Fighting Fire (Finding Focus Book 3)

by Jiffy Kate

  “Drive safe,” I instruct. “And text me when you’re leavin’ French Settlement.”

  “Okay,” she agrees, knowing that it’s just gonna be like this. I’m going to worry and I’m going to be over-protective. There’s no getting around it. It’s my job.

  I piddle around the restaurant, occupying my time while I wait for Dani and Cami. This will be Cami’s first time to see the restaurant and Dani hasn’t been here since we installed the ceiling fans and the bar light fixtures. I feel like a kid on Christmas, waiting for them.

  Deacon is the one person who I’m nervous about. It’s his opinion that’ll mean the most. Of course, I want Dani to love it, but she already does, and I know my parents will be supportive, regardless. I could be opening a corn dog stand and they’d gush about it. But Deacon is different—he knows good restaurants. He knows what it takes to build one and operate one. He’s taught me everything I know and I want him to love it.

  And if he doesn’t, I want to hear that too. I think I’m finally at a spot where I could accept his constructive criticism. I know he means well and I know, no matter what he says, it comes from a good place. Those are some things I’ve come to realize over the past few months.

  So, I’m ready. I’m ready to introduce Lagniappe to the rest of my family and eventually to New Orleans. Being on the verge of a new adventure is one of the best feelings—so much anticipation, so much possibility—and there’s that fear of failure, too. But I think that’s what keeps you going. It makes you work harder, hustle harder.

  As I’m straightening a table for the umpteenth time, I spot a dash of red hair through a window in front of the restaurant. Walking over to it, I watch her—the way she positions the camera just so, the way she takes a step back to get a different view. She’s amazing, and she’s mine.

  When she sees me watching, she smiles and waves and then quickly brings her camera up to take a picture of me through the window. I let her for a few seconds, before ruining them with lewd gestures.

  Unlocking the front door, I swing it open and greet my first two customers. “Ladies,” I say with a dip of my head, sweeping my arm out to show them inside. “Interested in a little somethin’ extra?”

  “You sure you shouldn’t open this place on Bourbon?” Cami asks with a wicked grin. “Sounds like you’re peddlin’ the goods.”

  “Well,” I drawl. “I had thought about some dancin’ girls.”

  Dani rolls her eyes and slaps me on my chest playfully. “No dancin’ girls.”

  “Wow, Micah,” Cami states. “This place is . . . wow.”

  Cami has been around for all of mine and Deacon’s grand openings, so hearing her say that makes me incredibly happy.

  “You think?” I ask, looking out over the restaurant.

  “Oh, definitely. Deke is gonna flip his shit,” she laughs. “This is incredible. You’ve done an amazing job. And I hear congratulations are in order?”

  “Yep, as of this morning Alex is out of the picture,” I confirm with a nod of my head.

  Dani abandons us at the door and goes about her business, snapping pictures of everything—wide shots, close-ups. She gets the tables, the bar, the light fixtures, and she really goes in for some shots of the fans. “These are fantastic,” she says with the camera pointed up at the ceiling. “Can we get these for the cottage?”

  “We can get anything you want for the cottage,” I tell her, loving that she’s even mentioning the cottage. It’s where I want to live. It’s where I want us to make our home—across the field from my parents and down a beaten path from where Cami and Deacon and the kids will live soon.

  I want all of that, not just the cottage and being close to my family, but the kids, too.

  “The painting is in the back of Deke’s truck,” she says motioning toward the door. “Tucker loaded it up for us.”

  “Thank you so much for doin’ it for me. I can’t wait to see it.” I already had Randy, being the handyman that he is—all-around jack of all trades—hang some screws on wall in the back. It’s going to be perfect.

  “It was fun. I haven’t done a painting on that scale in a long time,” she sighs, rubbing her small stomach.

  “So, are we gonna get to find out what’s cookin’ in there?” I ask. “You’re at least far enough along for that, right?”

  Cami smiles over at me, shaking her head. “I’m far enough along, almost in my third trimester, but we’re keepin’ it a secret. Doesn’t really matter anyway,” she says with a shrug.

