Mark

“I never should have worked for him as long as I did.” My eyes follow the swaying of the topless dancers in the private booths behind the bar, but my mind is years away, remembering my role in the sins of this city.

Terrence sits beside me at the bar, a pint of Guinness in front of him. “You can’t blame yourself for trying to earn a living.”

“I could have gone to the Bahamas with you.”

He slaps my arm. “And leave behind the love of your life?”

My eyes drop to my beer. “I was always pretty obvious back then.”

“He took advantage of your character. You showed your hand when you grabbed that rope. It put you on the radar just as sure as a nice rack would’ve in that place.”

I look up at the girls swaying side to side. They wear less clothes at the jazz club now—pasties and thongs instead of skimpy bras and tiny shorts. None of them are as gorgeous as Lara.

“How did you get mixed up in that racket anyway?” He fumbles with an unlit cigarette.

“They let me smoke at work,” he says with a laugh. “No, it was good pay. I knew where to draw the line. When to walk away.”

“You didn’t have to work there. You could’ve charged more for rent.”

“Then how would I have met you?” He gives me a wink. “I’ve never been too worried about money. You get on that hamster wheel and you never get off.”

“So what motivates you?”

He shrugs. “Beauty, freedom.”

“And?”

“Pretty girls showing their tits.”

That makes me laugh. “I have to figure out a way to use what I know to bring them down. Will you help me, T?”

“Why you so worried about those guys now? They’re gone.”

Tension is in my chest, and I can’t tell my friend the whole truth. “Gavin’s holding something over Lara’s head.”

“Always the romantic.” He laughs, taking a long sip of dark beer. “I’ll do what I can, but I stayed away from those guys. I worked for Darby, and when he said we were done, I went fishing.”

“You also married Bea.”

“Can you blame me?”

“No.” We both sit in silence a little while. Then I prop my elbow on the bar. “I need to find Landry. He’s not at the NOPD. Any idea where he might have gone?”

“He never left the city, but I don’t know where he is now.”

“Could you find out?”

He shrugs, lips poking out. “I still see Eddie every now and then. He might know something.”

“Text me if you do. I’m at Roland’s place for now.”

He slides off the stool, and I follow suit, ready to get back to Lara and the baby. We still need to figure out where we’re going to stay, and I’m sure Roland has to get to the club.

Terrence stops at the corner and lights up. “Landry’s not going to tell you anything. He’s not that stupid.”

“Maybe not, but maybe I can convince him it’s in his best interest to cooperate.”

Specifically, it’s in his best interest to give me that fucking thumb drive.

“What exactly are you looking for?”

Shoving my hands in my pockets I study my friend. I’ve known Terrence as long as anybody in this city, and he’s always been a stand-up guy.

“They had cameras in every room. I need to get my hands on those recordings.”

His expression changes halfway through my explanation, as if he understands immediately what the introduction of surveillance means. He was the one who told me about the private dances, after all.

“I got you. I’ll see what I can find out.”

We shake hands, and I head north on Orleans Street. Roland’s place is just a few blocks away, but I want to make a slight detour first.

* * *

Lara

Mark texted he’s on his way back from meeting with Terrence, and I’m in Jillian’s closet-room. I’m not interested in staying here any longer than it takes to pack her things and leave.

“I’ll talk to Bill and see if we can do another concert this—” Roland stops in the doorway, but I don’t look up. “What are you doing?”

Jillian is in her crib kicking her little feet while she coos at her animal mobile. I’m emptying her drawers into my suitcase.

“We’re leaving.”

“Why?” He’s with me in two steps trying to catch my hands. I only push his away.

“I wouldn’t stay here another day if you paid me.”

“What the hell? Why are you acting this way?”

He’s still trying to stop me, so I pivot to face him. “How long have you been spying on me? Telling everything I do to Gavin?”

Anger burns under my skin, and I know it’s blazing from my eyes. I’ve been holding onto this confrontation since I faced Gavin in Seattle.

Roland takes a step back. “I haven’t spoken to Gavin in…” He shakes his head, his eyes roaming as if searching for an answer. “Five years? Since he left here.”

“I’m not listening to lies anymore. From anyone.”

