Silence hung heavy between them and despite the hot humidity, a shiver ran down Nick’s spine. He quickly shook it off and blamed it on the sip of iced cafe au lait he just swallowed.
"Nick?"
"Yes, I'm here. Please continue."
"Despite the story, my great grandma wore a different dress for her wedding. Her husband was struck and killed by horse and carriage on Canal Street, just one day after their baby daughter was born."
Nick decided to spare a thought for great granddaddy when he crossed Canal Street.
"And then their daughter—my grandma—did wear the gown. Not only did grandpa live, but when they moved to Ohio they were blessed with good fortune, too. But then, inexplicably, my mom did not wear it. And you know what happened to my father." Julia said with such foreboding that Nick had no choice but to remember the salt mine accident yet again.
"Oh Nick!" she gushed in such a suddenly bright tone that Nick jumped. "Don't you think New Orleans would be a beautiful place to visit someday? Wouldn't it be so romantic?"
Her voice held such open longing that Nick suddenly regretted his iced cafe au lait and beignets from Cafe Du Monde down the street. He was regretting the hotel’s lovely courtyard and his elegant room, elaborately decorated in a surprising yet delightful blend of Louis XIV and art deco styles. He was second guessing the late afternoon stroll he planned to take around Jackson Square, followed by an evening traipse down Bourbon Street. He frowned and picked at his beignet. "Yeah, it would be romantic. I'd love to visit here, uh, New Orleans with you.
"Oh, I'd like to see St. Louis sometime, too," she assured him.
Nick was immensely thankful they had not yet combined bank and credit card accounts. Julia wouldn't know his car was sitting in long term parking at the Detroit airport or that he'd purchased airfare to the Big Easy, or that he'd reserved a room in the kind of place they often talked about running away to for a romantic weekend. He hoped this trip down south wouldn't be for nothing. The trail of the actual dress had gone cold in Detroit, but if he could commission a decent changeling then all would be worthwhile.
"Nick?" Julia asked at his prolonged silence.
"Yeah, honey, I'm here."
"That game we played yesterday afternoon. I'd like to try it again, after you get home."
"You would?" Nick perked up.
"Yes. I was thinking we could use our cell phones...and um, you could sit in the car out in the garage, and I could be upstairs in our bed. And then, you know, after things got hot and heavy, you could come on up. You could maybe pretend you caught me on the phone with another guy, and, um, punish me."
Nick fumbled and dropped his remaining bit of beignet onto the cobblestones, powdered sugar sprinkling his lap. Pigeons honed in and a moment later his snack was flying across the French Quarter.
"Nick? I mean, if you don't want to do that...I'm not saying I want to be with another guy. You're the only guy I ever want to be with, but I just thought it might be fun to pretend. And really, you would be both guys. The guy on the phone, like, maybe he would be the Good Nick, and then the guy who bursts through the door to punish me, he would be the Bad Nick, but in a really good way, and..." Julia trailed off, sputtering.
"No, no, honey. I don't mind giving you a threesome, so to speak. I think I'm man enough. In fact, I'm looking forward to it." And he was. He had to shift his street map from the table onto his lap to keep from being indecent when an elderly couple strolled by. Nick noticed the gold bands gleaming on their linked fingers and felt a pang in his chest.
"Good," Julia sounded relieved that her idea was well received. "Hey, will you take a picture of the Arch for me?"
"Oh, uh, sure," Nick lied, deciding his camera phone battery would be dead at the time he supposedly visited the Arch. "Listen, I've got to go. It's almost time for my appointment. Love you."
Julia hung the phone up and turned to face a handsome man on the other side of the cash register. "Oh! I didn't hear you come in!" she stammered, praying he only just walked in the door.
"I've been in here for fifteen minutes." He grinned wickedly and waggled his dark brows, narrowing his sharp blue eyes. "But you were too absorbed in your very interesting conversation to notice I was browsing on the other side of the shop." He set a few books beside the register.
“Um, yeah…I’m sorry, I didn’t know anyone was in here.” Her face on fire, Julia began ringing up the books, fumbling like she had ten thumbs.
