French Quarter Kisses

by Zuri Day

  “We’re riding in this?”

  Pierre smiled, opened her door, then jogged to the other side of the car and got in.

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see soon enough.”

  “Must be someplace special since we’re riding in style. Am I dressed okay?”

  “You look beautiful and don’t go there with your story, okay? Just accept the compliment.”

  “You’re right. I will. Thank you.”

  For the next thirty minutes, the two listened to music and shared small talk. Roz relaxed and decided to enjoy the evening. She even began to get excited about going out. That it was a Saturday night did make it special. She knew how much of a control freak Pierre could be in the kitchen, so for him to trust his sous chef on this busy night showed both his confidence in Riviera and his thoughtfulness toward her.

  Relaxing worked for a while. But the farther they traveled, the more confused she became. Until he exited the freeway.

  “We’re going to Ma’s?”

  Pierre reached out and grabbed her hand. “Can’t put anything past you, huh?”

  “You know I love Ma’s cooking, but really, Pierre? We skipped the exhibit for a bowl of jambalaya? The exhibit is on tour and only here for a weekend. We could eat at Ma’s anytime.”

  He said nothing, which rankled Roz even more.

  “Do you even know if she’s open? If there are no customers, Ma will close up.”

  “We’ll see.”

  She pouted in silence, taking in the drab surroundings of the Ninth Ward. Amid the deterioration and neglect, the Ferrari stood out like a beacon. Parking it in front of Ma’s humble abode made the contrast even starker.

  “I don’t know if driving this car here was a good idea.”

  “We’ll be fine.”

  Pierre got out of the vehicle and came around to her door. Roz leaned forward, her eyes narrowed as she checked out the house.

  “Did Ma paint her place?”

  “Looks like maybe she did.”

  “It’s nice. Looks like that might be a new screen door, too. Wait, is that a doorbell? Wow, Ma is going uptown!”

  Pierre opened the door and then moved back to let Roz enter. One step, and her jaw dropped. “Oh my God! Ma!”

  Ma came from the kitchen wearing a smile as white as her apron. “Who’s that making so much noise?”

  “Ma, your place! What...what happened?”

  “Your man there happened, that’s what.”

  Roz’s head whipped around. “You?” He nodded. “You!” She gave him a playful swat, then looked around a room totally different than what had been here before. Drab walls were now painted a bright yellow. Laminate flooring with a slate blue, pale yellow, gray and black geometric design replaced worn, gray carpeting. Plastic tables and chairs had been replaced by ones made of ebony wood. They were topped with black-and-white-checkered tablecloths, and mason jar centerpieces filled with glass beads and fabric flowers. Roz’s heart swelled as she took it all in.

  “Ah! The pictures!”

  Black-and-white photos in black frames decorated the walls. Pictures of Ma’s dishes, one of her hand holding a wooden spoon stirring a steamy concoction, one her signature red pail of crawfish and one of a newspaper-covered table littered with shells. It was all so unexpected Roz felt herself tear up.

  Pierre put an arm around her. “What do you think?”

  “I’m speechless.” She looked at Pierre, thought about how nasty she’d been on the way over. “Babe...”

  “Don’t worry about it. You didn’t know.”

  “This is amazing, Ma.”

  Ma’s eyes sparkled with pride. “This is the best part.” She crooked her finger for Roz to follow. They walked into the kitchen, where once again Roz was shocked. The small room had been totally updated and reconfigured to maximize the space. Top-of-the-line stainless appliances, large wooden cutting boards on quartz countertops. Sparkling copper and stainless pots and pans hung from a stainless and copper rack, ready to join the covered ones on the stove emitting aromas that made Roz’s mouth water.

  “Babe, this was so nice of you to do for Ma.”

  He shrugged. “It wasn’t much.”

  “It’s everything,” Ma corrected. “All I ever wanted,” she told Roz. “Which is why I told him that the only way I’d accept all of this kindness was if he made sure that he was my very first customer to eat in this new space. So I’m going to shoo you out of my kitchen. Go wash your hands!”

  Pierre and Roz settled at a corner table that offered a view of the entire room. She reached for his hands and clasped them. “You’re pretty amazing, you know that?”

  He popped an imaginary collar. “So I’ve been told.”

  They both laughed.

  “When did all this happen??”

  “Last week. Working in Ma’s kitchen showed me just how limiting that configuration was. That’s where the idea started. As she and I talked, and later, when I had my manager locate a designer, I realized that it wouldn’t cost that much more to redo the living/dining area, too. Ma was so appreciative, but not as much as I am for what she shared with me, her recipes and our shared history. That conversation is what brought me around to seeing my mom, began to thaw the ice around my heart. To bring someone that kind of happiness, I’d do it all over again.”

