Chapter 3 #2
"Big time." Genevieve sighed. "I couldn't deal with it. I was determined to get my career to take off and knew that I had to get away from him. But he's convinced that he's responsible for my start."
"Just the opposite."
"Exactly." Genevieve stood and paced. "Controlling set lists was bad enough. But he was manipulative and often made me feel cornered and vulnerable."
Abe felt simmering anger over the way she'd been treated, but he bit his tongue and continued to listen. "After you left, did you have any contact?"
"That's what was weird," Genevieve said. "At first, he was furious. But there wasn't anything he could do. I think once I married my husband, that was a deterrent. But I heard about Jason."
"What kind of stuff?"
"There were articles in entertainment publications, and social media threads about him." Genevieve looked thoughtful. "A few times there were mentions of his aggressive behavior toward rival musicians or competing bands."
Abe made a mental note to search for earlier articles or mentions. "But he didn't contact you?"
"He appeared involved in his own career, and he certainly had high aspirations," Genevieve said. "He acted like he was owed success, if you know what I mean. And I hadn't heard from him until recently."
"And now he has his own record label," Abe said. "I'm curious about how he achieved that so rapidly. From what you shared, tactics like bullying and intimidation might have been his leverage."
"Sure, that's his personality." Genevieve plopped onto the sofa. "And now he has reared his ugly head in my life again. I hate that. It had been so long that I figured he was gone for good. Oh, sure, we're in the same industry. But that didn't mean our paths had to cross."
"He has no right to harass you." Abe resisted the urge to hug her. "He's out of line and pushing a few legal boundaries. I intend to rein him in. He won't be bugging you much longer, if I have anything to say about it."
For a moment, Abe thought Genevieve was going to kiss him. "Do you have a show later?"
"I'm off tonight." Genevieve smiled. "I could work on some new songs."
Abe made an instant decision. "How about we get out of here instead? There's no reason you have to stay locked up in your condo."
She brightened. "What did you have in mind?"
"Let me take you to dinner," he said, feeling more confident as her smile widened. "There's a place in the French Quarter called Olde Nola Cookery. The chef makes great Creole and Cajun food. Nothing fancy, just good food and atmosphere."
"Nola's is a perfect choice. We don't have to dress up." Genevieve stood, her movements fluid and graceful. "Give me a couple of minutes."
She disappeared into her bedroom, and Abe heard drawers opening and closing. When she emerged a few minutes later, she'd changed into a flowing dress that skimmed her curves. She carried a light jacket over her arm.
"Ready?" he asked, standing.
"More than ready." She grabbed her purse and keys. "It's still early. We can stroll for a while then have drinks at the Bourbon Street Bar. Are you allowed to drink?"
Abe chuckled. "I can today. I'm technically not on duty."
As they left the condo together, Abe felt a shift in their dynamic. This wasn't just about protection anymore. This was about two people who were drawn to each other, choosing to spend time together because they wanted to, not just because circumstances demanded it.
And for the first time since his divorce, Abe found himself looking forward to a date.
*****
It was early, so Bourbon Street wasn't as crowded as it would be later, when the rowdy partiers showed up. Abe appreciated the city's unique energy and was familiar with the ambience.
Genevieve seemed to enjoy herself. She appeared at home walking past the lush courtyards and colorful facades. She looked up at a cast-iron balcony of one the French-styled buildings.
"I never tire of this city," she said. "The bright colors and vibrant atmosphere are soothing to the mood."
Just before they crossed the street, Abe reached for her hand.Meeting no objection, he continued to hold hands as they strolled. He could hear music coming from the bars and restaurants along the street.
Genevieve swung their hands as if joyful. "You know, I've performed at the Bourbon Street Bar before."
"I wondered."
"It's been a while, but it's a great place."
Abe led her inside the Drinkery at the Bourbon Street Bar. It was known for craft beers, and he'd been there many times. "What will you have?"
Genevieve leaned against the wooden bar. "I'll have Purple Haze. I like fruit beers."
Abe ordered a dark lager called Voodoo and her beer. The bartender was speedy delivering them. Abe guided her past the other customers and found a seat where they could sip their drinks.
The place was already loud with customers drinking and laughing. Plus, there was a singer on stage warming up. Abe watched Genevieve savor her beer. She drank it like wine, one tiny sip at a time.
Abe took a big swig of his lager. It really hit the spot. Talking was at a minimum, since it was difficult to hear each other. But he discovered it was pleasurable just to sit with her. He didn't feel the urge to fill every moment with conversation.
It wouldn't take much for him to fall for Genevieve. She touched his heart, but more than that, he liked her. That was something special. Friendship was underrated, and he felt like they were friends, although he hoped for more.
While drinking her beer, Genevieve smiled at Abe. He was glad to see her happy and intended to make that a regular occurrence. He wondered if that was a sign that he was falling for her, but brushed that thought aside.
Genevieve held up her empty glass and rubbed her stomach. She said, exaggerating her pronunciation, "I'm starving ."
Abe couldn't hear her very well but could read her lips. He downed his last drop and stood to offer his arm. She grinned and linked her arm with his.
Nola's was close by. Genevieve hummed as she made her way down the street by his side. "Are you enjoying yourself?"
Abe hadn't thought about it, but he was. "Is it that obvious?"
Genevieve laughed then took his hand and pulled him through the entrance of Nola's to a table in the main dining room. It was a casual place with self-seating. The aroma of spices enveloped him.
He sat across from her, noticing that she was staring at him. "What?"
"Nothing," she said. "It's just that you look good in street clothes. I mean…I've mostly seen you in your uniform."
"We'll have to change that," Abe said, not even sure what he meant by that.