“You ready?” Noah asked, coming up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the top of her head. She tipped her head back to rest on his chest.
“I guess.”
So many things were racing through her head. The contest, her future. Her future with Noah. She sighed.
Noah gently turned her around. “Emily. Focus. You’re going to be fine.”
“I hope so.”
“You will. No matter what. C’mon, let’s go.” He kissed her forehead and grabbed the suitcases. Emily stopped to trail a hand along her mother’s quilt for luck, then followed Noah to the truck.
It was slowly getting dark as Noah chatted away during the short drive to New Orleans. He kept the conversation light and relaxed, and before Emily knew it, they were pulling into the hotel where she, Noah, Carly, and Joey would be staying.
Carly had booked rooms at the Gilded Lily. It had a reputation as a former bordello that was reportedly haunted by former workers and clients. The stories on the Internet fascinated Carly. Joey had talked her out of buying a ghost hunting kit she had found online.
Emily glanced around. She had no idea what a former bordello should look like, but if had looked like this, it had been a classy one.
Understated elegance was the best way to describe the lobby. Beige and blues dominated the color scheme. Fresh flowers, white lilies mostly, popped out of silver vases on the front desk, the entry tables, and even on the small end tables by the boxy sofas in the entry. Off-white statues of Greek gods rested on pedestals in corners. A massive glass and brass chandelier hung down from a painted mural on the ceiling.
Emily smiled as she noticed the scantily clad figures wrapped in green vines and twisted in semi-compromising positions.
The cool blonde behind the counter saw her smile. “That’s one of the accents we kept over the years. Why erase all the history?”
Emily shrugged. “Why, indeed?”
Noah finished checking in. “You ready to go put this stuff up?”
“Sure.”
Noah grabbed the bags and led the way to the room. When he opened the door, Emily’s eyes lit up. The room was beautiful. Ruby red velvet covered a massive four-poster bed made out of dark wood. Large red flowers bloomed from cream-colored wallpaper.
Emily crossed the room to the French doors draped in red velvet. A small wrought iron balcony overlooked the courtyard and pool area. Tropical plants with big red blooms were in clay pots on her balcony and littered around the courtyard.
“It’s beautiful, Noah.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he said.
She turned and saw a bouquet of gardenias on the dresser. She walked over and took a deep breath, inhaling their sweet fragrance.
“These are from you?” Emily asked.
“Yes, they are. It’s your weekend, Em. I’m going to pamper you.”
Emily smiled and hugged him.
“Thank you, Noah.”
“You’re very welcome,” he said, lifting her chin with a finger and kissing her gently.
“Why don’t you freshen up a bit and we’ll go down to the bar for a drink?”
Emily smiled. “That sounds great.”
Emily plucked a bloom from the bouquet and held it to her nose.
“How would you feel about starting that pampering now, Noah?” she asked, smiling.
He smiled back. “Oh, I think I could do that.”
He took the flower from her hand and tucked it behind her ear. He gathered her into his arms and kissed her.
“Happy hour can wait,” he said, smiling.
“It depends on your definition of happy hour, doesn’t it?” she said as Noah led her to the bed.
***
Emily, Noah, Joey, and Carly entered the dark bar off Bourbon Street. Grace had returned to New Orleans and was playing in the band. Carly smiled as the band started a rousing rendition of Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me.” Emily couldn’t help but smile as well. Joey and Noah headed to the bar to grab some drinks, and Carly and Emily looked for a table that would seat all four of them. Finding none, they headed to the back where a second bar area was.
They spotted two empty bar stools. Emily and Carly grabbed those up. Noah and Joey could stand for a while until they either decided to go somewhere else or someone moved.
Soon, Noah and Joey had located them and were standing with the women.
Because the bar was located away from the band, the noise level was a bit lower, allowing for more conversation. Emily was chatting away with Carly about the bar when she saw Noah’s eyes widen.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He looked at her then looked down at his leg. The woman seated next to them was rubbing his leg, or his thigh, rather. Emily looked over at the woman. She sat with a gentleman, but that didn’t seem to deter her.
Emily ran her hands along Noah’s back and gave the woman a look. The woman nodded and smiled, then returned her hand to her husband’s thigh.
The song ended, and the band took a break. Joey and Carly snuck up behind Grace as she stopped at the bar. Grace, surprised, turned and laughed, hugging them both. Soon, she joined their group. The break was over soon, and after watching Grace perform a little while longer, the group decided to explore Bourbon Street.
***
“How do these people find me?” Noah asked after they finished telling Carly and Joey the story of the woman rubbing his leg. Finding the karaoke bar packed, and realizing the time, they had returned to the hotel and were having a final drink in the hotel’s bar. At that hour, the bar was mostly deserted, it was just the four of them and the bartender. An empty mug sat unattended at the corner of the bar.
“You’re hot,” said Emily. “I want to rub your leg too.”
“You can do that anytime. But I’m not a fan of strange women doing it in bars in New Orleans. She was probably some prostitute.”
“Or swinger,” Carly laughed.
Noah shuddered. “Ugh.”