“Your fiancé, I take it?” The man pointed at Julia’s ring.
“Huh?” She looked up startled, still not used to the idea of having a fiancé. “Oh, yes, that was him, my fiancé.” She started stuffing the books into a paper bag, silently cursing when she bent the dusk jackets.
“He’s in St. Louis? Tracking down a voodoo cursed family heirloom. That’s a very interesting pursuit. But I have to tell you, if I were him, I wouldn’t be leaving a pretty girl like you home alone.” He leaned his elbows on the counter, continuing to ply his grin.
Julia took a defensive side step behind the register. “I’m sorry. That was meant to be a private conversation and I do apologize. Your total is $41.34.” She tried to concentrate on the transaction, hating that this stranger knew Nick was out of town and hating that her business card with her name proudly embossed in tall block letters was easily within his view. It wasn’t hard to remember the name Julia Ellery and it wasn’t hard to find it in the phonebook either, right along with her address, where she would be snuggled in her bed tonight in an otherwise empty house.
“My name is Alberic Bontecou, by the way.” He handed over his credit card, proving the very elegant name.
Julia looked up, surprised. “You’re French?”
“Oui, by way of New Orleans, just like you it would seem.”
“Huh. It would seem.” Despite grudgingly having her interest piqued, Julia was still very uncomfortable and embarrassed. She swiped the card, and wished it wasn’t one of those days when the machine was running agonizingly slow.
“In fact,” Alberic Bontecou continued, unconcerned over Julia’s supposed indifference, “I lived in New Orleans right up until Katrina. My brother lives in Cleveland, so I ended up here in Ohio. I think about going back home all the time. Sure would be lonely though. Most of my friends are now scattered across the country.”
“If you’ll just sign here, this is your copy of the receipt.” Julia pushed the slips of paper and a pen in his direction. He jotted his name and she wished he’d be on his way or that another customer would walk in and demand immediate attention. She pushed his bag of books closer to his hand and in doing so nudged the business card holder so that it was no longer facing his direction. “Well, good luck, Mr. Bontecou, with whatever you decide to do. I’m sure you’d make new friends in New Orleans if you returned.”
“Yes, I’m sure I would.” He turned so that one hip was leaning against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested—I mean—I know you have a fiancé, but I don’t suppose you’d be interested in catching the ferry over to Put-In-Bay with me this evening? I saw on the sign that your shop closes at five, and the ferry runs pretty late in the summer, so I hear. I’m not trying to take you on a date, but I’m in this area for a few days on my own, doing the tourist thing before I head back to Cleveland, and it would be nice to have some company for an evening. I’ve never been to Put-in-Bay. That’s on South Bass Island, yes?”
Julia thought about telling him that a man who looked like him would have absolutely no problem finding company in any one of the many raucous bars on the island, but instead she found herself thinking about how neat it would be to pick this fellow’s brain about living in New Orleans. He must have so many good stories, so much information. “Um, yes, South Bass Island is correct. But we can’t take a ferry directly there from Marblehead. We’d have to go over to Sandusky or Catawba.”
“I thought I passed a ferry dock just one block down.”
&nb
sp; “You did, but they go to Kelleys Island. We could take the ferry to Kelleys, and then hop another boat from there to Put-In-Bay. It would take a little longer than just driving to Sandusky or Catawba by car…” she reached under the counter and pulled out a ferry schedule to study.
“So it’s a date then? I mean, not a date but a plan. It’s a plan?”
Julia looked up, hesitated and then shrugged. She hadn’t been over to the islands yet this season, and she always loved going. What harm could come of it? “Sure. It’s a plan.”
“Good.” Alberic tapped the ferry schedule with one finger. “I’d like to leave from right here in Marblehead, so lets take the ferry to Kelleys Island and then from there to Put-In-Bay. Should I pick you up at home,” he snagged one of her cards out of the holder and peered at the name, “Julia Ellery?”
Julia felt another moment of trepidation. “No, no. If you want to come back here at five, when I’m closing shop, we can leave from here.”
