Tabby’s interest was piqued as well. Though visions of Jagger Brodie were still sauntering through her dreams, she truly wanted to know how Jocelyn’s date with Armando had ended.
Jocelyn smiled. “Oh, he kissed me good night, all right.”
“He did?” Tabby asked.
“Oh, yes.”
“And?” Emmy prodded.
“And wouldn’t you like to know, Emmy?” Jocelyn teased as a triumphant smile spread across her face.
“Joss!” Emmy said, stomping her foot like a toddler. “You have to tell us!”
Jocelyn shrugged, playing at nonchalance. “I have a meeting in fifteen minutes. It will just have to wait until tomorrow.”
“You are so mean sometimes,” Emmy giggled.
Tabby’s attention was drawn to something else, however, and she didn’t hear another word of the bantering exchange between Emmy and Jocelyn.
Jagger Brodie was walking just a ways ahead of them. Keira from accounting was with him, of course, but it was Jagger Tabby concentrated on—the way his broad shoulders rocked with the rhythm of his entirely too-cool saunter. She smiled as she realized Jagger Brodie didn’t walk. He didn’t even saunter. Jagger Brodie swaggered. It wasn’t an arrogant swagger. She doubted he was even aware he walked this way. Yet it was so perfectly cool—so swank. She frowned a moment, suddenly puzzled. He never walked this way at the office, she was certain—for she’d watched him walk as much as was physically possible from her seat at her desk. Thus, she wondered whether this was Jagger Brodie’s natural pace—this too-cool, rhythmic swagger—or was the more average manner with which he walked at the office his true stride?
Suddenly, Tabby was all the more deliciously intrigued with Jagger Brodie, the Derrière inator. For a moment, she wished Johnny Depp really had walked through the door and into the shark tank viewing room—because she would love nothing more than to dig up the courage to find a way to actually get to know his royal hiney-ness.
Tabby bit her lip, giggling as she whispered, “His Royal Hineyness.” Shaking her head, she breathed, “I need to get a grip.”
“No,” Emmy said, obviously having heard Tabby’s mutterings to herself. “What you need to get is a mean lip-lock on that man up there.”
“There’s more to life than making out in the break room,” Tabby said. “Just ask Naomi.”
“Like what?” Emmy teased.
Tabby shook her head as Emmy giggled, amused by her own wit.
CHAPTER FOUR
The night after she’d seen Jagger Brodie at the aquarium, Tabby had difficulty finding a space of calm. She was restless—seemed unable to settle her nerves—felt fidgety and somehow tense. The incident kept playing over and over in her mind: the way they’d been talking about Jagger—Emmy, Naomi, and Jocelyn egging her on, encouraging her to ask Jagger out, or at least talk to him more often. And then, almost as if he’d been listening and some unseen stage manager had cued him to appear, he did! It was weird, the way he seemed to show up every time she and her friends were talking about him lately—almost freaky. The same thing had happened at the Acapulco the week before. It didn’t help that the weirdness seemed to spill over from lunch and into the office.
The very day following the Jagger sighting at the aquarium, another incident occurred to rattle Tabby. Feeling uptight and agitated, she’d decided to turn to her old friend chocolate for comfort. She dug around in the bottom of her purse, scrounged up four quarters, and headed for the break room, hoping the F5 slot in the vending machine wasn’t already empty. She needed a Baby Ruth bar, and she needed it quickly!
Tabby sighed with relief, smiling as she saw there were still several Baby Ruth bars in the vending machine. She inserted the quarters one at a time, making sure each one clicked and clinked. When she’d put in a whole dollar, she pushed F5 and watched as the release mechanism pushed the candy bar forward to drop into the slot below.
Retrieving the candy bar from the vending machine slot, Tabby had torn into it like a ravenous dog. She sighed as she chewed the first bite of chocolate, peanuts, and nougat confection, wondering how it was that sugar and chocolate could calm a soul so instantaneously. Taking another bite, she turned around to head back to her desk.
She’d nearly choked to death as she saw Jagger Brodie standing behind her. He smiled as she continued to chew.
