Chapter 29

Carys

Stepping inside the bar, I immediately notice it’s unlike most of the bars in this area. Most bars in or around the French Quarter have their doors and windows wide open with music blaring in order to catch the attention of those walking by. But this place, interestingly called Come Again, only has one door propped open and it’s not until I’m completely inside and seated on a stool that I notice the hard rock music coming through the speakers. There’s also not a strand of Mardi Gras beads to be seen.

Very interesting.

“How can I help you?” I turn to see a man with dark hair and equally dark eyes watching me closely from behind the counter, using a white bar towel to dry a stack of freshly washed glasses. He doesn’t have the typical welcoming demeanor one expects in a bartender, but there is something about him that’s just...intriguing.

“Hi, I’m Carys Matthews. I run the Blue Bayou hotel around the corner,” I say, pointing over my shoulder but having no idea if it’s the right direction or not. “I called earlier about hiring a bartender from here for a party I’m hosting and was told to come speak with a Mr. O’Sullivan.” My voice goes up like I’m answering a question and I’m probably coming off sounding like a stupid kid, but I can’t help it. This guy is intense and it’s intimidating.

“You can call me Shaw.” His tone is gruff as he thrusts his hand in my direction, offering a business-like handshake. I immediately accept it, giving him a smile.

“Nice to meet you, Shaw. I’ve heard great things about your place.”

He nods his head once, but his facial expression doesn’t change. For a second, I think that’s all the conversation I’m going to get out of him until he finally asks, “What kind of party are you hosting?”

“It’s a grand re-opening party for the hotel. I’ve recently done a few upgrades, spruced the place up a bit, while keeping its original charm.” I throw that last part in there because it’s important to me. “Anyway, I thought it’d be fun to re-introduce it to the community. I’m also all about supporting other local businesses so, if you have any brochures or business cards you’d like me to display in the hotel lobby, I’d be happy to.”

He seems to be mulling over my words while he continues to watch me. Approaching him like this is so out of my comfort zone, but I made myself pull up my big girl panties and just do it. If he says no, I’ll find someone else. It’s as simple as that.

But, why doesn’t it feel as simple as that?

“How fancy are we talking?”

Shaw’s question catches me off guard and I have to think about it for a second.

“It’s not anything super fancy, but it’ll be nice. Casual but charming,” I say with a slightly nervous laugh. “The party will take place in the late afternoon in the hotel’s courtyard, so the drinks should be refreshing, as well as tasty.”

“Will food be served?” He grabs a pen and notepad from his side of the bar and starts writing, like he’s taking notes.

“Lagniappe will be serving finger foods and I’ll be providing macarons.”

Shaw looks up at me with his eyebrows raised. “You make macarons?”

“I do. My grandmother taught me,” I reply with pride.

My answer must impress him because he nods his head, thoughtfully. “Those aren’t easy to master. I own the cooking school next door with my sister and we reserve that particular class for those we know are serious about learning.”

“A cooking school? How fun! I had no idea, but then again, I haven’t been out much lately.”

“Yeah,” he replies gruffly, almost like he regrets mentioning it and then continues hastily, “It was closed for a while, but we recently reopened it.”

“I bet that’s going over well. I’d love to have some info. I could pass it along to my guests, if you’d like,” I offer.

“I’d appreciate that, thanks.” He gives what could almost be considered a smile and a nod. I’m guessing he’s normally a man of few words, so I find myself appreciating the gesture. “If Lagniappe is doing the food,” he continues, “why not have them do the drinks as well?”

“Well, like I mentioned earlier, I really love supporting local businesses and I thought the party would be a great way to showcase some that are close by. If I have Lagniappe do the food and the drinks, that’s kind of like letting them bogart the party, you know?”

Shaw lets out a quick laugh, but stops, almost like he caught himself and thought better of it. It’s deep and scratchy, perhaps from lack of use, and very attractive, if I’m being honest.

