Kellie narrowed her eyes. “Why? You keep checking that map. Where are we going?” She snatched the paper from Alex’s hand and noted the block circled in pen. “What’s this?”
Alex snatched the paper back. “It’s Starlet’s address. I figured this way we’ll know where we’re going tomorrow.”
“Alex, I thought we agreed to relax tonight.”
“I know, but I’m curious.”
“Curious?”
“Okay, I’m anxious.”
Kellie studied her for a moment, then pulled her into a hug. “I can imagine. If I remembered her, I’d probably be nervous, too.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Come on, let’s go hunting.” Kellie linked an arm through hers, checked the map, and headed toward Dauphin Street.
The condo was situated in the middle of the block in a pink building with ornate black wrought iron work and lace-curtained windows. It looked as if it had fallen out of time and belonged to an earlier era. Very French and quaint.
Kellie shielded her eyes with her hand and tilted her head back, staring at the upper level windows. “Do you think she’s up there now?”
Alex dragged her behind a parked truck. “Don’t look so obvious. If she is, she might see you.”
“Yeah, like she’d recognize me. Isn’t that the idea? That she sees us?”
“Yes, but not now.” Alex tugged on Kellie’s arm. “This was a bad idea. Let’s go.”
Kellie tripped and stumbled after her. “It was your idea. I’m just along for the ride.”
On Bourbon Street, they browsed everything from Voodoo shops to the exteriors of questionable bars with half-naked dancers in the front windows. “This place is unreal. I love it here.” Kellie pointed to a guy across the street with a large snake entwined around his body. “Now that creeps me out completely.”
Alex stopped walking. “I think this whole thing is a bad idea. We should go home.”
Kellie pulled her back, out of the way of foot traffic. “Is that what you want to do? I don’t think it’s the thing to do, but I’m with you if it’s what you decide.”
Leaning against the storefront, Alex shook her head. “I don’t know.”
A tap on the window behind them drew their attention. A male dancer wearing only a g-string thong that left nothing to the imagination thrust his hips forward and wagged his tongue at them.
“Eewww,” Alex said.
“Come with me.” Kellie took her hand and dragged her through the next door into a smoky bar. “Get us a table. I’ll be right there.”
Alex squinted into the darkness and located a small table in a corner.
Kellie soon set down two glasses of wine and sat opposite her. “Drink and talk.”
The wine was cool and smooth and felt like liquid silk. Alex sipped for a few moments, staring at her sister. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like a frightened child. I don’t like it.”
Kellie nodded. She was in therapist mode—a calling she had ignored, the gifts for which she possessed.
Alex traced a finger around the wineglass. “I keep thinking this is some kind of trick, that Starlet won’t be there when we show up. She’ll leave a note and this will have all been for nothing.”
Kellie squeezed her hand. “It’s okay to be afraid.”
Alex forced a smile. Kellie knew little about this kind of fear. Alex had protected her from it when they were kids. She’d borne the fear for the both of them—the fear of being evicted, the fear of not having food on the table, the fear of being left alone in a dark apartment, the fear of the men Starlet brought home. She remembered her confusion after their mother left. Part of her feared Starlet would never return. And another part of her feared she would come back and take them from the warm, safe, loving environment their grandfather offered. The guilt over that conflict sent her into her shell and made her a social outcast through most of her school years.
A sudden rush of anger warmed her from the inside out. Or was it the wine? No matter. She decided then and there she would not allow Starlet to cause any more fear, guilt or confusion in her life. Alex drained her glass. “You’re wrong. It’s not okay to be afraid. I’m almost thirty years old. I grew up surrounded by love either thanks to Starlet or in spite of her. I started an animal shelter and built it from next to nothing, with practically no revenue. There is nothing Starlet can do to me now that I have to fear.”
Later, as she lay awake staring at the ceiling, Alex wished she could believe her words. Tears escaped the corners of her eyes and rolled down her temples. The little girl abandoned years earlier emerged, heartbroken and trembling, longing for her mother. Despite the time that had passed, that little girl trembled with anticipation of what the next morning would bring.