“Hi,” he’d said, grinning at her. He was amused. It was sorely obvious by the way a full-fledged smile threatened to spread across his face as he looked at her.
“Hi,” Tabby had managed to mumble. She was mortified! Why had she taken such an enormous-sized bite of the candy bar?
“Baby Ruth, huh?” Jagger asked as she stepped aside so he could approach the vending machine.
“Mm hm,” Tabby confirmed. Her mouth was still too full of candy to properly respond.
“I’m a Twix man myself,” he said, pulling a handful of change from his pocket and inserting various coins into the vending machine.
Tabby chewed like a mad woman as she watched the Derrière-inator retrieve his candy bar from the machine.
He turned, grinned at her again, and said, “See ya.”
“Mm hm,” Tabby mumbled, forcing a friendly grin in return. She wondered how red her face was. From the humiliation coursing through her veins, she was sure it was at least as red as a baboon’s behind!
She watched him saunter out of the break room—watched him nod a greeting to Emmy as Emmy entered.
Emmy’s eyes widened, and so did her smile, as she stepped into the break room and spied Tabby.
“Are you serious?” Emmy whispered. “Have you finally been making out with Jagger Brodie in the break room?”
By this time, Tabby had managed to swallow the bite of Baby Ruth bar she’d been chewing so voraciously that her jaws now hurt.
“Oh, yeah…sure,” Tabby said, nodding to emphasize her sarcasm. “He only came in here and found me wolfing down a candy bar like a starving dog!”
Emmy laughed, and eventually her amusement spilled over onto Tabby. Nothing could be done about it. She’d looked like a fool in front of His Royal Hineyness, the Derrière inator. There was nothing to do but go back to her desk and get to work.
The incident haunted Tabby, however. She could only imagine how stupid she must’ve looked, standing there in front of the vending machine chowing down like a pig. She only hoped she hadn’t moaned out loud as she sometimes did when something delicious first touched her tongue. She couldn’t remember moaning but couldn’t be certain she hadn’t either.
Throughout the week, there were several other incidents—occasions where Tabby found herself unexpectedly face-to-face with Jagger Brodie. Each time she’d tried to appear calm and unaffected—and each time she was nearly certain she’d failed miserably.
At long last, Friday showed up. All week Tabby had been looking forward to Friday’s lunch. After days of feeling jittery and sort of uncertain somehow, she hoped lunch out with the girls at Sweet Genevieve’s would help her settle down a bit. After all, what were the odds Jagger Brodie would wind up running into them a second Friday in a row? Slim to none, for Sweet Genevieve’s wasn’t in walking distance from the office, and most of the staff didn’t want to mess with getting in and out of the parking garage at lunchtime.
“What kind of food does this place have?” Jocelyn asked from the backseat of Tabby’s car.
“New Orleans type stuff,” Tabby answered. “I mean, after all, it is a blues and jazz place.”
“So, like, fish?” Jocelyn asked.
“I guess,” Tabby said.
“And just who are you so busily texting, Naomi?” Emmy asked then.
Tabby glanced in her rearview mirror to see Naomi smiling, attention focused on her cell, thumbs flying at the speed of light.
“Anthony,” Naomi giggled.
“Anthony?” Jocelyn asked.
“The professor guy?” Emmy asked.
Naomi looked up from her texting, triumphantly smiling as
she said, “Yes. Professor Anthony Lowery. He’s in town again this weekend, and he’s taking me to dinner tonight.”
“Oooo! Tell us if he’s a good kisser,” Emmy teased.
“I swear, Emmy. Don’t you think about anything else?” Naomi exclaimed, shaking her head in displaying disapproval—although the blush on her cheeks and the breadth of her smile spoke volumes in revealing her true feelings.
Tabby giggled as she pulled into the parking lot of Sweet Genevieve’s.
“This is it,” she announced, trying not to be distracted from looking for a parking spot as she glanced at the building.
“It looks busy,” Naomi said. “We only have an hour.”
Tabby smiled. “That’s why I called ahead and made a reservation,” she said. “I do have some brains, Naomi.”
