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SHEER EXHAUSTION FROM today’s work took a toll on Bridgette’s body. After the day she had had, Bridgette needed a long, hot bath. She poured her favorite scented bubble bath under the steaming water, and lit the candles she had placed around the bathroom. The scent filled the room and she slipped into the water. She took a deep breath and exhaled. She soaked in the tub and let the suds soothe her aching muscles.
NO SOONER THAN HER head hit the pillow, she drifted off into a deep slumber. Music began to play somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind. It was a slow jazz number, haunting actually. Laughter mixed in with the music as the scent of the magnolia trees drifted in from the open French doors.
She saw herself as a small child peering through spindles on the staircase. The parlor and courtyard were full of men and women dressed exquisitely, and their faces were hidden by masks. It was one of her mom’s annual masquerade balls.
Suddenly, a strange sound woke Bridgette up in the middle of her dream. She bolted upright, trying to place what she heard. For a moment, it sounded like someone screaming, but she shook her head at the thought. The ghosts that wandered around the old plantation home never made noises like that. She was just letting her imagination run wild.
She prayed that when the bed and breakfast inn opened in a few short weeks, the ghosts would not rouse any of her guests from their sleep. That would not be good for business.
Tossing back the covers, she left the comfort of her bed. Parting the heavy curtains, she peered into the night. Outside, the night was bathed in an unearthly glow of shimmering moonlight. Fog rolled off the bayou; the heavy mist lingered low to the ground, creating an eerie appearance before her. Then the figure of a woman appeared. Bridgette could not place the face; she did not look familiar at all. The woman standing in the courtyard was tall with flowing blonde-auburn hair, wearing what appeared to be a long sundress of some sort. She looked up to the window and then disappeared as quickly as she appeared.
Suddenly, a chill went through her. She could not explain it, but a bone cold sensation ran through her even though the night air was humid.
Knowing she would not be able to go back to sleep, she went to the kitchen to brew herself a cup of coffee. She wondered why the ghosts had been so restless lately. In all her years of living here, they all seemed to commingle in peace.
She had a few hours before she had to leave for her meeting, so she planned to explore the attic for more treasures. Even as a child, her parents kept the history of Marquette Plantation alive. Over the years, certain pieces were retired to the attic, and she was anxious to find a few more pictures that depicted life during the Civil War.
Growing up, her mom never liked her going up there. She believed the items had been placed up there for a reason, and she did not want to disturb the harmony of the house.
As Bridgette left the attic, she was pleased with her finds. The attic had been a treasure trove of goodies. She also managed to find yet another wonderful old diary.
LATER THAT MORNING, Bridgette drove into town to grab a bite to eat and attend a meeting with her parents’ attorney. She was anxious to return home and read the diary. From the brief inserts she read while in the attic, it appeared to be very fascinating. Genevieve Marquette had written those particular inserts before her unfortunate death. It felt to Bridgette as if she was reliving those days through her words.
After parking her car, Bridgette walked to the restaurant. Suddenly, a feeling of loneliness overcame her. She felt lonelier than she ever felt before in her life. It never bothered her before, but for some unknown reason eating alone this afternoon weighed heavy on her mind. Perhaps she needed to find someone to share her life with after all.
To add to her misery, inside the restaurant the hostess asked her, “Table for one?”
Bridgette ruefully nodded her head, “It’s just me for lunch.”
The hostess grabbed a menu and showed Bridgette to her table. As Bridgette followed the young woman, she noticed how she made sure her hips swayed, wanting to catch the men’s attention. Perhaps if Bridgette dressed differently, she would attract a man. Lord knew what she was doing was not working. She could not remember the last time she had captured a man’s attention.
She showed Bridgette to her table and handed her a menu. “Your waitress this afternoon will be Zoe. She will be with you shortly.”
Bridgette thanked her and perused the menu while she waited for the waitress. The lunch special, crab cakes with a salad, sounded perfect to her.
Glancing around the dining room, she noticed how busy they were.
A perky young girl in black dress pants and a white cotton button-down shirt made her way to the table with a cheery smile, “Good afternoon. My name is Zoe, and I will be your server today. Can I get you something to drink? Perhaps something from the bar?”
Bridgette shook her head, “Just water, please. I prefer bottled if you have it.”
“Yes, ma’am, will do. Can I start you out with an appetizer as well?”
“Actually, I will just have the lunch special.”
“The crab cakes here are delicious. I’ll be right back with your water.”
The waitress returned with her water as well as a basket of bread. She was hungrier than she realized, and the aroma was too tempting to ignore. She took a piece of the hot bread and slathered it with butter. It was a good thing she stuck with crab cakes and a salad, the bread was delicious.
The waitress arrived with her lunch before she could help herself to a second piece of bread. As she cut into one of her crab cakes, a shadow fell across the table. “Good afternoon Ms. Marquette. I saw you sitting here and thought I would drop by to say hello.”
