by L A Morgan
Maria tried to hide the smile that danced behind her lips when she said, “You’ll do.”
“Bold words, my girl. Would you care to take a little walk along the river?”
“I’ve done enough walking for you.”
“This time, you’ll walk with me.”
After saying this, the man got to his feet and crooked out his elbow in invitation. Maria stood up beside him. For the first time, she could see that his eyes were a deep blue color. The glint in them mocked at her for not taking his arm. Maria quickly remedied this situation, and they strolled off to the right along the levee.
Her body tingled where it made contact with the man’s. He seemed to exude a certain vibrancy that pulsed through her like an electric current. In the daylight, she got a better look at his costume, if you could call it that. He wore the same black satin cape he had worn the night before, but beneath it, he wore a plain black business suit, white shirt, and black tie. If he removed the cloak, all vestiges of the masquerade would be gone.
Maria suddenly realized he had been talking to her for several seconds before she caught the gist of what he was saying. She focused in to hear him say, “. . . and this is called Jackson Square in honor of President Andrew Jackson, who was also a former mayor of New Orleans. Have you heard all this before?”
“No, this is my first trip to New Orleans. Please, go on.”
“If you had come in March, you would have been able to see the azaleas in bloom, but I suppose you have azaleas in Illinois. You did say you were from Illinois; didn’t you?”
“Yes. I guess I did.”
“Do you live near Chicago?”
“As a matter of fact, I live in a small community on the outskirts of the city. Are you familiar with Chicago?”
“Not really,” the man vaguely replied. “Do you plan to stay here long?”
“I don’t know yet,” answered Maria. “I’d like to see all of Mardi Gras.”
“What would prevent you from staying?”
“It’s some business I have to take care of.”
“Here or at home?”
“Here. If things don’t work out right, I’ll have to leave.”
“Is this modelin’ business?”
“No. It’s personal.”
“Anything I might help you with?”
“Thank you, but no.”
Maria was becoming discomforted by all of the man’s questions. He seemed to sense this, for he said, “I won’t pry any more.”
Just as the young woman was breathing a silent sigh of relief, he continued, “There is one personal question I’d like to ask you.”
Maria shuddered inside, fearing it might be something she would be unable or unwilling to answer. In spite of her reservations, she said, “What is it?”
“Is Mardi Gras the only reason you wanted to be here?”
“Why else would I have made the trip?”
“That’s what I’m askin’ you.”
Now, Maria felt completely flustered, wondering if her face would ever stop burning when she was with this man. She’d always believed that honesty was indeed the best policy, and now it appeared that she had put herself in the position of having to invent one lie after another. How could this have happened because of one innocent, little masquerade?
She finally replied, “I can’t think of any other reason for me to come here other than a desire to see Mardi Gras.”
“And that was your only desire?” the man asked, putting a coy emphasis on that final word.
“You said you would ask only one more question and that makes two,” Maria impulsively counterstroked.
“Touché, mademoiselle.”
Feeling somewhat awed by his soignée, the librarian felt the need to add, “Of course, I’d like to stay and see more of the attractions in New Orleans. It seems to be a fascinating city with all of this old world charm. It feels like a page out of a dream.”
“How poetic, butterfly.”
Bluffly moving on, Maria said, “I believe you owe me an answer to a personal question of my own.”
She looked up when she said this to catch the man’s reaction.
“What would that be?”
“You never told me your name.”
“Now, that’s getting’ too personal,” he replied with a grin that touched his eyes more than his lips.
“You won’t tell me?”
“You’re unwrappin’ all the layers of my mystery, but I’ll answer you anyway. My name is Steve.”
“Steve,” Maria mused to herself. “It suits you.”
“As Maria suits you.”
“I always thought it was too glamorous.”
“For a model like you? Isn’t glamour the essence of your lifestyle?”
“I suppose it is,” the girl answered briefly to cover up the lapse in her facade.
“Tell me of all the wonderful places you’ve visited throughout the world, Maria.”
“I don’t want to talk about anything business-related now. Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”
“There’s nothin’ much to tell that wouldn’t bore you. I’m not married, if that’s what you were wonderin’.”
“The thought never crossed my mind,” Maria smoothly lied.
“You seem to be very different today.”
“In what way?”
“Last night, you seemed to be so innocent and fearful. Why did you act that way?”
“It must have been my reaction to that man on the levee.”
“But that character seemed to suit you so well.”
“As did yours.”
“Mine? How so?”
“You seemed so mysterious . . . dangerous, threatening, almost.”
“It must have been the spirit of the masquerade. Perhaps I was inspired by your sense of helplessness.”
“Well, I like you better the way you are now.”
“Beware, little butterfly,” the man replied, as he looked at Maria with a forbidding look in his eyes. “You don’t know which character is truly mine.”