Chapter Fourteen
Evan drove slowly, leaning out the open window, his eyes scanning the dark side streets. “Walter! Come here boy.” He stopped at every cross street and waited, listening. “Alex is going to kill me,” he muttered. He rounded the block and drove to the cemetery. The sky was clouded over and no light shone from the moon. The graveyard was black as pitch.
Rifling in the glove box, Evan located a flashlight and stepped out of the vehicle. In the dark, it was hard to locate his aunt’s grave. He flashed the light across headstones and called for the dog. A rustling to his right drew his attention. Two yellow eyes caught in the beam of light and a raccoon stared at him before clambering off into the brush. Every horror movie he’d ever seen flashed through his mind.
“Walter! Here boy. Please don’t make me tromp through a dark graveyard.” Evan shone the light at his feet and stepped gingerly between headstones, intermittently calling the dog. As he searched the headstones, a whimper sounded from somewhere to his left. He swung around and the light caught the glint of another pair of eyes.
Walter lay atop Amy’s grave. He lifted his head and panted as Evan approached.
“You are in big trouble.”
The dog whined and laid his head back on his paws. Evan squatted down beside him. “You really loved her, huh?” He reached out and stroked the dog’s head, then sat on the ground, his shoulder leaning on his aunt’s headstone. “There’s so much I don’t know about Aunt Amelia. I sure wish you could talk to me.”
Evan dropped his head back and stared up as a break in the clouds revealed a sprinkling of stars. Gazing at the clearing skies, he noticed one particularly bright star blinking as if to send a signal. He remembered summer nights sitting on the lawn with his mother who pointed out constellations to him. He also remembered sitting with her as cancer slowly stole her away from him. She couldn’t tolerate a lot of light and he sat in the dimly lit room beside her hospital bed, holding her hand. She had squeezed his hand and forced a trembling smile. “Evan, you’re a wonderful son. You’ll be a good man. Your father…. Your father loves you in his own way. But you become the man you want to be, not the man he tells you to become. He means well, but he never could see the stars for the clouds. Always look for the stars.”
A lump bobbed in his throat as he swallowed hard. Walter inched forward, resting his muzzle on Evan’s thigh. “You think they’re still looking after us, Walter? I like to think so. I’ve tried to become the kind of man to make my mother proud. But I’ve sure screwed things up lately.”
The dog lifted a paw and settled it on Evan’s knee as if to console him.
“You know, Alex is a nice person. Not hard to look at, either. Don’t tell her I said so, but she’s hot. I know she and I have our differences, but I like her. She’s smart and she’s tough—in a good way. But she doesn’t seem to be all that interested in me.” He sighed. “Did you know I was once in demand in New York as one of the top chef’s of the city? I’ll bet you didn’t know that. Then it all fell apart. My life became a country song—I lost my business, my wife, my reputation, and most of my money. And now here I am, sitting in a Mississippi graveyard at midnight talking to a dog.”
Walter glanced up
at him and moaned.
“I’m sorry, but you are a dog.” Evan scratched behind Walter’s ears. “You’re a good listener, Walter. What do you say you and I go home and share some ice cream? My treat.”
As if understanding, Walter got to his feet and waited for Evan to do the same.
Evan let the dog into the back seat of the SUV. But once he started the vehicle, he patted the front. “Come on up here. Just don’t stick your nose in my ear or drool on my seat.”
Walter claimed the passenger seat and stuck his head out the open window.
When they reached home, Evan parked and opened his door. Walter jumped across the console and beat Evan to the front door. In the kitchen, Evan took two bowls from the cupboard and the quart of vanilla ice cream from the freezer. “I shouldn’t reward your bad behavior, you know. But I’m going to give you a second chance. We all deserve second chances.” He set a bowl of ice cream on the floor and leaned back against the sink with his own. “I guess some would say this is my second chance. Not what I had in mind. Don’t take that personally. You’re kind of growing on me, though.”
