Excerpt from Glory Be by Danielle Arceneaux, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

"Thank you," Glory said as she sat down on the pine chair. "Honestly, you have to train these people before you put them on the floor. On a Sunday, no less."

"I'm working on it. Not a lot of time to work with this one—just got him on a work release program a few days ago."

Her eyes widened. "You and your felons. I swear, Noah Singleton, I will never get how your brain operates. You're one of the few black business owners in all of Lafayette, and you go and hire a jailbird. Makes no sense, if you ask me."

"Ain't no one asking you," he said, wiping her table with a damp cloth.

"I know you have a soft spot for these hard cases, especially after everything with your daughter." She sighed. "But you ought to have more sense than to have some jailbird behind your cash register. You're letting a fox run wild in the henhouse."

"I've had no problems with the man—whose name is Gus, by the way," he said. "And besides, everyone deserves a second chance. Even you."

"Me? I have no idea what you're referring to. I am a proper Catholic woman in good standing at St. Agnes of Lafayette, located at the corner of love and mercy. And the Vatican, for that matter."

His eyes narrowed, and a powerful laugh rose from his belly. "Glory, I done seen you steal my mug," he said, gesturing to her bulging handbag and collecting his breath. "The only thief around here is you. But you know what? Keep it. Because that's how real Christian charity works. And you of all people, judging this man,
with the dirty you bring here every Sunday."

Glory reached inside her purse, pulled out the mug, and pushed it across the table. "Here. Keep your damn ticky tacky." She leaned toward him. "You should be grateful this coffee shop is my office. Most of your Sunday clientele is here for me—not your watery coffee."

Noah slung the dish towel over his shoulder and shook his head. "You're insulting my coffee now?"

"I don't know why you need new mugs, anyway. Ain't nothing wrong with the old ones."

Noah shrugged. "Millennials love branding. Gotta stay relevant." He turned around to greet the Sunday crowd that was now trickling in—shaking hands and fist-bumping with a few kids—before disappearing to the kitchen.

A tall slender man dressed in dark dress pants and a long-sleeved polo, despite the late-summer humidity, strolled toward Glory's table. "You're that Broussard lady, right? The bookie that everyone at the casino recommended?" Crinkles from his eyes fanned over his face, which was leathered by the sun. His hair was carefully styled like one of those gay men on that makeover show she watched, but even Glory knew you couldn't make those kinds of assumptions anymore.

"I might know someone who can help you out, but I don't reckon knowing your name, son. I need to do a proper vetting with anyone I do business with."

"I'm a Benoit."

"There's about a million Benoits in Louisiana. You're going to have to be a little more specific."

"Oh, come on." He laughed. "Don't act like you don't know my family."

She was coy but knew full well which family he meant. There was the Benoit Medical Center of Lafayette and Benoit Stadium, not to mention Benoit Construction & Chemical Company. Everyone in town knew the Benoits whether they wanted to or not.

"My name is Keller Benoit," he said. He sat down across from Glory and extended his hand. "What's the money line on Tulane?"

It's not like Glory wanted to shake the man's hand, but what else was she supposed to do? Despite his questionable vibes, she'd had better home training than that. "I might know someone who will take that bet for you," said Glory, in a voice dripping with honey and sarcasm. "Minus 120."

He reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, and started flipping through bills. "I'll take a dime." He plunked down ten crisp hundred-dollar bills on the table.

Excerpted from Glory Be by Danielle Arceneaux. Copyright © 2023 by Danielle Arceneaux. Excerpted by permission of Pegasus Books. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.