Labor of Love (2 page)

“O
hmigod, that's your guy!” Jenna whispered excitedly.

It couldn't be. It just couldn't be.

I was trying not to hyperventilate, trying not to lose it. There were probably a hundred guys in the city wearing that hat. Maybe a Kansas City Chiefs' fanatics convention was going on. Or a preseason game. Was it time for preseason games yet?

I shook my head fast. “No, he's not.”

Amber leaned across the table and said in a low voice, “Is anyone else totally freaking out here?”

“Don't you think he's her guy?” Jenna asked.

“Well, yeah! Absolutely.”

“It's just coincidence.” I sounded breathless. My heart was pounding hard.

“I'd buy into that if he was wearing a Saints hat. But Kansas City? Why would he be wearing that?” Jenna asked.

“Maybe he's from Kansas City.”

“But what are the odds—”

“Look, people visit here from all over. Saraphina probably saw him at some point, and he stayed on her mind and when she was tapping into things, she tapped into her own memory, not my future.”

That was the logical explanation, and I liked logical.

“He'd sure stay on my mind,” Amber said. “He's totally hot.”

Her brown eyes widened. “Oh gosh, don't tell Chad I noticed another guy. He would so not understand.”

“You don't think guys with girlfriends notice other girls?” Jenna asked.

“Once you're with someone, that should be your focus,” Amber said, but she didn't sound as though she was totally convinced—and she was
still eyeing the guys at the counter, with almost as much interest as she had for the pralines.

“My brother says even though he's ordered the entrée, he can still look over the menu,” Jenna said.

Her brother—the personal trainer—was five or six years older than she was and living with his girlfriend. If a guy was living with me, I would
not
want him still looking over the menu.

“Yeah, well, sometimes that can make you change your order. Just ask Drew,” I said.

“I guess, but still it seems a shame not to be able to look at all,” Jenna said. “And I'm crushing on actors all the time. Does that count?”

She'd developed a thing for Nick Simmons. It didn't hurt that he was six feet seven inches tall. She had every episode of
Gene Simmons: Family Jewels
still saved on her TiVo.

“That's just fantasy,” I said.

And I didn't want to admit it, but the guys who'd just walked in were sort of fantasy, too. I mean, I couldn't see a college guy really being interested in me, and these three were definitely
not in high school. They seemed too confident, cocky almost, but not conceited. Hard to describe.

I looked toward the counter. With one smooth motion, Red Cap removed his sunglasses. Our eyes met. From this distance, I couldn't tell the color, but they looked dark. He smiled. He really did have an inviting smile—a smile that promised fun and maybe…more. As though suddenly embarrassed, or maybe he was shy, or not impressed with me, he turned away and said something to one of his friends. The guy he was talking to was amazingly tall.

“How tall do you think that other guy is?” Jenna asked.

“Which one specifically?” I asked.

She glowered, because I was giving her a hard time. It was obvious which one she was referring to.

“Over six feet. Easy,” I said. “Maybe close to six six.”

I could hear the guys talking in hushed tones, not what they were saying, but I was pretty sure they weren't discussing the pastry
options. Maybe I'd picked up some of Saraphina's psychic abilities.

“I think we should probably go,” I said.

“Why?” Jenna asked. “We're not on a schedule.”

She was making eye contact with the tall guy. He'd removed his sunglasses, and his eyes were definitely a light color, blue or green.

“Stop that,” I whispered. “What if they come over?”

“What if they do?”

Okay, this was embarrassing to admit because I had at one time, after all, had a boyfriend, but the truth is, I didn't have a lot of experience flirting. Drew and I got together pretty soon after Mom gave me permission to start dating, and you don't flirt with your boyfriend. I mean, I never flirted with Drew.

I was tutoring him in math after school—part of a program sponsored by the National Honor Society—when he said he was having trouble with a really complicated formula. Then he wrote out Dawn + Drew =
x
.

He'd looked at me with those gorgeous blue
eyes of his and asked, “Could
x
equal date?”

