t realized how difficult it really was to be that famous. Everything Connor did—what he wore, where he went, what he ate�
�was interesting to someone, somewhere.

  And that made her interesting to people as well.

  She’d been offered several ways to cash in on her newfound notoriety and popularity and at Connor’s insistence had hired a manager to field those offers. While many of the offers seemed like seedy and skeevy ways to cash in on her fame quickly, this circus had reignited a part of her career she’d thought long behind her. She was being asked to speak to groups—maybe even consider writing a book—on the platforms she’d promoted as Miss Louisiana, the work she’d done since then in non-profits and the arts, all the way up to and including beauty tips. It was like the whole country had woken up and decided she might have something worthwhile to say. Her fifteen minutes weren’t quite up, it seemed, which was both good and bad.

  What kind of world was it where fame came knocking solely because of who you dated? Welcome to the era of the internet and twenty-four-hour news. It made people famous for sleeping with someone famous.

  Ugh. Her faith in humanity was being sorely tried.

  The sad and slightly scary part, though, was that she really didn’t mind. She was having that good of a time. Top of the list of Things She Thought She Would Never, Ever Say was Connor is totally worth it. Yet he was.

  And that might be the truly freaky part. Connor had offered her an escape route, and she’d walked right by. She’d told herself at LaSalle that nothing had really changed beyond public awareness and a less definite timeframe, but that wasn’t proving to be true. There was something else—something she wasn’t quite willing to explore too deeply yet—that made the circus totally worthwhile.

  All in all, this was the oddest experience of her life—dwarfing even the madness of the Miss America contest—but it was also the most incredible. So, in that way, it kind of balanced out.

  Either that or she was totally losing her mind.

  Vivi shut down her computer and turned off the lights in the gallery’s office. She’d come in an hour ago at closing time to catch up on some paperwork, but focus wouldn’t come. At least I got the bills paid. The electricity would stay on and the staff would get their paychecks, so that was enough for tonight.