by Lea Coll
“No. I had some.” I didn’t want to be around him any longer than I needed to. “Unless you did?”
He stared at me for a few seconds then said, “No.” He touched my elbow. “I can introduce you to Omar and you can ask any questions you have.”
We started walking along the sidewalk and Gabe pointed at a few storefronts that had Coming soon signs in the windows. “There are several businesses opening up soon. There’s a bookstore, a spice shop around the corner, a Voodoo shop, and a knick-knack store.”
Increased crime was an issue for new and struggling businesses. I slipped easily into work mode, pulling out a legal pad and pen.
“We have issues with crime, which could deter customers from coming here.” He pointed to the camera mounted above the door of the Omar’s. “We also have cameras that have helped some.”
“What crime are you seeing here?” Gabe stopped outside of Omar’s General Store.
“The usual. Breaking into cars searching for whatever spare change or anything they can find. We don’t see the pickpocketing that the French Quarter has but it’s still an issue. Omar can tell you more about the convenience store issues.” He gestured for me to precede him into the store.
There were a few people waiting in line so we stood off to the side waiting for the man I assumed to be Omar to have a minute to speak to us. He was a Hispanic man in his forties with black hair. He wore a Polo shirt and khakis. The store was narrow with a few long aisles of groceries and other necessities. When the stored cleared, the man turned to Gabe. “Hey, bar-man. What are you doing here?”
“Wanted to introduce you to Taylor Leeds. She’s an Assistant U.S. Attorney and she wants to help the neighborhood.”
“Nice to meet you,” Omar said.
“You too.” I shook his outstretched hand. “I wanted to check in to see what we can do for you, your business, the neighborhood.”
Omar shook his head. “Well, I’m not sure what you can do.”
“Let’s start with what crime you experience in your store,” I prompted.
“Shoplifting is my main issue. They don’t hide, they just snatch, grab, and run before I have a chance to call the cops.”
“Do you call the cops?” I asked.
“Honestly?” Omar asked, his eyes sweeping the store for any customers.
At my nod, he continued, “No. What would be the point? These guys are long gone before police show up. An officer might write a report that never gets investigated. They don’t care about shoplifters.”
“No, but shoplifting leads to other bigger crimes that they would care about.” Maybe I could do something about that. My office could speak to the local cops and emphasize the need to reduce theft in order for businesses to thrive in neighborhoods like this.
Omar’s eyes widened. “When they come out they act like I’m wasting their time.”
My lips pursed. I didn’t like the sound of that. “I’ll talk to them about your concerns. Is there anything else you see as an issue?”
“Homeless hanging out in the store and on the corner. They scare away the paying customers.”
I could look into the local shelters. Make sure there is one and that the hours are reasonable. I didn’t know what I could do about it if they weren’t, but I’d talk to Dean. “I’ll look into those issues. Is there anything else?”
“No.” He leaned back on the counter, crossing his legs in front of him.
I smiled. “Well, if you think of anything else, please let me know.” I pulled out my new business cards and handed him one.
“Thanks. I don’t think anyone’s ever come in here and asked what I want or need.” Skepticism was heavy in his voice.
“That’s about to change, Omar. Isaac came to us and we’d like to solve these issues you’re having. We’d like to see the neighborhood blossom, crime drop, and more businesses open up.”
“That’s what we all want,” Gabe said.
I shook Omar’s hand again, told him it was nice to meet him, and waited for Gabe to join me on the sidewalk.
“That was interesting.” Gabe’s eyes were on the sidewalk in front of him.
“How so?” I asked cocking my head to the side to consider him.
“I didn’t think there was anything you could or would do. Isaac knows your boss and he’s been adamant his office deals with stuff like this, but I had my doubts.”
“The D.O.J. enacted Project Safe Neighborhood, which includes all levels of law enforcement working with a community to reduce crime. It works when business owners and citizens feel comfortable approaching police when there’s a problem. It’s like the situation with Omar—if police officers are indifferent to reports of crime, people stop making reports, which increases crime in the area.”
