An Easy Dare

by Rosalie Rousseaux

  Gabe nodded, but he obviously still had his doubts. “Maybe I’ll go over to the Blue Note, just to be sure he doesn’t decide to take off for home.”

  “It’s fine, Gabe. Jules is on top of it. And it’s probably not a good idea for you to show your face over there, anyway.”

  “I don’t give a shit if it’s a good idea or not, I just don’t want—”

  “It’s okay. I promise. I’ll be fine.” I smiled. “The only thing that can get me in trouble over there is the bottle of high-priced whiskey Cort’s got on the top shelf.”

  Or so I thought.

  -25-

  No matter what kind of direction a break-up takes or what kind of secrets are revealed at the end, there is still an uncomfortable feeling of failure. I had heard this from friends before, but never expected to feel this way. It wasn’t just because my relationship with Cort had failed. More like it had never really started. These were the thoughts I had when I got out of Anna’s car and stood outside the door of my old house.

  “Are you sure you don’t need any more boxes?” Anna asked, holding the two flimsy boxes we’d strung along. “You barely have enough to really bring anything.”

  “I barely brought anything. I don’t want to take anything that I didn’t bring to this place myself. Mostly I just want my drawings.”

  I had to rattle my key in the gate to get it open, but when we got in I immediately heard someone moving around. I motioned to Anna to shhh and hoped it wasn’t Cort around the corner. It couldn’t have been, though. We’d just talked to Jules and he told us Cort was in his office.

  “Oh, hello, girls,” Delilah said as we entered the kitchen. She lifted a Sherman cigarette to her lips. “Cat, I hope you don’t mind that I helped myself to a martini.” She nodded toward her chilled martini glass. “Wait, of course you don’t mind—you don’t live here anymore.” She smiled. “I had a feeling you would be coming by to pick up your little things with your friend Hannah here. I figured I’d stick around, make sure you didn’t swipe any of the silver.”

  She always did this sort of thing. She knew Anna’s name; we had all known each other since before we could speak in complete sentences. My anger started to rise and spread across my face. I didn’t have to put up with this. I wanted her out.

  But this wasn’t exactly my house anymore.

  “Come on Delilah, you’ve known my name since we were, like, four. If you don’t cut it out I’m gonna start calling you Deli again. You big ham,” Anna said.

  I inhaled sharply. “Listen, Delilah—”

  “Oh Cat, calm down. I need to stop goading you. I’m actually thrilled with you and the rest of your lot right now, but with you especially. I couldn’t be happier about my brother’s current condition. He deserves everything he gets. I’m glad that you have finally seen him for the dog that he is. I knew it wouldn’t take long once Gabriel Augustine rolled back into town. It sure doesn’t hurt that he’s a hottie now. Not quite the poor white trash I remember.”

  “Let’s just get your shit, Cat,” Anna grumbled. “This is so not worth our time.”

  “She’s right,” Delilah said, tipping back her martini and putting it back on the counter. “There’s no point in us fighting, girls. We’re all on the same team. Besides, you bailing on my brother for Gabe is going to be wonderful for business. I’ve hired a publicist and she said this will bring the wannabes out in droves. We’re thinking of planting some sort of clue in the society pages to fuel the rumors. It’ll be phenomenal for the opening night of Bells. No one over spends more foolishly than the wannabes. Oh, and the tourists! This is going to be amazing.”

  I fumed. My hands trembled. I couldn’t believe Gabe actually went into business with this trite bitch.

  “Alright, Delilah, you’ve had your fun,” I said. “We just want to get my things quickly and get out of here. I really don’t want to take the chance of having another run-in with Cort and you don’t have to worry about me taking any of the Belrose bullshit, including the things your brother gave me. I don’t want any of it or anything having to do with him. I wish I could erase the day that I ever became a Belrose. So if you don’t mind, Anna and I are going to go pack my things so we can be on our way.”

