Chapter 30
30
NOT ALL KISSES WERE CREATED EQUAL. Especially where Micah Guidry was concerned. For the past three days, since he’d walked me to my car after leaving his house, I’d contemplated that truth. He’d sent me off with the tenderest farewell that played through my brain at the most mundane times. While brushing my teeth, trailing an acceptable distance behind Hayley and Emma at the Riverwalk mall, and now, as I updated the daily business review.
Two figures appeared in the open doorway of my office. I glanced up and found my parents. A spike of unease shot through me. I jammed my feet into my heels and stood. “Everything okay?”
“Yes,” Daddy said. Sporting a periwinkle polo and tan slacks, he gave the impression of having golf on his schedule today.
Mama, in a skirt suit and panty hose, gave the impression of sucking on a lemon. “Everything’s fine.”
I made a show of looking behind them. “Didn’t bring Ryan with you this time?”
Mama sucked a little harder on that lemon.
“No,” Daddy said. “Though he is part of why we’re here.”
Wariness prickled up my spine. I imagined a lengthy spool of yellow-and-black caution tape rolling out before them. “Can I get you anything to drink? Or eat? The lunch rush is over, so it wouldn’t take long.”
“No, thank you,” Daddy said.
I gestured toward the two guest chairs. Daddy shut the door, and Mama, oddly quiet, took a seat, lowering primly onto her chair. I did the same, folding my arms atop my desk. How strange. It was the first time all three of us had been in my office.
Daddy moved to the framed business goals, his face softening the slightest bit, no doubt at seeing Claire’s signature. “You were right about Ryan.”
I blinked. And pinched the inside of my elbow. Not dreaming. Was I having a stroke? I focused on my arms. Wasn’t one of them supposed to be tingling? Or was that only for a heart attack?
Daddy slipped his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Two months ago, Ryan asked us to partner with him and that celebrity chef, Paul Rodgers, on a French Quarter property.”
Whoa . It was a good thing I was already sitting.
“He’d said it was for an upscale restaurant,” Daddy continued, “and that Paul Rodgers wanted local backing on the project. It wasn’t clear to us Ryan was interested in the same location as you until you specifically mentioned it. Ryan also neglected to inform us of his number of failed projects. It’s horrendous what our private investigator discovered.”
I sat there, mouth agape, so many things clicking into place. Ryan reconnecting with my parents, his Chicago restaurant falling through.
“More recently, our private investigator overheard Ryan bragging about stealing your key employees and your café’s concept.”
I shook my head, my tongue pushing at the back of my teeth. “Technically, he’s only gotten one employee.”
Daddy lifted his hand. “The Landry name has been long associated with this house and your business venture here. Your reputation in the local industry is top-notch, and we refuse to stand by and allow Ryan to use what you’ve accomplished.”
Mama fingered her diamond tennis bracelet. “We want to loan you the money for the Vieux Carré location.”
My heart thumped against my ribs, and I pinched the inside of my elbow again. Good and hard. Staring at them in equal measure, I mentally weighed their current words to their past actions. They hadn’t cared before when I’d told them what Ryan had been up to. Judging by Mama’s overall quietness and the sourpuss expression breaking through her Landry Mask, something overtly sensitive was at play. “What else did your investigator overhear Ryan saying?”
Mama tensed.
Daddy’s cheeks reddened, and he stepped to the window, studying the view with great interest. “A few derogatory remarks about your mother, but nothing of consequence.”
Ha! So there it was. Her pride had been jabbed, and now she sought revenge.
Mama leveled her gaze on me. “We’ll lend you the funds with certain conditions.”
Of course. And now I knew I wasn’t dreaming. Strings were always attached with her.
Ever so slightly, she shifted in her seat. “We want to be partners in the new location.”
I practically sensed the ground shaking from Mawmaw’s bones rolling in her grave.
“We also want both locations open on Sundays,” she said.
The blood flowing beneath my skin began a low simmer. She’d always despised that aspect of the café. Could never understand it.
“And you’ll stop doing the lawn maintenance.” Mama’s chin rose. “Janice Freemont said she saw you mowing the grass. That’s ridiculous and embarrassing.”
