Brown Eyed Girl

by Lori Leger

  “Damn, I’m pathetic,” he mumbled as he hurried to his kitchen, wanting to make sure she came back to a good breakfast.

  Twenty minutes later, he found himself perched in front of the same window, watching as she neared the house, still running at the same quick pace. She ran into the yard, slowing, and eventually jogging in place to cool down. He returned to the stove, waiting until she came back into the kitchen.

  “What is that, about a seven minute mile?” he asked, when she joined him. “Not bad. Are you training for a five-k race?”

  “No…I just run…to relieve stress,” she said taking deep breaths and letting them out slowly. She poured herself a glass of tap water and took a long swig. Setting the glass down, she pulled off her sweatshirt to reveal a bright pink tank top underneath.

  “Breakfast is ready.” He handed her a plate then showed her various pans filled with scrambled eggs, grits, and crispy bacon. “Want more coffee? I also have orange juice.”

  “Got milk?” she asked, grinning as she filled her plate.

  “Sure do.” He poured a glass and handed it to her.

  Red fixed himself a plate and sat down next to her as they ate for a few seconds in silence. Finally he said, “I have to admit, Doc, knowing that you came from money, you surprise me.”

  “Yeah, but you know the rest of the story too. Drake and I would gladly have given up the money to grow up with parents like yours. Please don’t fault me for that.”

  “Oh, I believe you; and I can’t fault you for anything except waiting as long as you did to cut Tanner loose.”

  She shrugged, but remained silent and continued to eat.

  Red cringed. “I’m sorry, Doc. That was rude of me.”

  “It’s no big deal,” Tiffany admitted. “It’s the truth. I never thought I was the kind of woman that felt like she had to have a man around to be happy, but maybe I am.”

  “Well,” he drawled, “maybe it’s not a question of having a man, but having the right man.”

  “Well sure,” she agreed. “But how are you going to know who’s right unless you go out there and take a chance? When’s the last time you took a chance on a relationship, Mr. ‘night club owner’?”

  “It’s been a while,” he admitted.

  “Have you ever been in love?”

  “No, the closest I’ve ever come was Katrina Boudreaux in the tenth grade.” Until now. “A year and a half ago, an old friend and I tried to date exclusively. It only took three months to figure out that wasn’t going anywhere. We ended it mutually and went our separate ways. Since then, just a couple of…,” his voice trailed off.

  “One night stands?”

  “Not exactly that,” he said, hoping Tiffany would let it go. She didn’t.

  “Well, I can’t imagine you having to pay for it.”

  He studied her features, suddenly tight with…what? Anger? Blame? She expected him to disappoint her. “Why don’t you just come out and ask me if I’ve used a prostitute? I know you’re dying to.”

  She met his gaze and held it. “Have you ever used a prostitute for sex?”

  “Of course not, but I have a couple of women friends that I shared mutual benefits with.” The relief on her face spoke volumes about what that son of a bitch, Tanner, had put her through. “Not for a while, though. I’m not a big fan of casual sex, and I’m getting too old to play games.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He pushed his plate to the side and rested his elbows on the table. “I’m ready to settle down.”

  “But you have to commit to someone for that to happen.”

  He sighed heavily. “Okay Doc, ask yourself something. If you’d grown up having my parent’s marriage as an example, do you think you’d have been so willing to settle for Tanner?”

  Tiffany’s brow furrowed in concentration. “I guess not.”

  “They set the bar pretty high for us,” Red commented. “They taught us not to settle for less than what we wanted.”

  She frowned thoughtfully. “But, what if that person doesn’t exist? What if women of today can’t reach that bar that your mother has raised so high?”

  Red ran his hand through his hair in exasperation. “You’re missing the point, Doc. My parents aren’t perfect—they have flaws just like everyone else. But they’re perfect for each other—they’re a match. I’m waiting for my match.”

  “But how will you know when you find her?”

  “My dad always told me I’d know when I met her.” He didn’t flinch under her unwavering gaze, waiting...hoping she’d ask if he already had. He’d waited too damn long for it to happen to deny it, but he could tell the instant she decided to let it go.

  She pushed away from the table and stood up. “Thanks for the breakfast, it was delicious. Can I help you clean up the kitchen?”

  “Nah, go on and take your shower. I’ve got this. I’ll load the boxes in the truck. When you’re done we can head over to the condo.”

  <><><>

  Red parked them next to her car, his truck bed loaded down with packing boxes. By eight a.m., they had already filled several large boxes with Tiffany’s personal items. True to her word, she’d left most of her things at her rent house. The only furniture she’d moved into Tanner’s condo was her computer desk and chair, along with a few end tables, lamps, and one chair for the bedroom. Tiffany packed up her hanging clothes in garment carriers while Red packed her desk top computer and the other items. Between the two of them they got the desk loaded into Red’s truck and filled the rest of the space with boxes.

