Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
The only thing I wanted to do when I locked eyes with that man was cry.
Thankfully, I refrained. My memories from New Orleans had been my saving grace; my light in the darkness.
But all the mint juleps in the world couldn’t bring that back.
No, I needed something more, and now it was standing right in front of me.
Dylan skirted around us. “I’ll be inside.” Frankly, I’d forgotten he was there.
I never broke eye contact with André, only speaking once the apartment door clicked shut. “How did you find me?”
“Dylan called; said you could use a pick me up. Why don’t you let me buy you dinner and you can fill me in?” As he spoke, André strolled closer.
“Do we do that?” I asked, nervous. I never expected to see him again, much less on my side of town, asking about my problems.
“We can.” André removed his hand from his pocket, wrapping his arm around my waist. I happily leaned into him, resting my head on his chest. His lips brushed my hair, and tension melted from my body.
He dropped his voice to a comforting whisper.
“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, but I’m here if you do.
Whatever you want to do, we do. I’m yours if you’ll have me. ”
With the last word, he placed a gentle kiss on the top of my head.
My eyes burned, and I squeezed them shut.
I was not going to cry in front of this man.
For a while, we stood there under the crappy outdoor lighting.
André held me, rubbing soothing shapes across my back.
A strong gust of wind blew and I shivered, wiggling closer. “Are you okay darlin’?” he cooed.
My stomach fluttered. “Just cold.”
“Why don’t you go in and change before dinner?” André fingered the collar of my scratchy shirt. “Put on something a bit more comfortable.”
Ugh, happily. I was going to burn those clothes the first chance I got. “Come in.”
I led André inside, closing the door behind us. The apartment was pleasantly warm, and the smell of coffee wafted in from the kitchen. I called out for Dylan as André helped me out of my jacket. A light turned off down the hallway and Dylan walked into the living room.
“I thought you two would have been out of here,” he commented with a knowing grin.
“We are as soon as I get out of these clothes.” I turned back to André. “You want some coffee or anything while I get changed?”
“No,” he whispered, taking my hand in his and bringing it up to his lips. “Just you.”
I didn’t think I could blush any deeper, but I did. It crossed my mind to say screw it all and lock André in my bedroom for the night.
But with a hand on my waist and a dirty whisper in my ear, he put a stop to that. “I see that look on your face, baby. Go into your bedroom, get changed, and pack an overnight bag. Trust me, you wouldn’t be able to stay quiet if I paid you.”
André’s tongue darted out and drew my earlobe into his mouth, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. My knees buckled, his hand the only thing holding me up. “Yes, sir,” I huffed.
André relaxed against the front door, watching me.
I took backward steps toward my bedroom, his lust-darkened green eyes on me the whole time.
He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t need to.
I could infer exactly what he would have said: “Hurry.” Getting through an entire meal without jumping him was going to be hard work.
I swiftly swapped my court clothes for a dark long-sleeved tee and a half-decent pair of jeans. After making sure my hair was… acceptable, I slipped into my leather jacket and sat on my bed to lace up my old canvas sneakers.
There was a soft knock at the door, and I rushed to unlock it. “I’m sorry,” I said, finding André on the other side. “I was taking too long, wasn’t I?”
“Relax baby.” André put his hands on my hips and tugged me close. “I just couldn’t keep my hands off you for more than five minutes.”
I let myself relax into his arms, resting my head on his chest. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Before I could say anything else, my stomach rumbled, making André laugh. He released me long enough for me to throw some clothes and my toothbrush into a backpack before taking my hand and leading me out of the room. “Let’s get you fed.”
Living blocks away from River Street, we walked. It was a nice night out. We strolled through the streets hand in hand, neither of us speaking. We didn’t need to.
The wind coming off the river was cool, but a blanket of pollen settled over everything in sight: a typical spring in Georgia.
We chose a small restaurant a couple blocks from River Street, where we were led inside by a curly-haired brunette.
André helped me out of my jacket before I took my seat, and I thanked whatever god existed that I was already sitting down when he shrugged out of his coat.
Oh, I was hungry alright—but not for food.
The heavy winter coat fell away to reveal a pale gray, well-tailored suit, forming to the best parts of André’s body.
To my relief, he paid me no mind. I sat there, nearly drooling, while he unbuttoned the jacket to take his seat.
The white button-down seemed just as luxurious, as well as the seamless silk tie.
When he sat, he noticed me watching. “You alright?”
“F-fine,” I stammered. “That suit’s impressive.”
“Thank you,” he said, almost bashful. “I’d been in a meeting when your brother called. I ran home to pack and didn’t bother to change.”
“It looks expensive.”
A server swung by the table to take our drink orders—mint juleps, naturally.
“It was expensive,” he answered once she left. “Tom Ford.”
“I don’t have the slightest clue who that is, but he sounds… expensive.”
“You get really caught up on numbers, don’t you?”
