He settled on dinner at Emeril’s in the Warehouse District. It was, after all, “five star dining,” the very way she’d described herself. And if things went well, his loft was only a few streets away. He never took his women there — it made things too personal, too complicated — but he’d make an exception for Peyton. He was also willing to make an exception to his promise not to rush things.
Peyton hardly expected such a beautiful dinner or for Reed to be such a romantic guy, opening every door for her, pulling out her chair. The kiss on the porch was a little forward for a first date greeting, but it did relieve some pressure and thankfully didn’t ignite any lightning strikes of memories past. Still, she wondered whether this was the real Reed or the night was just too good to be true, starting with their first kiss, like something out of an old Hollywood movie, the whole thing carefully designed by a leading man whose stunning good looks and charm burst from the silver screen. She tried not to think about all the other women but didn’t want to be naive, either. She twirled her locket, considering all the possibilities, then opened her menu.
“Who’s in there?” Reed asked.
Peyton scooted her chair towards him and opened her locket. “That’s my dad, Aidan Mayfield, and my mom, Victoria Peyton Mayfield.”
“They live in New Orleans?”
“Not anymore. They died when I was six.”
“Jesus! I’m sorry.” Hard knocks.
“Car crash.” She closed the locket. “It was a long time ago.”
“Well, it’s a nice memory to have.”
“All I have are memories, so I never take it off.” Peyton explained when her parents died, her paternal grandparents were her only family left. Gram and Grandpa gave her the locket on the day of the funeral. “All things considered, I had a good childhood. They raised me where I live now. They were very protective of me. Gram thought she could cure anything by baking, but Grandpa had a slightly different way.”
Reed listened intently, watching her lost in her thoughts, happy she was carrying the conversation.
“I remember if anything bad happened to me — like some mean boy would break my heart — Grandpa would drive us to Seaside, Florida. He’d rent a little house on the beach and take me out to the water. He’d tell me to cry, to let the sea carry away my tears. He died my senior year of college.” Peyton took a sip of water. “What about your family?”
Reed opened his menu and scanned it. “I’m an only child, too.”
“What about your parents? They’re still together?”
“32 years.”
“What do they do?” Peyton asked, tilting her head to make eye contact.
Reed took a long drink. “My mom never worked.” Then he gave a naughty smile. “Being my mom was a full-time job.”
“I bet it still is.”
“She dedicates a large part of each day telling me to redecorate my loft, find a woman to give her grandchildren, and cut my hair. And when she’s not doing that, she’s on several charity boards around town.”
“What’s wrong with your hair?” Peyton reached up and gently touched it.
Reed’s eyes sparkled at her touch. He leaned into her, their lips only inches apart. “Are you actually admitting you like something about me?”
The waiter approached to take their order. Peyton dropped her hand and scooted her chair back, their playful moment over. Reed silently cursed the waiter then politely asked him for a few more minutes.
“So what about your dad?”
Reed pulled at his shirt collar, suddenly wishing the waiter would come back. “My dad owns several businesses in town.”
“Really? Any places I’ve heard of?”
“A few hotels,” he said, shrugging.
Hotels? That’s convenient. Peyton set her hands in her lap, unsure what to say next. “Do you ever do any work with your dad?”
Reed looked around for the waiter, now tending to another table. “My father and I, uh, well, we....”
Peyton’s phone rang. “I’m so sorry. I forgot to turn it off.”
Reed assured her it was fine; indeed, he couldn’t have hoped for better timing.
Peyton found her phone in her purse, buried under Quinn’s “Shame on You” kit. “Sorry, I need to take this.” She stood up from the table — and so did Reed — then quickly walked outside with her phone to her ear.
