Billie sprawled on my bed as I slipped my feet into red kitten heels. “So, what about Ash and the witch stuff?”
“I’m not a witch. Please don’t call it that.” I made a face at the carpet, bent over from the waist to adjust the buckles of my shoes. “What about Ash? I don’t get the question.”
There was a twang of bedsprings as Billie adjusted her position. “You get the question. I thought you liked her. Like, liked her.”
Frustration welled up in the back of my throat. I swallowed it down as I reached for the Chanel Number 5 sitting next to the television. The bottle was half empty, a Christmas gift from my parents I had begged for, Marilyn Monroe’s favorite perfume. The sprayer was a little clogged, but I still managed two squirts, one on my neck and one on my wrist. “You of all people should know how impossible it is for me to get involved with any one person, especially after last night.” There really was no reason to keep going over this.
“And Henry is different, how?”
“This is just dinner. It isn’t any big thing.”
“If you say so. Sounds to me like Henry is the safe option because you’re not super attracted to him.”
I huffed a sigh. “No one likes a know-it-all.”
The walls rattled as an angry fist pounded on Billie’s room next door. The pounding was followed by a man yelling, “Let’s go, babe!”
I spun to stare at Billie, my mouth open in surprise.
She rolled her eyes as she bounced off my bed. “Guess who that is?” She tried to laugh, but the sound died away before it could fully form.
I reached out and grabbed her arm as she slunk by. “You don’t have to go with him. Why don’t you come have dinner with Henry and me instead?”
Billie patted my hand like she was the mother figure, and I was the child. “He’s a good guy, just a little on the intense side like I said. Don’t worry. You two have fun, and don’t do anything I would.” Billie winked one of her big, beautiful, dark brown eyes. She wore tiny little turquoise biker shorts with a white tube top, which I hated. She looked so much more like herself in a cute baby doll dress.
My hand lingered on her arm. I was reluctant to let her go. “Check in with me when you get home, okay?” Billie threatened another eye roll, so I quickly added, “I want to tell you about my night.”
“Only if you’re up and I see a light on. If you want to lock lips with Henry tonight, wear that devastating red lipstick, and be careful. I’m worried about you alone out there. Try not to blast him into the side of a car.”
“So funny,” I mumbled, not a little afraid that I may do just that.
Billie pulled open the door, revealing her friend waiting on the other side, his hand raised to bang again on her door. “Here I am. I was helping my neighbor get ready for her date.” She quickly pulled my door closed behind her.
I wondered if Dave would recognize me from the movie night, but he didn’t so much as glance my way. And she was worried about me. In that moment, I wasn’t sure who was in greater danger.
I wanted to peek out the window and make sure everything was okay, but I knew Billie wouldn’t like that. I stayed put, straining my ears to listen. There was a murmur, but it didn’t seem angry. Billie had placated Mr. Tough Guy. Soon, I heard the loud revving of an engine and the peeling of tires. That guy really liked to make his presence known.
I swallowed down the bile creeping up the back of my throat. The thought of Billie doing anything with that creep really pissed me off. I wasn’t mad at her—I was mad at her life, at her belief that she had to put up with it. I wasn’t sure I could ever see sex work, as she called it, in the same way Billie did. She saw it as legitimate work, something she did willingly to help her reach her goals. If that was the case, couldn’t she do it with better guys and not that jerk?
Tires crunched loose gravel outside as headlights swept into the room. Henry was here, the rumble of his older engine louder than any other car at the Fleur. I tried letting go of my thoughts of Billie and pump myself up for my date. I was excited. Really, I was. I was making friends here and feeling more at home, more comfortable. New Orleans had ceased to feel like an alien planet and was starting to feel like an actual place where people lived and breathed. Going out with Henry was the right decision. He was cute, and fun, and had a killer smile.
I swiped on my red lipstick, as advised by Billie, and went out to meet Henry.
