“A hurricane,” he replies, his familiar brown eyes shining. “How are you, Cal? I was sure sorry to hear about your daddy.”
“Thanks.” I settle in, building Pete’s drink, thankful to have a friendly person to talk to. “I’m doing okay. Renovating this place has helped a lot.”
“It’s fantastic,” Pete says and sits on a stool, as if he’s going to stay and chat. “And so is this drink.”
“Just one of my many talents.”
“I remember,” he says, his eyes wandering up and down my body. I’ve changed a lot since we were sixteen and I lost my virginity to him in his childhood bedroom. Of course, so has he. Pete and I dated until we graduated from high school, and then it just felt right to break it off and go our separate ways.
Long gone is the tall and lanky boy that charmed me back then. He’s filled out, not super muscular, but not big. He’s a man now. Unfortunately, there isn’t the chemistry here that I feel every time Declan enters a room, but it’s great to see Pete.
“What are you up to these days?” I ask.
“Real estate,” he says and pulls a business card out of his back pocket, passing it to me.
“Really? Hold on.” I hold my finger up, signaling for him to wait, just as Declan takes the stage and the crowd cheers. I fill several more orders, and when I’m satisfied that all the customers are taken care of, I turn back to Pete. “I may be in the market for a real estate agent.”
Pete’s eyes narrow just a bit and he leans forward. “Is that so?”
“It is. I like to flip houses, I’m pretty good at it, and I’ve been thinking about finding something down here to sink my teeth into.”
“I’m pretty sure I can help you out with that. You have my number. Just call any time.”
“I will.” I smile and tuck his card in my bra. I don’t have any pockets in this dress. “Thanks.”
Pete takes a sip of his drink. “I don’t see a ring on your finger.”
I laugh and shake my head. “No. You don’t.”
“Good to know.” He winks and then takes his drink and stands. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Sounds good.” I watch Pete walk into the crowd and sigh.
“What are you doing?” Adam asks as he comes to stand next to me, arms crossed.
“This is called working,” I reply, enunciating each word in case he’s slow.
“No, it’s called flirting with men.”
“Oh please. Like you don’t spend every evening you work flirting with the young girls you pour drinks for.” I roll my eyes and wipe the bar with a wet rag.
“I’m not you,” he says simply and then nods toward the stage. “And I don’t put on a show for the person I was with just days ago. And the thing is, that’s not you either.” He gives me a pointed look and walks away.
I glance up at the stage with a frown, surprised to find Declan’s eyes on me, but he blinks and looks away without missing a beat of the bluesy song he’s playing.
I was not trying to make Declan jealous. I was talking to an old friend. I didn’t do anything wrong. Declan was flirting with a table of women—touching them!—not thirty minutes ago!
Not to mention, he’s not my boyfriend.
But there’s a small part of me that feels just a tiny bit bad. So, I do what I do best. I raise my chin, fasten a smirk on my face and do my damn job.
***
It was a long night. The Odyssey was busier than ever, and Declan even played for an extra fifteen minutes when the crowd yelled for more. He looks so comfortable on a stage, an instrument in his hand. He makes the singing sound easy, when I know that it’s anything but.
He’s at home there.
The stage is empty now, along with the rest of the place, and I sigh, enjoying the quiet and the solitude. How an introvert fell into a career that involves so many people, I have no idea.
But I love it. Almost as much as the quiet. I glance around, then flip off the lights and slip through the front door and lock it behind me.
“You’re later tonight.”
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” I screech, jumping about five feet in the air, then clutch at my chest and scowl at Declan. “Stop doing that!”
“I’m sorry,” he says with a lazy grin. He looks tired. Actually, as I take a closer look, he looks worse than tired.
Do not ask him what’s wrong.
“Why are you here?” I ask and walk briskly down the sidewalk toward my car.
“Walking you,” he replies simply and easily keeps up with my stride. His legs are so long, it’s nothing more than a leisurely walk for him.
“Why?”
“Are we going to do this again?” he asks with a sigh. “Because it’s dangerous here at night. Why isn’t Adam walking you out? You guys could just ride together.”
“That would cramp Adam’s sex life up,” I reply with a laugh. “I don’t want any part of that.”
“Where are you parked?”
“About four blocks up,” I admit and bite my lip. I will never admit this out loud, but I’m glad he’s here to walk me. He’s right, it is dangerous in the Quarter at night.
“Why in the hell did you park so far away?” He reaches down to take my hand, but I pull it away.
“It’s all I could find.”
“Isn’t there parking in the alley?”