He grins. “You’re welcome.”
“I’m going to be late.”
“Stay. Just a bit longer. I’m sure you can fly out later this evening.”
I drag my hand down his arm; my fingers glide over the scars there. “Well, I am hungry.”
“I’ll order room service.”
“We might as well add another tray to our collection.”
“There’s that work ethic again.”
Chapter Seven
~Charly~
“You look like shit,” Gabby, my youngest sister, says as she leads Van and Kate into my shop just after opening the next day.
“I didn’t get much sleep,” I reply. That’s an understatement. I didn’t get any sleep. I just walked off the plane an hour ago.
“Well, we went to your place last night,” Van says. “But you weren’t home.”
“Do not tell me that you were with Ryan the second you got back to town,” Kate says.
“I wasn’t. But enough about me.” I rush to Kate and pull her in for a big hug. “Congratulations, sugar. I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you.” She grins and rests her hands on her still-small belly. “We didn’t think I could have kids you know.”
“Well, it just proves that miracles happen,” Gabby says then turns back to me. “So where were you last night?”
“Do you want the exact address?” I ask and turn away to pull shoes off the wall. I’m going to build a new display today.
“You texted me Friday night to say that you were going to stay in Montana for the weekend,” Van says and leans on my glass countertop.
“You’re going to leave prints on that,” I say.
“Answer the question,” Van says.
“You didn’t ask a question.”
“Why did you stay?” Kate asks.
“Who is he?” Gabby asks gleefully.
“It was a women’s retreat,” I remind them.
“They have guys that work for them,” Van says. “I’ve watched the videos and stuff.”
“You totally got laid recently,” Gabby adds.
“And her suitcase is back here!” Kate calls. I didn’t even see her walk into the stockroom.
She’s a sneaky one.
“Wait.” Van holds her hands up and stares at me with shocked eyes the same color as mine. “Simon. You hooked up with Simon.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You’re such a bad liar,” Gabby says with a laugh. “You totally did.”
“Maybe.”
“Oh. My. God!” Van rushes to me and grips my shoulders in her hands. “Spill it. I want to know all of it. When is he coming to visit?”
“Why would he come visit?”
“Duh. Because you hooked up.”
“Trust me, he’s not coming to New Orleans.” I shake my head and get back to work on the wall. “We had a good time. But it was just this weekend.”
“Spill it,” Kate says.
“I don’t want to tell you every detail,” I reply truthfully. “But he was awesome, and we had a good time. And now it’s over.”
“How did you leave things?” Gabby asks.
Awkward. Weird. Sad.
I stayed all night, agreeing to “change my flight” to super early this morning so I could squeeze every second I could in with him. And this morning, he walked me downstairs to the airport shuttle, hugged me close, kissed my forehead, and said, “Goodbye.”
“Well, can you call him if you want to?” Van asks.
“We didn’t exchange numbers,” I reply and shrug.
“Why not?” Kate asks.
“Because it was just for the weekend,” I remind them all. “There was no need to exchange numbers when we’re never going to see each other again.” Neither of us even brought it up, and I was fine with that.
I told myself I was fine with that.
“But what if you’re traveling and you’re in the neighborhood?” Gabby asks.
“Not. Seeing. Him. Again.” I throw my hands up and walk a circle around my shop. “You guys aren’t listening.”
“We hear the words,” Van says gently. “But your eyes are sad and you just look…sad.”
“I’m fine.” I grin and square my shoulders and make sure the sad is hidden well. “I learned a lot.”
“I want to hear about that stuff too,” Van says.
“You should go to one of the retreats,” I reply. “I think it would be good.”
“I’m going to sign up for later this fall,” she replies. “And maybe I can get his number for you.”
“You know what your problem is?” I ask as my door bell rings with an incoming customer. “Your problem is that you’re all too romantic. You think romance should just happen to everyone.”
“Nothin’ wrong with a little romance,” the customer says as she joins us in the salon. “Sorry, I overheard.”
“That’s okay,” I reply with a smile. “I’m Charly.”
“Mallory,” she replies and waves at all of us. “Mallory Adams.”
“Are you visiting?” Gabby asks.
“No, ma’am. I own the herb shop a few blocks over. I’ve been dying to stop in here. I need shoes for a wedding in a few weeks.”
“Is it the shop over by Jackson Square?” I ask.
“Yes’m.” Mallory is beautiful with blonde hair and green eyes, a curvy body. She’s not much taller than me.
“I’ve been in that shop!” Kate says excitedly. “I shopped in there when I lived above you for a few months. But you had long black hair then.”
“I remember now,” Mallory says. “Yeah, I like to change things up with my hair.”
“Well, I love your store.”
“Thank you. I wish I still had you living upstairs. The guy who moved in not long ago is a pain in my ass.”
“Really?” We all grin at her with delight. “What’s he like?”
“I’ve never actually seen him, but he’s constantly complaining. He’s gone most of the day, but in the evenings, if I’m processing new herbs and such, he calls down to complain about the smell. I mean, it’s an herb shop! What does he expect me to do?”