The simmer bubbled, but I projected a firm calmness instead of yielding to my instinct to reach for a pointy object. I was an adult. I had control. My gaze strayed to the pencil holder on my desk, filled with all sorts of sharp writing utensils. I tucked my hands beneath my thighs. “What’s ridiculous is the cost to pay someone when I can do it myself.”
“Well,” she scoffed. “With our backing, you can afford for someone to do those things from now on.”
The fire in my veins ebbed. Giving up cutting the grass in the dead heat of summer marked a definite perk.
She picked a piece of lint from her skirt. “We also want to reinstitute our monthly dinners.”
Oof.
Mama glanced at her watch. “With the property going on the market in less than two weeks, we need to get our partnership agreement settled. Our attorney will be sending you a contract to review.” She motioned toward Daddy. “Let’s go. I’ve got a hair appointment, and you have a tee time.”
They left as abruptly as they’d arrived. I hadn’t even had time to stand and show them out. Had the last five minutes happened? The scent of Mama’s Chanel lingered, answering the question.
One thing was for certain, Micah was receiving an invite to tonight’s beignet date with Julia.
A librarian, a maid, and Harry Connick Jr. joined me at a table for four in the music room of the café.
Micah pointed to the life-sized cardboard cutout. “Is Harry really necessary?”
“Harry is always necessary.” I patted his hand atop the table. “Get used to him.”
The café had just closed, the staff working to clear the main dining area and other rooms, leaving ours for last. Julia and I had our usual order of original beignets before us. Micah had chosen the daily savory special. Three delicious beignets topped with slow-cooked, apple-braised pork debris and tasso cream sauce.
Julia sat on the edge of her seat, her eyes holding too much excitement for a woman drinking decaf. “Are y’all making things official?”
“What?” I snapped upright in my chair, feeling my eyes bulge. “No!” I glanced at Micah, expecting a dazed expression. Expecting him to have possibly vanished. He simply watched me, a trace of humor on his face. I glared at Julia.
One of her shoulders lifted. “What’d you expect me to think when you’d told me he’d be here tonight, and you had something big to discuss?”
She had me there. “My apologies for the confusion.” I smoothed a napkin on my lap, collecting myself from her slight detour. “My parents have offered to loan me the money for the Vieux Carré Café.”
It was Julia’s turn to wear a shocked expression, and it quickly morphed into wariness.
Micah stared at his plate, quietly absorbing the revelation.
Julia eased back in her seat, crossing her arms. “What’s the catch?”
I filled them in on my parents’ conditions. Again, Julia’s concern shone clear in her countenance. And again, Micah remained quiet. I took a sip of coffee, giving them a moment to wrap their brains around this new twist. On the other side of the wall dishes clattered, along with a chair being dragged and muffled conversations from the staff.
Julia’s thoughtful gaze leveled on me for a prolonged second. She picked at one of her beignets, as though carefully pondering her words. “My advice is to play it forward. Think about how involved they’ll be and for how long.”
I nodded, a speck of the tension I’d carried since this after noon releasing. “I could negotiate stipulations, as far as their roles and percentage of ownership. And buyout options.” My attention swung to Micah, who hadn’t even touched his silverware yet.
He leaned, resting his elbows on the table, a crease lining his forehead. “I’ll support you, no matter what you decide. But I agree with Julia. Play it forward. Once you start on this road with them, there’s no going back.”
“Thank you.” I offered him a hesitant smile, unsurprised by his encouragement considering how supportive he’d been the past few months. The weight on my shoulders receded to a more tolerable level.
“What’s your gut telling you?” Julia lifted a beignet and took a bite, powdered sugar falling to her plate.
“I’m not sure.” I turned my cup on its saucer, the ceramic scraping. “The fact I’m not overly excited says a lot.”
“It’s a serious decision,” Micah said. “And commitment.”
I pointedly met his stare, arching my brow for added measure. “I’m not afraid of commitment.”
“Good to know,” he murmured, one edge of his mouth tipping north.
The hope of a Twinkie and a tabloid had been my focal point for the past seven hours. I’d filled in for a waitress who’d called in sick, and I was grateful for the busy Saturday shift to be over. For the chance to relieve my aching legs. Thankfully, Mayté was on duty and would handle the official closing, including locking up the cash in my office safe and setting the alarm. I stepped through the back doors into humid air. The landscape lighting in the courtyard cast a golden glow, and the fountain sparkled, its rhythmic cascade of water adding a layer of sound to the night.