Carly raised her glass. “Let’s have one final toast to Miss Emily,” she said “Tomorrow night we will be celebrating her win. And of course, drinks will be on her.”
Emily laughed. “If I win, you bet!”
Chapter Twenty-Three
With shaking hands, Emily shrugged on the apron that the sponsors had provided for the contestants. Luckily, Noah was there to help. She had no idea how she was going to be able to cut up ingredients if she couldn’t calm down.
Noah grabbed her hands and brushed his lips across them after tying the apron. “You’re going to be fine,” he reassured her. “You’ve been working on this for weeks now. You know what you’re doing. You’ve got this. Everyone who tried your recipe said it was incredible.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now, I have to go over to the spectator section. Take a deep breath. Focus. And wow them like you know you can,” he said.
Emily smiled. How amazing he had been. So supportive. She stopped for a moment to reflect on how different her life was now than it was six months ago. Yes, she could do this. If she could walk away from that life that had held her down for so long, she knew she could do this.
The host was a popular chef from the Food Network. She listened as he read over the rules one more time. She surveyed the cooks that were the competition. All regular people just like her that loved to cook.
I can do this.
Her heart skipped a little beat when the host introduced the judges. Local celebrities Emeril Lagasse and John Folse were part of the judging panel. These excellent cooks would be eating her food soon, judging her food.
She took another deep breath.
I can do this.
The host finally finished the introductions and the rules.
“Contestants, you have one hour to complete your meal,” he said. “And your time begins now.”
All of Emily’s nervousness vanished as she began to work. She had chosen Grams’ Oysters Rockefeller rec
ipe. The hardest part was shucking the oysters, so she tackled that first. Then, she chopped the vegetables and ingredients, keeping one eye on the big red digital clock that ticked down the time.
Time slipped away quickly, and before Emily knew it, the host was giving them the ten-minute warning. It was going to be tight, but she knew she could do it. She had practiced over and over, timing herself. The oysters were cooked to perfection, as were the small scallops that would rest in the middle of the oyster shell, like a pearl. The “pearl” had been Emily’s update.
Five minutes later, she began plating. Emily wanted the food to look as good as it tasted. She knew you ate with your eyes first, and she wanted everything to be flawless. She had to win this competition. Everything she dreamed about was almost a heartbeat away.
Emily finished plating as the host counted out the last five seconds.
“Five, four, three, two, one!”
Emily blew out a breath and looked to the spectator section. Glowing, she looked at her friends. They were clapping like crazy people. Emily gave them a little wave. She smiled when Noah winked.
Workers for the contest gathered up their plates for the judges.
Emily stood at her station while each judge sampled from the plates and made notations on score sheets.
Emily felt like her heart was going to thump right out of her chest it was beating so hard.
Finally, the judges bowed their heads together, microphones off, and compared their sheets.
“Chefs, the judges have made their decisions,” the host said, taking the microphone again. “We’ll start with honorable mention. Honorable mention goes to Stephen Marcel from Shreveport, Louisiana.”
The host waited for the applause to die down. “Third place goes to Nick Dubois from Lafayette, Louisiana.”
“Second place goes to Catherine Michel from Houma, Louisiana.”
More applause and Emily’s heart stopped beating. Who had won first?
“And now, ladies and gentlemen. The moment you have all been waiting for. This year’s winner of the Southern Louisiana Culinary Institute’s Annual Seafood Cook-Off and winner of twenty-five thousand dollars is…”
Emily tried not to curse aloud as the host played up the suspense. She knew the event was being televised, but right then, the only thing she wanted was to hear who had won. Was it her? Had she won, or walked away with nothing?
“Emily Thibodeaux!”
Suddenly, the breath she had been holding came out in a rush. Her eyes widened, and she swore her heart stopped beating.
The host was over at her station. “So, Ms. Thibodeaux, how do you feel right now.”
Stunned, she said, “Emeril liked my food!”
“Well, yes, apparently he did,” the host said, laughing.
Noah’s arms were encircling her, followed by Carly’s and Joey’s. She could barely breathe.
“You won, baby,” Noah said, kissing her.
The host had one more question. “What do you plan to do with your money?”
“Start my own catering company,” she said. “The Bon Chance Catering Company.”
Emily freed herself from Noah and the rest, then went to thank the judges. She stammered when she met Emeril, like some food groupie. He smiled at her and told her to come visit his restaurant while in town. She grinned like a schoolgirl.
Finally, she rejoined the group after signing contracts, and taking pictures with a blown-up twenty-five thousand dollar check.
“So, drinks on you tonight?” Carly asked, smiling.
“You bet. Let’s get started. We have some celebrating to do.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Ms. Thibodeaux,” the man said, holding out a hand to shake. “We would be glad to use your catering company for our next company banquet. Your food is incredible.”
“Thank you, Mr. Savoie, it will be a pleasure doing business with you. We’ll be in touch.”
“Yes, we will.”
One more handshake, and Emily began clearing out the trays of samples she had brought for the presentation to the Lafayette oil company. It was the third presentation she had made that day. And the second firm confirmation.
Smiling, she loaded the van. Again, she stopped to admire the graceful green lettering before sliding the side door closed.