And yep, as corny as it was, I'd fallen for it. Totally. That was the middle of my sophomore year, and we'd been together until our junior prom when I'd realized the answer wasn't an absolute constant—that the equation contained hidden variables.

“Look, I'm really not ready to deal with this.” I shoved back my chair and stood.

Jenna rolled her eyes and did the same, while Amber closed up her praline box.

“Whoa! You're tall.” Tall Guy had walked over and was smiling at Jenna.

Jenna smiled. It was the first time she didn't seem embarrassed by her height. I had a feeling if he asked how tall she was, she'd tell him six feet. No problem.

“So are you,” she said.

Tall Guy shot an air ball at an imaginary hoop just over Jenna's head.

“You play basketball?” Jenna asked.

He nodded. “You?”

“Swim team.”

He grinned really broadly. Nice smile. Really
nice smile. Maybe all guys had nice smiles, and Saraphina's prediction meant nothing.

“I like those uniforms better,” he said. “A whole lot better.”

“They're not uniforms. They're swimsuits.”

He just winked at her, and I could see her cheeks turning red.

The guy behind the counter, oblivious to the flirting going on, rapped his knuckles on the glass case. “Hey, big guy, you want something or not?”

I sort of expected Tall Guy to point at Jenna and say, “Yeah, I want her.”

But he didn't.

All three guys turned their attention to the clerk.

I could tell Jenna was disappointed that the flirting session had so easily and swiftly come to an end. With her cheeks turning even redder, she headed toward the door. Amber and I hurried to catch up.

“See ya!” Tall Guy called out.

Smiling, Jenna looked back over her shoulder and waved. Once we were outside, she said,
“Was he interested or not?”

“I think boys always choose food over girls,” Amber said. “It's a caveman mentality of survival.”

“Do you even know what you're talking about?” Jenna asked.

“Not really, but it was getting a little intense in there.”

“I thought you were okay with Dawn and me hooking up with someone, that you never met a stranger?”

“I am okay with it; I just wasn't ready for it to happen five minutes after we started talking about it.”

“So maybe we should have stayed.”

“But we were finished eating,” I pointed out.

“So? Would it have been a bad thing to be obvious that
I
was interested?”

“Do you want to go back in?” I asked. “Because if you really want to—”

Jenna shook her head. “Nah, no reason to go back in now. It would make us look fickle or something. Maybe desperate. Besides, it'd just be a one-night thing, and we're supposed to be
in front of the gate to Jackson Square at eleven tonight so Ms. Wynder can pick us up. Not sure I want to admit I have a curfew to an older guy. But he was certainly tall.”

“And cute,” Amber said.

“The curfew isn't really a curfew. I mean, Ms. Wynder is providing transportation, because we don't have a car,” I said.

“She's responsible for us. Chaperone. Sort of,” Amber said.

There were three other volunteers, six of us in all. Because Ms. Wynder had organized our group, she'd promised to look out for us, but it wasn't a school trip and no one had signed any binding contracts, consent forms, or legal documents. She'd driven us here in her minivan and arranged for us to stay in the dorm. She'd provided transportation to the French Quarter with the promise to pick us up later and the warning to not get into any trouble. Although I wasn't exactly sure what she'd do if we did get into trouble. Call our parents, I guessed.

But was she really a chaperone? If she was, wouldn't she have stayed with us, kept an eye
on us, instead of cutting us loose to find our own entertainment? Although to be honest, I was glad she hadn't tagged along. I think she's, like, thirty.

“You girls are going to be seniors in the fall. I trust you to be responsible,” she'd said when she dropped us off.

Telling us she trusted us was tricky on her part, because it made us feel like we had to behave. Not that we were known for getting into trouble or walking around with fake IDs, but still. Away from home, parents, and anyone who knew us…

I think we'd planned to do a little misbehaving.

I thought of the inviting smile in the bakery. I was probably crazy to have walked away. Why was it so scary now to even think about getting together with a guy?

