My Favorite Souvenir

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My Favorite Souvenir Page 11

by Ward, Penelope


  I watched Milo’s Adam’s apple bob up and down. “Like what?”

  “Maybe…we met because…” I laughed nervously. “This is probably stupid, but what if the reason we met wasn’t just to help each other move on, but because we’re supposed to be together?”

  My gaze caught with Milo’s, and we shared the most intimate moment. It felt like we were in a tunnel, just the two of us. I couldn’t see or hear anything but him.

  “I would love for that to be true. You’re an amazing woman, Maddie, on the inside and the outside, and I’m freaking crazy about you. But can you honestly tell me you didn’t think about your ex at all today?”

  The hopeful smile I’d been wearing wilted, and I shut my eyes. I shook my head. “I get it. I haven’t fully ended the last chapter of my life, so it’s not the right time to start writing a new story.”

  He nodded. “That doesn’t mean what you said isn’t true, though. Maybe we are supposed to be together. I think it’s very possible to meet the right person at the wrong time. In fact, that would be just my damn luck.” He looked away for a while and then turned back. “I have an idea.”

  “What?”

  “What if we book this hotel for three months from today? We’ll both go back home and fall into our lives. Ninety days from today, if you’re not thinking about him anymore, get your ass on a plane and meet me right here.” He tapped his hand on the couch. “Right here, just like tonight—except maybe without the green shit on our faces and a fuck of a lot less clothes.”

  I smiled and felt the mud mask on my face crack. “I love that idea.”

  “Good.” Milo reached out and weaved his fingers with mine. “Then we have a deal.”

  • • •

  The next morning, Milo was gone when I woke up. Panic came over me when I opened the bedroom door and found the living room empty. I walked around the room feeling really damn anxious until I saw his bag tucked away behind the couch. I let out a big sigh of relief and went to splash some water on my face to calm down. I’d just finished brushing my teeth in the bathroom when the sound of the door clanking open and closed in the other room caught my attention.

  “Milo?” I called.

  “Yes, dear.”

  I smiled and finished my morning routine. When I walked out, I found Milo with his feet propped up on the coffee table and a giant cup of coffee in his hand. He leaned forward and lifted a second cup. “For you, sis.”

  “Thank you.” I plopped down on the couch and tucked my legs underneath me. Peeling back the plastic tab on the cup, I said, “You were up early this morning.”

  He nodded. “I had a few things on my mind that I needed to get done.”

  I sipped. “Like what?”

  Milo pulled some folded-up papers out of his back pocket. “Well, for starters, I talked to the front desk about extending our room for another night. They said no problem. I also got us tickets to the hop-on-hop-off tour bus. You know the big, red double decker you see around town?”

  “Oh. Okay. That sounds like fun.”

  “I walked over to the tourism office a few blocks away and asked if they knew any good areas to take pictures. The woman I spoke to happened to be into photography as a hobby.” He unfolded a map. “She circled a bunch of places she thought you might like. Most of them are not too far from different stops along the bus-tour route.”

  “That was really thoughtful. Thank you. I can’t wait to check out the city some more. But what about you? If we’re doing an afternoon of photography for me, we should do something you like to do, too.”

  Milo wiggled his brows. “We’ll do that when we’re back here in three months.”

  I laughed. “I’m serious. This is both of our adventure.”

  “I did make some plans for me, too. On my way home from getting the coffees, I passed a bar that had a sign hanging in the window about an open mic night tonight. So I signed up.”

  “You’re going to sing again?”

  He smiled. “I am. As much as I enjoyed our duet, I think it’s time I got up there on my own. It’s been a long time coming.”

  I smiled. “You’re full of shit that you enjoyed our duet. But that’s okay. I’m excited you’re going to sing again. Sounds like you had a productive morning while my lazy ass was in bed.”

  “I made one other plan for us.”

  “What’s that?”

  He locked eyes with me. “I booked a room for us, three months from today.”

  My heart started to race. “Oh wow! That’s so exciting. What’s the date?”

  “You’re never going to believe it. I had to count ninety days from today three times to make sure I’d gotten it right.”

  “Why? What’s the date?”

  Milo deadpanned. “Valentine’s Day.”

  “Oh my God!” I clapped my hands together. “That’s totally perfect.”

  “I thought so, too. Unless of course you stand me up in three months. Then that would be just sad.”

  “Valentine’s Day. It’s...” I shook my head. “It’s…I don’t even have words for what it is.”

  Milo smiled sheepishly. “I do. Too damn far away.”

  • • •

  “If we get off in the Garden District…” Milo held up the city map he’d picked up this morning at the visitors’ center and pointed to an area. “The woman said there are a lot of places to take pictures. There’s a neighborhood with big, old Victorian mansions, and she said there are a few cemeteries people like to photograph in, too.”

  “Ooooh. That sounds good. I was looking at the welcome book in the hotel yesterday and saw some pictures of those mansions, and I love cemeteries.”

  After two more stops, we hopped off the bus and walked a few minutes through the Garden District. The area was gorgeous. Lots of ornate period homes with tall oak canopies draping over the streets and colorful hibiscus and crepe myrtle dotting manicured lawns. Some of the mansions had plaques outside, and the houses dated back almost two-hundred years. I could feel the history as we walked around.