I’m back to the bureau, pulling open the last drawer. He puts his palm on it and slams it shut. Jillian emits a squeal just before she hiccups and starts to cry. He leaves me and goes to lift her out of the crib, but I follow.

“Put her down.”

“I will not put her down.” Brown eyes flash at me. “You’re going to tell me what the hell this is about. What are you accusing me of doing?”

Jilly cries more, and I imagine it’s the first time she’s heard Roland raise his voice. Still, I’m not backing down.

“When we were in Seattle, when I met with Gavin. How did he know I had a baby? Only one person knew about her birth.” My eyes flashed, and I poke my finger in his chest. “You.”

“Did he say I told him?”

“No—”

“Then what the fuck, Lara? Are you kidding me?” Jilly’s cries grow louder, stronger, and he turns her so her little face is against his chest. He hugs her close and goes to the door, ducking as he leaves the room.

I stay behind a few moments, attempting to calm my emotions so I can calm my little girl. When I walk out, he’s swaying side to side, smoothing her back with his hand.

“Shh, princess. It’s okay.” His voice is soft, and he kisses her little head.

She’s still fretting, but she’s not screaming anymore.

“We went to a small, private hospital. I used an alias.” My voice has an edge, but I’m holding it steady. “No one knew she was born except Molly and you.”

“Then what did you do?” His voice matches mine, edgy but calm.

“What do you mean? We came back here and stayed with you. It all comes back to you.”

Jilly’s bottom lip quivers, and two tears hang in perfect little spheres on her bottom lashes. I reach for her, but he turns away, hugging her closer.

“What else did you do when you came here?” he asks.

My brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“Did you enter a convent?” Sarcasm.

“No, we—”

“You lived your life. You visited with Evie, you went out, you sang with me in the club… How do you think Mark found you?” His eyes flash, and he turns to me again.

Jilly scrubs her face against his shoulder and he inhales a few times, calming his voice. “Everybody saw you. Everybody knew you’d had a baby. Anyone could have told anyone, and it got back to him. How dare you accuse me?”

My throat is tight, and my heart is still thundering, but I can’t argue with him. The shock and fear of Gavin knowing everything about me is still so fresh, I’m not ready to let him off the hook so fast.

Still, he has a point. We didn’t go into hiding. We were out and about in the Quarter—where any number of Gavin’s old acquaintances might have seen us.

“Can I have her now?”

“No.” My jaw drops, but he continues. “All I’ve ever done is help and protect you, and since Jilly came, it’s been the same with her. You know where my loyalty lies.”

“Give her to me.”

The muscle in his jaw flexes, but he hands her over. I hug her close to me, and she puts her head on my shoulder. Two fingers are in her mouth, and she grips my hair in her little fist. Roland watches us, his expression stricken.

“Do you really think I’d do that?” His voice cracks, all anger gone. “I love you, Lara. I love Jilly. Soon you’ll be leaving, and I won’t see you… possibly ever again. Tell me you don’t believe I would hurt you.”

Swallowing the thickness in my throat, I hug my baby tighter before fixing my eyes on the floor. “So much has happened, I don’t know who to trust—”

“You know me.” He steps closer, so close Jilly’s back is against his chest. “You’ve known me all your life. I have always been there for you, through everything.” My own eyes heat, and I blink up to see the heartbreak in his. “Haven’t I?”

We stand here, and all the memories flash across my mind.

Being a teenager and being in love with him.

Him teaching me to kiss, encouraging me to sing.

His fury when I fell; his fury when I told him my bargain with Gavin.

Him slipping Rohypnol into the Sazerac to save me.

Him nursing me back to my feet after I was hurt.

Hiding me in his home and covering up my crime.

Finding Freddie to carry us away from this nightmare like a handsome prince in some fairytale.

Treating Jillian like she’s his own daughter…

A tear spills onto my cheek, and I shake my head. “I’m sorry, Roland. I don’t know what to say.”

His arms are around me at once, around both of us. He places his hand on Jilly’s back and turns me so we’re not squishing her. She doesn’t fuss. She’s so used to the two of us showering her with love and affection.