Bon Chance Catering Company.
With a satisfied sigh, she climbed in the driver’s side. Before she pulled out of the parking lot, she called Noah.
“That’s two confirmations today!” she told him excitedly. “If this keeps up, I may have to hire help to keep up.”
“That’s great, baby. Get home so we can celebrate.”
“I’m on my way,” she said, hanging up the phone.
She slowed to a stop as the light in front of her turned red. Emily looked up.
‘Run Away to the Gulf Coast!’ the billboard said. Emily realized she was sitting at the same red light staring at the same billboard she had stared at a year ago.
A single tear rolled down her cheek as the light turned green.
What a difference a year could make.
Epilogue
Emily ran her hands along Noah’s arm. He was still sleeping, his face relaxed and boyish in sleep. The lines around his eyes and mouth faded. She didn’t want to wake him, but couldn’t resist touching him. His mouth curved in a smile, but his eyes remained shut. He reached out the same arm she’d touched and snuggled her close to him.
He had been waiting for her on the porch swing of their home. They had finished restoring Grams’ home, and she and Noah had moved in. As had Sadie and Oscar and the puppy those two had. A cross between a German Sheppard and a Boston terrier, it was so ugly it was cute.
Now, she nestled her cheek against his chest. He kissed the top of her head. “So, tell me, Ms. Emily. What do you plan to do now that your catering company is on the verge of success? How about we celebrate with a drink at Snapper’s?” Noah suggested.
“I could do that,” Emily replied.
Emily smiled as they entered the bar together. She made her rounds, hugging each of the regulars. They asked how her trip to Lafayette went, and they congratulated her on her success. Finally, they took seats by Daniel.
Noah rested a hand on her thigh as Carly served them drinks. Joey poked a head out of the kitchen. “Carly? What did you do with my knife?”
She grinned. “Hang on, I’ll get it.”
Emily threw back her head and laughed, capturing the attention of the customers. She grinned at Noah, thinking of how much had changed since she’d returned. She’d been almost broke, homeless, friendless, and so lonely. Now, she had her own business, good friends, an actual love life, and hope for the future. Emily smiled again as Ryder joined them.
Ryder grinned and shoved his cowboy hat on Emily’s head. He had given up asking her to get naked or to throw potato salad.
“Oh great,” Carly said as a customer walked in. It was Cheech again. Emily rolled her eyes.
“Hey, Ms. Emily,” Cheech said.
“Hi. How have you been?”
“I’ve been good.” He laughed. “Reaaallly good.”
“I bet.”
“It’s good to see you again. Wanna hear some music?” he asked her.
“Sure.”
“What do you want to hear?”
“Anything is fine.”
“Cool, man. I mean wo-man. I’m gonna play some music, then.”
“Great,” Emily said.
Emily smiled; relieved when southern rock started drifting through the formerly quiet bar. At least he hadn’t played anything too off the wall.
The door opened and Emily watched as Grace came in.
Carly came out of the back. “Grace? Joey didn’t tell me you were coming.”
“I just got here this morning.”
“Joey!” Carly called. “Grace is here.”
Joey’s head poked out of the swinging doors. “Hey, Grace! Hungry?”
“Yeah, get me a burger.
Please. And can I get a beer and a shot of Patron? It’s been a helluva trip.”
“Sure thing,” Carly said.
Emily smiled as “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” filled the bar. She looked around and nodded at Ryder.
“Wanna dance?” she asked him.
“Yeah. It’s a slow one. You shouldn’t be too bad,” he said, and she rewarded him with a punch on the arm.
He walked with her to the dance floor and wrapped his arms around her, but not too close. “I get too close to you and I might tempt you away from Noah.”
Emily laughed. “Uh huh.” Emily and Ryder glided along to the Christmas carol.
Emily felt a tap on her shoulder. “Can I cut in?”
It was Noah. Behind Noah was Carly. Carly grabbed Ryder as he let Emily go.
“Always,” she said. “Always.”
Acknowledgements
This book wouldn’t have been possible without two people. Thank you, Steve, for showing me that contest entry so many years ago, for your feedback, and for reading the manuscript a hundred times. Connie, you are such an inspiration to me. Thank you also for reading my book multiple times and for all that you do!
Also, thanks goes to Denise for all of your support and for taking an awesome photo for my book cover.
Val, Ju, Danyella, and Erin, thanks for the beta reads and the suggestions!
Thanks to everyone who offered me a story idea, or a word of encouragement on Facebook.
And last but not least, thanks goes to all of the wonderful teachers I had along the way who encouraged my love for writing. Ms. Riggs, Ms. Drummonds, and Toby (I stopped calling you Dr. Daspit a long time ago!), you guys rock!
About the Author
A.L. Vincent is a teacher/writer who lives in the heart of Cajun Country. Born in Oklahoma, A.L. became fascinated with South Louisiana after reading Interview With the Vampire. Finally, she became a Cajun transplant in 2001. When not getting lost in a story line, A.L. can be found cooking or enjoying live local music. A.L. has one son, and a furball of a dog aptly named Furby.
Tangled Up In You (Fleur de Lis Book 1) Page 18