“Are you trying to frighten me again?” Maria asked, once again feeling that sense of intimidation set in.
“Let’s put it this way. I’m sure you can trust me just as much as I can trust you.”
This answer did not satisfy Maria at all. She would have pondered over the subject further, but Steve spoke again.
“Have you had your lunch?”
“No.”
“I know a nice, quiet restaurant where we can go.”
“A nice, noisy restaurant would do just as well,” Maria replied, once again feeling mistrustful of the man.
“Wouldn’t you like to go someplace that tourists don’t know about?”
“I am a tourist, and I’d like to do tourist-type things, if it’s all the same to you.”
“That doesn’t bother me. There’s a world-famous restaurant a few blocks away.”
“Excuse me, Steve,” Maria interrupted. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I can’t go to any expensive restaurants with you.”
“Why not?”
“For one thing, I’m on a limited budget.”
“I intended to pay for your meal.”
“That’s the second reason I can’t go with you. I don’t know you that well, and to be blunt, I don’t want to put myself in the position of having to owe you any large debts of gratitude.”
Steve was silent for a moment, and then he replied, “Would that compromise your ethics or do you find me unattractive?”
“The first,” Maria replied in a small voice.
“I can live with that,” Steve coolly returned. “I find it refreshin’.”
“As long as I didn’t damage your ego.”
“That would be veritably impossible. Did you happen to notice that large building we passed a little while ago, the Brewery?”
“Not really.”
Steve stopped walking, and Maria unlinked her arm from his.
“Well, th
ey have one floor devoted to inexpensive international cuisine, served cafeteria-style. Would that suit your standards of propriety?”
“Only if I can pay my own way.”
“You’ve already abused me enough. I’ll pay and say no more on the subject.”
Turning back in the direction from which they had come, Steve pulled Maria’s arm back through his again before they walked on.
“Are you always this domineering?” she felt compelled to ask, but in a light tone.
“No. I’m usually far worse.”
“Are all New Orleans men like this?”
“I don’t know all of the men in this town.”
“In a way, you’ve come to personify New Orleans for me.”
“That would be unfair to the others.”
“Would you happen to know . . .” Maria stopped herself just before she reached the boundary of indiscretion.
“Yes? You were sayin’?”
“Never mind. Some things are better left unsaid.”
“Now, you’re the one who’s being mysterious.”
“A woman should have some mystery about her.”
“Exactly how much mystery do you think it takes to keep a man interested?”
“That would involve a complicated answer.”
“I have plenty of time.”
They discussed the relative merits of mystery until they arrived at their destination. After Maria ordered some specialties of New Orleans cuisine with advice from Steve, he ordered his own meal, and they sat down at a table by the window that overlooked the river. Maria could not help glancing frequently at the waterborne traffic.
“The Mississippi seems to fascinate you,” Steve commented between mouthfuls.
“This whole town does. I’ve always dreamed of being here.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s the history involved. Being in the French Quarter is almost like being in a foreign country. It’s all so romantic.”
“Is romance important to you?”
“I never thought about it that way, but I suppose it is.”
“Let me ask you this, Maria. If you could describe your perfect romantic scenario, what would it be?”
“I’d have to think about that.”
“Don’t take too long.”
“All right. I’ve got it. This may sound crazy to you, but I like those old desert stories where the sheik carries the maiden off to his tent.”
“That tells me a lot about you.”
“Then, I’ve said too much. I had hoped to be amusing, not revealing.”
“Weren’t you being serious?”
“I don’t know what to say any more, Steve’.”
“Just be truthful.”
“I have a feeling that could get me into trouble . . . with you.”
“You’re already in deeper trouble than you know, my girl.”
“What do you mean by that?” Maria asked, suddenly feeling that the banter had become somewhat less playful.
“You might be toyin’ with the emotions of a dangerous man.”
“Are you talking about yourself?”
“Is there another man in your life?”
“If you’re asking me if I have a boyfriend right now, the answer is no, and that includes you. You’ve asked me a lot of questions, but you haven’t told me much about yourself at all.”
“What would you like to know?”
“It’s hard to decide where to begin. For all I know, you’re as much of a tourist here as I am.”
“I’m not a tourist, Maria.”
“Do you live here or are you here on vacation?”
“I live here.”
“How old are you?”
“Now, you’re getting direct. I’m thirty-two. What else do you want to know?”
“After asking me that question in that tone of voice, I’m afraid to ask you anything else.”
“Then, I’ll ask you somethin’. Are you afraid of me?”
“In a way, I am.”
“So, why are you sittin’ here, havin’ lunch with me? You could have shaken me off at any time this afternoon. For that matter, you didn’t even have to show up for our date. Why did you come?”
“Would you believe me if I told you I had nothing better to do?”
“Try again.”
“All right. You intrigue me.”
“Please explain that.”