“You’ve been through so much, my love.” My head is against his chin, and he gives me one more squeeze before releasing me.

“I feel like I don’t know who to trust, I don’t know when it’s all going to end.”

“Mark is determined to end this, and if anyone can do it… Well, you can. I saw you do it with my own eyes. Gavin had better watch his step.”

He grins, but I don’t want to think about what I did. “I don’t even remember that night.”

“I do, and trust me. You are fierce. Wicked brave.”

Jilly’s head lifts and she looks at him, at me. Her blue eyes are so big, and I sniff before laughing. “She’s never seen us fight.”

“Give me my girl.” He holds out his hands, and she immediately leans into him.

I let her go, and he bounces her against his chest. “Mommy was a bit out of sorts, darling. You have to be patient with her. She hasn’t had it as easy as you.”

I roll my eyes, dropping onto the couch. “You spoil her so bad.”

“Back to what I was saying before all this recent unpleasantness.” He does a little wave as if to sweep it all away. “I’m going to talk to Bill tonight. As long as you’re here, I want to do another concert. The crowd loved it last time.”

“I don’t know. I don’t really feel like singing—”

“You do and you will. It’s the only time I get to play my old songs.” He carries Jilly to the kitchen. “We can do a mix of standards and Roland Desjardin originals. Do you know ‘Big Spender’? ‘The Man I Love’?”

Taking a deep breath, I exhale loudly. “Yes.”

Movement at the front door causes my eyes to flicker up. They key turns in the lock, and when it opens Mark is here. All my paranoia and anxiety melts away when our eyes meet.

He smiles, toeing off his boots. “How are my girls?”

I’m about to answer when my stomach growls, and I notice the large white bag in his hand emitting the most amazing aroma. “What did you bring us?”

“They’ve gone legit.” He holds up the bag with a teasing frown. “I only hope it’s still as good.”

“Petit Monjou is your secret poboy kitchen? They’re the best!”

Dropping onto the couch beside me, he leans forward to kiss my lips before pulling a bundle wrapped in white paper from the bag.

“The line was out the door.”

“It’s always like that. Roland took us there when we first got back. I wish I’d known…”

He unrolls the foot-long sandwich, and I have to stop speaking. My mouth is literally watering. “No more Everything poboy. Now they call it the Three-fer.”

“I don’t care what they call it. Give me some.”

He laughs, passing half to me, and I take an enormous bite, my eyes rolling with delight as the tangy rémoulade fills my mouth along with perfectly fried seafood.

Mark lets out a little groan as well. “Still the best,” he manages around his bite.

I’m grinning as we devour our dinner in record time. The day we sat on the river chatting and getting to know each other is on my mind. We were so young, falling in love on the brink of disaster.

Leaning my head on my hand, I trace my finger over his shoulder, my belly happily full. “How did it go with Terrence?”

He nods. “He’s going to see if Eddie knows anything.” I can’t help a shudder at that name. His eyebrows lower. “Yeah, I don’t like that guy either.”

“Good. You’re here.” Roland enters the living room with Jilly and a bottle. “I have to go, but it’s time for her dinner. She’ll need a bath, and then this little princess is ready for bed.”

“I actually remember how to take care of my child.” Impatience is in my tone.

“Yeah, but it helps me,” Mark jumps in, but I elbow his side.

“Don’t encourage him. He thinks he knows everything about babies.”

“I think he might,” Mark whispers close to my ear.

Roland only gives me a superior look. “Unpack her things. You’re not going anywhere.”

At that Mark pulls back, brows furrowed. I grip his forearm. “We had a fight. I was going to tell you—”

“Fight? What about?” His muscles relax.

“Lara was overly tired.” Roland hands me Jilly’s bottle, and I cradle her in my arms. “Now, I have to get to work. Practice those songs.”

Mark hops off the couch and holds out the white bag. “Hey, I got one for you.”

Roland stops at the door and glances at the offering. “It’s not often I say this…” He takes the bag. “I was wrong about you. You’re very good for Lara, even without money or connections.”

Mark exhales a laugh. “Thanks?”

Roland pats him on the arm and takes off. Mark locks the door behind him before turning to face me. I’ve got Jilly cradled in my arm, and her eyes are blinking slowly as she drinks her bottle.

