Bourbon Street Blues

by Maureen Child

  “I know.” Parker smiled.

  “It was a mistake. All the way around.”

  “Doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “Of course it matters, boy. Your mother’s worried about you, Parker. She says you’re not happy and she doesn’t know how to help.”

  “Tell her she doesn’t have to worry about me.”

  “Tell the stars not to shine, son.”

  “True.” Leaning back in his chair, Parker kicked his legs out and crossed his feet at the ankles. “I’m not saying things haven’t been hard. But that’s changing. Slowly. And I’m okay. Once the divorce is final, I’ll be even better.”

  “Hope so.”

  So did Parker. Despite reassuring his father, Parker wasn’t convinced himself. Not so very long ago, he’d assumed that divorcing Frannie would bring him instant joy. Now he wondered if he could really be happy without Holly in his life.

  Damn it.

  “How’s the new place coming?”

  “Great,” Parker said, jolted gratefully out of his thoughts by the shift in subject. He smiled for the first time in days. “You and Mom should come by.”

  Kemper grinned. “We were there on your opening night.”

  “I didn’t see you.” Parker was as pleased as he was surprised.

  “Not surprising. You couldn’t take your eyes off that singer, Holly Carlyle. We came in in the middle of her act. Didn’t want to talk to you then—distract you from what you had to do.”

  “I’m glad you came. It means a lot to me that you did.”

  “Your singer? She’s good.”

  “Amazing.”

  “You don’t sound real thrilled.”

  “It’s…complicated.” He could at least give Holly her due. As a singer, she had no equal.

  “Interesting.”

  Parker knew what his dad was inferring, but he didn’t want to talk about his relationship—whatever the hell that was—with Holly. There were too many things he had to sort out on his own.

  “Don’t make something out of nothing, Dad.”

  “Am I?”

  Unexpectedly, Parker laughed. “You won’t give up, will you, Dad.”

  “Humor me. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Not yet.” Parker stood, shaking his head. “I’ve got a few things I have to think about. To work out for myself before I can talk about them with anyone.”

  His father nodded slowly. “Understandable.” Lifting one hand, he pointed at his son. “But once you figure it out, we’ll talk again.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Well, then.” Kemper put his hands on his knees and stood with a muffled groan. “Guess I’d better get to it. There’s a meeting with a new distributor and—”

  “Dad, wait.” One truth hit Parker like a fist. This had been coming for a long time, and now, he realized, was the moment to deal with it. “There’s something else I do need to talk to you about.”

  “What?”

  He took a breath. “I want to quit.”

  His father looked stunned. “Excuse me?”

  Parker knew it wasn’t fair to spring this on his dad with no warning, but the surge of relief he felt made him realize he had waited too long already. He needed to make his own path. To step away from the family business, which had never really interested him. To contribute in his own way to the city he loved.

  “It’s been coming for a long time, Dad.” He waved his hand to encompass his office. “I’m just not suited for this anymore.”

  “You’ve done fine so far.”

  “Thanks, but my heart’s never been in the family business.”

  “This is about Frannie, isn’t it?”

  “Partly. But it will be the best thing for everyone.”

  “I don’t see how,” Kemper responded.

  Afternoon sunlight sneaked from behind the clouds, casting the room in golden light. For the first time Parker noticed that his father was getting older. The gray hair that swept back from his high forehead was thinning rapidly, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and the sides of his mouth seemed deeper than before.

  Age had slipped up on the old man, and Parker felt a stab of worry about the coming years when his parents would be gone.

  Time slipped by so damn fast. You could blink and miss a lifetime. If nothing else, that solidified the rightness of his decision. Life was just too short not to do what was important to you.

  Coming around the edge of his desk, he dropped one arm around his father’s shoulders. “Dad, Frannie’s never going to stop trying to get her fingers into the James’ family coffers. You know that.”

  His father grunted and muttered something unintelligible.

  “She’ll find a way to keep sucking money out of us. And as long as I’m here, a part of the business, she’ll believe she has a shot at it. She won’t back down.”

  “The lawyers can handle her.”

  “Probably. But it only drags this mess out—and, Dad, I want out.” He dropped his arm and stepped back. “I want her and my marriage behind me. I want the past over and the future to begin. This is the one way I know to make sure that happens.”

  His father watched him for a long minute or two before saying, “This isn’t all about Frannie’s greed, though, is it?”

  “No, it’s not.”

  His dad nodded. “Doesn’t make me happy, but I guess I always knew your sister was more interested in the business than you were.”

  “That’s the solid truth.” Parker laughed. “You couldn’t blast Miranda out of here with dynamite.”

  “Girl’s driving me nuts every day, coming up with some new plan or other for expansion, diversification…” He shook his head, but there was a gleam of pride in his eyes.

  “Miranda loves it,” Parker said. “I don’t.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I am.”

  “Can’t say I’m really surprised. Disappointed, but not surprised.” Then his tone changed as he clapped one hand on Parker’s shoulder. “We’ll worry about all the paperwork later. Don’t you have a jazz café to run?”