I was locking the door of my room when from behind me I heard his car door open. “It’s probably a bad idea if I whistle, isn’t it?”
I giggled, turning in a full circle to show off my outfit. “Maybe just nod approvingly.”
“I’m definitely nodding,” he said, standing behind his car door, leaning against it like he wanted to jump it and jump me. His gaze swept over my body from head to toe. I hadn’t wanted to go too hard with the first date look, so I kept it cute and simple with a black pencil skirt, black camisole, and a red short sleeve cardigan. I felt like a non-bondage Bettie Page.
Henry came around the car to open the door for me. He looked nice and like he had really tried with shiny black shoes, dark jeans, and a white collared shirt.
I took a step back as he walked around toward me. I didn’t mean to. It was almost a reflex. He noticed, and my stomach dipped, but he smiled and continued to the door which he pulled open, the hinges groaning in slight protest. I don’t know why I stepped away. Feelings of foolishness bloomed over my chest in the form of familiar red patches—the bane of my existence.
Get it together, Miranda. It’s a date, no more, no less.
The evening was not as hot as the evenings of the recent past, so at least there was that to be grateful for. I would not be too much of a sticky mess by the end of the night.
My heels ground loose gravel. “Thanks,” I said as I slipped into the passenger seat.
Henry shut the door, came back around, and plopped back into his spot.
The inside of Henry’s truck smelled like stale chips and old cigarette butts. This was not something I’d noticed earlier. I tried not to act prissy about it, but cigarettes were my least favorite thing. Unlike Billie’s car, which smelled good but was a mess, this one was relatively clean but smelled awful.
“Is that Ash knocking on your door? What does she want?”
My stomach dropped to my toes. I was so busy judging the odor of poor Henry’s car that I wasn’t paying attention to anything else. My gaze lifted from the floorboards to the windshield. There she was, clear as day. Her back was to Henry and me as we sat in the car.
Ash looked great from behind in jeans that managed to both hug her body and hang slightly from her hips. She wore a black t-shirt, a silver chain dangling from the front right pocket to her back pocket, where a bulge, probably a wallet, was tucked inside.
Something took off in my belly. Something that can only be described as butterflies. I shifted on the seat. “How do you know Ash?”
“We went to school together. You must have met her at the club?” Henry was looking at me. I could see him with my peripheral vision, but my gaze was glued to Ash.
“Yeah.” It was all I could say.
“Do you want to see what she wants?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, suddenly a little dry. “I probably should do that. Yeah,” I said, still not moving.
What Henry was thinking I couldn’t begin to imagine.
Ash knocked for the second time on the door.
Part of me wanted her to just take off and leave. The other part of me longed to jump out of the car and talk to her. I knew it would seem weird if I did nothing. The situation would seem far more normal if I hopped out like we were friends to see what she wanted.
My fingers grasped the cold metal of the door handle. Henry had yet to start the car, and it was muggy, moisture beading around my hairline and threatening to drip down the side of my face. I swiped at the sweat with my left hand while I opened the door with the other. I shut the door, and Henry started the car at the same time, probably so he could keep cool while he waited for me.
The combined noise caused Ash to turn around. She smiled. The corners of her mouth flicked up, but her mouth remained closed. She tucked a stray piece of hair behind an ear in a gesture that was maddening. All I could think about was how cool she was. Cool and gorgeous, those penetrating eyes intense on mine.
“Hey, Miranda.” She now smiled with an open mouth, displaying perfect teeth. “Wow, you look incredible.” Ash said incredible with her whole body. As she said the word her gaze traveled down the length of me, her smile widened, and her body swayed. There was none of the squeamishness I felt when being appraised by Henry.
“Hey.” I moved back up onto the sidewalk. From several feet away, I could smell a light dusting of men’s cologne. A familiar twinge happened between my legs. A twinge I’d only ever felt making out with my high school boyfriend in the backseat of his car.