  Delilah rolled her eyes at Anna and then looked directly at me. “Listen Cat, our petty differences aside, I meant what I said about being on the same team now. Regardless of our personal feelings, we have similar goals and there’s no reason why we shouldn’t help each other. I hate how women get in each other’s way. Did you know that male crabs will work together to help each other climb out of a boiling pot, but females will fight and pull one another other down into the water? I’ve seen it happen in the kitchen of the Crescent too many times and it doesn’t stop with crabs. We don’t have to like each other, but there is no reason why we can’t all play well together.”

  “It figures you’d know all about crabs,” Anna said.

  Delilah ignored her and continued, “My uncle is an idiot, but Gabe isn’t. He’s a valuable business partner and that’s all it is, Cat. I don’t want his mind muddled, so I have no intention of wasting my time playing games with you and I don’t want to see my brother win any more in any way. Believe me, Cat, when I tell you that he is the sorest loser I have ever known. Winning is everything to him and right now he is humiliated. This is so not over. Regardless, don’t forget what I said. We’re on the same team.” Delilah extinguished her brown cigarette and reached to shake my hand. I accepted reluctantly, mostly because I wanted her little speech to be over so we could get the hell out of there.

  She smiled after we shook. “I guess I’ll see you both at the pre-launch party in two weeks. You know how to reach me if you need me.” She winked and sashayed out the front door.

  “Same team, my ass,” Anna mumbled. “Let’s get your stuff. Where’s this box of old sketchbooks?”

  “The attic.” We walked down the hallway to the attic door, where Anna paused.

  “This house is pretty old. You don’t have a ghost or anything up there, do you?” she asked. “Like some evil little twins or a woman who hanged herself from one of the rafters or something?”

  “No. It’s not even creepy. It’s got air conditioning.”

  “Jesus. The things money can buy.” She opened the door and told me to get the piece while she got the box. “The faster we’re outta here, the better. What’s the box look like?”

  “You can’t miss it. It’s in the corner just off the stairs. It’s the only fireproof box up there.”

  She was already halfway up the stairs. “Got it.”

  I walked back through the house. There was no sign that it’d been trashed except that the nightstand had been cleared and there was no sign of my sketchbook. There was no sign of my willow tree piece, either. I searched the guest bedroom—in the closet, under the bed, behind the dresser. I was close to panic when I heard Anna call my name. Her voice was so shrill that I wondered if she actually had found a ghost, but when I got up there, she was standing over the opened fireproof box and looking at me with wide, pitiful eyes.

  When I looked into the box, I saw why.

  All my sketchbooks—from the one I carried under my arm as a little girl in a ponytail to the one I’d left on the nightstand—had been burned to shards of blackened ash and shoved back into the box. Burning it and putting it inside a box that was meant to protect it from being burned was Cort’s way of being clever.

  “I’m so sorry, Cat,” Anna said. She nodded to the opposite wall.

  That’s when I saw my willow tree piece.

  Stripped, torn, and useless.

  Sliced through its center.

  My work had been reduced to splotches of dried glue.

  Don’t cry, Cat. Don’t let him make you cry.

  “Maybe you can save something from the box,” Anna said, quietly. “Not everything burned all the way. See?”

  Through the papery ash I saw a scrap of a recent sketch, one I’d done of Cort on our wa
y to Martinique. His eyes were still intact. They looked back at me. Laughing.

  -26-

  I’ve only been with two men in my life, so I don’t have much comparison, but every time Gabe and I made love, I felt like we were created for each other. Every time he was inside me, it seemed that our bodies fit perfectly together, like two puzzle pieces that needed to join together in order to make any sense. My body opened itself to him with each thrust deep within me. Not just my body, but my heart and soul, too. And now that we had made love again after all these years, I didn’t want it to stop. I never wanted it to stop. I shuddered every time he came and he kissed me every time I did. Our bodies starved for each other and during those weeks from when I left Cort and the scheduled pre-launch party for Bells, it was never enough just to make love in the heat of the sunroom or the comfort of his four-poster bed. We took advantage of the many rooms of the Augustine house—the couch, where he leaned me on the armrest and took me from behind; the expensive rugs in his den and study, which rubbed burns on my knees; the expansive standing shower and luxury bathtub. But the foyer got the most attention. It was the first step through the door and we usually couldn’t wait to take each other’s clothes off and kiss and touch and love each other like we had no worries in the world, nothing except our passion.