He held his hand out and, for a moment, she stared up at him. Breaking her gaze away from him, she shook his hand. An electrical charge danced up her arm from the simple contact. His long fingers reminded her of an artist’s hand.
Bridgette looked up to see Marcus DuPont looking down at her. His mesmerizing eyes were framed by dark eyelashes that intensified the rich brown of his eyes. She took in a deep breath and caught a whiff of his cologne. It fit him, spicy with a hint of musk. She licked her lips, wondering if he tasted as good as he smelled.
A friction of awareness tingled along her spine. Damn, the man was good-looking. He had an astonishingly sexy smile. She waved her hand for him to take a seat, “Mr. DuPont, would you care to sit for a moment?”
A lethal grin flashed across his face, showing a hint of a dimple on his left cheek. His smile could melt even the coldest of hearts. “I am meeting clients for lunch, but I wanted to offer my condolences. I would appreciate you keeping me in mind if the plantation turns out to be more than you can handle.”
“I appreciate the offer Mr. DuPont, but the plantation has been in my family for generations. It is in my blood. I don’t have it in my heart to sell it. Not now, not ever.”
Marcus shook her hand before leaving, “The offer stands if you ever do feel like selling.”
Bridgette had to give it to the man, he was tenacious. She wondered if he had been this persistent with her parents, or did he just not have faith that she could maintain the property? He was not the only one who did not believe she could keep Marquette Plantation Bed & Breakfast going. She would prove all the non-believers wrong.
She looked at her watch and realized she must hurry if she was going to meet with her parents’ attorney in time. The meeting was simply a formality because, thankfully, her parents put everything in writing a long time ago.
AFTER THE SOLEMN MEETING with the attorney, Bridgette stopped by the local Chamber of Commerce to pick up a few brochures to display for her guests to peruse. Rexma was a historic area, and there were various activities the guests could enjoy. Bridgette believed in helping the local businesses out as much as possible. There were a few swamp tours, various restaurants, and antique stores. She noticed that some of the brochures were very colorful and eye-catching. She needed to look into having a few brochures printed and put on display here as well. There were only a few hotels and a handful of B&B’s in the area.
As she drove back home, Bridgette noticed that Mother Nature was showing her wrath this afternoon. A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, then the earth trembled as the thunder rumbled. Bridgette had hoped to make it inside before the sky opened up, but she was not that lucky. In the short distance from her car to the house, she was drenched and shivering from the rain. A torrential downpour was released from the overly pregnant sky above and cannons of thunder bellowed.
The smell of lemon furniture polish greeted her as she stepped into the house; Delores must be busy cleaning this morning. Bridgette’s heels echoed through the house as she made her way inside.
Delores walked out of the dining room, “Mon dieu, you look like a drowned rat, cher.”
Bridgette laughed, “The sky opened up before I made it inside.”
“You had a visitor while you were gone.”
“Please don’t tell me someone else wished to offer their condolences and bring by some food. As much as I appreciate the thought, all this food is going to waste.”
Delores shook her head, “Mais non. It was Jake Lemoine. He wanted to pass his condolences and drop a hint that he was still interested in buying this place. That man pestered your daddy for years to sell to him.”
“That name doesn’t sound familiar to me.”
“Mais, he is buying up all the land around here. I think he is a business developer of some kind. Your daddy did not want to sell to him. The man swore that he was interested in the house, but your daddy feared he would tear it down and build a subdivision or something else this town did not need.”
Bridgette shook her head, “Non, Daddy wouldn’t sell this land to someone like him no matter how tight money was or how good the offer would be.”
Once Bridgette had changed clothes and dried off, she went into the kitchen to put away the groceries. From the kitchen window, she watched the torrential downpour.
As Bridgette watched the rainfall, she remembered how much her mom despised thunderstorms. Her dad would stand outside and watch the sky during the storm. Her mom would yell at him to come inside, but he always ignored her requests.
WHILE BRIDGETTE WAS online working, her chat feature buzzed. It was Haley. "I hope I am not bothering you, but I needed someone to talk to. It has been such a bad day. Rick was in an awful mood, and he was just taking it out on everyone."
Bridgette responded, "I am so sorry girl. I don't miss those days."
"There are days when I wish I had your witty comebacks."
"Trust me, you don't want to be like me. My mouth can get me in trouble at times. Sometimes, when someone provokes you, it is better to smile and ignore it instead of hitting them with a sarcastic comment."
"I don't know, sometimes I think it would be better to have a comeback. I hate getting tongue-tied when provoked. My mind goes blank. And afterward, I can't take my mind off of what happened. All I think about is what I should've said or how I handled the matter."
"No, you are better off being yourself. Besides, you will regret saying a sarcastic comment - especially if that person happens to be Rick. Trust me, I know from experience."
"Perhaps you are right. I am so glad we chatted tonight. Don't stay up too late working."
"Hopefully tomorrow goes better for you. Mwah. Love you to pieces."