6. Six
SIX
Charlie suggested lunch, and even though I felt antsy — the Axeman story always did that to me — I agreed. I hadn’t eaten yet, and if my anxiety was any indication, I was going to need the fuel.
I asked Charlie what she preferred, and her enthusiastic response was authentic Cajun food. A quick glance at Jack and the way he shook his head gave me pause.
“She can’t handle the spice,” he mouthed at me, making sure Charlie didn’t hear. Then he made a big show of scratching his cheek and staring at the wig shop across the street.
“Okay, well … .” The Pelican Club was great, but too swanky. It was only open for dinner. Cafe Fleur De Lis was a possibility, but it would probably be busy this time of day. Then I landed on the perfect location. “Come on.” I motioned for them to follow me.
Charlie let loose the sort of squeal I associated with teenage girls, and Jack took her hand, shaking his head. I walked in front of them for the five blocks to our destination.
Charlie stood on the sidewalk and stared at the cream-colored pillars on either side of the black doors. The restaurant was always clean and had a comfortable vibe that I enjoyed with Toni and Lex regularly.
“This looks great.” Charlie’s eyes were wide as she took in our surroundings solemnly.
“Is this where the locals come?” She was so earnest I had to take a moment to consider what she was really asking.
When I shot a questioning look to Jack — I really didn’t want to hurt her feelings — he merely shrugged.
“Charlie wants to belong here,” he explained, choosing his words carefully. “She loves this city and the people. But it’s a tourist destination and she’s afraid she’ll be seen as a tourist for the rest of her life.”
“Ah.” Understanding dawned. “So, here’s the thing.” I debated the best way to explain so she’d understand. “There are certain places — mostly bars — the locals avoid. Like, you’ll never find a local on Bourbon Street.”
“Because it’s gauche?” Charlie asked.
“It’s annoying. Even as a kid, I never yearned to hang out on Bourbon Street. We all knew that the city needs Bourbon Street to thrive — our parents explained that to us repeatedly — but it never really felt like it belonged to us, and that was okay because we had other areas.”
“You’ve never had a drink on Bourbon Street?” Charlie looked disappointed enough that I laughed.
“Of course I have. I just don’t make a habit of it. Sometimes, when I need to meet clients, they suggest a bar on Bourbon Street because they own it or it’s convenient. I always let them choose. When I choose, I’m almost always over on Frenchman Street.”
“We’ve heard about Frenchman Street a lot since we’ve been here.” Charlie darted a look toward Jack. “We should go there one night.”
“Okay.” Jack, ever amiable, nodded. “Is it safe there?”
The question both threw me and made me grin. “It’s fine. You’re trained, for crying out loud. You guys will be good. There aren’t cops at every corner there, thankfully, but there’s not a bunch of scammers hanging out on Frenchman Street.”
“Because the tourists aren’t there,” Jack guessed.
“Pretty much.” I glanced at Mena’s Palace and lifted one shoulder.
“As for the food, you’re going to find that’s a different situation.
We might want our cocktails and jazz authentic, but good food is good food.
We will eat at the tourist traps. I don’t know a single local who doesn’t eat at the tourist places, even if they publicly disdain them.
“Take Oceana,” I continued. “I don’t eat there all the time. It’s right off Bourbon Street and really is for the tourists. But the first hangover I ever had, Lex’s dad is the one who caught us.”
I smiled at the memory. “He was mad, and yet he seemed resigned to it. He kept saying, ‘It’s New Orleans. This was bound to happen,’ as he walked us to Oceana. He ordered biscuits and gravy for us. Their biscuits and gravy come in a big pasta bowl and are glorious.”
“So you associate your hangover food with Oceana now,” Jack guessed. “It’s nostalgia.”
I bobbed my head. “Just because the tourists take over some of our better places for months on end doesn’t mean we avoid them. Heck, as soon as the tourism dies down for the summer my friend Toni and I head straight to the Carousel Bar at Hotel Monteleone. It’s a gimmick, but a fun one.”
“You’re saying that even though this restaurant is in a tourist area you keep coming back because it’s good,” Jack said.
“It’s excellent,” I promised, ushering them inside. “You’ll love it.” I stopped at the hostess stand to ask for a table for three, but my eyes caught a familiar figure already at a table.
“Lex is here,” Jessica Sandusky announced. She’d been behind me in high school by about three years and always had a bubbly personality. Normally, it bothered me. Today, I managed to push it out of my head. “Are you guys together?”
“We weren’t but … .” I glanced over my shoulder, then back at Jessica. “How long has he been here?”