I hated Drew. He made me question everything.

“So what
are
we gonna do tonight?” Jenna asked as we crossed the street after a horse and carriage rattled by.

I almost said that I wanted to ride in a carriage, but it seemed like such a touristy thing to do. Of course, we were tourists, so I supposed it would be okay.

Pointing to a door where a sign proclaimed
TAROT CARD READINGS
, Amber said, “Maybe we should pop in there. You know, verify what the psychic told us.”

“Or maybe we should have our palms read,” Jenna suggested. “See if Tall, Dark, and Handsome back there is in my future.”

“If he was, don't you think Saraphina would have said something?” I asked.

“I guess there's no way to interpret ‘fire that doesn't burn' as applying to him,” Jenna said.

“Maybe if he had red hair,” Amber suggested.

But his hair had been dark, buzzed short.

“Could ‘fire that doesn't burn' mean passion that doesn't happen?” Jenna asked.

I was totally confused.

“What?” Amber asked, obviously confused, too.

“Maybe there would have been passion between us, but I walked away.”

Actually, I thought, that sort of made sense.

“If that's the case, then you were supposed to walk away,” I said.

“So why predict it? So I live with regret?”

“Who knows? I bet people go insane after a reading, trying to interpret what everything means,” I said.

Jenna laughed. “I am obsessing, but you know me and puzzles. I'll stop thinking about it now.”

“Sure you don't want to have a tarot reading?” Amber asked.

“I'm sure. Let's just walk around. We've got six weeks to explore things, and I'm not really sure I want the future confirmed. I mean, in theory, it sounds like a good idea, but it's just not nearly as reassuring as I thought it would be.”

The French Quarter had been spared most of the devastation that had hit the other areas of New Orleans. There wasn't much traffic, other than foot traffic. I think it was because the streets were so narrow that cars barely missed swiping other passing cars and everyone had to drive so slowly. I wouldn't want to drive here.
Better to park at the outskirts and walk or catch a streetcar.

The buildings revealed interesting architecture, kind of romantic. A lot of brick with wrought-iron balconies decorated with flowers. It reminded me of the Lestat vampire novels. I was a huge Anne Rice fan. Before the summer was over, I wanted to see her house in the Garden District. I could imagine vampires walking these streets. And we hadn't even been here at night yet.

By the time we hit Decatur Street, the sun had dropped behind the buildings and dusk was settling in. We were really hungry, our afternoon snack a couple of hours behind us. Even finishing off Amber's pralines while we'd explored various avenues and shops hadn't ruined our appetite.

“Hey, Bubba Gump Shrimp Company,” Amber said, pointing to a restaurant. “I love the Forrest Gump movie. Let's eat there.”

“Works for me,” I said.

We walked inside. To the right was a bar area and to the left was a gift shop with all sorts
of Bubba Gump restaurant and Forrest Gump souvenirs.
RUN
,
FORREST
,
RUN
signs. DVDs of the movie. A suit that Tom Hanks had worn in the movie was on display.

“Three?” the hostess asked.

“Yeah,” Jenna said.

“Please come with me.”

We followed her through the crowded restaurant to the back and up a set of stairs into a smaller dining area. Booths rested along the wall and tables were in the center. We were the only ones sitting up there.

“Wherever you want,” the hostess said.

We took a square table near the window, with Jenna and me sitting on either side of Amber.

“The server will be up in a minute. Enjoy.” The hostess walked out of the room.

“Do we stink or something?” Jenna asked as she opened the menu. “That we have to be isolated from the other customers?”

“Well, we have been walking around most of the afternoon,” Amber said.

“Still.”

“I like being up here,” I said. “It's quiet, and
we can hear ourselves talk. It seemed kind of noisy downstairs.”

“It was noisy because people were down there. Maybe we'd see something interesting.”

“Are you saying we're not interesting?” I teased.

“We're away from home. It just seems like we should meet other people, experience things.”

“You're still thinking about that tall guy,” I guessed.