When he brings his hand up to scratch his beard thoughtfully, I also notice a wedding band on his left hand. At that, I smile, feeling a bit of a blush creep up on my cheeks. I’ve always thought monogamy is sexy.

Not in a “I’m gonna steal her man” sort of way, but rather a “good for her”.

“I guess that’ll work,” he finally says. “Just let me know what time to be there.”

“That’s great!” I slide him one of my new fancy business cards and tell him I’ll be in touch to firm up the details tomorrow. I still need to check back with Micah on the exact menu.

I’m almost to the door when I remember to ask the question that’s been nagging at me since I got here. “Hey, Shaw, why is this place called Come Again? Besides the obvious, of course.”

“The obvious?”

“Well, you want your customers to come again, right? To come back to the bar?”

“Yes, that’s true, but the bar is actually named for my signature cocktail...something so good, you’ll be asking to come again and again,” he deadpans, and I expect him to follow it up with a smile or laugh, but he doesn’t. There’s no wink, no smirk… nothing. He just drops that bomb and goes back to business as usual.

Holy shit.

I’m now blushing from my head to my toes, and on that note, I hightail it out of the bar before he gets a chance to see my flustered state. If I was getting some on the regular, a statement like that might not have affected me in such a way, but since Maverick left, my whole body has been out of sorts.

Thankfully, I have a couple blocks to walk to my next stop and I use the time to cool my jets and clear my mind. The last thing I need is to be thinking about Maverick. Every time that happens, I tend to lose hours of productivity to daydreaming and feeling sexually frustrated.

After stopping by Lagniappe and finalizing the menu with Micah, I head back to the hotel. I hired a crew to clean up the courtyard and decorate it with fresh plants and flowers, as well as those cute, little fairy lights and I’m anxious to see how everything is coming together.

It was an expense I wouldn’t normally opt for, choosing to take the time and do it myself, but I haven’t had time and I still have some money left from the loan that I set aside for this specific task. Also, it’s not just for the grand re-opening. Afterwards, I plan on starting a new tradition on the weekends, treating our guests to hors d’oeuvres and drinks at sunset.

When I step inside, I hear Mary’s happy voice say, “Oh, here she is”, and my heart does a flip. For a fleeting, hopeful moment, I wonder if Maverick is back. I can’t help it. Ever since I sent him the journal, I’ve let myself start to hope he’ll walk through the doors at any moment.

There’s so much I want—need—to say to him and it should be done face-to-face. Even if he never forgives me for what I said to him, I must apologize. Then, I need to thank him for encouraging me to make all these necessary changes to the hotel. And lastly, I’d like to tell him how much I’ve missed him and that I was—am—falling for him.

In short, this grand re-opening is nothing without him showing up. Sure, I’ll put on a happy face and pretend like everything is fine, like I’ve been doing, but deep down, it won’t be a success in my book if he’s not here.

My excitement is tampered down, just a little, when I see that it is in fact not Maverick standing in my lobby, but CeCe. She turns to face me and I notice she has something flat, but huge, wrapped in brown paper next to her, leaning against the front desk.

“Hey, whatcha got there?”

“A little surprise for you. Well, for the hotel, that is.” She smiles as I walk over and give her a quick hug. I just saw her yesterday, when I dropped off some macarons and new brochures, and she didn’t say anything then about a surprise.

“Can I open it now or do I have to wait?” I ask, sounding like a kid on Christmas morning. I can’t for the life of me guess what it is but I love surprises, so I’m excited.

CeCe laughs. “You can open it now.” She steps to the side but keeps her hand on the top to keep it from falling over. Now that I’m closer to it, I can tell it’s something framed and I can’t wait to see it. Even though I want to rip the brown paper to shreds to get to it, I force myself to peel the paper back carefully, so I don’t mess anything up.

When I’m finally able to see what’s inside, I’m too shocked to do anything but stare at the gorgeous painting in front of me. I’m even more shocked when I glance down at the bottom, right corner and see the artist’s signature.

Peeling my eyes away, I look at my friend. “Camille Benoit-Landry painted this?”