  “When I was a kid, I wanted a Victorian dollhouse more than anything,” I said. “It was the first item at the top on my Christmas list from ages five to eleven.”

  “Oh yeah? Did you finally get one?”

  I shook my head. “My parents didn’t buy me large or fragile toys because we’d have to leave them behind when we moved. I mentioned it to my ex once, though, and he bought one of those kits to make me one. It was actually really sweet.”

  “He bought one of those kits? Did he build it for you?”

  “No. But I guess it’s the thought that counts.”

  Milo made a face. “Anyone can swipe their credit card to buy something, Mads.”

  “I know. But…” I shrugged. “Whatever.”

  I realized it had been dumb of me to bring up Brady. Yet again, I’d proven Milo’s point that I still thought about him. I guess I had three months to stop that from happening. A change of subject was definitely in order.

  Looking around at all the beautiful architecture had me wondering what type of lifestyle Milo led at home. “Do you live in an apartment building or a house back in Seattle?”

  “An apartment. It’s a two-story walk up.”

  “What does your living room look like?”

  Milo’s forehead wrinkled. “My living room? What do you mean? It’s square. Has a couch and some other furniture, I guess.”

  “What’s on the walls?”

  “On the walls?”

  “Yeah. Like, what kind of art do you have hanging?”

  He seemed to give it some thought. “I don’t have anything on the walls.”

  “Nothing at all? How come?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I never thought of my living there as permanent.”

  We stopped in front of a stunning Victorian home. The entire house was whitewashed in a soft yellow with tons of ornamental blue trim. An old man sat on a rocking chair on the wraparound porch.

 
; I waved and called to him. “Your home is beautiful. Would it be okay if I took some pictures of it?”

  “Help yourself. What’s the point of beauty if you don’t share it with others?”

  I smiled. “Thank you.”

  While I snapped pictures, Milo must’ve been doing some thinking.

  “What does your living room look like?” he asked.

  I finished shooting and lowered my lens. “The usual—a couch, love seat, coffee table, area rug, and sixty-eight framed photos of smiles on the wall.”

  Milo chuckled. “You have sixty-eight framed photos of smiles?”

  “I do.”

  “Not whole faces? Just smiles?”

  “Yup. They’re all black and white, and I cropped in on the smiles. Each one is framed in matte black.”

  “Who do the smiles belong to?”

  I shrugged. “All different people. Some adults, some kids. Mostly people I don’t know. I honestly don’t even remember what the rest of the face looks like on some of them. I took them over the last fifteen years at various places.”

  “Do you have a favorite?”

  “I do, actually.” I laughed. “How did you know that?”

  Milo flashed a crooked smile. “Just a hunch. What’s it look like? Your favorite smile, I mean.”

  “It’s a little girl I shot while on assignment years ago. I was covering a Jonas Brothers concert, during the first time they were popular. She must’ve been about five or six. When the concert started and the three brothers walked out on stage, she started to cry. She was really sobbing, yet she had the biggest smile on her face. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, but her smile was big enough to count all of her little teeth. I’ve never been so happy I cried like that, and I find the photo inspirational.” She sighed. “What about you? Have you ever cried and smiled at the same time?”

  We started walking again, and Milo shook his head. “Not that I can recall. What else is in your living room? Do you have any family pictures on display?”

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t.”

  “Growing up,” he said, “my parents always had a ton of family photos hanging on the wall.”

  “We didn’t have any. Oddly enough—since I’m a photographer—my parents weren’t big on taking photos. And they definitely didn’t decorate any of the places we rented. The house I’m in now is the first place I’ve ever lived that has any sort of personality.”

  “So, let me get this straight.” Milo rubbed his bottom lip with his thumb. “I grew up with family photos all over the place, and my walls are now bare because I don’t feel like where I am is permanent. And you, on the other hand, grew up with empty walls and have plastered your place with photos for the first time in your life. We were definitely in pretty different places a few months ago, huh?”

  I smiled sadly. “I guess so.”

  Milo stopped walking. “Hold up for a minute. Get your camera back out.”

  I looked around while unzipping my bag. We were still in the pretty Garden District, but I wasn’t sure what, in particular, I was supposed to be taking a picture of. “What am I photographing?”

  Milo dragged a hand through his hair and stood taller. “Me.”

  I laughed. “You?”

  “Yeah. I want to be on your wall.”

  I lifted my camera, still chuckling. “Okay, crazy man. Smile pretty.”

  He held up a hand up. “Wait. Give me a few seconds. I want to think of something good so you capture the right smile.”

  Milo looked away for a moment. Then he turned back and flashed the sexiest damn grin I’d ever seen. “I’m ready now.”

  “Do I even want to know what you’re thinking about with that devilish smile?”

  “Probably not. But I’ll tell you what, in ninety days, I’ll show you what I was thinking about.”

  Oh my.

  I snapped more pictures than necessary, glad to hide my blush behind the camera. “All done.”

  Milo winked. “That’s number sixty-nine.”