The dog sat and stared up at him, licking his chops.
“You liked that, huh?” Evan finished off his last spoonful and set the bowl in the sink, before picking up the one from the floor. “It’s late and I have a big day tomorrow. We’re putting the final touches on the restaurant and getting set for the big opening. Let’s hit the hay.” He turned off lights as he headed for the stairs. Walter followed behind and, when Evan stripped to his boxers and settled into bed, Walter lay on the rug beside the bed with a whump.
Evan grinned as he closed his eyes and dropped his hand to rest on Walter’s head. He wakened with a start when the dog shoved a cold, wet nose against his cheek. “What?”
Walter whimpered and walked to the door, then looked back.
“You need to go out. It figures.” Evan swung his feet over the side of the bed and grabbed for his jeans, tugging them on. “This is strike number two for you tonight. I’ll have you know I was in the middle of a very interesting dream involving Alex and little else.”
Once outside, it didn’t take Evan long to realize Walter was lactose intolerant. “Maybe I should tie you out here tonight.” A thought of the possible wildlife living beyond the fringe of the back yard gave him pause. “You wake me again if you need to. It’s better than the alternative. No more ice cream for you, buddy.”
Climbing back into bed, Evan closed his eyes and tried to recall the dream, but without success. Instead the vision of Alex as he’d last seen her—glowing skin, broad smile and those eyes—invaded his thoughts. Dammit, he liked her. Why’d he have to go and like her? That’s how it had started with Tiffany. He liked her. And then he loved her. And he lost her. What was that saying about better to have loved and lost…? Better to stick to his plan, get his business running, restore his reputation and, if it didn’t all work out, get out of this town once his year was up.
*
His ringing cell phone jerked Evan from a sound sleep. He glanced at the clock—5:45 a.m. “Hello?”
“Evan, how are things going in the deep south?”
“Who is this?”
“Seriously?”
His breath caught. “Tiff? Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Oh, sorry. Forgot about the time zone difference.”
Evan sat up and swung his feet over the side of the bed. He dragged fingers through his disheveled hair. “What do you want?”
“I was thinking about you, that’s all. Can’t an old friend call to say hello?”
“You’re not an old friend. And the last time I checked, you and I had nothing more to talk about.” How the hell did she find out where I am and about my inheritance? He figured the money was the only reason she’d be calling.
“Oh, Evan, I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
In the background, he heard a jumble of voices and wondered where she could be that early in the morning. Probably the fitness center. “Only one? Look, I have to get to work. I’d say it’s been nice chatting with you but, well, you know better.”
“Wait.” She sniffled into the phone. “I miss you, Evan. I should never have walked away from you. I’m sorry.”
He held the phone away from his ear and stared. “You’re sorry? My business was destroyed along with my reputation and you add fuel to the fire by walking out on me and you’re sorry? What do you really want, Tiff?”
“I want a second chance. I want to come and see you, talk things out.”
Evan stood and paced. His words from the previous night came back to him—everyone deserves a second chance. “No. Absolutely not. Do not come down here.” The announcement for the boarding of flight 1032 to Memphis came through the phone. “Do not get on that plane. I don’t want to see you.”
“I know you feel that way now, but once we’re face to face and talk this out, I know we can make it work between us. See you in a few hours. I know you’re busy, so I’ll rent a car at the airport. I have the address.”
“How did you get my…?” Dead air. She’d hung up. “Damn! This is the last thing I need.”
Walter stared up at him and gave a low groan as if in agreement.
“I don’t suppose I can train you to act ferocious in the next couple of hours.”
In response the dog lifted his head and whined.
As he showered, Evan considered his options. Tiffany had never been good at taking no for an answer. He could pack a bag and leave town for a few days. He could talk to the Sheriff and have Tiffany forcibly removed from his premises. That wouldn’t work for several reasons, not the least of which was that she could charm her way out of any situation. Except with him. He would not succumb to her charms any longer.