  “You’re right,” I agree. “It doesn’t, as long as it’s healthy and knows who its favorite uncle is.”

  “God,” she groans. “Not you too. Tucker was even talkin’ to my belly the other day.”

  “What?” I exclaim. “That cheatin’ ba—”

  “Language,” Cami says with a grin, covering both sides of her stomach with her hands.

  “Right, sorry.” I love seeing her so happy and I love how happy she makes my brother. Cami has always been a big part of my life and our family. The only thing different is that she now has the last name to prove it.

  Leaving Cami and Dani to look over the place, I head out to the truck and haul in the painting. It’s kinda heavy, but since the screws are already in place, I should be able to get it set without a problem.

  It’s wrapped in thick brown paper, so I lean it against the wall and unwrap it, smiling when I catch a glimpse of just the top half. It’s perfect, exactly what I wanted and exactly what this place needs to bring everything together.

  “Need some help with that?” Randy waltzes in at the perfect time and I check my watch.

  “You weren’t supposed to be here until three, it’s not even noon.”

  “Couldn’t stay away, I’ve got the openin’ day jitters,” he admits.

  I laugh, giving him a nod of understanding. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. I’ve got some good news.”

  Nobody around here was a fan of Alex, but what I’m about to tell Randy is going to make his whole damn day. “As of a few hours ago, Alex Collins will no longer be signin’ your paycheck.”

  It takes a second for it to sink in, but when it does, a smile wider than the Mississippi spreads across Randy’s face. “You bought her out?”

  “I did. Me and Mr. Wells.”

  “Alright,” Randy says, nodding his head. “Now, that’s what I’m talking about. I feel like I owe you a drink or something.”

  “How about you just make yourself useful and help me get this beast on the wall.”

  “I hope I got the screws in the right place,” he says, picking up one side of the canvas while I get the other.

  “Looks like it’s just about perfect.”

  When we have it firmly anchored on the wall, we both step back and admire the work of art. And it is a work of art. Cami put her own unique touch on it, giving it a little something extra. A little lagniappe, if you will.

  “That’s gorgeous, man,” Randy says. “Exactly like I remember it.”

  “Yep, I mean, it doesn’t get much better. A photograph by Sheridan Reed of the Landry Plantation, turned into a painting by Cami Benoit. I feel like we’ll be name droppin’ when we tell people who ask.”

  The girls both laugh, shaking their heads, but it’s true.

  “Back up,” Dani says. “I wanna get a picture.”

  After Dani is finished with the photo session, forcing me into more pictures than I’d like, I treat her and Cami to a light lunch down the street. Randy offered to cook, but I know he’s busy getting the kitchen prepped, so we got out of his hair for a while. Besides, I needed to get out and pass some time, before I paced a hole in the floor.

  When we’ve occupied the small table at the corner cafe long enough, Cami talks us into walking across Jackson Square. She leads us into a small shop, one of those grocery-cafe-coffee shop kind of places, offering a little bit of everything.

  “Cami,” the lady behind the counter says in dismay. “What the hell are you doin’ here? G
et over here and give me a hug.”

  The two hug like old friends and I think the lady is gonna piss herself when she notices the bump. “Oh, my God! You’re pregnant?”

  “Yep,” Cami says proudly. “Due in just a few months.”

  “Congratulations! I’m so happy for you. And Deacon, how’s he?”

  “Good,” Cami says with a nod. “You’ll probably be seein’ more of us. This is my brother-in-law, Micah, and his girlfriend, Dani,” she says, pointing to us. “Micah just opened a restaurant around the corner.”

  “Lagniappe?” she asks wide-eyed.

  “Yeah,” I tell her, smiling at the fact that someone’s heard of my restaurant. Someone other than family.

  “I’ll have to come try it out,” she says.

  “Definitely.”

  “Oh, sorry,” Cami says with a slap on her forehead. “Pregnancy zaps my manners. Micah . . . Dani, this is Ce-Ce. We met while I was in school. Been friends ever since.”

  “I have a Cami Benoit original,” Ce-Ce touts, pointing to a painting behind the counter. “Signed and everything.”