“About five minutes.” Jessica shrugged as if to say, “I’m not his keeper.”
“Just take us to his table,” I said. “I have something to talk to him about anyway.”
“Okay, but be forewarned, he’s in a bad mood.” Jessica’s nose wrinkled. “Like, a really bad mood.”
“Like his date last night didn’t work out?” I asked, rethinking my plan to join him.
“Like his date last night worked out far too well and he was drunk enough to give her his number,” Jessica said. “She’s blowing up his phone.”
Delight rippled through me, but I hid it. Mostly. “We’ll sit with him.”
Jessica snorted. “I love when you give him a hard time.”
“If he would just keep it in his pants occasionally these things wouldn’t happen.” I cast a look over my shoulder. “You guys are fine eating with Lex?”
“Sure,” Jack replied. “I can’t wait to hear about his bad date.”
He wasn’t the only one.
Lex looked up with something akin to terror when he realized someone was approaching his table. He visibly relaxed when his eyes fell on me. “Do not scare me,” he ordered. “I hate that. You know I hate that.”
“It’s not my fault you have no spatial awareness when you’re hungover.” I plopped down in the chair next to him and sniffed. “You smell like a sewer.”
“Do you want me to tell you what you smell like?” he shot back.
I wagged my finger. “Try to be an adult. We have guests.” I gestured to Jack and Charlie, the latter of whom looked worried. Jack, as usual, was impassive.
Lex wasn’t in the mood to play nice. “Listen, you guys seem decent enough, but if you’re going to be around on a regular basis you have to realize that Freya and I have known each other for a long time. We interact like siblings. Do you have siblings?”
“I do,” Charlie volunteered, her hand shooting into the air as if she were a prized pupil.
“I have a brother named Casey. We weren’t together as kids.
I was abandoned by my parents so an evil witch wouldn’t wipe out the family.
We didn’t meet until we were adults, and we don’t get along like normal siblings. We still tiptoe around one another.”
Lex blinked. “I don’t know what to say to that,” he said.
I laughed at his reaction. “You don’t say anything. Also, you need to get over yourself. It’s not our fault you hooked up with a needy individual last night.”
“Needy?” Lex shot me a dubious look. “She’s a Grade A clinger. I was barely out of her bedroom when she started texting.”
“Why did you give her your number?”
“She tricked me.”
“With her magic vagina,” I guessed.
Lex’s finger shot out and didn’t stop until it was right under my nose. “It’s not my fault those bands were so bad last night that I had no choice but to drink.”
“Right?” I bobbed my head. “Did you see Brett?”
“You mean Blade?”
“No, I mean Brett.” I frowned at the memory. “There’s bad, and there’s that guy. He makes Nickelback look talented.”
“Word.” Lex bumped my fist. The first day I met him, he bumped my fist and told me everything was going to be okay. I’d believed him, and we were still bumping fists to this day.
“What are you going to do?” I asked, inclining my head toward his buzzing phone.
“Why not just block her?” Jack asked.
“Because she’s not a tourist and she’ll track me down,” Lex replied. “I need to come up with an excuse she’ll buy for why I can’t see her again.” He paused. “Is leprosy still a thing?”
I gave him a dirty look. “Why don’t you tell her you have scabies on your penis or something?”
“Then she’ll say, ‘We don’t have to have sex, we can just cuddle on the couch,’ and you know how I feel about cuddling.”
I feigned solemnity. “Of course. Cuddling is the worst.”
“I like cuddling,” Charlie interjected. “It’s fun.” She looked to Jack for confirmation. “You like cuddling, don’t you?”
Jack didn’t care that Lex had an alpha personality. He was comfortable in his own skin, and that skin wanted to be pressed up against that of his wife constantly. “Cuddling is the best thing in the world,” he promised. “You can take cuddling away from me when you pry it from my cold, dead hands.”
I grinned as Lex groaned. Thankfully, our server picked that moment to take our orders.
“I’ll have the Shrimp Creole,” I said. “An iced tea is good, too, please.”
The server nodded. “I’ll have the roast beef po-boy and fries,” Jack said. “Iced tea works for me, too.” His eyes turned to Charlie expectantly. “What about you, my little cuddle bug?”
Charlie beamed at him, but I could only shake my head. They were ridiculous. Of course, they were basically newlyweds. They would probably cool down in a few months.
Oh, who was I kidding? They weren’t going to cool down. This was how they were built. They were going to stay that way forever, and it wasn’t nearly as gross as I wanted to pretend. They were cute.
“I will have the muffaletta and fries,” Charlie said, her eyes moving to me. “Would a local order that?”