“Yep! It’s an original, painted just for you. I think it’d look great right up there behind the desk, don’t you?”

I’m utterly speechless, nothing but stuttering sounds coming out of my mouth, as I look over the painting again. The swirls of colors on the canvas are breathtaking and I can’t believe CeCe did this for me. It’s absolutely beautiful and I get to look at it every day.

Finally finding my voice, I say, “Thank you so much. This means the world to me. I just can’t believe it’s mine!” I hug CeCe tightly while she giggles.

“Well, it’s kind of becoming a tradition here in the Quarter—a Cami Benoit-Landry original is like a lucky rabbit’s foot for businesses. I figured the Bayou could use all the luck it can get, and since you’re having your grand re-opening...I just wanted to say congratulations and I’m proud of you.” She sighs, looking down at the painting with a pleased expression. “Oh, and you can thank Cami yourself. She’ll be here for the party.”

“Shut your face! Oh my God, I’m just...” I hug her again. “Thank you. And I’m so excited to meet her. Please don’t let me do anything to embarrass myself in front of her,” I beg.

“The woman can only do so much, Carys,” Jules announces as he strolls in. “And, I like to think we’re all doing the Lord’s work when it comes to you. Can I get an amen?”

CeCe and Mary both say “amen” while laughing with Jules. I tell them to hush but they don’t listen. And really, I’m not at all insulted by Jules’ words because I know he’s right. I know I can be a hot mess and these people keep me in check. They’re my tribe and I’m so thankful for them.

The grand re-opening party is here and so are my nerves.

My brain is telling me to relax, that there’s nothing to worry about. It reminds me that this is just an opportunity for people within the community to come and see our renovations and what we have to offer. It’s also a chance for everyone to network and mingle.

So, no pressure, right?

Wrong.

My heart is arguing that today is extremely important and that the hotel’s future—my future—depends on the success of this party. Even though I know that’s not entirely true, it still feels that way.

A text brings my attention away from my inner turmoil.

Jules: Get out of that pretty, little head of yours and get your ass out here. You’re missing all the fun!

I sigh, knowing he’s right, and give myself one last look in the mirror before deciding nothing more can be done to my hair and face. I kept my makeup light and fresh because I’m just going to sweat it off anyway, and my hair is long and flowy, with the sides pulled back, because it has a mind of its own and, also, humidity.

I still haven’t heard from Maverick, but I don’t allow myself to dwell on that... too much. Last night as I read over the pages I copied out of the journal before sending it back to him, the ones he wrote while he was here at the Bayou, I tried to convince myself that if he doesn’t show up tonight, it won’t be the end of the world. I’m trying to be happy that he happened and not regret any of it, because all of it got me to this point. Who knows, maybe one of these days, I can take a little trip to Dallas and see what his world is like?

Stepping into the courtyard, I feel completely in awe. This is my courtyard, but it’s not. The flowers are bright and colorful, just like this city. They’re also fragrant and perfect for the space, along with the twinkling lights, faint jazz playing in the background, and the brush of sunlight still left in the sky, I feel transported to another world. Everything is simple and beautiful.

And hot as hell. Who on God’s green earth decided it would be a good idea to host an outside party in New Orleans during the summer?

Oh, yeah, that would be me.

Thank goodness I also had enough sense to rent some of those cool air machines that are basically like air conditioning for the outdoors. God bless technology.

When I see Jules standing on the other side of the courtyard, I walk quickly to him.

“So, what’s all this fun I’m missing?” I ask, picking my hair up off my neck and draping it over my shoulder, allowing some of that air I was talking about cool me off.

“Hello, you look gorge, by the way,” Jules says, air kissing my cheeks. “And the fun I was referring to is this.” He swoops his hands out in front of him before ending the movement with jazz hands. He’s quite annoyed when he realizes I still have no idea what he means.

“This,” he repeats with a hint of annoyance, his eyes going wider to emphasize his words. “Watching all this man meat work up a sweat while they set everything up.” Biting his lip, he fans his face and continues devouring the scene before us.

