Untrusting Hearts: A Contemporary New Orleans Romance

by Hartt, Madison

  “I’m not property and you have no claim on me.” She gazed at him. His features were slackened by alcohol, his eyes bleary. She felt pity and gentled her tone. “You have built something up in your mind that’s never going to happen, Ty. It has nothing to do with Gage.”

  He towered unsteadily over her and poked a finger in her face. “It has everything to do with him. If he wasn’t in the picture, you and I would be cozy by now. Real cozy.”

  “I think we’re done here.” Jade tried to stand but Ty pushed her back down.

  “What do you and Gage do when you’re alone? Come on, cousin, you can tell me. Do you get it on? Does he touch you here?” Leaning forward, his hand slithered between her legs. “How about here?” He groped at her chest.

  Jade gave a small scream and shoved him hard. A cold finger of fear traced its way up her spine. “This is a misunderstanding,” she said and began edging away.

  He took a stumbling step backward but righted himself and lunged forward again. He thrust his face close to hers. “Give me five minutes and you won’t even remember Gage Pichot.”

  “Ty! Stop!”

  “Stop? Oh, baby! I’m only getting started.” He grabbed for her but she evaded his grasp and snatched her handbag from the step.

  “I’m calling a cab.”

  “Be my guest.” His mouth twisted in a sly grin. “Whatever you want.”

  In spite of his agreement, as soon as she opened her purse he pounced on her. He rammed her back against the white wood siding of the apartment building while she twisted and squirmed. But he was stronger and surprisingly agile for someone so inebriated. He pinned her, grabbed her blouse, and popped half the buttons off in his eagerness to undress her.

  Holding her in place easily, Ty ground his lips against her clenched teeth. His hand reached into her torn top and squeezed a bra-covered breast.

  “Nooo,” Jade groaned.

  “You’re one sexy lady,” he panted in her ear. “All this playing around has me so damn hot.”

  “Get away from me!” Her opposition only seemed to arouse him more. The smell of the liquor he’d consumed mixed with the scent of his cloying after-shave made her nauseous. Her mind whirled in turmoil. How could she get out of this without being hurt? Grasping at straws, she asked, “Could we take it slower? Maybe talk a little more first?” She forced her voice to be soft, as if she’d given in to his demands. “This is just so sudden.”

  Her ploy worked. He released his hold, believing his devilish appeal had won her over. “You’re right. I need to dial it back a notch or two. After all, there’s no hurry; we have all night.” He brushed his fingers through his hair, attempting to look suave. “We really should go to my apartment. I have a kick-ass bed, king size, satin sheets. Plenty of privacy.”

  Scanning the street, Jade searched for a way to get away from this maniac. “Whoa! Who’s that?” She gestured behind Ty, causing him to look over his shoulder and giving her some leeway.

  “I don’t see anything.” Ty turned back in time to see Jade hurrying toward the corner.

  “What are you doing? You can’t leave. We were just getting warmed up.” He rushed her, spun her around, and kissed her, trying to force his tongue between her lips.

  “Ty!” Jade worked an arm free and slapped him hard across the face.

  He was stunned motionless for a moment. “Damn it, Jade. Why’d you do that?”

  “Why the hell do you think? Did you think I’d just let you rape me?”

  Ty pushed away from her and lurched back several steps, his face turning white. “Rape you? I wasn’t going to rape you! For god sakes, Jade. I thought you wanted me.”

  Sobbing, Jade clutched her bag to her chest. “Whatever gave you that idea?” she cried, as she backed away, keeping her eyes on him.

  “Where are you going?” he whined.

  “Away from you.” She turned and sprinted down the sidewalk.

  “Go ahead, leave!” he hollered after her. “If you think I’m going to chase your ass, you’re wrong.”

  As Jade rounded the corner, she could still hear him ranting. “I don’t need you; you need me! See how far you get with Maylene if I’m not…”

  Distance thankfully cut off the rest of his tirade. Jade slowed to a jog, shot an anxious look over her shoulder to make sure he wasn’t following her, and found the coast clear. She stopped and leaned over, taking huge gulps of air. Pressed trembling fingers against her temples. Fought to slow her racing heart.