“Sounds horrible,” Gabby says and hides her mouth behind her hand to chuckle.
“And he’s always accusing me of making all kinds of noise in the middle of the night. I do sleep. It’s not my fault that the place is haunted.”
“Haunted?” Kate asks, swallowing hard. “It’s haunted?”
“Oh, for sure,” Mallory confirms.
“How do you know?” Gabby asks.
Mallory bites her lip and shrugs. “I’ve just heard things too.”
I don’t believe her.
We all look back and forth between each other.
“What am I missing?” Mallory asks.
“Nothing important,” I reply. “I think it’s my brother that’s living above you.”
“Nothing important?” she repeats and shakes her head. “I just basically called him a jackass right in front of you.”
“Well, Beau can be a jackass,” Gabby replies. “So it’s okay.”
“I lived in a haunted apartment,” Kate says, still stuck on the previous conversation.
“It’s okay, sugar, she’s not a bad ghost.” Mallory pats Kate’s shoulder. “Ah, you’re going to have a baby.”
“How do you know that?” Kate demands with wide green eyes. “I’ve only told my family.”
“I’m sorry,” Mallory says, but she smiles and pats Kate’s shoulder again. “I just know things sometimes. It’s going to be a beautiful baby. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
We’re silent for a moment, and then Kate breaks down into tears and hugs Mallory tight. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I want to hear more about the ghost,” Van says.
“Let’s talk about that while I show you some shoes,” I suggest, happy to have the focus off of me. “How does that sound?”
“So
unds great to me.” Mallory focuses on Savannah and her eyes are suddenly sad, but almost before it was there, it’s gone again and she smiles widely. “You’re an interesting group.”
“You have no idea,” Gabby says with a laugh.
***
“I can’t believe I let you set me up,” I say into my phone two weeks later.
“Who better to set you up than your brother?” Eli asks. “Your favorite brother.”
“We’ll see how you rank in brother status after this date,” I reply and smirk. “And seriously? His name is George? Is he ninety?”
“No, he’s thirty, and you can’t decide you don’t like a man based on his name.”
“Clearly you’ve never tried to date me before,” I say. “I could decide I don’t like him because his fingernails are too long.”
“Well, of course. That’s disgusting.” I hear Eli chuckle on the other end. “George is a good guy. Call me later and let me know how it goes.”
“Okay,” I reply with a sigh and hang up, check myself in the mirror, and decide that the purple dress with white accents is a good choice for a first date. It’s not too tight, but it’s flirty around the hem, floating around my knees.
And the lime-green heels make it perfect.
I smooth on some lip gloss and walk the few blocks from my house to a pretty café where George said he’d meet me for dinner. I haven’t been there in a while, but the last time I was there the atmosphere was casual and the food delicious.
When I turn the corner and the café comes into view, I’m not disappointed. It hasn’t changed. And standing on the sidewalk is a tall man in a suit. He has dark blond hair and blue eyes, not quite as blue as Simon’s.
Stop comparing every man you see to Simon!
“You must be Charly,” he says as he approaches. His smile is warm and when he takes my hand in his, he’s gentle.
“Guilty,” I reply. “George?”
“That’s me. I’ve heard good things about this place.”
“I like it,” I confirm and walk ahead of him inside. After we’ve been seated and ordered, he grins at me. “So how do you know Eli?”
“I work with him,” he says. “I am the head of his marketing department.”
“That’s interesting,” I reply, already encouraged by George. He’s handsome, has clean fingernails, and a great sense of style. “How did you get into that?”
“I was originally an art history major,” he replies with a laugh. “But I soon realized that appreciating art wasn’t going to bring home the bacon.”
“Enjoying art isn’t a bad thing,” I point out and smile at the waitress when she delivers our food.
“It is when you have an affection for old cars and love to travel,” he replies and stares down at his sandwich. “This is huge.”
“That’s what she said,” I reply immediately, and we both laugh. I like him, but he’s definitely not for me even though he’s a nice guy, and I’m enjoying myself.
“So tell me about your little store.”
My teeth clench at little store. “I own a shoe store in the Quarter called Head Over Heels.”
“My sister has told me about that store,” he replies and shoves some chips in his mouth. “She loves it in there.”
“I’m glad. I like it too. How do you get that much food in your mouth?”
I should be horrified, or at the very least insulted that his manners are so horrible, but all I can do is laugh. He’s funny.
“Talent,” he replies with a wink. “Sorry, I was hungry.”
“I have three brothers,” I remind him and shrug. “I’ve seen worse.”
“And this is just the first date. Just wait.”
Oh, I don’t think there will be a second date. He’s good looking, but my brain is screaming Abort, abort!
He’s not the one for me.
“How did you come to own a shoe shop?” he asks.
“I’m a shoe-whore,” I reply and lean over to slap him on the back when he coughs on his food, then he breaks down in laughter.
“I hear that acknowledging you have a problem is the first step.”