Once she’d parked the car, Tabby hurried to get out of it. She couldn’t wait! She’d heard wonderful things about the restaurant. Her dad and mom had tried it out the week before and raved about the food and atmosphere. They felt it beat any restaurant in the city for both.
Tabby smiled as she studied the building for a moment. An old house restored to closely resemble what it had looked like a hundred or more years ago, Sweet Genevieve’s was as inviting as a dream. The building was very rustic in appearance. Its weathered wood siding reminded Tabby of something someone might see on a tour of the old South, maybe something near a river or bayou. What looked to be lilac trees enveloped its perimeter, and Tabby could only imagine how alluring the scene would be in late spring when the lilacs were in full bloom.
“Okay, Tabby,” Naomi said, smiling. “I like it.”
Tabby smiled, enchanted as they crossed the parking lot to hear classic blues music drifting over the air. The outward appearance of the restaurant combined with the piped blues music was like a lure—some kind of hypnotic lure one could almost taste—at least for Tabby.
Stepping into the restaurant had an even more sensational effect on her. The lights were dimmed, naturally, the entire interior done in roughly finished wood. Spanish moss hung from the large ceiling beams painted to look like cypress limbs. Fishnets adorned many of the walls, and in one corner was a water feature with a pond at its base filled with fish. Several taxidermied alligators were placed in and about the entry, and several small boats turned upside down served as benches. The entire ambiance of the restaurant was surreal. Tabby felt as if she’d stepped out of the office and into some bayou in the Deep South! The titillating aromas of fish fry, spices, and Tabasco sauce caused her stomach to growl on the spot, and she couldn’t wait to be seated—to look at a menu and hear the noontime entertainment that was supposed to be part of the Sweet Genevieve’s experience.
A hostess podium stood just inside the door. As Tabby glanced around the interior of the restaurant, she saw that the hostess podium seemed to serve as the median between the side of the restaurant to the left—obviously housing the kitchen and patron dining tables—and the lesser area to the right—which was still very spacious but filled with chairs and a few smaller tables facing a small, raised platform stage.
At the sight of the stage, Tabby smiled. Her dad had assured her Sweet Genevieve’s featured live music during lunch and dinner on the weekends—blues and jazz. Tabby knew at once that, though the Acapulco would probably always be Jocelyn and Emmy’s favorite restaurant, she had just found hers.
“Welcome to Sweet Genevieve’s!” an older woman happily greeted as she approached the podium. “Y’all here for somethin’ to eat? Or have ya come to feel the blues?”
“Both!” Tabby exclaimed as her excitement rose to an almost tangible level.
The woman smiled, chuckled, and nodded. “That’s what we like to hear, darlin’!”
“And I did call ahead,” Tabby added, noting that the restaurant side of the establishment looked packed.
“Good thing, honey…because we are stuffed to our gills today!”
Tabby glanced to Emmy and Jocelyn, happy to see they looked as excited as she felt. Naomi, not unexpectedly, wore her usual expression of reservation.
“I’m Addie, and if you girls will just follow me, we’ll get y’all fed so you can enjoy the music when it starts.”
Addie seated Tabby and her friends at a table and left them to look over the menus.
“Mmmm!” Emmy sighed. “This all looks so good!”
“With very reasonable prices,” Naomi added.
“Seafood gumbo, crawfish scampi, rosemary cornbread. I’m in heaven!” Jocelyn exclaimed.
Tabby sighed, relieved that the relaxing atmosphere of Sweet Genevieve’s was serving to calm her nerves. She felt as if she hadn’t taken a good breath in days, and the delicious aromas of the restaurant were just what she needed to relax.
After a minute or two of silent menu perusing, Emmy asked, “Should I get the blackened catfish or the jambalaya?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the pan-seared shrimp,” Jocelyn suggested. “It comes with the rosemary cornbread, see?” she added, pointing to an item on the menu.
Naomi closed her menu and opened her cell phone. “I’m going to try the seafood gumbo and rosemary cornbread,” she said as she smiled, her thumbs flying on her phone keyboard as she answered another text.
Tabby, Emmy, and Jocelyn exchanged amused glances.