  Chapter 11

  After she escaped Ty’s lecherous clutches, Jade stumbled several blocks, tripped over a curb, lost her balance, and fell hands first into a puddle of stagnant gutter water. With a sob of nervous frustration, Jade climbed to her feet and wiped her hands on her shorts. A scrape on her knee burned like fire. Realizing her bra was exposed, she tugged the material of her blouse together, snagged a piece and pulled it through a buttonhole, temporarily securing the opening.

  She momentarily felt lost. Taking several deep breaths, Jade tried to orient herself. She could tell the way to Bourbon Street by the loud music and chorus of voices. She wrapped her arms around herself, checked again to be sure Ty wasn’t following her, and, reassured, started toward the sounds.

  Throngs of partygoers surrounded her as she neared Bourbon Street. Most wore casual clothes, but there were some in flamboyant costume. Jade couldn’t share their spirit of revelry. The mix of sights and sounds that had so enthralled her earlier seemed little more than a rude cacophony now. Nothing had changed but her attitude, she realized.

  Though groups of people moved in the same direction as herself, Jade felt alone. With an effort, she worked to calm her nerves. Her hands were shaking and she could barely keep from crying out for help, even as her mind told her she was okay.

  She paused just out of sight from the busy street and allowed a group of strangers to wander past, leaving her standing alone. The gaiety of the revelers in front of her seemed alien, some chattered companionably, a few hooted with exuberance.

  As late as it was, the French Quarter still buzzed with activity. Jade huddled close to a building, keeping off Bourbon Street, trying to stay inconspicuous. People filed past carrying long plastic jugs filled with margaritas, beer in plastic cups, and bottles of water; no one noticed her. Some were just arriving, others leaving.

  Jade wanted to leave, too. Go back to Maylene’s mansion. But she had to compose herself first. She needed to decide how she could get inside the mansion without causing a commotion. She didn’t want Maylene or a member of the household staff to see her, at least not until she’d had a chance to repair her appearance.

  As she huddled on the corner, her mind replayed the incident with Ty. Had her panic only escalated matters? If she’d responded more calmly, could she have persuaded Ty to behave himself? Probably not. It hadn’t been simple physical attraction that drove him to attack her. His lust had been fueled by avarice and emboldened by alcohol, and the unreasonable certainty that a union between them would solidify Maylene’s devotion. No, she concluded, she could have done nothing differently.

  As she strove to decide where to go next, a familiar voice broke into her misery. “Jade?”

  She lifted her head to stare into the penetrating eyes of Gage Pichot. Relief flooded her and his name tumbled from her lips. “Gage.” She wanted to throw her arms around his neck.

  Taking a few breaths to calm herself, she stared past him at the crowd as it surged by, spaces opening and being filled by more people. She and Gage could have been invisible.

  “What the hell’s going on?” Gage demanded, taking in her disheveled appearance and missing buttons.

  “Um...” Jade assured her blouse was still secured and shot a look at him. He wore a dark suit and charcoal-gray tie. He had a dinner meeting. Jade now recalled overhearing him mention it to Maylene. “What do you mean?”

  “What do I mean? Are you kidding? Have you looked in a mirror?”

  She gave a dismissive wave wit
h her hand. “I’m fine. Go on to your meeting.”

  “It’s over. Now, tell me what happened?”

  “It’s nothing. I was in a hurry and tripped over something.”

  His jaw tightened. “Son of a... I knew he’d pull something like this.”

  “He?”

  “Dubois. You told me he had something exciting planned for you tonight. It’s not hard to guess what happened.”

  She was worried Gage might confront Ty if he knew how out of control he’d gotten. Searching for a distraction, she asked, “Is that the captain of the Natchez across the street?”

  “That’s enough! Stop trying to change the subject. I want to know exactly what’s going on.” He pulled his jacket off and draped it around her shoulders.

  “Just let it drop, Gage. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He studied her thoughtfully.

  “Please!”

  Giving in, he glanced at his watch. “I should get you back to Maylene’s.”