“I’ve never met anyone like you before. I meant it when I said you frighten me, but there’s something about you. Maybe it’s just the circumstances under which we met; I’m not sure. I’ve led a rather sheltered life, and I find you exciting.”
“Are you lookin’ for a vacation romance, Maria?”
“I’m not that kind of person.”
“Then, what is your ultimate goal? Marriage?”
“Only if I find the right man.”
“How would you describe this person?”
“You’re very inquisitive, Steve.”
“If it offends you, I’ll ask you no more questions.”
“No, it’s all right. I just wondered why you had so much interest in me.”
“I could give you an answer that would be trite, but instead I’ll say this; you intrigue me, too.”
They were silent for a moment as Maria considered his words.
Then Steve went on, “Are you goin’ to answer my question about Mr. Right?”
Maria placed her fork on her plate and delicately wiped her mouth with her napkin. The man waited patiently.
“You mentioned something that might be trite a moment ago,” Maria finally answered, “and maybe that’s how you might describe my answer. I’m not really looking for a husband. I’m hoping we will find each other. The man I imagine does not have to be handsome, but I would like him to be honest and giving. By that, I mean giving of himself. Open. Communicative. I don’t need to be showered with expensive gifts; in fact, I don’t want any gifts at all unless they’re given from the heart. I want a man who will love me for myself, and not try to change me. I want his respect and I want his fidelity. Most important of all, I want his love, totally and forever.”
“Good Lord, you are a determined person!”
“Why do you say it like that? Do you think I’m asking for too much?”
“Too little and too much at the same time. I can’t believe that anyone could be as noble as that.”
“Have you been hurt by a woman, Steve?”
“Yes,” the man bitterly replied. “You might say that.”
“Recently?”
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Was she your wife?”
“I told you I’m not married.”
“That says nothing about divorce.”
“I thought you said you weren’t goin’ to pry.”
“I’m sorry,” Maria immediately relented. “You made me curious.”
“Do you want to see me again, Maria?”
“I’d like to, but as I said, I might have to go home.”
“I would pay for you to stay here for a while if money is the problem.”
“That is the problem, but I couldn’t let you do that.”
“I know. We discussed this before, but I wanted to add there would be no strings attached.”
“It’s more than that, Steve. If I stayed here as your guest, I’d feel that I was taking advantage of your generosity.”
“Isn’t there any way that you could be convinced to take advantage of a man’s generosity, as you put it?”
This question hit too close to home for Maria. It was humiliating for her to think that she was doing just that right now by accepting Tienne DuPont’s hospitality under false pretences.
“I wouldn’t like to do that,” she finally answered in an unsteady voice.
“But, you would if there were extenuatin’ circumstances?” Steve persisted.
“I’m not going to discuss this any further,” Maria flatly replied. “If I can see you again, I will
.”
“It sounds like you’re a person who never lies.”
“I’m no saint, Steve. I’ve lied at times.”
“To me?”
Maria sighed and her face took on a sad expression.
“If you want to know the truth . . .” she began.
Steve interrupted her in a forceful voice, saying, “I’ve gone too far with this. We’ve both admitted that we like to have that element of mystery about us, and I should have left it at that. It’s all part of the masquerade of Mardi Gras. Let’s not lose that enticin’ element in our relationship just now. You’ll have your secrets, and I’ll have mine. Okay?”
“If that’s the way you want it.”
Steve stood up and Maria picked up her purse and camera to join him. They walked back to the waterfront in thoughtful silence. A calliope on a paddleboat that was docked near them began to play. Maria looked at it longingly.
“I’d hoped that I could have taken a ride on one of those before I left,” she said musingly, more to herself than to Steve.
“We could take a sunset dinner cruise on that one, if you like,” the man replied.
“Oh, I didn’t want you to think I was hinting around for an invitation.”
“I already gave you an invitation. You just saved me the trouble of findin’ out what you wanted to do.”
“It would be lovely, but I think I already have another engagement this evening.”
“Business?”
“Personal.”
“With a man?”
“Yes, but it isn’t what you must be thinking. I don’t even know him.”
“That statement invites a question, but I hesitate to pry after all that’s been said.”
“I wish I could tell you about it, Steve, but I shouldn’t. Ask me anything else.”
The man turned to his right to look at the large bridge that spanned the waters of the Mississippi River.
In a faraway voice, he said, “Against my finer instincts, I find myself likin’ you, Maria.”
“Why do you say it like that?” the woman replied in perplexity. “Have you been hurt so badly that you hate all women?”
“I don’t hate them, but I can’t trust them.”
“You can trust me, Steve, leaving the desired amount of mystery aside. I won’t hurt you.”
“Sweet Maria,” the man said wistfully. “What is your last name?”
Maria hesitated, and then decided to play the charade to its fullest since this was all a game anyway.