Gabe looked at me with respect in his eyes.
“It’s the reason I wanted this job. The particular department I work in is not my dream job but this aspect of it intrigued me. I love the idea of all branches of law enforcement working in a community to make a difference. So much of what I do is after the fact. I put people away after they commit a crime, not before. This is a way to deter crime.”
“I can tell you’re passionate about it.”
“I am.” I wondered if he thought back to the day we met and knew he’d been wrong about me.
“You’re—” He paused as if searching for the right words.
“Different than you thought?” Maybe he had a negative view of police and law enforcement, which was exactly what Project Safe Neighborhood sought to change.
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “There’s a new spice shop the next street over.”
“Let’s go.” I wanted to make as much progress as I could before Gabe had to get back to work. The spice shop owner was busy and didn’t have any issues to report yet, so I left him my card.
Instead of turning left out of the spice shop to return to Isaac’s, Gabe turned right.
At my questioning look, Gabe said, “This neighborhood is considered Lakeview. We were hit hard by Katrina, but a lot of the area has been rebuilt. I wanted to show you Harrison Avenue which is probably the best-known street in this area of town.”
“I’m somewhat familiar with it because the streetcar goes through that neighborhood but I’d love to see more of it.” Was Gabe intentionally extending our time together? Was this like our visit to the French Quarter?
“You don’t need to get back to work?”
“My boss wants me to get to know the area. I don’t have any trials scheduled yet, so my workload isn’t unmanageable.” I remembered Dean mentioning Isaac’s proximity to Harrison Avenue and how it was important to the neighborhood. He hoped the tourist area would continue to extend beyond Harrison Avenue, allowing for more businesses to open and be successful.
We walked about two blocks before the crowds became heavier until we reached Harrison Avenue, passing Swoon Boutique, Carpe Diem Boutique Salon, Another Broken Egg Café, the Creole Creamery, and the Velvet Cactus. “Business names are unique.” They were quirky, which matched the style of the buildings—Another Broken Egg Café was housed in a large Victorian-style home, while Swoon Boutique was in a corner building, all brick, with a fancy hanging wooden sign.
“It’s a trendy area to shop and everything reflects that. Isaac thinks we’re close enough to this area to capitalize. He wants to draw tourists away from here to our street.”
“This is a cute trendy street. Your street isn’t—”
“Can you think of any way to draw people off this main street?”
“I don’t have any experience in this, but the shops are cute and inviting. It makes me want to go in and explore.” The mood was definitely casual and carefree with people out enjoying the weather and walking along the waterfront.
Gabe carefully considered my words.
“Maybe you could freshen up Isaac’slook? There’s also that open lot on the corner opposite Omar’s. Maybe you could hold festivals or community events? Something we coul
d advertise to draw people in, and with some improvements to the storefronts they’d want to come back? You already have new businesses moving in,” I said.
“That’s a great idea.”
I smiled, feeling excitement radiating from Gabe’s body.
“Do you want to keep walking, or do you have time for lunch?”
“Lunch sounds good.” The one thing I adored about New Orleans so far was the food. It reminded me a little of home with its seafood offerings, even if it was a lot spicier than I was used to.
We’d stopped in front of the Velvet Cactus, a Mexican Restaurant with a large outdoor seating area lined with small trees decorated in tiny white lights. I was about to suggest it but Gabe grabbed my hand and led me farther down the street.
“I guess you have a restaurant in mind?”
He smiled a boyish smile that took my breath away.
“I love seeing the city through your eyes.”
“Good, because you’re about to see one of my favorite parts of the city.” He led me down a smaller side street and through a door with a small red and white wooden sign overhead that read, Landry’s Cajun Kitchen.
Immediately, an older man, short and stocky, came out of the back of the restaurant and clapped Gabe on the back. “Good to see you. It’s been awhile.”