  An hour after their arrival, Tiffany made one last run through the place. Before leaving, she hung her condo key on the same hook as she’d hung her ring, locked the door and walked out.

  Within ten short minutes, they’d both pulled up in front of Tiffany’s bungalow on Fleur de Lis Avenue. The house and neatly trimmed yard, with its flower beds bursting with purple and gold pansies, seemed to transform Tiffany instantly. The welcoming eight foot deep front porch with its wide decking and original windows beckoned guests to stay for a visit.

  Red handed Tiffany the hanging baskets she’d brought from the condo. “Here, I’ll let you do the honors,” he said, smiling as she hung them carefully on strategically located hooks around the sunny porch. He followed her inside, carrying two lamps and a shoulder bag then helped her move all her outdoor furniture back to its positions on the front porch and back deck.

  Red stood on the deck, staring out at the small, but beautifully landscaped back yard, and whistled. “You must have felt stifled in that condo after living here for...how long?” he asked, turning to face her.

  “About five years,” she answered, adjusting the position of a lounger.

  “I don’t know how you lasted as long as you did.”

  “I don’t either, Red.” She stretched her arms out and turned in a slow circle. “I feel like I can breathe again.”

  He threw an arm casually across her shoulders. “Come on, Doc. Let’s get the rest of your stuff moved in.”

  They moved the boxes into the designated rooms and began to systematically unpack them. By one o’clock in the afternoon Red finished connecting the last cable to Tiffany’s home computer and turned it on to make sure everything worked. He flashed a grin her way as her internet browser’s home page popped up. “I see you kept your phone and internet service going, too.”

  “Uh huh,” she said, passing a dust cloth over her end tables. “There’s that fear to commit thing again. Hey, I’m ordering pizza, is that okay?”

  “I want the meat lover’s special,” he told her.

  “I like everything but anchovies,” she commented as she picked up the phone and ordered one medium pizza for Red and a small for her, along with an order of dessert turnovers, and a jug of sweet tea.

  Red swiveled in her desk chair to face her. “Am I correct in assuming Drake had something to do with you keeping the utilities going?”

  She nodded. “Absolutely, and just what
kind of conversation did you have with my brother last night, anyway?”

  “What did he tell you?” he asked, hoping he could trust Drake to keep his mouth shut.

  “He hardly mentioned you at all.”

  Red allowed himself to relax before answering her. “He said it was time you cut Tanner loose then he asked if you’d taken his advice and hung on to this place.”

  “He warned me not to get rid of it—turns out he knew what he was talking about,” Tiffany admitted.

  Red looked around and admired the bungalow. “This place suits you, Doc.” Not as well as my ranch, but it beats the hell out of her sharing Tanner’s bed.

  Tiffany smiled and lovingly ran her hand over the front door. “I fell in love with this house the second I saw it. It needed a paint job and a little TLC, but I saw the potential. They don’t build homes like this anymore.”

  “Yeah, these old houses have a lot of character. My place in Lafayette was a 1950’s Craftsman style that I refurbished.”

  “Your mom told me about the pool, but she didn’t say anything about the house. How could you bear to sell it?”

  “I made a huge profit on the sale and the benefits of moving on this end were too tempting to pass up.”

  “What benefits?”

  “Being near my friends and future Godchildren was a plus.”

  “And the new club,” she added.

  He nodded. “That too. Mostly, I’ve always loved Bill’s ranch, and I was ready for country living. When I found out he had it up for sale, I couldn’t pass it up.”

  Tiffany placed some books on a shelf and threw the empty box on the porch. “I’ve been meaning to ask, when is your parent’s anniversary?”

  “On Christmas day.”

  “They got married on Christmas Day?”

  “Yeah, that’s when we’ll all perform it for them. It’s a good thing you and your brother will be there. The co-writer has to help me sing the lead vocals.”

  “We’ll need to rehearse with your sisters; it takes time to come up with all those harmony parts you’ll need.”

  “Do you think Drake will be able to make it?”

  “I made him promise to be here with me for Christmas, no matter where I am. He’s never broken a promise to me yet.”

  “I like your brother already,” Red told her.

  Tiffany smiled. “He’s a good guy. He’s excellent at reading people.”

  Red thought about the conversation he’d had with Drake and knew that for a fact. He respected the man, even without having met him. Sometimes a phone conversation could be just as revealing as a face to face meeting.

  They were deep in conversation when the doorbell rang, signaling the pizza’s arrival. Tiffany asked Red to find some music on her computer while she readied the pizza and drinks at the table.

  They listened to classic rock while they ate and laughed at each other’s childhood antics. Red finished off the last of his tea and stood up to stretch. “This is nice, but I’ve got to get to my club.”

  “Have fun in that day after Thanksgiving shopping traffic,” Tiffany said, cringing visibly.

  “You want to come? Marc Broussard’s playing tonight.”

  “No, I’m going to have to pass tonight. I want to stay home and savor having my own space again. But I want to invite you over for a home cooked meal soon. I owe you big for helping me move in today.”