Ash shifted her focus to the truck I’d just exited. She dipped her head down to see Henry in the front seat. He waved, nodding his head. Ash waved back. “You and Henry, huh?”
I didn’t really know what to say. I didn’t know Ash. We had only met once, and although she had clearly made an impression on me, I had no idea what her intentions were.
I had left my handbag in the car, and with nothing for my hands to do and no pockets to stick them in, I felt awkward. The only thing there was to do was to leave them hanging limply by my side. “Yeah, we’re going to dinner. Did you need anything from me? Something for the club?” It came to me in a flash that she probably wasn’t here for me personally. She was here to deliver something from the club, paperwork or something like that. Delivery seemed the only viable option.
Ash looked back at me, her eyebrows raised. “No, Miranda. I thought, maybe…” She scrunched up her mouth and darted a look back at Henry. “I guess I thought wrong. Hey, no big. You guys have a great time tonight.” She waved again at Henry, still sitting and watching from inside the car, then turned without acknowledging me again.
“Bye,” I said, weakly. There was a weird pull in my chest. I was reluctant to get back into the car, yet what else could I do? Run after a girl who looked like trouble? I squeezed my eyes shut and gave my head a good shake.
I got back in the car, slamming the door with more force than I should have. “Sorry, it stuck a little.”
Henry huffed, flipping the car into reverse but not taking his foot off the brake. “We all good?” There was an edge to his voice that seemed out of character.
I tossed my hair over my shoulder. I was determined to make the most out of this night. “All good. She was just telling me that I forgot to sign some papers at the club.” I raised my hands to the air vents, letting the cool air slide over my fingers. I tried not to watch Ash walk down the sidewalk.
Henry laughed, his laughter more sarcastic than joyous. “Right. If I know Ash, and I’ve known her since I was six, I now have a rival for your affections. I’m sure she had you in her sights the moment you walked into Ruby’s.” Henry backed the car out of the lot.
I looked over at him as he pulled us out onto the main road. “Well, that’s not why she was here, so there you go.”
Henry gazed at me sideways, his eyes a little narrowed. “I’m not worried, Miranda. I plan on giving you a night you’ll never forget, much better than Ash could do.”
I didn’t like the way he said that. Was he implying that Ash was poor? That Ash was beneath him? Whatever he meant—it was unsavory.
****
Henry was okay, but the night had not been unforgettable. Mostly, it was just fun to go out and see a different side of New Orleans.
After his reaction to Ash, he seemed to relax. Henry took me to what he said was one of the most famous, established restaurants in the French Quarter. I would have to take his word for it. Though the building itself was cool—I loved the art deco décor and the vintage photos on the walls—the food left a lot to be desired.
My salad appetizer was so drenched in dressing that the lettuce became a sort of gelatinous slop that I could only poke at. After two bites, so vinegary I wanted to immediately spit it out, I decided I was not putting any more of it in my mouth. I smiled and tried to act like I was enjoying myself. I wanted to, I really did, but all my thoughts kept wandering to Ash. I kept seeing her standing in front of me, her genuine happiness at seeing me melting into disappointment after learning I was off on a date.
“Miranda?” Henry tapped the back of my hand lightly with his fingertip.
I moved my hand under the table to grab at my napkin and dab my lips. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”
“I was asking if you were enjoying your steak?”
I realized Henry was spending a lot of money on this meal. Money he probably didn’t have to waste. It made me feel bad to think of how sweet he was, and all I could do was think about someone else. The steak was terrible—tough, hard to cut, and even harder to chew. “It’s great. Love it.”
“Cool. I thought we could walk down to the Café du Monde after this and have beignets and coffee for dessert. Have you been there yet?”
Beignets and coffee sounded a million times better than the food I was currently forcing down. “No, but Billie was telling me all about it. I’d love to check it out. She also said not to wear black, because of the powdered sugar, so it’s a good thing I don’t always do what she says.”