He considered how he might use Tiffany’s presence to his advantage. If she stayed a few days and was still there when Alex returned, that should end any possibility of Alex being interested in a relationship with him. By the end of the week, he could have both women out of his life and focus on his own future and his business. He wouldn’t have to worry about his attraction to Alex because she’d have nothing to do with him. He rinsed the shampoo lather from his hair, grinning. This could work. To Alex he would appear to still be interested in his ex-wife. To Tiffany, he would give the appearance of being interested in Alex and that would send Tiffany packing after the grand opening of Amelia’s on Friday. He didn’t owe her anything, after all. He toweled off, glowing in his own brilliance. This was a foolproof plan.
Walter followed him from the bedroom to the kitchen and waited patiently for his breakfast. Evan whistled as he filled the dog’s dishes, then made himself an omelet and toast. He wouldn’t have to rely on his own resolve to stay away from Alex. He was sure Tiffany would take care of that for him. And once Tiffany knew he hadn’t received his inheritance and had to remain in Mississippi for at least a year, she’d head back to New York in search of greener pastures.
Evan was supervising the arrangement of tables and chairs when the door opened and he glanced up. Tiffany, tall and blond, looking a lot like a runway model, stood backlit by the afternoon sun. The light created a halo around her, but Evan knew better.
She stepped inside, letting the door swing shut, snuffing out the glow of light. It seemed to be her gift. “Oh, Evan, this place is so…so…charming.”
“I told you not to come here.”
“I know.” She stuck her lower lip out in a pout. “But I’ve missed you and I was dying to see your new restaurant.” She stalked toward him the way a cat approached prey. “You poor boy, look at you.”
He involuntarily glanced down at himself. “What?” When he lifted his head, she was right in front of him, closing in for a kiss. He backed away.
“You look so rumpled. Don’t tell me you have no one to look after you. There must be someone in this town who knows how to properly iron clothing. I didn’t see a dry cleaner or much of anything else as I drove through here. How can you stand i
t out here in the middle of nowhere?”
When she paused for a breath, Evan regrouped and said, “I like it here. It’s a small town and the people are great. No one standing around waiting to slit my throat, if you know what I mean.”
The work crew stood, leering at Tiffany. “You guys can take a break. Somewhere else.” The men weren’t in a hurry to be dismissed. One of the men uttered something in Spanish and the others followed him from the room.
She fanned a hand in front of her face. “It’s ungodly hot here. Do you suppose I could get a cold drink?”
“Absolutely. I’ll get you a glass of the local special. Be right back.” Evan hustled to the kitchen and poured a tall glass of sweet tea, knowing it would set Tiffany’s teeth on edge. He added a garnish of a lemon wedge and carried it to her. “Here you go.”
She sipped and grimaced. “Oh, my God, what is that stuff?” She thrust the glass at him as if she expected it to explode in her hand.
“Sweet tea. It’s what we drink here in the south.” He hoped lightning didn’t strike him for the ‘we’ he’d interjected.
She shuddered. So did he. Much as he’d tried, he could not develop a taste for the sweet drink. But he’d serve it at Amelia’s all the same. His phone beeped and he checked it to find a text from Alex. He’d read it later, in private.
“I’m dying to see your house. I love old southern architecture, don’t you?”
He set the glass on the bar. “You won’t see my house.”
Tiffany flashed a broad smile. “Of course I will. I’m staying there with you. Technically, we’re still married.”
Huh? She’d filed for divorce. He got the papers right as he was packing everything to make his move. And he signed them. Or he intended to sign them. Oh, crap. Did I ever sign those papers?
Chapter Fifteen
After three cups of coffee and half a beignet at Café Du Monde, Alex set off on a brisk walk toward Dauphin Street. Kellie hurried along behind. “Are we in a race?”
“I want to get this over with and go home.”
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