I sighed and headed to the bar in search of that scotch.
As the bartender poured my three fingers, I pulled my phone from my jacket pocket and noticed I had a missed call and voicemail from a number I didn’t recognize. Tossing a tip in the jar, I grabbed my drink and headed out into the lobby, away from the noise of the reception. As soon as I heard her voice on the message, I damn near dropped my glass. I looked at the time of the missed call. Before the parade.
A surge of excitement rushed through me, followed closely by confusion. She’d called me before I’d seen her today. I dropped onto a bench near the door. It didn’t add up. It’d been less than an hour between the time she’d left the message and the parade. Something had obviously happened to cause her complete one-eighty. I looked down at my watch. I had to stay for at least another hour, but then I’d track her down and get my answers. I’d been ready to let go of my fascination with her, but she’d smashed the ball back into my court. This wasn’t over yet.
I’d finished the bottle of wine and changed into a pair of threadbare lilac cotton pajama pants to go with my wife beater. The bra had been tossed to the top of the bureau. If I could go the rest of my life without wearing one, I would. But with boobs that topped out just under double D, it wasn’t an option. I envied those B-cup girls some days. My hair was up in a ratty bun, and I was debating whether or not I wanted to open a second bottle. I’d be hung over in the morning, but I didn’t have to work, so why the hell not? I’d toast Simon Duchesne goodbye. Why am I still thinking about him? I gave myself a mental kick. Enough.
My buzzer rang as I reached for the corkscrew. I looked at the clock. It was 11:30 on a Saturday night. Who the hell? It rang again, and I crossed the tiny space to the ancient intercom on my wall.
“Yes?”
“It’s Simon.” As if my very thoughts had conjured him. Damn the juju in this town.
I inhaled sharply, my nipples perking up at his dark, rumbling voice. No, body, the brain has already made this decision. But the reprimand was pointless. I clearly couldn’t trust myself around him. Or his voice.
I pressed the button on the intercom again. “Go away, Simon.”
“I got your message.”
Oh shit. Of course he had. Finishing off the wine had helped me forget my earlier lapse in judgment. And now I supposed I owed him an in-person blow off. After all, I was sending off more mixed signals than a drunken air traffic controller.
“Hold on.” I slipped on my flip-flops and left Huck inside.
In the dim glow of the street lamps I could see him leaning against the gate, bowtie, jacket, and the top four studs of his shirt missing. His sleeves were rolled up, and I could see the anchor and trident on his inner forearm. I was all set to tell him to go the hell home, but that peek of his ink combined with the casually confident way he held himself had the words clogging in my throat. I couldn’t help but think that even though his public persona was hazardous to my very existence, it might be worth flirting with danger to steal a taste of the man beneath it. I stared up at the sky for a beat, seeking divine guidance. Finding none, I looked back to Simon.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. My tone was less than welcoming. If he let me run him off, then I’d be saved from the temptation that was Simon Duchesne.
“You called me.”
“I shouldn’t have.”
“I’m glad you did.” He shifted, as though annoyed by the bars between us. Sorry, Simon, I thought, even without the bars, there will always be impenetrable walls.
A thought struck me. “Are you drunk?”
“No,” Simon replied with a laugh. “Are you?”
“A little.” At least I could be honest about that.
A provocative smile spread over his face, and I caught a flash of dimples. Damn. Come on world, throw me a bone.
“Are you going to ask me in?” He punctuated the question with a raised eyebrow.
“I shouldn’t.” To myself I added, I really, really shouldn’t.
“You don’t look like the kind of girl who doesn’t do things just because she thinks she shouldn’t.”
I looked down at the uneven cobblestones beneath my feet. “Don’t pretend like you know me.”
“I want to.”
“Why?” It was a question I desperately wanted answered. I was still trying to sort out all of the reasons for my attraction to him. Maybe he could articulate whatever this crazy thing was between us, and solve the mystery for me.
He reached through the bars and tucked a flyaway strand of hair behind my ear.
“Honestly, I have no idea. You’re just … there’s something about you.”
Dammit. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, giving myself a moment to think. Ultimately, it was his honesty that decided it. We were equally off balance here. I was probably going to regret this, but … what the hell. I twisted the lock and opened the gate. For some reason, it didn’t feel wrong. I thought of Yve’s advice. One night. Get him out of my system. I never had to see him again. I could steal this night and emerge unscathed.
My heart hammered as my plan formed. I forced myself to walk slowly as I led Simon to the inner courtyard, and he paused to take in the garden oasis. It was magical. A hidden gem in the middle of the Quarter. The brick walls enclosed a huge live oak, draped with thick blankets of Spanish moss and resurrection fern. Fairy lights and solar-powered Chinese lanterns dangled from the branches. The tinkle of the fountains and the koi pond were the only sounds beyond the noise of the city. The blue water of the small splash pool reflected the lights and the stars.