  Ma came out swinging her signature crawfish in one hand, a roll of newspaper under the other arm. Soon Pierre and Roz were twisting, sucking and chucking, wiping juice off their fingers and mouths. Steaming dishes of red beans and rice, jambalaya and Ma’s special sausage over steamed vegetables and rice were presented, washed down with ice-cold lemon water.

  Pierre ate most of the sausage dish, then put down his fork. “Okay, there is another reason I brought you here.”

  “What?”

  “Two, actually. I want you to go on the vacation with my family, and I want you to move in with me.”

  Roz shook her head. “The first family vacation should just be family, and as long as I can have unlimited visits to your place, I’m totally fine in my bungalow.”

  “But look at all the money you’ll save.”

  “Gotta make money to save money.”

  “You’re making my point. Why do some women have to be so independent that they refuse the offer when a man is trying to help them?”

  “You want to help me? Pay off my mortgage. The one to the house with the deed that has my name on it.”

  “Okay.”

  “Pierre, I’m kidding, and not trying to be difficult. I’m happy with you and life just the way it is. I’ve only been out of a job a short while. Once the holidays are over and people get back to business I’ll hit the streets in earnest and probably be back to work before January is over. In the meantime, I’m doing a little freelance. A little editing. I’ll be okay.”

  Ma came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on an apron. “Y’all want something else to drink?”

  Roz shook her head. “Water’s fine for me.”

  “What about you, Pierre?”

  “This is our first Saturday night date,” he said, with a wink at Roz. “Why don’t we mark the occasion with something bubbly?”

  “That’s sweet, babe, but I really don’t want a soda.”

  “Me either. I was thinking something grander, like champagne.”

  “Yeah, right. You redid her place but I don’t think Ma redid her menu.”

  Ma looked from Pierre to Roz and back. “Let me see what I can find.”

  “If you have something sweet, Ma, that would be great, too.”

  “I don’t see how you can eat another bite,” Roz said. “I’m stuffed.”

  “Just a bite is all I want.”

  Ma was gone only a moment. She returned with two helpings of praline cream, two crystal fl
utes and a bottle of premium champagne. “I don’t know much about the different brands. Will this one do?”

  Roz’s eyes widened. She looked at Pierre, took in the smirk on his face. “What are you up to?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t sit over there acting innocent. One doesn’t simply stumble across a three-hundred-dollar bottle of champagne. You bought it, right?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Well, why not just say so? Why are you acting all...weird?” Roz picked up her spoon and dug into the dessert. “Have you had this, Pierre? It is my absolute favorite!”

  “You’re really going to like that bowl,” Ma said as she walked away. “I outdid myself this time.”

  Pierre opened the champagne, watching Roz devour the pie.

  “What happened to you wanting only one bite?”

  “Can’t do it with this,” Roz mumbled around a mouthful. She happily dug in for another spoonful, then froze.

  Pierre finished filling the glasses. “What’s the matter?”

  Roz leaned forward, with furtive glances toward the kitchen. “Don’t say anything, but I think there’s something in my dessert.”

  “Something in your dessert?” Pierre said loudly.

  “Pierre, I—” Roz’s teeth remained gritted as Ma hurried to the table.

  “Who said something was in their food?” Ma’s indignant look was accompanied by a hand on her hip. “I run a clean establishment here and take pride in my work. You’re not going to find anything in my food.”

  “I’m sorry, Ma. It’s just that...” Roz gingerly placed the spoon into the creamy, crumbling ensemble. She looked up apologetically. “There’s something in here, Ma.”

  “Well, what is it?”

  Roz scraped with her spoon until hitting what felt like the hard shell of a long-dead bug or crustacean. She placed her spoon beneath it, her stomach roiling as, with one eye closed and the other barely opened, she lifted the foreign object out of the bowl and quickly made an observation.

  Bugs didn’t sparkle. She screamed anyway. “Oh my God!”

  “There you go, child. A five-carat roach in your food.”

  Pierre burst out laughing as Ma sauntered back to the kitchen, her culinary reputation intact.

  “Pierre, what is this?”

  “A way to get you to go on vacation and move into my house.”

  Roz gave him a look.

  He smiled, pulled the ring from the spoon and wiped it off. “It’s the only way I could think of to convey how much you mean to me. The only way I could insure that the woman who came into my life, turned it upside down and then all the way around, never left it.”

  He stood, walked to her side of the table and placed one knee on the newly tiled floor. “So will you do it?”

  “Do what?” Roz whispered.

  Pierre huffed. “Move in, woman, and go on vacation!”

  “Pierre!” Roz laughed, and smacked his shoulder.

  “Quit playing in there and ask her nicely,” Ma commanded from the kitchen, yelling at Pierre just like a mother would.