“It has.” Gabe stepped back so his friend could see me. “This is Taylor Leeds. Taylor, this is one of my oldest friends, Jace Landry. The best red beans and rice in the city.”
“Yeah?” I asked as I shook his hand. Pleasure coursed through me that Gabe was introducing me to his friends. I remembered the first night at the bar when he’d gotten upset when I talked to Issac. He seemed to guard his friends closely.
Jace shrugged. “We do pretty well here for being off the main drag.” He gestured in the direction of Harrison Avenue.
“That’s great. I can’t wait to try it out.” I looked around the restaurant, my attention drawn to the man at the grill.
“He’s charbroiling oysters,” Jace said.
We moved closer to the counter in front of the kitchen area. The man placed the oyster shells on the grill, sprinkling seasoning and parmesan cheese over them.
“Do you want to go out back and sit on the terrace?” Jace asked, gesturing down a hallway. “I’ll bring out a platter of oysters when they’re done.”
Gabe glanced at me and I eagerly nodded. I loved eating outside. I enjoyed just watching people walk by or seeing the architecture and the neighborhood.
“Follow me.”
We followed Jace down a narrow hallway and out a rear door to the terrace where several wrought iron tables and chairs were arranged. Pots of greenery overflowed around the edges of the area and lights hung from the buildings on either side of the restaurant. It wasn’t a lake view but it was quaint.
Jace handed us menus, then paused. “Unless you know what you want?”
“Two orders of the red beans and rice. It comes with andouille sausage and white rice. If that’s okay with you?” Gabe raised a brow at me probably expecting me to argue but I knew if he’d brought me here to his favorite restaurant, whatever he suggested would be good or at least worth trying.
I smiled. “Of course.”
Gabe’s eyes stayed on mine.
“Is water okay or did you want a wine list?” Jace asked.
We were dining alone on the patio. Wine would make lunch more intimate—more date-like and after his regrets from the other night, I didn’t want him to reel me in and push me away again. I tore my eyes from Gabe’s. “No, water is fine. I have to go back into the office.”
I felt Gabe’s eyes on me, but I kept my gaze on Jace. “Water’s good for me too,” he said.
When Jace left, I asked, “Is it always this quiet here?”
“No, it’s not. It’s still a little early for lunch and Jace gave us some privacy seating us back here.”
“It’s cute back here.” And romantic. A small breeze moved the air so it wasn’t as hot and humid as usual. I was sure Gabe didn’t intend for me to think it was romantic, but it was. Suddenly nervous, I unfolded the cloth napkin and placed it on my lap. I wished my drink was here so I could soothe my suddenly dry throat.
“Did you know red beans and rice are a Monday meal because Mondays are traditionally laundry days?” His expression was open and relaxed. “Or at least it used to be.”
The atmosphere wasn’t affecting him. “No, I had no idea.”
“Yeah, it’s an easy meal to sit on the stove to cook while you get other things done. It’s my favorite meal, besides jambalaya of course.”
I relaxed a little since he was guiding the conversation. “It’s nice you love the traditional food. In Maryland, you’d run into the rare person who didn’t like seafood. How you can you grow up near the water and not like seafood?”
“What’s the specialty there?”
“We’re known for blue crabs. You can take the meat out and make crab cakes, crab dip, and soup with them. Or you can eat them cooked and you shuck the shells. It’s messy, but so worth it.”
“I’d love to try it sometime.”
Gabe had no reason to see Maryland, so I dismissed his comment as merely polite. A man who’d backtrack so quickly after almost kissing me wouldn’t be following me to Maryland to try out the food.
Jace set a long narrow platter filled with oysters in front of us. “Careful, they’re hot. Enjoy.”
He walked back inside, leaving us alone again.
Gabe squirted lemon on each of the oysters, using a small fork to pull the oyster of the shell, and held the fork in front of my mouth. Keeping my eyes on his, I ate the oyster from his fork, moaning at the rich flavor of the oyster, parmesan cheese, and parsley. “It’s so good.”