  It was easy to forget. Cort had not called a single time. He didn’t show up at Anna’s house once looking for me. There was no word at all from him, although I knew he was still around because Jules told us he was still coming to work. Business as usual.

  I’d already had two meetings with an attorney, a burly man named Keith Strickland, who said there wasn’t much Cort could do to me legally, since he was the one who had committed adultery during our short marriage and I wasn’t asking for any money or property. I assumed Cort had received papers or some kind of notice from the office of Strickland-Robichaux, but if he had, he was being quiet about it. I would have allowed myself to bask in my good fortune if I didn’t have the words of Lady Angelique, Uncle Jacks and Delilah ringing in my head, one telling me that there would be a calm before the storm and the others reminding me that Cort didn’t take humiliation well.

  It was strange that I hadn’t heard from Cort, but even stranger that I hadn’t heard from my father since the one unanswered phone call. Then again, I’d never bothered to call back. I felt guilty at having left things unresolved, at least for now, but not guilty enough to make that call. A large part of me blamed him for my short-lived marriage, even though I was the one who said I do.

  “You shouldn’t blame him,” Gabe said, the night before the pre-launch party, as we lay sweaty and exhausted in his bed. A dozen high-end sketchbooks and pencils were stacked nearby on the floor, purchased by Gabe less than an hour after he found out that my others had been destroyed. “He just wants what’s best for everyone.”

  “Yeah, especially himself.”

  “Your dad looked out for me when I was a kid.”

  “Yes, and helped get you out of the city, even if he didn’t know it, by encouraging Cort.”

  There was something unsaid between us. I felt it lingering in the air. He encouraged Cort, but you’re the one who said yes.

  Gabe sighed. “Let’s not talk about those things right now.” He turned on his side and looked at me. His body was damp with sweat. “Once everything blows over, I’ll go by and see him. I’ll take care of it all. His debts, everything. He won’t have to owe the Belrose family anymore. I don’t know why he’s so indebted to them to begin with.”

  “He owes money to—”

  “I know. But all they need is a payoff and they disappear. Marty knows I’d take care of everything. He knows I have the money now. But he’s still loyal to the Belroses. Have you ever wondered why?”

  Of course I had. But I always assumed it was because they had money, we didn’t, and he had high hopes for himself and his only daughter.

  Gabe rubbed my forehead with his thumb. He always said he could tell when I was worried because I got a line in my forehead, right above my right eyebrow. When he rubbed his thumb there, it was as if he wanted to rub my worries away.

  “Don’t worry, Cat.” He smiled. “I’ll talk to him. Maybe we’ll see him at the pre-launch. I invited him weeks ago. I’ll call him tomorrow and tell him it’d mean a lot to me if he stopped by.”

  I thought about the party, the guests, and every word Delilah said. “Do you think it’s a good idea that I go?” I said. “I’m still not sure it would look right.”

  “I want you there, and that’s all that matters. You show up with Anna at eight o’clock. We’ll be on our best behavior at the party. No fucking on the tabletops or anything.”

  I grinned. Naughty. “What about afterwards?”

  He grinned back. “What about now?”

  “Sooner is better than later,” I said. Then I kissed him and pulled him on top of me so I could open myself to him again. And again. And again.

  -27-

  Bells wasn’t a dive bar anymore. There was a new sign out front—Bell of Bienville, it read brightly—and new floors, tables, chairs, menus (offering everything from Oysters Rockefeller and crawfish etouffee to Chilean sea bass), glasses, windows, everything. There wasn’t an inch of the place that resembled anything from before except the old, crappy wooden sign that had dangled in front of French Quarter revelers for decades. It simply said Bells, and it now hung proudly over a small stage, where a Dixieland jazz band played lightly as some of the most important people in New Orleans chewed on appetizers and clinked wine glasses, wearing suits and dresses and million-dollar smiles. Anna and I showed up around nine, dressed to impress. She made a beeline for the open bar and ordered dirty martinis for both of us. No sweet drink tonight, she explained.

