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Deanna Trehorn did not want to be doing this job. Oh, she liked her real job. But this was one of those jobs where her boss said, ‘hey, weren’t you a pageant queen once?’ and she was stupid enough to say ‘yes.’

Mardi Gras in New Orleans was like Easter at the Vatican. You took it very seriously. Of course, Mardi Gras was a party, a drunken party, a food fest, a musical extravaganza, parades, floats, and a religious holiday all rolled into one.

This year, her boss volun–told her to choose the carnival queen for the main float. It was terrible. Worse than judging a toddler beauty pageant, thought Deanna. She should have refused this ‘perk’ from her boss, but she had the foolish idea it would be fun. Something different than spreadsheets and tax forms.

It was different, alright. Mothers and teenage girls, all believing they should be the star of the show. They all wanted to be the center of attention atop a Mardi Gras float, tossing beads and coins into a crowd that could truly care less, mostly because they were too drunk to care.

What they really failed to realize was that the floats were the center of attention. The parade was the center of attention. The teenage girls waving from the main float were just there for decoration.

Sad but true because Deanna knew.

With the pageant queen chosen, Deanna was now caught in a personal dilemma that involved work. Her parents had owned their own accounting and tax firm for years. They’d intentionally chosen clients who were their neighbors, people who couldn’t afford the high-end firms that charged them more than they should.

Each person selected was hand-picked by her father. She was really wishing that she’d kept her father’s company after her parents had been killed. For some strange reason, her boss was pushing a new client on her. One that her father had refused to do business with.

So, she did the only thing she knew to do. She spoke to the men at Belle Fleur. When they convinced her to leave her new job and come to work for them, they offered her an escort. One that she’d been thinking of for years.

“Pax! Brax! Oh my gosh, how are you?” she said, hugging the twins.

“We’re great, Deanna. How are you?” said Brax.

“I-I’m good, sort of, I guess,” she laughed. “Geez, you guys look great.” Pax just stared at her, unable to say anything. He just smiled, nodding as his brother elbowed his ribs.

“Well, let’s get your stuff out of your office, okay?” said Brax.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I’m sure you guys have other things to do.”

Brax and Pax followed Deanna into her office and waited outside her boss’s door for her. They could hear her speaking low and soft, then the loud yelling of a male. Opening the door, they both stepped inside.

“Everything okay, Deanna?” asked Pax.

“I-I’m not sure. Bill, my boss here, Bill is pretty angry that I’m leaving, even though he threatened to fire me earlier today. I just want to give my resignation and leave peacefully, but he seems to think he can stop me.”

“It’s a damn shame to lose someone as talented as Deanna,” said Brax, “but from what we hear, you were trying to force her to do something against her nature. She’s got good reason to leave.”

“You won’t get another job in this city,” he said, shaking.

“I already have another job. A great one, and the best part is I’ll be working with great friends.”

“Don’t do this, Deanna. You’ll regret it.” That was all Pax needed to hear. He gripped the man’s shirt, shoving him against the wall.

“Do not threaten this woman again, or you will regret it. An employee has the right to leave if they feel they are being treated unfairly or forced to do something against their moral code. She is leaving. If you ever attempt to blemish her reputation or take action against her, you will regret it. I will make a phone call to every news agency, newspaper, website, and professional tax organization about your appalling behavior.”

Bill swallowed, nodding at the big man in front of him. He looked at Deanna but didn’t say a word.

“Come on,” said Brax. “I’ll help you pack up your desk.”

Pax stood in the doorway of Bill Barnham’s office, watching his every move. He noticed that he sent three text messages in a row, then got three calls back, all of which he declined with a shaky hand.

“Don’t mind me,” smiled Pax. “Go ahead and take your calls.”

“I require privacy,” he said flatly. Pax just nodded, smirking at him.

“I’m going to warn you one time. If there is something going on here and Deanna gets hurt, I will come for you. Even if you were in another state when it happens, I will assume you were a part of it, and I will hunt you down. Clear?”

“I’m ready, Pax,” said Deanna from behind him.

“Me too,” he smiled. “Very, very ready.”

As Pax put Deanna’s bags in the trunk, his brother signed for him to look up at the windows. Standing at his office window on the third floor, Bill Barnham was speaking to someone on the phone, staring at them as they got ready to leave.

Pax and Brax said nothing to Deanna. She was completely distracted, looking down at her lap in the backseat of the SUV. By the time they reached her small house in Tremé, she was almost asleep, exhausted from the emotional day.

“Cute house, Dee,” smirked Pax.

“You know, Paxton, you’re the only guy who ever called me Dee and the only one I ever let call me Dee,” she smiled.

“I know. I wanted you to know it was me when I called your name,” he laughed. “I get confused with this idiot all the time.”

“You guys are totally different,” she said, shaking her head. “Brax has always been quieter, more intense. You’re the guy who’s less serious. Always joking.”

“That’s him,” laughed Brax.

“Wait. I’m not always joking,” frowned Pax. “I’m serious about a lot of things. I just don’t always talk about them.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it, Pax. It’s just who you are. The guy with jokes and jabs, the one who never takes anything seriously. You were voted best sense of humor for senior superlatives. You’re just not serious about things. Other than the Navy, obviously.”

She went into her bedroom to pack her bags, and Brax looked at his brother with a knowing grin. They’d told him for years that he was missing out on things because he saw everything as a joke. Everything was funny to him. Nothing was serious.

“Am I always joking?” he whispered.

“Pax, it’s cool, man. I’m too serious. You’re not serious enough. You’ve been less childlike as you’ve gotten older.”

“I’m ready,” said Deanna, coming out of the bedroom. She had two large rolling bags. “I wasn’t sure how long I’d have to be there.”

“It’s good. Come on,” said Pax.

Other than a small hiccup in her driveway, Deanna was packed and driven back to Belle Fleur. When they arrived, Pax helped her with her bags, taking her to the assigned cottage.

“Thanks for the help,” she said, smiling at him.

“Deanna? I wanted to say I was sorry we lost touch,” he stammered.

“It’s not a big deal, Pax. I’m sure you were busy, and, well, I’m sure you didn’t hurt for female companionship. You were always handsome, Pax. You’re more than just handsome now. Really.”

“Deanna,” he started.

“Let me get settled, Pax. I’m sure I’ll see you later,” she smiled. She rushed inside the cottage, trying to regain her breath and common sense. Paxton Pechkin. Damn.

“Get a hold of yourself,” she whispered to no one.

She wasn’t lying. He’d always been good-looking. Tall, broad, well-built, beautiful face, and he was smart and kind. But now? Now, he looked like he should be on the poster for an all-male nude revue somewhere. Top that with what she was sensing as an overly protective instinct that he was willing to take to the highest levels, and her hormones were racing through her body like a formula one tour.

She would just have to avoid him if at all possible until this mess was done. I mean, there were more than three hundred people on the property. Surely she could avoid one man.

And she had every intention of doing exactly that.

Until she got the call from her carnival queens, who were suddenly in trouble because of her.