“Oh, I have a problem, and I don’t plan to ever fix it. I knew I didn’t want to go into the family business, and I love shopping. Few things beat the look in a woman’s eye when she finds a pair of shoes that she loves. Sometimes, it’s better than sex.”
“Really.” He sits back and smiles at me, but there is no spark in his blue eyes. “Well then, I’d say they weren’t having sex right.”
“Or the shoes are just amazing,” I counter and take a sip of my sweet tea. “That’s basically it. I just love shoes.”
“Not a bad reason to start a business, I guess.”
“I don’t think so either.” I push my plate away and order the peach cobbler when the waitress arrives.
“I’ll have the same,” George says.
“So tell me about your family,” I say, leaning on my elbow.
“I have two sisters,” he replies. “My mother passed when we were kids. Dad lives in Florida now in a retirement community. He loves it. Golfs all day, plays bridge in the evenings with friends. It works for him.”
“Are you close to your sisters?”
“Not really.” He shrugs, as if it doesn’t mean anything, and there’s just one more reason that he’s not the one for me. “We don’t not get along, but they have families of their own, and I don’t see them often.”
“I see.”
“But from what I can tell, you’re close with your family.”
“Very. I don’t know what I would do without them.”
George smiles and takes a bite of his cobbler and we fall into silence as we eat our dessert. Finally, when the dishes are cleared, he leans over and takes my hand, and I feel…nothing.
“You’re not really feeling this, are you?” he asks.
“I’m sorry, George. You’re a nice guy, and you’re handsome, but I just don’t think there’s any chemistry here.”
“Whew,” he says and leans back in his chair. “I feel the same. I’m glad you said it first. But I do like you.”
“I like you too, but it’s more of a friends thing for me.”
“Sounds good,” he replies with a decisive nod. “Just friends.”
“And just to be clear, not the friends with benefits kind of friends,” I add firmly.
He sits back again and studies me for a moment, then shakes his head.
“I don’t usually have sex with my friends.”
I cock a brow, not a little surprised. George is simply a nice, normal guy who’s grown out of the fuck-buddy phase.
“What are you thinking?” he asks with a smile. “You have a funny look on your face.”
“You’re like the Easter Bunny.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re just a nice guy. No gimmicks. No strings. An adult man who doesn’t have to sleep with a woman to be friends with her.”
“Okay.”
“I’ve never seen one of you in the wild,” I explain and smile when he bursts out laughing again. He has a great sense of humor.
“Your brothers seem to be the same.”
“Yes, but I wouldn’t consider dating my brothers.”
“Good plan.”
George reaches for the check.
“I can pay for mine.”
“Even if we’re not going to date again, I’ll still pay for this one.” He winks and passes his card to the waitress. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Boudreaux.”
“Likewise.”
***
It’s late and I can’t sleep. Rather than going to the shop after my date with George, I came home to get caught up on housework and filing. I would rather be in the Quarter, with the noise and activity always happening there. It’s too quiet in my house.
But that’s not why I can’t sleep. I’m too busy thinking about a certain sexy British motivational speaker.
I miss him. It’s really that simple.
And I’m sure that if I sent an email to Violet through the website, I could ask for his number, or ask her to pass along a message.
But why would I do that? Nothing long term can work out for us. The distance would kill me, and we said goodbye in Montana. Besides, if he wanted something more with me, wouldn’t he have tried to contact me by now?
No, I won’t humiliate myself by trying to contact him. We didn’t exchange numbers, and stalking him is just… desperate. I need to concentrate on forgetting him altogether.
And I definitely need to stop comparing every man I know to him. That’s just not fair, to them or to me.
My phone rings, making me jump.
“What’s wrong?” I ask immediately. “Is it Kate?”
“No,” Eli replies. His voice sounds tired. “I’ve been waiting up to hear from you.”
“Why?”
“Because you said you’d call.”
I pull the phone away from my head and stare at it for a second. “I’m almost thirty, Eli.”
“I know, but I set you up with this guy, so I want to know.”
“First of all, I’d like to remind you that you set me up with a man named George.”
“Is there a list somewhere I don’t know about full of names that you don’t like?”
“And second, you set me up with someone who works for you.”
“So? Half of New Orleans works for me.”
“And third, what kind of update did you want? Did you want to hear about the earth-shattering, chandelier-breaking sex we had?”
“Now you’re just trying to piss me off. I told him not to touch you.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and pray for more patience than I was born with.
“You set me up on a date, but told the guy he wasn’t allowed to touch me?”
“Of course. I’m your brother. Ben might have threatened him too.”
“Great.” I sigh and sit up in my bed. “Well, you’ll be happy to hear that he was a gentleman. He’s a nice guy, but there was no chemistry.”
“I see.”
“And Eli? Don’t try to set me up anymore. It’s too weird. What if you set me up with someone I actually want to have sex with, but he’s terrified of getting beat up? That’s not sexy.”
“I didn’t try to set you up with someone sexy,” he replies.
“Exactly. But I love you for trying.”
Easy Kisses Page 8