“That sounds good. I’ll see you then.” He started for the door.
“Okay. See you then, Mr. Bontecou.”
He looked over his shoulder and he stepped out the door. “Call me Al.”
NICK couldn’t believe his good fortune upon leaving the seamstress’ shop. The woman had carefully studied the photograph of the dress and had been so moved by the story of the missing family heirloom—he edited out the bit about the curse—that she offered to immediately start adapting a gown she’d already started, promising to Fed Ex it to him by the end of the week. Now heading in the direction of Bourbon Street, he was excited at the prospect of having a changeling gown to present to Julia. She’d never have to know it wasn’t the real deal, and maybe they’d even come to New Orleans for their honeymoon!
Nick found Bourbon Street delightfully seedy. The street was blocked to traffic, allowing beer guzzling revelers draped in plastic beads to stumble from bars to restaurants to strip clubs. An icy beer appealed to him on such a sultry night, so Nick slipped down a cobblestone pathway between two buildings, following neon signs to a minuscule, outdoor bar.
After sitting at the bar and ordering a Michelob, he glanced across the small courtyard, dimly lit by tiki torches and a few iron lampposts. Just as he was thinking that this courtyard held none of the charm of the one at his hotel, his gaze fell upon an exotic beauty lounging amid colorful silk pillows and flickering votive candles. Draped in blue and green veils, only her delicate hands and feet, lovely face, and the tops of her amble breasts were visible. Even her head was covered, though judging by her eyebrows and cinnamon complexion, Nick knew her hair would be so black it would shine blue. His secret and long forgotten crush on Disney’s Princess Jasmine came rushing back as fast as the blood to his cock.
The bartender—chubby and very odorous in a sweat stained wife beater—slid Nick’s beer to him, leaning close enough that Nick had to hold his breath. “She’s something, ain’t she? You’d think she wouldn’t get any business being tucked away in this courtyard, but people wander back here all the time for her. I’m the one with the sign out on the sidewalk, but she gets more business than I do. It’s bullshit.”
Nick swigged his beer and glanced at the man. “What kind of business is she in, exactly?” Visions of harem girls undulated in his head and further hardened his cock. He decided to buy Julia a belly dancing costume just as soon as he got home.
“She’s a fortune teller.”
“Ah. Of course she is.”
“Don’t sound so skeptical, pal. Six months ago, after refusing for a year to acknowledge my existence over here, she marched her tight little ass up to the bar and announced that I was going to be a daddy. Then she wiggled back to her little candles and prissy pillows and wouldn’t say another word on the matter. I went home that night to find my girlfriend crying over a pregnancy test. My son is due in seven more weeks.”
“Congratulations,” Nick said with sincerity.
“Yeah, right. Thanks.” The bartender rolled his eyes.
Nick frowned, unable to relate. If Julia got pregnant he’d be thrilled. The only thing that would thrill him more would be if she were pregnant and his wife.
“Uh oh, buddy. She’s got her eye fixed on you. Last time I saw that look on her face she dropped a doozey in my lap. Better run while you have the chance.”
Nick glanced back to see the fortuneteller heading his way with a gleam in her dark eyes and a sultry smirk tugging at her lush red lips.
THE Beer Barrel Saloon, home to the longest bar in the world, was packed elbow to elbow by the time Julia and Alberic reached the island and made their way into town. She allowed her new friend to take her by the elbow and lead her to the far end of the bar, though she doubted the noisy location was the best place to talk.
“Are you sure you want to try this place?” she called to him over the din. “There are some quieter spots just down the street.”
Alberic glanced at her and merely grinned, so Julia shrugged. She’d hoped to have a chance to get to know a bit more about his life in New Orleans and tried talking to him on the ferry, but he kept changing the subject. His questions about her personal life had become slightly invasive, and her squirming on the ferry had had more to do with becoming uncomfortable with his company than seasickness.
“Here we are, ma cherie.” Alberic nudged her down onto the stool and hailed the harried bartender before sitting himself.