  HOLLY STOOD AT THE BACK of the room, trying to be invisible while she steadied her breathing. Her long black dress molded itself to her body. Swags of silver beads dripped from her earlobes, dusting the tops of her shoulders, and a teardrop-shaped crystal pendant hung from a silver chain around her neck to lay nestled in her cleavage.

  She’d done her best to look fabulous.

  She wanted to knock Parker’s socks off.

  Or, she thought grimly, at the very least, to render him speechless. For his own sake. Because so help her, if he started in on his you-trapped-me routine again tonight, she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions.

  She inhaled, deeply, trying to ease the knot of tension that had tightened at the memory of their last conversation. God, she had been so furious, so hurt, so blindly eager to kick back, she hadn’t been able to think straight.

  Maybe staying away from him for a few days had been the best thing to do for both of them. Just as coming here now, tonight, was the only thing she could do.

  Shana was right. Judging all men by the actions of one wasn’t fair. The pain she’d felt at what Jeff had put her through was gone now, and the anger she felt toward Parker was his alone.

  But over the last couple of days she’d begun to wonder if everything he’d said to her had been rooted in pain from his own past. Being married to Frannie couldn’t have been easy. And if a man was used to being lied to, wouldn’t he learn to expect it from everyone?

  “God, I have a headache.” She rubbed at the spot between her eyes.

  Muted conversation from the audience drifted to her undercover of the soft, slow jazz flowing through the room. Overhead, blue light poured down on the entertainers on stage, setting them apart from the crowd. She sighed a little and leaned back against the cold wall. A chill snaked along her naked spine and swirled through her bloodstream.

  But the chill was wiped away as an
other performer took center stage. Parker stepped forward carrying an alto saxophone with a short, curved horn, his big hands moving gently on the sweep of shiny red and brass. The glossy instrument caught the lights and sent reflected sparks into the audience. His long fingers worked the keys, as if preparing himself to play.

  He turned and flashed a quick smile at the musicians behind him, then lifted the sax to his mouth.

  As he began to play, a soft, warm spotlight sliced through the cool blue and lay across him, highlighting him for the crowd. Holly’s stomach did a very weird pitch and roll. His black hair shone under the light, and as he closed his blue eyes and gave himself over to the music, Holly felt her nerves drain away.

  She knew just what to do.

  She hummed to herself at first, feeling the melody sink inside her, flooding her body with its soul-soothing rhythm. She swayed gently in the shadows as she became the song, responding in a way that never failed to leave her breathless.

  And when she had it—when she felt as though the song were coming from her heart, she began to sing. Her voice was soft at first as she found the pace, settling herself around the cool, throaty sounds of Parker’s sax. As her voice lifted, soaring along those notes, heads began to turn toward her.

  Smiles welcomed her and a smattering of applause rose as she started a slow, sultry walk toward the stage. But Holly saw none of it. Her gaze was fixed on the stage.

  On Parker.

  Her heartbeat stuttered a bit, but she concentrated on the music, letting it carry her along when her footsteps might have faltered.

  He stared at her as she approached, but his playing never wavered. He didn’t lose focus. She felt the power of his eyes on her as she neared, and could have sworn she felt heat shimmering out from him in a warm wave that could have been either welcome or fury.

  At the moment she didn’t care which it was.

  Her voice needed no microphone to swell over the crowd. She stepped in between the tables, dragging her fingertips across glossy surfaces, smiling as she poured her soul into her song. And when she stepped onto the stage and stood alongside Parker, it felt…right.

  Together, they sailed to the end of that song, and together, slid right into another with hardly a break for breath. The musicians behind them raced to keep up. They were young, probably inexperienced, and Holly smiled inwardly, remembering what Parker had told her about hiring neighborhood talent. He was giving them a chance. A place to shine and show what they had.

  Holly leaned into Parker, blending her voice with the sexy strains of the sax, and when the song finally ended and they stood together in the soft overhead lights listening to the applause, they saw only each other.

  “I DIDN’T EXPECT to see you here,” Parker said, stepping behind the coffee bar to pull out two bottles of cold water. He handed her one of them and took a long drink of his own.

  “Don’t know why not,” Holly said. “You did hire me to sing here three nights a week, didn’t you?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “And Tuesday is one of those nights, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. So was last night. And the night before. Didn’t see you here then.”

  Nodding, she took a drink of water and then set the bottle on the bar. “That’s true. But it took me a couple of days to get past the urge to kick you the minute I saw you.”

  He leaned his forearms on the bar. “Guess I can’t blame you for that.”

  “Gee,” she said with a very small smile, “thanks so much.”

  He heaved a sigh. “Look. About that night. I said some things…”

  “Oh, you said plenty of things.”

  “You’re not gonna make this easy, are you?”

  “Any reason why I should?”

  “No,” he acknowledged. “I guess not. Look, Holly, I’m not proud of how I acted. I shouldn’t have said any of what I did.”

  Behind Holly, the café was buzzing with conversation and laughter, and the air was filled with the scent of dark, rich coffee and fresh beignets. While the musicians took a break, music drifted in from the street.