“Kate.”
I whirled, a scream building in my lungs.
To my right, Ryan casually leaned against the house, the overhead light pouring a yellowish hue over him.
I pressed a palm to my galloping heart. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk.”
“And you thought lurking in the shadows was the place to do that?”
He motioned toward the café. “I stopped in a little while ago but didn’t stay. I saw you working and decided to wait back here.”
I hadn’t noticed him. Of course, tonight had been nonstop.
He pushed from the wall, taking a step closer.
I remained next to the doors, refusing to budge an inch.
“I talked to your parents earlier.”
Ah. So that explained his visit.
“They made it clear they’re ready to pay whatever it takes to purchase the Vieux Carré Café.” He searched my face.
I held strong to the Landry Mask, adding a slight smirk for funsies. “I can’t believe you tried to partner with them.”
His chin lowered, and he stared past his slacks to his loafers. “I can’t believe you are partnering with them.”
Did I enjoy the look of defeat on his face? Yes. Yes, I did. Should I tell him I hadn’t accepted my parents’ offer yet? I internally shrugged. A small part of me wondered if this was the moment I’d been waiting for. That he’d finally apologize. Maybe he needed a little prompting. “Life has thrown crazier curveballs my way.”
He shook his head. “You mean Hayley, right?”
I remained silent.
He paced several steps away, then back, his footsteps heavy and reverberating. “It always comes back to Hayley with you.” His voice raised a notch. “We agreed we didn’t want kids. You didn’t want them.” He gestured toward me. “I didn’t want them.” His hand thumped his chest. “It was why we were so perfect for each other.”
I concentrated on the fountain’s peaceful babbling, such a contrast to this long-overdue moment. “It still wouldn’t have worked between us for one huge reason that had nothing to do with Hayley.” I took in his frustrated features and swiped my limp bangs from my eyes. “We didn’t have a shared faith. We didn’t have God at our core.” The past few months with Micah had made that blindingly clear.
“You had plenty of God for both of us.” His smirk had me briefly wishing for Cést Fou’s return. For Ryan to experience the winter wonderland treatment.
“I was na?ve to believe that. I was also na?ve to believe you’d love me enough to stand with me through anything.”
His head tipped forward with another shake, a muscle in his jaw flexing. “Neither of us wanted children. Did that change for you at some point during our relationship?”
“No.” A mosquito buzzed my ear, and I swatted it. “But then Claire died, and everything changed.”
“Oh, I know.” He drew in a sharp breath and released it. Paced another short distance.
I motioned toward him and his peeved state. “You’re the one who chose to leave. You didn’t love me enough to stay.”
“You didn’t love me enough to keep your promise we weren’t going to have kids.”
I stilled, my stomach clenching. “What was I supposed to do? Let my parents raise her?”
He scoffed, his face contorting. “Your parents never even factored. As soon as we found out about Claire and Adrian, I knew you’d want Hayley.”
The truth of his words settled over me, and a bittersweet smile escaped, taking the bite out of our conversation. “And I knew you wouldn’t.”
With his gaze anchored on me, he answered with a shrug.
The irritation that had been steadily building within slipped away. My weariness from a long day and this unexpected encounter struck, my sore legs and back muscles pushing to the front of my mind. I rubbed the Crease. “Why did you come here?” Because it sure hadn’t been to apologize.
“If this French Quarter deal falls through for me, I’ll lose my job.”
My hand dropped to my side, a jolt of energy zipping up my backbone. “You came to me for what? Expecting me to roll over and let you have everything? This isn’t some postcollege internship.” A vague ringing echoed in my ears. “You went after my executive chef. You stole my sous chef. You plan to copy Claire’s and Mawmaw’s recipes.”
“Those things are all business.” He gave another flippant shrug.
Heat flashed through my body, and I wondered if Micah’s jiujitsu classes taught how to rip someone’s shoulders off. Slowly, and one at a time. “Get out.” My tone was lethally calm. “And don’t come back here again.”