  I laughed. “I do currently have sixty-eight photos hanging, so I guess you’re correct.”

  He leaned down and kissed my cheek, then moved his mouth to my ear. “Wasn’t talking about the number of photos on your wall. That’s what I was thinking about when I smiled for your photo.”

  Chapter 12

  * * *

  Matteo

  I must be out of my damn mind.

  Maddie walked out from the bedroom wearing a bright green dress. It didn’t have a plunging neckline or almost show the cheeks of her ass, yet it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. She looked Drop. Dead. Gorgeous.

  Why did I keep telling this woman having sex wouldn’t be a good idea? At the moment, I was thinking there had never been a more brilliant plan in the world.

  I shook my head and blew out an audible, jagged breath. “You look...that dress… Wow, Mads, just wow.”

  She looked down, as if she had to remember what she had on. “Oh. Thank you.”

  “You ready? We should probably get going.” Because a man only has so much willpower.

  She picked up her purse. “I am. I’m excited to watch you sing. When we were up on stage together, it was kind of surreal, and I didn’t get to enjoy your performance fully. How many songs do you get to do?”

  “Usually it’s three songs or fifteen minutes, whichever comes first. But I didn’t ask the rules when I signed up this morning, so I’m not actually sure.”

  “Do you know what you’re going to sing?”

  “I have an idea, yeah.”

  She tilted her head. “Well, what are the songs?”

  I tucked my wallet into my back pocket. “I can’t tell you. It’s bad luck.”

  Of course I was full of shit and just made that up. But Maddie bought it.

  “Oh. Okay. Well, whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll love it.”

  Out on Bourbon Street, the nightly party seemed to have already started. The streets were filled with people drinking and different music blared from each bar we passed. When I caught the second guy checking Maddie out, I started to feel a little possessive and grabbed her hand.

  She looked over with a questioning face, though she didn’t try to pull away.

  “You’re attracting a lot of attention in that dress,” I explained. “Not that my holding your hand will keep ’em from looking, but it should prevent the drunk, aggressive assholes from approaching.”

  Maddie tilted her head with a coy smile. “What if I want to be approached?”

  “Approached by who?”

  She looked around. A big, muscular guy wearing a tank top and jeans leaned against a stool outside a bar. His hair was slicked back, and he had his arms folded across his enormous chest. He must’ve been the bouncer.

  “Him,” she said. “He’s not bad looking.”

  “You want that juice head to hit on you?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe.”

  I felt my blood pump faster at the thought. “What the hell for?”

  “Well, a woman has needs.”

  “And you want that guy to take care of those needs for you?”

  “Maybe not him. I don’t know. I’m just saying.”

  “Saying what?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. Forget I even said anything.”

  “Ummm… You just told me you might not want me to hold your hand so you can pick up some random guy off the street. Considering you’d be bringing him back to a room we’re currently sharing, I think forgetting might be a problem.”

  “Jeez. I was just teasing. Relax, Milo.”

  I scratched the day-old scruff on my chin. “Just teasing, huh?”

  Maddie nodded.

  “Alright.” I looked around. It didn’t take more than a few seconds to find a woman with a lot of skin showing. We were in the Big Easy, after all. Dropping Maddie’s hand, I said, “Do you mind if I go talk to that woman?”

  Maddie’s forehead wrinkled. “Who?”

  I
lifted my chin to point out the scantily clad blonde. She had double Ds, at least. “Her.”

  Maddie’s eyes narrowed. “Is that your type?”

  “Depends on what I’m shopping for.”

  Her lips pursed. “Well, maybe I should just go home if you’re out shopping.”

  I chuckled and grabbed her hand again. Tugging her close, I said, “Not a good feeling, is it? Thinking of me picking up some stranger?”

  She pouted. “No, it’s not.”

  “Good. Because I’d much prefer to hold your hand and go home and sleep on the couch than bring someone who isn’t you home with me anyway.”

  Maddie’s face softened. She leaned her head on my shoulder as we walked. “You know the right things to say to a woman.”

  I leaned down and kissed her forehead just as we arrived in front of the bar for open mic night. “This is the place.”

  A bunch of people were milling around out front smoking cigarettes…or weed. I was certain I smelled marijuana mixed in with the tobacco. One of them was Druker, the guy I’d signed up with this morning.

  He lifted his chin as I walked us over. “Hey, what’s up, man?”

  “Not much. Excited to get on stage tonight. I know you said there’d be a piano available to play, but any chance there’s a guitar laying around I could borrow for my set, too?”

  He tossed the remnants of a cigarette on the ground and covered it with his foot to put it out. “I’m sure I can rustle one up. You want acoustic or electric?”

  “Acoustic.”

  “Give me ten minutes.”

  “Awesome. Thanks.”

  Inside, Maddie and I found a booth off to the side of the stage.

  “So you’re going to play guitar, too?”

  “If they can find me one, yeah.”

  “Do you play any other instruments?”

  I smiled. “Well, I’m a music teacher, so I know how to play most of them. But guitar is my instrument of choice.”

  “I’ve always wanted to learn how to play.”

 

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