  She considered his words a minute. “Not exactly an apology,” she mused. But it was more than she’d expected. Heck, just talking to him was more than she’d expected. She had figured that she’d come in, sing and then have another fight with Parker about being here.

  Maybe life would have been easier if she had simply let whatever lay between them fade away with time. But she’d never been one to go for “easy.”

  “Holly—” He reached for her, then caught himself, folding his hands into fists. “I can’t say I’m sorry for what I thought. But I am sorry I said it.”

  That stung.

  No point in denying it, Holly thought.

  The fact that Parker still believed she’d set him up, tore at her. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that. From now on, she’d be as cool as the music they both loved. From now on, she’d remember to protect herself even as she tried to open her heart to possibilities.

  “I’m glad you’re here, though,” he said, and his voice sounded as though those few words had cost him.

  “Why, Parker? Why are you happy to see me if you really believe I’m all the things you said I was?”

  “Because…I’ve missed seeing you, damn it.”

  She fought past the ache in her heart to force a small smile. “That’s something, I guess.”

  “I hadn’t counted on meeting you, Holly.” When one of the baristas came too close, Parker sent him a glare that had the kid scurrying back to the other end of the bar. He turned back to Holly and his eyes were dark and stormy. “I wasn’t looking for a woman. I wasn’t interested in getting involved again.”

  “That’s the thing Parker—” Anger laced her words. “What makes you so sure that I was looking for you?”

  He frowned. “I didn’t think that.”

  “Sure you did,” she countered, leaning in and lowering her voice. “You said it flat-out. You think I set out to land you like a damn catfish.” Her voice went even lower. “That I stockpiled condoms until they were old and useless all in the hope that I would get you to use them.”

  A flash of something that might have been shame flickered in his eyes.

  “Well, you can relax, Mr. James.” Holly patted his hand once, twice, then picked up her water bottle. “I’m not looking for anything from you. I’m not interested in your money, your business or your name. All I want is the job you offered me.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why would you want to work for me when you’re still so clearly pissed off?”

  “That would be my business,” she said tightly.

  Holly knew he was struggling to keep control.

  “So is the job offer still on the table?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” She swallowed hard and cleared her throat before trying to speak again. “Then I’ll be here three nights a week. Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. I’ll sing for you. I’ll bring in the customers and you’ll give me a check every Tuesday night for my services. You’re my employer. That’s all. The beginning and end of our ‘relationship.’ Agreed?”

  “Fine.”

  “Good.” She handed him her water bottle, smoothed both hands down her sides and over her hips, then gave her hair a flip. “Now that we’ve got that settled, I’ll just go and see if the boys are ready to play another set.”

  “Fine.”

  His blue eyes looked dangerous and his mouth was a grim slash. Maybe she shouldn’t have taken satisfaction in setting him straight about a few things. But she had never claimed to be perfect.

  And she still had things to say.

  “You were wrong,” Holly told him, straightening and shaking her head, making her silver earrings flash. “About me. About everything you said.”

  Parker braced his legs wide apart and folded both arms over his broad chest. “If it’s any consolation, I wanted to be wrong.”

 
; Anger flared up inside her. Apparently she’d fooled herself into thinking she couldn’t be hurt by him anymore.

  “You know what, Parker? That’s just no consolation at all.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  BY SATURDAY MORNING, tensions between Parker and Holly were still sky-high.

  Parker couldn’t say why that bothered him.

  Hell, he should have been happy. He had the club he’d long dreamed of. He was in the process of withdrawing from the family business. And according to his attorneys, his divorce to Frannie would be final in a couple of months.

  So why the hell wasn’t he happy?

  He parked his car at the curb, turned off the engine and stared up at Holly’s apartment. “She’s turned me into a damn stalker,” he muttered.

  He had tried calling her a couple of times. He had even gone to the Hotel Marchand the night before to talk to her there. But she wouldn’t see him and he hadn’t been able to smooth-talk his way past Tommy to get close enough to change her mind.

  She was bound and determined to keep him at a distance, and that should have made him happy, too.

  But it didn’t.

  And he didn’t know what would.

  All he knew for sure was that his world was off balance. Out of kilter. He missed seeing Holly. Missed touching her. Remembering the one night they’d had together before everything had gone straight down the drain was enough to keep him awake all night.

  “Gotta talk to her,” he said firmly, glaring now at the upper story of the old house on the corner. “Gotta get whatever’s between us out in the open so we can both get over it.”

  The fact that Holly seemed to have gotten over it didn’t sit well with him.

  When the front door opened and Holly walked out into a splash of sunshine, Parker’s heart stopped. She was beautiful under a spotlight, but in daylight, the sun caught the fire in her hair and made it sizzle. Her pale skin seemed luminous and his hands itched to touch her.

  She tipped her head back to smile up at the cloudless sky, but when she glanced down and spotted him, she scowled fiercely.

  “Damn it.” But then he’d hardly expected her to be happy to see him. A part of his brain reminded him that if she reacted this strongly to his being there, maybe she wasn’t as “over” him as she pretended.