After one last imploring look, he made his way down the porch steps and across the courtyard to the side gate.
For the second time in my life, I watched him walk away. The me of eleven years ago had been shattered. Now I only felt relief. And gratitude. I sank down to the top stair, my muscles moaning, and tipped my gaze to the faint stars twinkling between the branches of the live oak. “Thank You, Lord, for sparing me from a life with that man.” I wrestled with the conviction twisting through my core. “I don’t know if I’m doing this right, but I want to forgive him. Please help me to. Please change the desires of my heart to want what You want.”
After another moment of letting my heart and thoughts drift in prayer, I trudged upstairs, unlocked the door, and was met with silence. “I’m home.” I peered into the hallway to our bedrooms and found Hayley’s door shut, light leaking from the bottom. No doubt Precious was curled in bed with her while they watched anime on YouTube. Hopefully not the cartoon with the psychotic morphing dog. We didn’t need Precious getting any ideas.
My stomach growled, reminding me I’d missed dinner. After retrieving a Twinkie and one of Mawmaw’s old tabloids from my room, I returned to the kitchen, placing them on the island. The cover of this edition of Weekly World News claimed a new Elvis sighting. I snorted.
After grabbing a bottled water from the fridge, I rooted through the pantry for the peanut butter and sliced bread. Dropped them on the counter and opened a drawer for a knife. Normally any sounds emanating from the kitchen resulted in Precious magically appearing, her enormous eyes beseeching. And if she was in Hayley’s bedroom, she’d scratch the dickens out of the door to get out. I paused from lathering a slice of bread with peanut butter and tipped my ear. Nothing.
I moved to Hayley’s door and knocked. “Hayley?” Turning the knob, I eased the door open, only to find the room empty. Dread rolled through me, and I swayed. Her school backpack, the one I’d been nagging her to clean out the past month, was missing, the contents dumped on the floor in a chaotic heap of old notebooks, worn pencils, and scraps of paper.
“No,” I gasped. This isn’t happening. I dashed through the rest of the house, room by room. No Hayley. No Precious. Standing in the kitchen, my pulse whooshing at my temples, my gaze fell to the counter, where we kept Precious’s body harness and leash. Gone.
“Hayley!” I yanked the front door open and darted outside, jogging the wraparound porch, scoping the area below, calling her name again and again into the dark of night. Nausea swirled, bile licking up my throat. A kidnapper wouldn’t have locked the door behind them, right? Or bothered with stealing her yappy dog too. Taking Precious for a walk this late was against the rules. And Hayley wouldn’t have brought a backpack. My mind spun. Had she run away? Why?
I pulled in a wheezing breath, skidding to a halt. My thoughts flipped back to when Hayley had eavesdropped on my convo with Julia when we’d been on the first-floor porch. Where Ryan and I had been. Had she overheard us? I yanked my phone from my pocket and checked our tracking app. Instead of her pinging dot, I found a notice. Location permissions off.
“No.” I ground out the word and called her. Landed straight into her voice mail. Fingers sweating, I shot her a text and dashed downstairs, my cell in a death grip. Flying into the café, I saw Jonathan standing in the dining room with a broom in his hands. My chest heaved with quick shallow breaths. “Have you seen Hayley?”
He shook his head.
I threw the café’s bathroom door open. Empty. Rushed toward the kitchen, pushing through the swinging door. Everyone stilled, taking me in. My wild gaze scanned the space. “Anyone seen Hayley?”
No’s all around.
I darted out the front door, the bell dinging, Jonathan on my heels. We ran the perimeter, unshed tears pressing hot against my lids. By the time we’d circled back, Mayté and the rest of the crew lingered on the lawn. Jonathan sprinted through the entrance gate, scanning the sidewalks.
“Lord, please,” I whispered, a tremble rocking my frame.
“Fan out.” Mayté barked the order. “Cover the surrounding streets.” Her small, firm hand touched my back. “Call her friend’s mom.”
“Right. Yes.” With shaking hands, I rang Emma’s mom and waited while she asked Emma and checked Emma’s phone for texts. Emma was clueless to Hayley’s whereabouts. With spots dotting my vision and pain shooting across my chest, I disconnected and dialed 911.