  “Maybe I should take a cab home. That way, if Maylene asks why I’m not with Ty I can tell her he had too much to drink. She won’t have a hard time believing that.” She sighed and looked down at her clothes. “But that won’t explain why I look like this.”

  “You could just tell the truth.”

  “Not without upsetting the relationship among the three of you.”

  “Sure you’re not harboring feelings for him?”

  “Not good ones.”

  “He has that effect on people. A lot, in fact.” He reached for her and she almost cringed, but he only smoothed back an errant strand of hair from her cheek. “Before you do anything, I think you could use a drink.”

  Her eyes widened and she gestured to herself from top to bottom. “Like this?”

  “You’ll be fine. And don’t worry; if it becomes necessary I’ll come up with something to tell Maylene. But I think you’re worrying over nothing, the whole household is bound to be asleep already.”

  She gave him a wry look, pulling his jacket close around her. “Where are you taking me? A topless bar?”

  He frowned, not finding humor in the situation. “How about my place instead? I can whip up a snack to go with our drinks.” He chucked her lightly on the chin. “It’s okay; you don’t need to look so worried. I won’t try to feed you swamp rats or alligator tails.”

  She wasn’t worried about his culinary skills; she was thinking, rather, of his other talents. Every time she was alone with this man she was gambling with her heart. Did she want to take the risk? She gulped.

  “You know what? I’m not really thirsty.”

  He held her gaze. “Let me sweeten the deal. We can reinstate our ceasefire.”

  “For all the good that will do.” She rolled her eyes.

  Chapter 12

  Gage’s apartment was not far from Maylene’s house. He lived on the third floor of a stately Southern mansion that had been turned into apartments. His living room walls were light gray, his furnishings mostly charcoal and black. Bold burgundy and deep blue throw pillows decorated his leather sofa and broke the monochrome uniformity. One wall held a set of bookshelves beneath a flat-screen television, and another a full bank of windows covered in dark blinds that were open to the night. On the third wall hung an art deco style painting of an intense-looking woman in green holding a bouquet of calla lilies. Beneath the artwork stretched a long cabinet that housed a stereo system and an impressive collection of CDs. A steamer trunk served as a coffee table. Lying on its top were a couple of remote controls and a large ceramic ashtray in the rough shape of a boat.

  Jade bent to examine it and then straightened, a look of surprise on her face. “Do you smoke?”

  “No, of course not. I made that for my dad when I was a kid.” He took his jacket from her shoulders and draped it over a chair before removing his tie.

  “I can’t picture you as a potter.”

  He reached over, took her purse, and set it aside. “I might surprise you. I’m pretty good with my hands.”

  A thrill passed through her, but she ignored it. “Why is it here instead of with your father?”

  “He didn’t want it.” He answered casually, but a look flashed across his face, there and gone, that gave her a glimpse into what his childhood was like before Jean Pierre took him under his wing.

  “Do you still work with clay?” She strove to lighten the tone.

  “No. It was just a class project.” His eyes narrowed as they fell on her hands and blouse. “We need to get you cleaned up. You can borrow one of my shirts. You’ll swim in it, but it’s better than spending the rest of the night holding yours closed. I also have a pair of shorts with a drawstring that you can use.”

  He left and returned with a dark green t-shirt and pair of blue and white striped boxers. When he handed them to her, he gestured toward the hallway. “Bathroom’s that way; I laid out a washcloth and towel.”

  “Okay.” She dug her hairbrush from her purse along with her cosmetics bag and walked down the hall. Closing the door behind her, she stared at her reflection. No wonder Gage had reacted the way he did. Her hair was a mess, her face pale, her clothes dirty. She quickly removed her blouse and shorts and scrubbed her face, arms, hands and legs. She brushed the tangles from her hair and applied new makeup before slipping into his clothes, which hung on her like bags. She tightened the strings on the boxers and tied a knot in the hem of the alligator adorned t-shirt.

  Her spirits lifted and she felt ready to let the episode with Ty slip into the background. He’d been pretty drunk. Though that didn’t absolve him, it did present an explanation of sorts. She tried to push it from her mind.

