The Downfall of a Good Girl Read Online Free PDF Page A

about that. I’m already at a great disadvantage without my sister defecting to the dark side.”
    “Okay, here’s the thing, Vivi. It’s ridiculous, but I’ll backoff. However, I’m not going to listen to you moan about Connor for the next four weeks. It’ll ruin my whole Mardi Gras.”
    Vivi just wished someone had taken that into consideration before they’d stuck her with Connor for the next month. The rest of the city may be planning on
laissez le bons temps rouler
, but her
temps
weren’t looking very
bon
at the moment.
    Connor spent most of Sunday morning and part of the afternoon on the phone with his manager and his agent, but the chore didn’t aggravate him as much when he could sit on a balcony overlooking Royal Street with a
café au lait
and real beignets. The third-floor apartment had been sitting empty while Gabe was in Italy, and Connor appreciated the solitude it offered while still being in the heart of the French Quarter. The street musician below his balcony displayed more enthusiasm than talent, but it was as much a sound of home as the
clop-clop
and jingle of the mule-drawn carriages and the shouts of the tour guides leading groups down the street.
    Sitting here in the winter sunshine, his feet propped up on the wrought-iron rail with nothing to do except let his mind wander…bliss. Until this moment he hadn’t realized how stressed he’d been.
    Even the doctor’s orders to rest his hands and wrists seemed less onerous and restrictive today. The piano wasn’t calling him, and the only workout his hands were getting involved lifting his coffee cup to his mouth repeatedly. Even after hours on the phone his head felt clear, and he could feel his muscles relaxing and the pain receding—no pharmaceutical intervention necessary.
    Yep, bliss. He might just sit here all day and attempt absolutely nothing more strenuous than a solid nap.
    His mother was a bit irritated that he’d chosen to stay in a friend’s apartment instead of his childhood home, but this was a high-profile visit, and he didn’t want photographers or fans staking out his parents’ house and trampling Mom’s flowers. This was just easier.
    He wasn’t the only celebrity to call New Orleans home, but coming straight off tour to the Saints and Sinners fundraiser right after Katy Arras and her accusations…It was best to let that all die down some first.
    People would be used to having him around again soon enough, and in time, it would no longer be big news.
    God, he loved this city.
    Which was why he’d jumped at the chance to be this year’s Sinner. Silliness aside, it was an honor, and he felt very much the hometown boy made good. He was glad his fame guaranteed big money this year for the fundraiser, even if it created an “uneven playing field” that steamed Vivi’s oysters.
    Speaking of Vivi…
    The view from Gabe’s apartment balcony contained a surprise: he had a clear view to the front door to Vivi’s art gallery just a few buildings up Royal. According to Mom, who kept him fully up-to-date on all of the goings-on in New Orleans—
especially
those of her friends and their children—Vivi’s gallery was doing very well, walking the line between art that was accessible and sellable yet still high-end quality.
    Good for Vivi
. He’d had no clue that art was Vivi’s passion, but after years of hearing all about her pageant successes—Good Lord, her reign as Miss Louisiana had been one of the longest years of his life—it was good to know that she could do something other than twirl batons and look pretty. She’d always had brains; it was nice to know she’d finally decided to use them for something.
    Thanks to Mom, he also knew that Vivi wasn’t a surprisechoice for Saint at all. If the city could canonize her they probably would. Vivi was involved in
everything;
any organization that needed a face or a volunteer had Vivi on speed dial. The only surprise was that they hadn’t made her the Saint long