Henry laughed, his face relaxing a bit at my joke. The check finally came. I couldn’t wait to get out and walk off the lackluster meal. My stomach was gurgling a bit from dinner—I hoped I wouldn’t lose it on the sidewalk. I was terrified Henry would try to hold my hand as we walked, so I clutched my handbag with both hands as we strolled through the Quarter. At least I’d been so busy that all thoughts of magic had been pushed to the back of my mind. It was wonderful what a little denial and suppression could do.
“The food wasn’t as good as I remembered. Sorry if your dinner sucked. Mine did.” Henry made a face, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “I haven’t been there since I was a kid.”
“It wasn’t all bad. The company was nice, and I loved the ambiance. Thank you for taking me.”
We were heading down a quiet street. Henry stopped next to an old gate. From what I could see, the gate led to an inner courtyard shrouded in Spanish moss and shadows. I wasn’t sure why we were stopping. He leaned his back against the wrought iron and shoved his hands into his pockets. “You seem very stiff around me, Miranda. Is it me or are you not into this date thing? You won’t hurt my feelings—much. Just say the word and I’ll take you back to the Fleur.”
I had two clear choices. I could continue the awkwardness and insist I was fine, walk to the café and drink some coffee, or I could fess up to not feeling this and go home. The problem was if I did either of those things, I would be admitting to myself that something was going on with Ash, and there wasn’t. I had to prove this to myself. I wasn’t sure why it was so important, but it was. Henry was cute and I had been attracted to him, initially. The only thing to do was forge ahead with choice three. I would jump into this with both feet, and soon my natural feelings would take over. So, I kissed him.
He was already in the perfect position. All I had to do was step forward and lean in.
To say he was taken aback was an understatement. Henry flinched his head, smacking his skull on the iron of the gate behind him. His eyes went wide, and he reached up to grip my upper arms. I wasn’t sure if he was pushing me away or steadying himself.
“I’m so sorry. Oh my god,” I sputtered. I tried to move back, but Henry still held my arms.
Henry smiled, his smile turning into a laugh, and released me to rub at his head. “Holy shit. Don’t apologize. I just wasn’t ready. I thought you were about to bail on the date, and then you try to kiss me?” He pursed his lips together, his eyes shining and gazing into mine. “If you want to try that again, I’m ready now.”
He was adorable, even if the date had gotten off to a bad start. There was no denying that. The one thing I was sure of at that moment was that I couldn’t hurt him. Even if I didn’t like someone else, which I didn’t, I wasn’t going to be in New Orleans long. This was a brief stop on the train to who knew where. Something told me Henry was not a brief kind of guy. “Actually, Henry, I think your first reaction was the correct one. I wasn’t thinking, and I’m not going to be here long enough to start anything. You know? I’m really sorry, this just won’t work.”
Henry released my arms, righting himself on the sidewalk.
I stepped back, not sure what to do next.
“Won’t work because you won’t be here long, or won’t work because you have the hots for Ash? Or maybe you just want to play the field and break some hearts?” Henry’s face was stone cold, his eyes, even colder.
I blinked several times to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. Before I could respond, Henry’s face changed, again, his countenance softening. “Boy, was that stupid. I didn’t mean any of that, Miranda, really.”
“I could get a cab if you want.” I looked to the side, unable to meet his gaze.
“Why would I want you to do that?” Henry reached up and squeezed my elbow. “It’s okay, Miranda. Honestly, I’m super sorry. I get it, and in no way do I hold your feelings against you.” He chuckled in a weird way. “You probably think I’m a psycho, now. It’s just that I had my heart eviscerated last year, and I guess I’m sensitive. Friends?”
I half-smiled at him, the best smile I could offer under the circumstances. “Sure,” I said, slowly. If Henry was damaged, I could forgive the outburst. I had problems of my own. “Friends.”
“Can friends still get beignets?”
I laughed. “Friends still get beignets.”
Henry had let me off the hook but not without causing a fuss. After what I’d been through in the last few days, I was now surer than ever that love would have to wait.