  When she reentered the living room, she found Gage staring out the front window. He turned when he heard her come in. The top button on his shirt was undone, and his sleeves were rolled up. His rich brown eyes were warm as he appraised her. “Those look better on you than they ever did on me,” he said with a half-grin.

  “Thanks for the loan. I’ll get them back to you next time I see you.” She returned her items to her purse and placed her folded blouse and shorts in on top. She turned to find him watching her. To divert him, she said, “So I thought you were going to fix me a drink.”

  “You told me you weren’t thirsty.”

  “I changed my mind.” She ran her fingers across the back of a row of CDs and settled on one at random. Pulling the case from the shelf, she gazed at the image of Louis Armstrong on the cover. “You could at least pop the top on a can of beer.”

  “Beer? Now, Jade, I can do better than that.” He moved toward her.

  “Don’t forget you mentioned food. Now that I think about it, I could go for a little snack.”

  “So could I.” His sensuous lips curved in a slow smile.

  “Can we listen to this?” She pushed the CD toward him when his expression revealed his idea of a snack differed radically from hers.

  “You like Armstrong?” His tone was dubious.

  “I don’t know. I might.” Her eyes teased him. “Does that surprise you?”

  “Given your age, yes; although, he is the father of jazz.”

  “I’m not that much younger than you; I’m just not certain I’ve ever heard his music.”

  He handed her back the CD and said, “I’ve got this on my iPod; this is a backup. Let me just select a playlist...there, that should keep us going.” As the music began, he said, “My dad used to listen to vintage stuff. It grew on me. And Louis Armstrong is New Orleans.”

  Twice in one night he’d mentioned his father, and both times his tone of voice made it clear to Jade the relationship had been flawed. “Does he still like the same music?”

  “I have no idea. I haven’t seen the man in years.” He turned away from her. “Come keep me company in the kitchen.”

  The gravely tones of What a Wonderful World filled the background.

  “You need my help?” she asked, following Gage into the next room.

  “I need nothing
but your sparkling conversation.” He rummaged in the refrigerator and produced a carton of eggs, a block of cheese, and a stick of butter. “Omelet okay?”

  “Sounds good.” Jade pulled up a stool at the island and propped her chin in her hand. “I still feel like I should be doing something.”

  “You are doing something. You’re keeping me entertained while I work.” He took an onion from a basket on the counter, a knife from the drawer, and selected a gleaming stainless steel skillet from a cabinet.

  Jade ran a fingertip along the edge of a tile on the countertop. “Tell me about your dad,” she ventured.

  He paused for a second, then busied his hands once again, preparing their meal. “I’d like to say he’s a dreamer. A man so filled with ideas he could never settle on one and see it to fruition. Anyway, that’s how he would probably describe himself. The truth is, he’s something of a bum. Always has been. He never had much time for Mom and me, always talking big and going out of his way to avoid a real job. I still remember him packing that old suitcase of his, getting ready to head out on the road, pursuing one scheme or another. He’d take what little cash we had out of the Mason jar in the kitchen cupboard to fund his latest venture. Money we needed. Basically, taking little solitary vacations while we sat in that ugly apartment wondering how the rent was going to get paid. Mom and I were hungry a lot. It wasn’t pleasant. My dad specialized in promises. Broken ones.”

  He cracked several eggs in a bowl, added some milk, and started beating them with a whisk. “Once I was old enough to see my old man the way he truly was, to face harsh reality, I figured out if I didn’t want to be poor all my life, it was going to be up to me to do something about it. When I was twelve, I got a newspaper route and mowed lawns. Weeded gardens. When I was thirteen, I tutored little kids in math and did odd chores for the fishermen down at the wharf. When I was fourteen, I went to work for JP’s and it changed my life. Just by pure dumb luck, Jean Pierre happened in and took notice of me. You know, he was the man my father should’ve been. No, let me rephrase that. Jean Pierre was the father my old man could never be.” He spoke matter-of-factly, without bitterness, as he moved efficiently from counter to stove. “He and Maylene saw to it I had a decent roof over my head and an education. My dad was only too happy to be rid of me.”