  “We’ve got to blend with the rich folk,” she said, taking a small sip. “Especially since you’re the harlot now.”

  I playfully nudged her while balancing my drink in my hand. “You’re a fine one to talk.”

  “I know I’m a harlot, but these people don’t,” she said. “See any cute rich men I can devour?”

  “Not any that Delilah hasn’t gotten to first.”

  As usual, Delilah swept through the room and stopped at every hot bachelor. She floated through such an air of perpetual sensuality that I wondered—not for the first time—if Gabe had ever wondered what she looked like under those designer dresses.

  I downed half my drink.

  “As much as I hate that bitch, I know when I’ve been beat,” Anna said. “She’s rich, gorgeous and a freak in bed and I’m only two out of three.”

  “How do you know Delilah’s a ‘freak in bed’?”

  “The restaurant biz is a small world. Don’t you remember?”

  “I’m sure I’ll remember soon enough. Not that I’ll be able to find a job after this.”

  “Get serious,” Anna said. “Gabe will take care of you for the rest of your life. You’ll never have to wait a table as long as you live.”

  “Maybe I want to.”

  “Why would you ever want to wait tables?”

  “Maybe I’ll go to art school. It’s time to do something for myself.”

  Thinking of this, I studied the walls, wondering what kind of work I’d create for Bells’ grand opening, but instead of seeing potential places to hang my pieces, I caught the eyes and whispers of familiar faces in the crowd. People who were part of Cort’s world, not mine. People like Roland and Maria Delahousse. Cort and I had dinner with them once. Cort shot looks at Maria’s cleavage that night when he thought no one was looking. No one but Maria, that is. When she caught him staring, she smiled at him—just for a second—and he smiled back.

  There were others, too, who made sure to side-glance my way. Joseph and Paulette Ardoin, who were part of the underground New Orleans swinger scene, even though they thought no one else knew; Miguel Barrios, who had sex with his wife’s sister for two years before she married and moved to San Francisco—his wife Nichole still had
no idea; Charlie and Elle Laplanche, who each had sex with different employees at their home (Charlie, with the babysitter; Elle, with the female housekeeper); and, of course, Delilah.

  All of these people had their own scandals, but still stood there judging me. I wondered how much they knew about what happened with Cort. I wondered if they knew what he’d done to Helene, or if they only judged me and Gabe. Only they wouldn’t judge Gabe. He was a man with money, after all, and he wasn’t the one who’d been married. No, in this scenario, I was a whore surrounded by saints.

  I breathed deep. This was going to be a long night if I noticed every look and whisper.

  I finished off my drink and immediately felt tipsy.

  “I’ll get us another,” Anna said. She took my empty glass and walked back to the open bar just as Gabe approached, looking as delicious as ever.

  “Having fun, Miss Martel?”

  Miss Martel. I loved hearing my own name again. Being called Mrs. Belrose always felt wrong.

  “I am now,” I said.

  “Why’re you standing back here? Feeling anti-social?” He winked and reached for my hand. “Come join the crowd. Watch what a networker I’ve become.”

  I crossed my arms. “I’ll stay here for a bit. Anna’s coming back with drinks.”

  Gabe glanced over his shoulder at the milling crowd of suits, dresses and jazz. “Don’t worry about them. No one in that group has room to judge. Half of them are drunk already anyway. I’ve got the drinks flowing like water.”

  “Where’s yours, then?”

  He tapped his forehead. “Not drinking tonight. Gotta keep my head straight. A lot of these people are financing this place.”

  “It looks amazing, by the way.”

  Anna reappeared with two fresh drinks. She handed one of them to me and said, “Well, Gabriel Augustine, this is quite the showing. You’ve got all kinds of money trudging through this place. Congrats. It looks fantastic. You’re quite the businessman now. You’re like the Great fucking Gatsby.” She raised her glass.