He followed her with his eyes, watching her through the window, her back to him, admiring how the blue dress perfectly framed the curve of her waist. Then she turned slightly, her profile coming into view, and he saw something was wrong. Did Griffin call? She appeared to be shaking. She hung up the phone, then her eyes caught his. Reed stood up, seeing a tear on her cheek. He threw several bills down on the table and rushed outside, half-hoping it was Griffin who called. The boxer he was, Reed hadn’t been in a good fight in a long time and pummeling Griffin was long overdue. When he got outside, he saw her tears had multiplied. “Who’s ass do I need to kick?”
“No one,” she said, managing a smile before her voice cracked. “It’s Gram. I’m sorry. I have to go.”
Reed took her hand. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Peyton researched various centers before settling on Poydras Home. It was right down the street from her pie shop, close to her home, and most important of all, seemed a perfect fit — with lots of activities to keep her grandmother entertained. After all, her mind was still there, but her body wasn’t what it once was, a fact Gram was reluctant to accept. But Gram knew it was for the best. She’d lived in Poydras Home for the past year.
Peyton and Reed hurried inside the lobby and towards a door leading to a corridor where the residents lived. Before they could open it, a young receptionist stopped them. “I’m sorry, you can’t go back.”
“What? My grandmother, Adelaide Mayfield, is hurt. Nurse Gloria called me like ten minutes ago.”
“I understand, but the doctor is examining your grandmother right now,” the receptionist said, fixing her eyes on Reed. “He’ll come talk to you when he’s done.”
“I need to see her.” Peyton tried to go around her, but the receptionist blocked her path. “I can’t believe this is happening!” Reed put his arm around her.
“There’s really nothing I can do,” the receptionist said, playing with her hair, wishing Reed’s arm was around her. “It’s our policy.”
Reed sensed an opening. “Look, I respect your job, your policy, but my job as this girl’s boyfriend is to take care of her and that means she needs to see her grandmother.” Peyton looked up at him in shock, her heart pounding in her chest. “And I need you to respect that.”
The young receptionist softened her stance. This hot guy made so much sense. “OK, just this once,” she said and pushed a button to open the door. Peyton flew through it, as the receptionist winked at Reed, who walked right past her.
Down the long corridor, Peyton found Nurse Gloria, who pointed to a nearby room. “Adelaide is in there, honey.”
Peyton raced inside and peeked behind a curtain to find her grandmother sitting on an examination table, jabbering with a doctor while eating a chocolate stick of Roman Candy. Peyton walked towards her, finding this wasn’t quite the life-or-death situation she expected. “Gram?”
“Baby girl, what are you doing here? What a pleasant surprise!”
“Pleasant? Gloria called me. She said you fell. What happened?”
“Good heavens! They shouldn’t have called you, dear. I’m fine. Someone put my candy on the top shelf, and I couldn’t reach it.”
Nurse Gloria entered the room. “So she climbed on a chair and toppled over.”
Adelaide waved her chocolate stick. “But I got my candy!”
The doctor stood up. “Nothing’s broken or sprained. But you’ll be sore tomorrow, so take it easy.” Adelaide promised she would then offered the doctor a bite of her Roman Candy, which he respectfully declined. Nurse Gloria escorted him out of the room and past Reed lingering in the do
orway.
“I was so scared,” Peyton said, hugging her grandmother tightly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Adelaide patted her on the back and played with her hair. “Don’t worry, baby girl, I won’t go anywhere until you’re ready for me to go.” She released Peyton to take another bite. “You look beautiful in that dress. Do you want some?” She held out the chocolate to Peyton, but she shook her head. “That’s too bad. How about your friend over there?” Adelaide looked at Reed in the doorway.
“Absolutely,” he said, walking towards the women. He took the candy and popped it in his mouth. “I’m Reed, ma’am.”
Adelaide pulled him in for a hug. “I don’t get to squeeze strapping young men too often anymore.”
“Gram!” Peyton cried. Reed chuckled as he pulled back.
Adelaide eyed them both. “You look like you’re going somewhere special.”
“We were at Emeril’s when Gloria called,” Peyton said then turned to Reed. “I ruined our date.”