“I never thought I’d see the day when Naomi’s menu decision was cut short in favor of text messaging,” Emmy said.
“He’s picking me up at six,” Naomi giggled to herself.
“I never thought I’d see the day when a man caused Naomi to smile like that,” Jocelyn giggled.
“Well, Anthony’s different,” Naomi said, nodding her thanks to the handsome young waiter who was busily placing glasses of water on their table.
“Apparently,” Emmy said.
“And how are you ladies doin’ this afternoon?” the waiter asked.
Tabby smiled, thinking the waiter’s accent sounded very like that of the hostess.
“We’re great,” Jocelyn answered. “And it’s wonderful in here!”
“Thank you, ma’am,” the waiter said, smiling and nodding. “I know y’all will enjoy your meal…and be sure to stick around for the music.” The young man glanced up to a clock on the wall—a clock set inside an enormous alligator head. “I think the show begins in about thirty minutes.”
“Is that real?” Naomi asked, frowning as she stared at the alligator head mounted on the wall.
“Yes, ma’am,” the waiter answered. “But don’t worry, ma’am. It wasn’t hunted for sport…though it was hunted down in its day, for chompin’ down a man. It’s over forty years old. Miss Genevieve’s husband killed it, performed a bit of taxidermy, and turned that ol’ gator into a clock.”
Tabby giggled as Naomi’s eyes widened with astonishment.
“I’m Rhett, and I’ll be your waiter, so you ladies just let me know when y’all are ready to order,” the young man said.
“Rhett? Really?” Naomi asked.
Tabby rolled her eyes, somewhat annoyed by Naomi’s perpetual attitude of doubt.
“Yes, ma’am,” the waiter said. His smile broadened as he nodded to Naomi, adding, “And yes, ma’am…I’m named after that Rhett.” Tabby giggled as the waiter winked at Naomi, adding, “I’ll give you ladies a minute or two. All right?”
“Thanks,” Tabby told him as he turned and sauntered toward another table.
“Well, he’s just too delicious!” Emmy whispered. “Are you telling me that even the waiters are flown in from the bayou?”
Everyone giggled and continued to study the menus—everyone except Naomi. She’d made her decision and was busily texting away.
Tabby sighed. The atmosphere of the restaurant was soothing. For the first time in days, she felt calm, at ease, and entirely happy.
“I’ve never had crawfish,” Emmy said, still studying the menu. “I wonder if it’s gross. They have it as an appetizer here. Should we try it?”
“Not me,” Joce
lyn said. “I’ll stick with something else.”
Tabby smiled, decided to try the crawfish scampi, and looked to the stage at the other end of the restaurant. This was an escape from the office; this was what she needed.
❦
“It was so good I’m sick!” Jocelyn moaned, leaning back in her chair. “Armando is taking me to a movie tonight. I hope he’s not planning to do dinner too. I’ll pop!”
“What are you doing tonight, Tabs?” Emmy asked. “Any big plans?”
Tabby smiled, feeling sorry for Emmy. Emmy loved Luke—truly, deeply, and almost insanely. However, Tabby knew it was hard for Emmy, when everyone else had romantic dates planned for the weekend, to sit at home and dream of Luke’s return. Of course, Tabby didn’t have any romantic dates planned for that night. In fact, it had been quite some time since she’d had a date at all.
“Me?” she answered, shrugging. “Nope. Just a quiet evening at home, I guess.”
“Me too,” Emmy sighed.
Tabby smiled at her friend. “Maybe we should have a quiet evening at home together,” she suggested. “We could watch a movie or something.”
“That’s right!” Emmy said. “Chloe’s still in Chicago, huh?”
In that moment, the lights in the dining area of the restaurant dimmed. Simultaneously, the white twinkle lights that bordered the small platform stage across the way lit up. Tabby hadn’t even noticed that all the chairs and tables on the entertainment side of the restaurant had been filled by more patrons. She was a little disappointed, for she’d hoped to get a seat in that section of the restaurant in order to enjoy a few minutes of entertainment before having to head back to work.
A Better Reason to Fall in Love Page 6