Julia frowned at the endearment as she perched on the stool, clutching her purse in her lap. Her knees drew tighter together when Alberic’s relaxed sprawl had his thigh falling open against hers. When the bartender appeared he ordered a beer and then glanced at Julia. “I’ll just have a Coke.”
“Ah now come on. Have some fun. Your fiancé won’t mind.”
Julia wasn’t so sure about that. Normally, no, Nick wouldn’t mind her going out with friends for drinks. But she’d only just met Alberic and his manner toward her was becoming increasingly suspicious. “I just want a Coke.”
Alberic shrugged and the bartender started away, but then Alberic stopped him. “Bring the lady a shot of Jack as well, just in case.”
“Oh no, that’s not nec-” but the man was gone. “That’s not necessary,” she said instead to Alberic.
“You don’t have to drink if you don’t want it, Julia.”
She nodded, pressing her lips together in a grim line. She cast her eyes about the dim bar. The place was packed and would be all summer. She looked at the dance floor and remembered meeting Nick there for the first time the previous summer. She’d been with a group of her closest friends and he had a date. Nonetheless, their eyes were glued to each other the whole night.
Alberic turned to Julia. “So, you wanted to know about New Orleans? What would you like to know?”
Julia perked up and swiveled on her stool. Finally! He was ready to discuss what had her willing to come with him in the first place. “Well for starters, I--”
The bartender reappeared and set the drinks before them. After paying, Alberic took a long drink from his bottle and gestured at the crowded dance floor, knocking her purse from her lap as he did so.
“You like dancing?”
Julia hopped from her stool, retrieving her purse from under the bar while Alberic fussed over the drinks. “Sure, I like it,” Julia said, climbing back onto her stool with purse in hand. “But you must be a jazz fan, right? New Orleans is famous for its jazz.”
“Jazz, oh but of course. There’s lots of good jazz clubs on Bourbon.”
Julia was about to question him further about that when he suddenly stood and downed the remainder of his beer.
“Come on, Julia, finish your drink and let’s dance.”
“Oh no, I really don’t think--”
Alberic held out his hands, palms up. “What would one dance hurt? I’ll be going back to Cleveland tomorrow so you’ll never see me again. You’ve come all this way to Put-in-Bay with me, so you might as well dance. Drink your drink and let’s have some fun
.”
Julia continued to hesitate.
“When your fiancé comes home you can go to bed with him knowing you had an opportunity you didn’t take full advantage of. You just had a little harmless fun.”
She mulled that over. He did have a point there. All he was offering was harmless fun.
“Here,” he dumped the shot of Jack into her Coke and pushed it into her hand, “bottoms up.”
What the hell? “Sure, bottoms up!” Her cell rang just as she began lifting her glass to her lips. She fished the phone from her purse and glanced at the caller ID. “Excuse me, please. I’ll be just a moment.”
Alberic nodded and Julia made her way out of the bar to the quieter sidewalk where she flipped open the phone.
“Nick?”
“Julia, where are you? Who are you with? Are you okay?”
“What? Yes, I’m fine. Nick, what’s wrong?
“Where are you, Julia? Is everything Okay?”
“I, well, I’m at Put-In-Bay with a customer from my shop. But I promise Nick, it’s not a date, I just thought it would be nice to come over to the island and have a drink. It’s not a date!” she reiterated, fearing he’d view her evening out as cheating. And then a new thought occurred to her. “How did you know I’d gone out tonight?”
In New Orleans, Nick exchanged a look with the bartender and then glanced over his shoulder at the fortuneteller. She was back on her fancy pillows, studiously bent over the palm of a drunken tourist.
“I just had a hunch something was wrong.” What could he say? That a super sexy fortuneteller had sashayed his way, leaning against him and tickling his ear with her warm breath? It had been enough to make any man’s temperature rise, but her words left his blood cold: “Your lover is in danger. You’d better make sure she’s safe.”
He demanded details, wanting to know why she thought so, but she simply smiled and returned to her pillows. Nick looked to the bartender for help but the man only shrugged, saying, “You’d better call your broad, buddy.”
Better Unwed Than Dead Page 3