I can’t help but laugh at my friend. “Don’t ever change, Jules,” I say, patting him on the shoulder as I turn to see if there’s anything I can do to get things ready.

“Listen, sis, just because you’re still pining for Dreamboat’s longhorn, doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate the scenery.”

“You’re absolutely right and these guys all look like nice, respectable, hard-working men. Thank you for the distraction.”

“Oh, my God. Just get out of here and leave the drooling to me. You don’t even know how to gawk correctly.” He rolls his eyes, then walks off toward where Micah and his crew are setting up the food table, presumably to get a closer look.

I take that as my cue to leave and walk inside, admiring the changes that were made this past month as I go. We didn’t do anything drastic, just enough to make everything shiny and pretty again, while keeping its original charm.

Mary and George are the smart ones. They’re still enjoying our bought air indoors, manning the front desk. They smile as I walk up and I see the pride all over their faces. It makes my heart feel so full.

“Everything looks just great,” Mary says, walking from behind the desk to give me a hug. I fold into her embrace, soaking her in and smiling at George over her shoulder.

“I want y’all to get out there and enjoy the evening. Jules and I will take turns working the desk. Besides, most of the guests will be out there, anyway.”

“Oh, we will,” George says with a wink. “We might even cut a rug if you turn that good music up just a little.”

I laugh, a memory of him and Mary dancing from many years ago filling my mind. “Definitely. Just for you.” And me, I think, as I lean over and kiss his cheek.

I’ve been waiting for this feeling since my mom died—contentment, happiness...feeling like my grandparents and my mama are looking down on me and smiling, proud of who I am and how I’m living my life. And it feels good.

An hour later, the music is turned up, people are mingling and I couldn’t be happier.

Okay, I could be. But I’m making the best of it and telling myself this is good enough. Maverick is the only thing missing, and him showing up tonight was a wild card. So, I’m trying not to dwell on it as I make my way around, greeting guests and thanking everyone for coming.

“The drinks are great,” I tell Shaw, actually a little surprised to see him. I thought he might send one of his bartenders, but I didn’t think he’d actually come himself. “I really love this one.” I hold up the reddish orange drink before taking another sip.

“That’s the Come Again.” He gives me the same wink from the other night and I laugh, shaking my head when I feel the blush.

Shit.

He has an effect on me, what can I say. I want to tell him that his wife is a lucky lady, but I refrain, since I don’t know him that well. Besides, I wouldn’t want him to think I’m flirting, because I’m not. I’m just appreciative of his...appearance...and those tattoos.

He’s so interesting.

A hand touches my shoulder lightly, getting my attention, and I turn to see a tall guy with blue eyes—not Maverick’s blues, lighter. He also has deep dimples and a wide, kind smile that immediately endears me to him.

“Hello.”

“Hey,” he replies. “I’m Deacon, Micah’s brother. My wife Cami is—”

“The artist,” I finish for him, excitement building. “I’m Carys.”

When I offer him my hand to shake, he takes it and places a chaste kiss on the top.

Oh, he’s a schmoozer. I can’t help the girly giggle that escapes as I shake my head at the gesture, earning me another wide smile from him as he laughs at his own antics. “Just wanted to say that this place is so great. Thanks for inviting us.”

“Thanks so much for coming,” I reply, glancing around him. “Is Cami here?”

“Oh, yeah, she and Dani, Micah’s wife, went on a tour of the hotel.” He grins, his blue eyes twinkling with a bit of mischief. “You better get used to seeing our faces, because I have a feeling we’re going to be taking up residence. They were gushing before they even stepped inside.”

“I’d be honored, and please, let me know anytime you’d like to stay. It’ll be on the house. I’d love to be able to repay Cami for the amazing painting she did for me. It’s hanging in the lobby,” I tell him, pointing behind him toward the hotel. “Would you like to see it? Maybe we can catch up with Cami and Dani.”

“Sounds great.”

He shoots a wave over his shoulder at Micah as we walk by, getting his attention, and then points toward the hotel.