  It couldn’t have been more perfect for Roz, and neither could his next four words.

  “Will you marry me?”

  She tilted her head as if to ponder the question. “I don’t know. A byline reading Rosalyn LeBlanc...”

  “Y’all are going to kill me in here,” Ma lamented, blatantly eavesdropping and unashamed.

  “Yes, babe. I’ll marry you.”

  The promise was sealed with a kiss.

  “Come on out here, Ma,” Roz shouted, “and bring another glass. Since you were a crucial part of the proposal, you might as well be a part of the toast.”

  * * *

  Pierre’s proposal was a memorable ending to a monumental year and the precursor to a new one filled with realignments, repercussions and revelations.

  Roz’s engagement announcement sent those closest to her over the moon. Stefanie had all but taken over the New Year wedding plans, delaying her own nuptials to do so. Lisette appointed herself as Stefanie’s assistant, only right she’d stated when asked, for the incredible party Roz organized for her.

  Roz didn’t mind. In fact she was grateful. Her hands were full working as an editor-at-large for a national magazine, a job that was landed following the article she’d written and submitted on the traveling art show she saw the day after Pierre’s engagement.

  After a random encounter at Café du Monde, Roz and Ginny reconnected. Through her Roz learned that the once-thriving paper she worked for was beginning to struggle. Papers stayed afloat largely through advertising and several major accounts had pulled their business. Roz would never wish anyone harm but couldn’t help thinking the downturn was Andy getting a dose of the karma he put out coming back to bite him. She also learned that he and Paige were indeed an item and had taken the relationship public. Their dating was of no surprise to Roz. She felt each was exactly what the other deserved.

  It was late February when Roz pulled Pierre’s Christmas gift into one of his garage’s six parking spaces. She’d felt the sleek, silver BMW a gift far more extravagant than she deserved or needed, but he had insisted, the same way he’d bugged her until she gave in and agreed to move into his home. A cute, young couple now enjoyed the bungalow she now owned and rented out.

  Roz exited the car and dashed toward the door as drops of rain began to fall. Once inside she entered the kitchen and noticed a beautifully wrapped gift box on the counter. Her intrigue with what it was doing there only increased as she looked at the tag and saw her name. She gently unwrapped the paper and removed the box’s lid. Inside was another box, a telltale Tiffany blue. She opened it and found a beautiful silver bracelet with a single, heart-shaped charm. She lifted it out of the box and noticed a message had been engraved.

  I won.

  “Won what?” Roz mumbled, as she undid the clasp and slipped the bracelet on her arm. Later, when Pierre came home, she found out the meaning. Which led to kisses in the Quarter, and so much more, all night long.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Guarding His Heart by Synithia Williams.

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  Guarding His Heart

  by Synithia Williams

  Chapter 1

  Kevin Koucky had no problem getting naked.

  Getting naked in a cold studio, in front of a cro
wd of mostly strangers, as part of the photo shoot for Sports Fitness magazine was an entirely different situation. He glanced at his publicist across the studio. Rod gave Kevin two thumbs-up while his always enthusiastic grin covered his thin face.

  Kevin answered with a half smile. Rod had been raving about this photo shoot ever since the magazine had called with the offer. Kevin’s naked body was about to grace the cover of a magazine hitting every magazine rack in the country. The “Bodies in Motion” issue, which paid homage to the various fitness levels of professional athletes, was the magazine’s most popular of the year. The cover spot was given to someone considered to be at the top of their game. Kevin had played professional basketball since he was eighteen and was proud of being considered an elite athlete chosen for the cover. Even if nature was slowly siphoning away his abilities.

  The representative for Sports Fitness walked over to him. The petite brunette had a friendly face underlaid with a fierce focus toward ensuring he was comfortable as they prepared for the shoot.

  “Okay, Kevin,” she said. “Jasmine is here, and she’s ready.”

  Kevin looked at his wrist to check the time. Realized a second later it wasn’t there because he was butt naked in a cold studio. They’d been waiting fifteen minutes for the diva photographer to make her way uptown and complete the shoot. He’d never meet Jasmine Hook before, but she was already getting on his nerves. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with an artist who had a self-importance complex and believed coming to a photo shoot late somehow increased her demand.

  “Oh, she finally decided to show up,” Kevin said, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

  The representative’s grin tightened. “Well, she had another appointment before this that ran long and then got caught in traffic.”

  Kevin looked skyward. “Yeah, I’m sure her time photographing models and actors provides her with plenty of perfect excuses for being fashionably late.” He’d heard enough about Jasmine to know she was the most sought-after fashion photographer in the nation. Why she was chosen for this shoot probably had more to do with her name than anything. He wouldn’t be surprised to find she was just as self-absorbed and obsessed with fashion as the people she photographed.