  We laugh and Cami shakes her head. She’s another one who doesn’t realize just how talented she really is, never wanting the spotlight on her.

  “Well, we better get some coffees and head back. Micah’s soft opening is tonight,” Cami mentions, scanning the menu. “I’ll take whatever you have that’s decaf, as long as it’s sweet.”

  “You got it, Mama,” Ce-Ce says, turning to the antique looking espresso machine and getting to work. “Congrats on the opening, Micah. I really will come check it out soon.”

  “Please do. I’ll give you the friends and family discount,” I tell her with a smile.

  “Maybe we can barter with coffee?” she asks, holding up a cup.

  “We can definitely work a deal.” She’s speaking my language.

  After we get our drinks and walk back, the opening is less than an hour away and my nerves are back in full swing. Dani and I set half the tables with water glasses and silverware, while Cami organizes a side table with the cake we had made for tonight. We’re all keeping ourselves busy until the first person shows up.

  A few seconds later, the old-fashioned bell I had installed chimes.

  “Where’s my somethin’ extra?” Deacon booms.

  AFTER MY BROTHER’S BOISTEROUS ENTRANCE, his mouth drops and I know, from that knee-jerk reaction, that he’s impressed. He and I have critiqued many restaurants over the years. It’s our business, so we’re always looking for fresh ideas, and also know a dud when we see one. But that’s not what he’s seeing now.

  “Damn, Micah.” Deacon whistles, his eyes never stopping as they scan the space. “This is impressive. Show me the kitchen.”

  I smile, slapping him on the shoulder, because with those four words, I know he’s hooked. The kitchen is the heart of any establishment—be it a home or a restaurant. He and I both know that’s where the magic happens and that you can tell a lot about the quality of a place by how the kitchen looks.

  Anxiously, I walk him past the bar and through the double doors. Randy is busy at the prep station and his eyes grow wide when he sees Deke step through the doors.

  “Randy, my man,” Deacon says, walking around to pat him vigorously on the shoulder. “I’d shake your hand, but I see you’re busy. Can’t believe you sold out and came to work for Micah.”

  “Well, the offer was right.” Randy winks at me and I nod.

  Standing back, I let Deacon inspect. He checks the stoves, the grill . . . looks at the large walk-in refrigerator and even turns the water on in the huge, over-sized sinks I had installed.

  “We gotta get us one of these for Pockets,” he says, pointing to the stainless steel, industrial style table in the center of the room. I thought it was a nice addition, a central location for everything from plating food to pouring drinks. It also gave us a place for the overhead rack that holds all of the pots and pans.

  “That’s what I was thinkin’. Joe would love it.”

  “Yeah, he would. Shit, I’d love it. It’s a great space, flows freely, and everything is laid out perfectly.” He continues admiring and nodding his approval.

  As he does, my chest feels tight. I wanted this. I wanted it so bad. I wish there was a way I could’ve gotten to this point without all the shit we’ve been through, but sometimes, you have to take the long way around. Regardless, here we are, on the other side of the flame, hopefully stronger than before.

  Eventually, my parents show up and my mama falls in love with everything. She practically cries when she sees the painting and can’t stop hugging me, telling me how proud she is of me. My dad is too. He’s not as gushy about it, but he’s proud, maybe more so of the fact that Deacon and I have worked things out, but he’s happy about the restaurant too.

  The place starts to really fill up, as some of our employees from Pockets and Grinders come and a few people my parents know who live in town. At some point, Tucker arrives. I didn’t see him come in the door, but I don’t miss him and Piper having a stare-off from across the room.

  Those two really need to just fuck and get it over with or kiss and makeup. I have no idea what’s going on, but I know something is. When it’s not the opening night of my first solo restaurant and all around biggest night of my life, I’m going to get to the bottom of it.

  I hug and kiss more people than I can shake a stick at, and promptly at seven o’clock, Randy announces that dinner is ready. We’re not offering a full menu tonight, but rather a sampling of our signature dishes.

