CHAPTER FIVE
**
The closer I got to New Orleans, the more the butterflies in my stomach fought to get free—and I was starting to think that if I couldn’t get them calmed down, they’d force their way out and take my lunch with them. Every exit seemed to taunt me—a tiny voice in my mind kept whispering one less chance to turn around beyond this point.
Why had I agreed to do this? Oh, yeah…I flashed back to my ill-fated trip to the music store in Natchitoches. All I’d wanted was to see his face, to hear his voice, to see if the years had dulled my memory even a little. I didn’t even have to flip through the racks of CDs to know—his unforgettable features stared out from a poster in the window, a bit older, a bit leaner, but still unmistakably him. As I approached the entrance, I glanced up, stumbled over my own feet, and deja vu slapped me upside the head. It was like the past five years hadn’t existed, and I was standing outside Bartholomew’s again—I promptly became pulled in by the pain in his mesmerizing green eyes and there was nothing I wouldn’t do to see him again. Before I realized what I was saying, I’d agreed to let Mom babysit James for the night so I could drive down and attend the show…alone.
I took deep breaths, as I exited the interstate where the soft-spoken GPS voice directed me to—breathing in through my nose and out through pursed and trembling lips, to avoid hyperventilating, even possibly passing out. I forced all of my focus and concentration onto the words telling me where to go, refusing to consider what awaited me at the end of my trip, after the last turn and the final you have arrived at your destination.
Over the music I heard, “In four hundred feet, your destination will be on the right.” My breath caught in my throat. Then, “You have reached your destination.”
I lifted my gaze and looked up. A sign caught my eye: Blue Orchid Inn and Suites. My mouth fell open as Lucy’s words echoed in my ears. The muscles in my shoulders, back, and neck relaxed, and I slumped against the headrest.
“I booked you a room next door, at the Blue Orchid Inn, because I know there’s no way you’ll be able to force yourself to go to that concert without a little alcoholic lubrication—and I don’t want you driving under the influence or kicking yourself for chickening out before even entering the venue. At least, this way, you can sip a glass or two of wine before the show starts, maybe force a bite or two of food into your stomach, and have a place to run and hide if it’s too much for you to take.”
How did I get so lucky, to score such an awesome friend? I blotted tears, found a spot to park and exited the car. After picking up my room key, I stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for my floor. As the doors swept closed I saw a familiar form stride away from the second elevator. My knees trembling, and my heart pounding like a kettle drum, I fell against the back wall. It was him! There wasn’t a doubt in my mind. His shoulders were bulkier, more muscular, as if he worked out, and his hair was a smidgen shorter—not quite brushing his shoulders—and streaked with lighter highlights, but I’d recognize him anywhere. Jessie was staying here—at my hotel…
In the room, every security measure engaged, I pulled out my phone and called Lucy.
“Oh, my god, he’s here!” My voice shook with suppressed emotions.
“Of course he is, silly girl—he has a show tonight.”
“No, I mean he’s here—at the hotel. I just saw him.”
“OMG! Did he see you, too? Did your eyes meet across a crowded lobby?” she squealed.
“Haha! No, he was walking away from the elevators as my door was closing.”
“You didn’t even try to get his attention?” I heard her disapproval loud and clear through the speaker.
“I froze. What if he doesn’t want to see me?”
“You won’t know if you don’t have the balls to try, will you?”
“You don’t understand.” I loathed the spineless whine in my voice…that wasn’t the real me—was it?
“You’re right, I don’t understand. Instead of getting knocked up by an up and coming rock star, I got knocked around by a high school dropout with a prison record and a short fuse. How could I possibly understand?”
“Lucy—“
“No, shut up and listen for once.” I pulled the phone away and stared at it. She really sounded pissed, but…she never really got angry—not at me, anyway. As I pressed it back to my ear again, I caught her in mid-rant, “—was me, I’d do everything in my power to reach out and make contact—take that leap of faith and at least try. You only live once, and life is too fucking short to hesitate. You grab it by the short hairs and hang on for dear life, so that, at the end, when you’re staring the Reaper in the face, you can look back and say, I squeezed out every fucking drop, motherfucker, so let’s see what’s next.”
“Wow, I—“ I collapsed onto the bed, “I’ll try.”
“Try isn’t good enough. You have to succeed.”
“Fine, I’ll try until I succeed.”
“That’s my girl. Exactly the words I wanted to hear.”
“Psycho.”
Her laughter poured out into my ear, lifting my spirits. “You say it like it’s a bad thing. Go get ready. The show starts soon.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but the utter silence on the other end tipped me off before I wasted my breath—she’d already hung up. Jittery again, I called room service and requested a bottle of wine. A couple glasses of wine and a bubble bath later, and I was ready to take on the world.