“Not at all,” Reed assured her, stroking her back. “I’d actually planned to hang out at a nursing home after dinner, so this worked out just fine.”
Adelaide let out a high cackle. “I like this kid, Peyton.”
“Yeah, he’s quite the comedian,” she replied. “It’s our first date.”
“Oh my! Well, you two should get going.” Adelaide shooed her hands at them. “You don’t need to hang around an old woman all night.”
“Don’t be silly,” Peyton said. “I’m not leaving you, Gram.”
“I’m fine,” Adelaide snapped. “Now you better get your little behind in that pretty little dress up and out that door.”
“Gram?”
“Don’t you ‘Gram’ me. You have a nice, young man there.” Adelaide winked at Reed. “Go enjoy him.”
Reed winked at Peyton, who could only shake her head. She wasn’t sure how “nice” he really was, but his charms certainly seemed without limits, apparently extending to senior citizens, too. Peyton kissed her grandmother on the cheek and promised to come by tomorrow to check on her.
“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Reed said before turning to leave with Peyton.
They walked out of the room and down the corridor. “Some first date, huh?” she said, looking in her purse for a tissue.
“I’ve had a good time.”
They reached the lobby, and Peyton stopped for a moment to dry her eyes and nose, certain she looked like a hot mess. In between dabs, she saw the young receptionist drooling over Reed. “I’m sorry about all this.”
“Please stop apologizing,” Reed said. “I told you I’ve had a good time. And I’m glad she’s fine.”
“Excuse me,” the young receptionist called out, handing Reed her business card. “I’m here all night, in case you want to call and check on things. I put my cell number on the back in case the main line is busy. We sometimes get a lot of calls at once.”
Reed took the card and handed it to Peyton without looking at it. “At a nursing home?”
“Yeah, it can get wild,” the receptionist said, batting her eyes. “Real wild.”
Reed opened the door for Peyton, and they started down the street together, strolling past antique, jewelry, and costume stores. “Do you ever get sick of women throwing themselves at you?”
“Do you ever get sick of men throwing themselves at you?”
Peyton shook her head. “That never happens.”
“You just don’t notice, or don’t try to notice — one or the other.”
“You must have had too much of Gram’s candy,” she teased, her eyes landing on a pair of white pearl G-string thongs in a lingerie store window.
“There were these two guys at Emeril’s whose dates punched them in the arm because they eyed your ass when you stood up and walked outside on the phone.”
Peyton laughed. “That didn’t happen.”
“Yep, it did. And then when you were on the phone outside, another guy walked by you and did a double take.” Reed looked back over his shoulder, trying to get the name of the lingerie store. “Dating you is going to drive me crazy. I’ll probably get in a lot of fights.”
“You probably use these lines all the time.”
“What? It’s true. I saw it all. They were probably wondering if you were wearing that pearl G-string.” Peyton looked down, a tight smile on her lips, a rosy blush on her cheeks. “I saw you looking back there.”
“So what if I was?” She gave him a sweet smile, as they reached his Range Rover.
“Hey, you won’t see me complaining,” Reed said, opening her door. “Are you wearing those now?”
“Of course. I always wear them on first dates. Don’t you?”
Reed laughed and gave her a peck on the cheek. He liked where this was going: the sweet touches, the implication they’d spend more time together, the panties, the good vibe he got from meeting the family — well, just Gram. He rushed around the truck to get in. “Well, we missed our dinner, but lucky for you, I have a Plan B.”
* * *
Reed parked next to Jax Brewery and brought Peyton up a stairway to Woldenberg Park. They found a little bench to watch the barges float down the Mississippi River, a breeze blowing off the water and through Peyton’s hair. He pointed at a shiny glass building surrounded by old wharves. “I designed that one.” Peyton cocked her head to the side and bit her bottom lip, quietly considering the building for a moment, its newness such a contrast from those around it. Reed reached for the back of his neck. “You don’t like it?”
“It’s beautiful.”