Gabe’s eyes heated in response.
I placed a few oyster shells on my appetizer plate. We ate in silence for a few minutes before Jace placed two plates of steaming rice and beans in front of us.
Gabe thanked Jace.
I took a bite of the red beans and rice. It was spicy and flavorful. “It’s so good. I’m glad I got this.”
“I told you.” He smiled knowingly and took a bite of his meal and we ate in silence for a few minutes. “It must be tough living half-way across the country from your family.”
“It is.” I didn’t elaborate. We weren’t at the point where I felt comfortable talking about Caleb. “Have you always lived here?”
“Yes. It’s in my blood.”
“I didn’t think I’d ever leave Annapolis.”
“Why did you?”
“I guess I wanted an adventure.” That was partly the truth. This was my first real trip away from home. My brother was only comfortable in a few places—his home, his doctor, and his school. Otherwise, he got agitated and he was so big now my parents avoided taking him anywhere he’d be uncomfortable. Which meant there weren’t many family vacations.
“How do you like New Orleans so far?”
“I love trying new foods and I love seafood, so New Orleans is perfect for me.” A flush went up my neck to my face from a combination of the spicy food and my words. I didn’t want him to think I meant that he was perfect for me, because he wasn’t. But I couldn’t deny he was a big reason I was enjoying myself here despite his sometimes prickly exterior.
He studied me for a few seconds before taking another bite of his food.
Despite Gabe’s initial misjudgments of me, he’d gotten one thing right—I was a spoiled princess for leaving my family who needed me. I’d shirked my responsibilities so I could be free in a way I’d never experienced and likely wouldn’t experience once my parents were too old to care for Caleb. The guilt never faded from my consciousness—it was ever-present even when I’d lived at home.
As a teen, I’d turned down invitations to parties and outings. I didn’t play sports. My parents had enough going on without chauffeuring me to after-school activities. I’d stayed home while attending college and law school. It made meetin
g men difficult and I hadn’t bothered since that relationship in law school when my boyfriend was annoyed that so much of my time was dedicated to Caleb.
Would I ever be free to choose my own future, or would my brother’s needs always come first? I loved him. I would do anything for him. So this adventure was just that—a brief reprieve from the rest of my life.
Chapter Seven
GABE
After lunch with Taylor, I parted ways with her at the bar. We both needed to go back to work. Showing Taylor New Orleans was a nice distraction from my life working long hours at the bar and helping Zach in the evenings with his homework. And I knew the reason for that. Taylor was young, early to mid-twenties to my thirty years, and she didn’t have any responsibilities. She was a nice break from my life, but we could never be anything more.
I ended up working later than I intended before heading home to check in on Zach. When I arrived he wasn’t waiting by my door. I’d never met his mother and I didn’t want her to know I was helping Zach, but at the same time I wanted to make sure he was okay. I knocked on the door to his apartment, which was directly across from mine. I held my breath hoping his mother wouldn’t answer and demand to know how I knew Zach. I didn’t think many moms would be happy with a man showing interest in their child—even one who was neglectful like Zach’s mom appeared to be.
Not hearing any sounds from the apartment, I carefully tried the knob, which was locked. I had no right to enter or any reason to think they were in danger, but Zach was always waiting for me at my door. He didn’t have a cell phone so I couldn’t call him. I ran my fingers through my hair as I returned to my apartment. I needed to make something for dinner in case Zach was late, but I couldn’t stop pacing my apartment thinking of worst-case scenarios. That he’d gotten into trouble or been arrested. That he’d been beat up and he was lying on the street by himself.
I grabbed my keys, determined to walk the neighborhood until I found him, when there was a knock at the door. I jerked it open to find him standing on the other side with a black eye. I looked both ways down the hall before pulling him inside. “What happened to you? Are you okay?”