Vann

“Tell her what?”

Vann had overheard a part of the women’s conversation as he strode toward the back of the cafe. He said those words at the same time as GiGi was saying hers. The difference was, Vann already knew the answer.

“Vann!” GiGi said, noticing him in the doorway. There was that sweet smile of hers, now slightly dolled up with lipstick. He loved that face of hers bare, but she was just as lovely with a little makeup. Rosemary had done some little naughty wing thing with her eyes, and he liked it. She looked like a pin-up girl from the 1940s. Not sure it was completely GiGi’s style, but it was working for him.

“Maybe I’ll leave that to you, now that you’re here,” Rosemary said. “You have my blessing.”

Vann laughed. “So glad to hear that I have your permission to date whomever I please.”

Then turning back to GiGi, the only face that was of any interest to him right now, he said, “You were already locked up, but your server let me in. Sorry for barging in on your makeup sesh, but I couldn’t wait another minute to see you. Hope you’re hungry.”

* * *

On the outside, Vann’s house was an unassuming, tidy little restored bungalow in the Freret neighborhood of New Orleans, tucked into a row of similar homes, some turned into art galleries, some into bars and others as rental homes for Tulane students.

On the inside, GiGi could hardly believe this was really the home of a famous celebrity. It wasn’t because it was ostentatious or bachelor pad-looking. Totally the opposite of what she expected. She was surprised with how traditional and cozy it was. Against one long wall were built-in shelves filled with books. There was a reading nook in the window overlooking the neighborhood street. There was a cozy seating area with overstuffed couches, floor pillows, and antique side tables. There were touches of antiques everywhere but nothing ultramodern. No sports memorabilia. The kitchen was enormous, as she would have expected. Warm brickwork and a built-in brick oven in the wall, and a kitchen fireplace. “This house is…quaint!” she said.

Vann chuckled. “Thanks, I think. I wanted a soft place to land, where I could relax, and be a creative space but also good for raising a family. I’m not much for modern bachelor pad style.”

She goggled at the wall of books. “I can see that. I mean, I can totally see this room decorated for Christmas. No joke.”

He helped her slide off her coat, and one of the straps of her dress fell off her shoulder. His hand was warm as he fixed the strap back into place. “That’s what I was going for,” he said, huskily.

GiGi could feel his eyes on hers. His deadly serious gaze made her feel both unsettled and excited.

“I smell meat,” she said, glancing toward the kitchen area. I smell meat? Did those words just come out of my mouth?

Vann gestured for her to have a seat at the breakfast island, and then he took out of the warming oven a tray of appetizers to feed a family of five. She didn’t know what to try first.

GiGi settled on a smoked salmon and asparagus puff pastry thing. She pulled it apart just to check his technique, and could see the layers. This was fresh, and made with real butter. It melted in her mouth.

Oh my god, that is good. Then she felt his eyes watching her again. “Enough love in that for your liking?” he asked, pouring her a glass of wine.

“You win. You totally deserve the wedding contract.”

“I know.”

“Cocky much?”

“I worked hard to get here, and I’m not shy about claiming what’s mine. You should take a lesson. You’re a great chef and you should own that.”

“I do,” she said. “I’m a fucking awesome chef. Pastry and otherwise.”

“Good. Then I think we could be a good match.”

She looked in his eyes and she knew it was true. She also saw something else there, but it seemed so totally ridiculous. “I’m going out on a limb here, but…you look like somebody else I know.”

He smiled. “And so do you,” he said, sipping his wine.

“It’s weird, but you have the exact same eyes as this dog…well, technically it’s a wolf. It comes around every once in a while and I feed it in the alley at night.”

Vann set out a board of baked brie, sliced Anjou pears and nuts. “Huh, weird,” he said.

And then she got distracted by the aroma of the cheese. “Oh my god, I live for cheese,” she exclaimed, scooping up a pear with a hunk of gooey brie, drizzled with honey.

“I know, right? The only thing I love more than cheese and meat is cake. No, not cake. Just icing.. So what are you planning for the wedding cake?”

“Well,” she said, scanning the plate and spotting some interesting chutney she had to try next, “I have yet to meet with Rosie and Ash, but she tells me I can have free rein. However, I don’t know about Ash. I feel like he said something while he was drunk that he wanted some over-the-top Mardi Gras-style cake with a parade down Bourbon Street. So I might do something like that. With buildings and little musicians and a float with a bride and groom.”

She shook her head and silently chided herself for talking with her mouth full of chutney. Holy shit, this was good. “I don't know why anybody would want to live in the middle of all that noise,” she said.

Vann smiled. “That's our Ash. He’s just a wild man, I guess.”

GiGi looked at him concerned. “He’s marrying one of my best friends, so you’d better not be telling me he whores around.”

Oh no,” Vann said, getting up to check on something in the oven making a delicious aroma. “He just loves parties. Believe me, now that’s he’s settled, it’s for good. There’s no two ways about Ash. Once he picks you, you can’t get rid of him even if you try. Kind of like a stray dog. All of us are like that.”

She smiled, thinking of her Buster. “That’s good to know. I have to admit, I was a little worried that they haven’t known each other for very long. I guess I don’t share that innate sense about other people the way she does.”

Vann refilled her wine glass, then reached across the island, his hand closing in on her face. “May I?” he asked.

GiGi wasn't sure what he was going to do, but she decided to find out. All he did was tuck her lock of hair back behind her ear. It was the sweetest, most tender gesture she could recall from a gentleman on a date. “You’ll know when you find your mate,” he said.

She smiled at this choice of words. “‘Mate' seems like an odd, old-fashioned kind of word for modern party people like you and Ash. Does this have something to do with what Rosemary was hemming and hawing about? She acted like there was some big secret. Are you an alien?”

He smiled but looked a little bit sad, in a way that made her a little scared. Could it be he was sick? “We’ll get around to that subject sooner rather than later. Let’s just talk about you. What do you do for fun?”

“I spend almost every waking moment at the cafe.”

Vann pressed. “Let’s say by some miracle, you had two days entirely to yourself. What would be your perfect weekend?”

GiGi sighed and said, “I would love to just get away. Get out of the city, and I don’t know, be on a boat maybe? Go up the river or out to sea, where there are no people calling my phone and popping in front of me to ask questions, and just do nothing but watch the sun rise and then, I don’t know, read a book. I would love to just sit down and read a book.”

“Done,” he said.

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“It means eat up, because I’m taking you on my boat.”