“I never really know what to make of him,” Mark says, coming to sit beside me on the couch.

“He means well.” I lift my chin for another kiss.

Warm lips cover mine, and our tongues meet briefly. It’s just enough to send a tingle through my lower stomach. When he pulls back, our eyes lock, and my chest tightens. When this is over…

“Hey, can I give her the bottle?” He sits, and I look down.

Jilly’s just a little stowaway in the midst of all this turmoil. She’s so innocent, so trusting.

“Yes—of course!” I gently pull the bottle out of her mouth.

She immediately fusses, but I hand her to her daddy. Her head is so small cradled in the crook of his arm. I help him move her higher, then we position the bottle in her mouth again. She eagerly takes it, and her big blue eyes move around his face as she eats.

“She’s so beautiful,” he says, and the love expanding in my chest is so strong. It’s bigger than all my fears.

Resting my head on his shoulder, I touch her little arm. “She looks like you.”

“I think she looks like you.” He turns his smiling face and captures my lips again.

Just like that.

It’s so casual, so proprietary.

I love it.

“I love you,” I say softly, and he does it again.

“I love you.”

We’re quiet as our baby finishes her bottle. Once she’s done, I show him how to place her on his shoulder and burp her.

“Roland always says I do it wrong. I say I warm her up, and he just finishes her off.”

“I have no idea—”

He’s interrupted by a loud, sailor-burp out of our dainty little girl, and we both burst into laughter.

“I think you’re the king. She’s never burped that fast!”

He shrugs. “Beginner’s luck.”

“Come on.” I unfold my legs and stand. “You can help me bathe her.” His eyes are worried when they meet mine, but I smile. “It’s not hard. Come on.”

Roland and I have always bathed her in the kitchen sink. It’s fun and old school, and she can’t slip away so easily. I put a towel on the bottom and run a mini bath of warm water. Jilly is braced over my forearm, and she bends her knees quickly, bouncing up and down and splashing water all over both of us.

“I think she likes this,” he says, holding up a hand and laughing.

“She always makes the biggest mess.”

She laughs and coos, and I grip her slippery little body as I direct her daddy.

“She doesn’t get very dirty. Just try to clean all her crevices.”

“I feel like I’m invading her privacy.”

“She’s a baby, Mark.”

“Still.” He dabs the washcloth at her little butt barely making contact.

“Nevermind, she’ll be okay for tonight. Grab that towel.”

Jilly squeals and slaps the water. I lift her out and place her in the fluffy white towel her dad wraps around her little body. We carry her to our bedroom and dry her, put on her diaper. I smooth lavender lotion on her shoulders and legs then I zip her up in a long-sleeved onesie. Her legs kick and she waves her fists watching us.

“Ready to sleep little girl?” I say, picking her up and situating her on my shoulder.

We walk into the living room, and Mark sits on the couch. “Want to sit?”

“She goes to sleep quicker this way.” I hold her in my arms, swaying side to side.

He watches us smiling. “You should sing to her.”

My nose wrinkles, and I don’t know why I feel shy. “It’s been so long. I don’t know…”

“Roland wants you to practice. What did he say?”

“He said a couple of different things.”

“Pick one.” His voice is warm, and his blue eyes hold mine.

The lift of a song moves through me, and I close my eyes thinking of my favorite Gershwin tune. Closing my eyes, I slow my swaying as I hum the bridge of that old standard. It’s a wish about meeting the man I love… someday, maybe on a Tuesday…

Building a home…

Never roam…

The melody slips from my lips as easily as pulling on a silk dress. “And so all else above, I’m waiting for the man I love…”

When my eyes flutter open, Mark is watching me like he used to so long ago from the catwalk far above the stage floor. Butterflies take flight in my stomach, and I want to laugh and cry and sing and dance all at once. The cutest little snore comes from my shoulder, and I look down to see Jilly fast asleep on my arm.

My heart warms with all the love in this room. “I’ll put her in her crib,” I whisper. “Meet me in the bedroom?”

His low voice sets my body humming in all the right places. “I thought you’d never ask.”