“What’s wrong with my building?”
“Nothing.”
“But?” Reed poked her in the side.
“But....”
“Tell me. I want to know what you think.”
“It’s just that I remember the building that used to be there.”
“Me too,” he said. “It was full of cracks and holes. It was an eye sore.”
Peyton shrugged her shoulders. “The Leaning Tower of Pisa is crooked. And the Colosseum in Rome has a bunch of damage. You’d tear those down?”
Reed sat back, a small smile on his face, not about to get into some emotional or intellectual debate about progress, the economy, or historical preservation on a first date — especially a debate he knew he’d lose.
“But don’t get me wrong,” she said, “you’re obviously really good at what you do. It’s beautiful.” She smiled at him. “And what do I know? I bake pies.”
“I think you know a lot,” he said. She tries to find beauty in everything. “I’m starving. You hungry?” She nodded. He kissed the top of her head before walking off.
Peyton turned back towards the mighty river, taking in its slow crawl, breathing in the fresh air. So far she’d had fun but feared he liked his women like he liked his buildings, shiny and new. She gently rubbed the scar on her temple. He can’t find the beauty in brokenness. She looked up to find Reed standing over her, holding two hot dogs.
“Lucky Dogs aren’t exactly what I had in mind,” he said, handing one to her.
Reed sat down and pulled two water bottles from his pockets, along with an assortment of condiments. Then he removed his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. They dressed their hot dogs, and Peyton took a huge bite, letting out a moan and smile in delight. She took two more bites and finished the whole thing then glanced at Reed, barely halfway done, and suddenly feared she looked like a pig.
His eyes popped in amazement. His women usually didn’t eat much at all — often just a grape or two, and if really hungry, a side salad and water.
“I like to eat,” Peyton said.
“Good, but I never would’ve guessed since you turned me down for dinner so many times.”
“I was just waiting for you to take me out for hot dogs.”
Reed offered her a bite of his hot dog, which she took without hesitation. Then he looked down at what remained, appearing so small and sad now. “Do y
ou want another one?”
“No, I’m good.”
Reed finished it off before she changed her mind. Then he slid closer to her and put his arm around her back. She leaned her head on his shoulder, the sun’s last breath leaving a trail of yellows, oranges, and reds accenting the golden highlights in her brown hair. He lifted her chin towards him and kissed her gently, softly, sweetly this time. Peyton felt a rush of heat, aching for more, a desire entirely unfamiliar. He parted her lips and caressed her tongue with his. She moaned in pleasure, her entire body trembling. Reed pulled her onto his lap and moved his attention to her neck, the slight stubble on his face sending sparks through her. His hand gripped her back and slid towards her shoulder, the strap of her dress falling down. He wanted to rip the dress off.
Be patient. He pulled back and stared at her, panting, her eyes filled with desire, clearly wanting more herself. The corner of his mouth turned up. He lifted up the strap and gently ran his fingers through her hair.
* * *
They decided to hit Bourbon Street, the smell of booze coupled with cajun spice and jasmine welcoming them to the adult playground. They found the usual tourists and locals with beads around their necks — even though Mardi Gras was still weeks away — nursing drinks in a rainbow of colors, from blood-red Hurricanes to toffee-colored Sazeracs. They walked past a group of jazz musicians atop an ironclad balcony, young bottle-cap dancers tapping along below, a basket in front of them for donations.
After tossing them a few bucks, Reed took her off the beaten path and onto some side streets. He pointed out his favorite old buildings, some ensconced by walls topped with old broken bottles for protection, some with long green storm shutters and narrow tall doors, some that looked like they should be on a Caribbean island, with their cream, light pink, and faded blue exteriors. And throughout his little tour, he kept his hand intertwined with hers and stole a kiss here and there. This wasn’t exactly what he had in mind for their first date — hot dogs and an architectural tour — but his heart raced each time she squeezed his hand or asked a question, letting him know she was genuinely interested and having a good time.
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