“When you grow up without a lot of them, you can’t help it.”
André reached across the table and grabbed my hand, not seeming to care that we were in public. “You don’t have to worry about them with me.”
Our drinks were set in front of us, and André let me order first.
“Same for me,” he said when it was his turn, “but rare on the steak.”
I made a face, and he laughed.
“So, you told me your job keeps you pretty busy. What is it that you do?”
“Commercial real estate.”
“What does commercial mean?” I took a drink, enjoying the smooth bourbon sliding down my throat.
“Businesses over houses. You remember the restaurant I took you to? Mama’s place?”
I nodded, slowly sipping at my cocktail.
“She was my first client. She was an empty nester, her kids had gotten married and moved away, and she’d always wanted to open a restaurant.
She took a chance on this kid who had just passed his real estate exam.
The firm I was working for gave me this run-down building and challenged me to sell it in post-Katrina Louisiana.
That woman put her life savings into that place and made it into what it is today.
In all that, she gave my business card to a hot shot businessman who needed a new office space, and that was my first big sale.
That hot shot gave my name to his hot shot friends and now, you’re sitting across from a man who makes seven figures a year and wears expensive suits. ”
I briefly hesitated. I did get hung up on numbers. I’d started my adulthood being dependent on a man, and I was still trying to dig myself out of that hole. There was no way I was putting myself in that position again. “I don’t want to be kept.”
André’s brows furrowed. “Who says I’m keeping you?”
“That’s usually what people with money do with people like me.”
André’s thumb gently stroked my skin. “I’m not one of those people. I’m not going to keep you, but I do plan to give you the treatment you deserve.”
I blushed and ducked my gaze into my drink. “Fair enough.”
I asked André about his past, and happily sat back to let him talk.
He was thirty-two, and moved from Germantown to New Orleans after graduation.
He was an only child and close to his parents, even though they still lived in his hometown.
His favorite color was pink. He hated lima beans, brussels sprouts, and tomatoes judging by the way he picked them out of his salad.
The conversation lulled, and I awkwardly pushed lettuce around my plate. I knew what was coming next.
“Are you ready to talk?” André asked. He cut into his steak, blood oozing onto the plate.
“I don’t want it to change your opinion of me,” I muttered into my food.
“If it would, I wouldn’t be sitting here.”
Instead of answering, I unrolled my napkin. “After I eat.”
André didn’t protest, and I brought my fork to my mouth. The first bite of steak hit my taste buds, and I nearly moaned. It was the first real food I’d eaten in weeks. I knew I’d lose my appetite the minute I started talking about Regan, so I savored every bite.
I stretched out the meal, dreading the conversation to come. With my last bite, I pushed my empty plate away from me and took in my surroundings. I wouldn’t have said the place was packed, but there were still too many people for my liking—too many listening ears.
“Would you mind if we went somewhere else to talk?” I asked. “It’s a little noisy in here.”
“Of course,” André said, standing from the table with the excuse of using the bathroom.
I waited for the server to come by, but she never did. Instead, André returned—with another drink in each hand. He offered one to me.
“Something tells me you’re going to need it.” André grabbed my jacket and before I could get a word out said, “I’ve already paid and I refuse to look at the dirty look you’re giving me right now.”
He pulled my jacket over my shoulders and gently kissed my cheek. I stood to the side while he rebuttoned his suit jacket and tossed his coat over his arm. By the time he turned my way, I was damn near salivating again.
Fuck me—what am I getting myself into?
I led André out of the restaurant and down the block toward the river. It wasn’t too special, but I enjoyed it. All the touristy stuff got old when you lived there, but I’d always enjoyed the river. It was a safe space when things got hard.
“Have you always lived here?” André asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I shook my head. “I’m from a small town down south.” I led André through an alley and down a flight of cobblestone stairs. We emerged between two buildings, and the lights on River Street lit up our view. I took a deep breath, immediately relaxing.
“This way,” I said, tugging André down the street, across the cobblestone, and to a perfect spot with an overview of the river. We leaned over the railing, and I let the lights twinkling over the river hypnotize me. André stepped close, wrapping his arms around my waist.
I melted into him, suddenly feeling a sense of security so strong that it was almost overwhelming. My head fell onto his shoulder, and his stubbly cheek brushed mine.
“I don’t know the details. Dylan just called this morning and told me that you could probably use someone.
I dropped everything and got on the first flight out here.
” He pressed gentle lips to my cheek before he continued.
“You don’t have to tell me every dirty detail, but I would like to know if you’re okay. ”
I inhaled so deeply that my lungs ached. I couldn’t put it off anymore. I had to start talking, even if it was just for myself. I’d spent so much time living it, but none of it felt real. Maybe it would help to get it out to someone other than a legal team.
“I’ll talk. But I need you to let me do that. No interruptions, no advice, no pity.”
“You got it baby.”