  “This is wonderful,” my mama says as she takes a bite of grits with fried crawfish, bacon, crispy jalapenos and a drizzle of honey balsamic. There’s a lot going on there, the bacon and the crispy jalapenos are the lagniappe, something Randy and I came up with. We weren’t sure the ingredients would all work together, but they do.

  Everyone is so busy feeding their faces, that hardly any conversation is taking place, and I couldn’t be happier about it. Randy and I watch from the kitchen doors, feeling an immense wave of satisfaction with each mmmm and ahhhhh.

  I decide now’s the time for the real lagniappe. Something I’ve had planned for a week or so. Surprisingly enough, I’m not even nervous.

  Walking to the bar, I pick up a glass and tap the side with a butter knife, gaining everyone’s attention.

  “Hey,” I say with a smile, when everyone turns in their seat. “Thanks so much for comin’ tonight. This place is a dream come true for me, but there’s no way I’d be able to enjoy it without all of y’all. What’s success without people to share it with, right?”

  “Here, here,” my dad says, raising his glass.

  I give him a smile, raising my hands to let him know I’m not quite finished.

  “I, uh,” I pause for a second, the first set of jitters hitting my stomach, but looking over at Dani, I immediately relax. “I found someone I want to share every success with.” I nod as her eyes grow wide. “I actually want to share everything with her—every bad day, every morning kiss, every curveball life throws our way. I want it all.”

  She’s sniffling now, but that’s alright, because I’m working hard to keep it together myself.

  “Sheridan Reed, I’ve known that I love you for quite some time now, but I didn’t realize how much until recently. I’ve known that I want to spend the rest of my life with you for a while, but didn’t realize how bad until a few weeks ago.” I pause, trying to think of how to put into words how I’m feeling and as I do, I catch a glimpse of my mama and she’s now crying too.

  “It’s a scary feeling when you realize you love someone so much you’d gladly take a bullet for them . . . or jump in the path of a speeding train . . . anything to ensure their happiness. That’s how much I love you, Dani. And I want to spend the rest of my life showin’ you.”

  Taking the ring out of my pocket, I walk over and kneel down in front of her chair.

  “Marry me, please.”

  Dani looks
down at the ring, biting down on her bottom lip, and then back up at me. Her hand comes up and cups my cheek, brushing away a tear I let slip. Without saying a word or even nodding her head, she leans down and kisses me hard, breathing deeply as she pulls away.

  “Yes,” she finally says. “I’ll marry you, Micah Landry.”

  The entire place erupts. Everything’s a blur as I slide the ring on Dani’s finger and stand, picking her up and crushing her to me. “Thank you,” I whisper, just for her.

  “Thanks for asking,” she says equally as quiet. Later, when it’s just the two of us, I’ll show her how much this means to me and I’ll give her a taste of what forever looks like, but for now, I kiss her chastely and put her down. My mama, Piper, and Cami are all scrambling to get to her.

  They need to see the ring, of course.

  “Finally got your head outta your ass,” Tucker says, coming up and slapping me on my shoulder.

  “You did good,” Deacon says from my other side, clearing his throat as he looks away. “Real good.”

  “You pansy-ass mother fucker,” Tucker moans. “Are you cryin’?”

  “No, I got somethin’ in my eye.”

  When there’s a break in the action around Dani, Deacon goes in for a hug, twirling her around and making her squeal with delight.

  This is perfect.

  It’s everything I dreamed it would be, and so much more.

  THE END

  JIFFY KATE IS THE JOINT pen name for Jiff Simpson and Jenny Kate Altman.

  Jiff was born and raised in Louisiana. She’s now living in Texas with her two teenagers and two bulldogs, Georgia Rose and Jake. She spends her days enabling people’s LulaRoe addictions. Don’t worry, it’s not illegal.

  Jenny Kate was born and raised in Oklahoma where she lives with her husband, teenager, and two high-maintenance Cavalier King Charles Spaniels, Wrigley and Oliver. She’s a coffee-obsessed accounting assistant, who wishes she had an endless supply of money and vacation days.

  Some people think they’ve been friends forever, but they’ve only known each other about six years. Kindred spirits and all that. After their first “date”, they knew it was fate. Five years ago, they started writing their first story and they haven’t stopped.