  “I’m always up for that.”

  “How about Sunday afternoon?”

  “That’s good for me,” Red told her. “Lunch or supper?”

  “The Saints play at three o’clock and I hate fussing at the t.v. alone. How about you get here by three and we can eat around five or six?”

  “Will you give me banana pudding for dessert?” Red asked, wearing what his mom called his deprived puppy expression.

  “Somehow I never took you for the begging kind, McAllister.”

  “Next time I come I’ll wear my WILL BEG FOR BANANA PUDDING t-shirt.”

  Her eyes crinkled with laughter. “So, who’ll be playing in the club tomorrow night?”

  “It’s a band called ‘Country Rhodes’ as in R-H-O-D-E-S. It’s Brandon Rhode’s band.”

  “Bailey’s Brandon?”

  Red nodded as he slipped his jacket on. “Yep, and they’re good. Bailey will be there, as well as Melissa and her husband. Annie was still undecided when she left yesterday.”

  “Sounds fun, count me in.”

  Swallowing the urge to release a big ole Ai-Yee, the Cajun equivalent of Yee-Haw, he simply nodded. “That’s great,” he said, on his way to the door. “You’re more than welcome to come with me if you’re willing to go early and stay late.”

  She followed him as far as the front porch. “Can I let you know later?”

  “Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

  “Definitely, and thanks again for the help, Red.” She gave him a big hug. “It’s nice to have good friends.”

  He pulled back and brushed a curl back from her cheek, resisting the urge to kiss her. “Anytime, Doc.”

  <><><>

  Red silenced the radio in his truck to answer his ringing cell phone. “Hello.”

  “McAllister...”

  That voice...THE voice...had every ‘Spidey’ sense he possessed tingling. It still sounded warbled, like he was using some kind of distorter. “Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but I think you have the wrong guy.”

  The voice on the other end of the line chuckled sadistically. “No chance of that. I know exactly who I’m speaking to.”

  “Did I do something to piss you off?” Red asked, trying to glean as much information as he could from this guy.

  The voice paused. “You could say that.”

  “Then tell me, what the hell did I do?”

  <>

  The caller flicked his cigarette butt out of the truck window. You killed my brother you son of a bitch. “When I want you to know—you’ll know,” he growled.

  “Maybe you have the wrong guy.”

  “Don’t worry McAllister, I know what you did, even if you don’t.” He pulled a toothpick out of his pocket and placed one end in his mouth then hung up.

  Chapter 8

  Red’s was wall to wall people, packed to its legal limit, and starting to bubble with action by ten p.m. They’d been turning people away for an hour, always a great sign for a club, and so far, not an iota of trouble. Red had just finished speaking to the head bartender when the unmistakably sexy voice with a thick Creole accent spoke from behind him.

  “Hey beau, you got a hug for a cher ami?”

  He turned to see a familiar pair of beautiful, green eyes sparkling from behind coal black lashes.

  “Angelique! Comment ca va?” he asked the tall, voluptuous, dark haired, Creole beauty.

  “Horny as hell, how about you?” she asked.

  “I’m fine actually.”

  She stepped back to openly ogle him. “Ca se bellesir, Red. Damn if you don’t get better looking every year!”

  Red nodded his thanks. “Look who’s talking. You’re still as gorgeous as ever. What brings you back to Lafayette?”

  The woman rolled her eyes. “Visiting mon vieux monde for the holidays.”

  “How are your parents?”

  “They’re good, but if I had to sit through one more minute of watching ma pere sleep in the recliner while ma mere watched another re-run of ‘Everybody Loves Raymond’, I’d lose my freaking mind.” She grabbed his arm and jerked him toward the dance floor. “Come on Red, allons danser!”

  Red took her into his arms and they swayed to one of the soft, bluesy ballads of Marc Broussard and his band.

  Angelique’s arms looped around his neck and she pulled herself closer, rubbing herself provocatively against him. “What do you say Red? Would you like to take me back to your place when we leave here?”

  “I don’t have a place in Lafayette anymore, Angel. I sold the house here and bought a ranch outside of Lake Coburn.�
�

  She looked at him in horror. “Why would you do that?”

  “I have friends there, one whose wife is expecting my twin Godchildren, and I’m opening up another club there.”

  She waved her finger in front of his face. “Non, non, non, Red baby, that’s why you hire people to take care of things like that for you. And by the way, I have a Godchild I see twice a year...for birthdays and Christmas. Unload the ranch—” she said, not bothering to hide her disdain, “—and move back to Lafayette where you belong. Meanwhile...” she purred, rubbing up against him suggestively, “...we could go to your office down the hall and lock the door. What do you say, Red? Allons piquer, oui?”

  “Angel,” he said, trying not to show how truly disinterested he was by her suggestion. He removed her arms from his neck and took one step back. “We’ve been through this before, sweetie, and decided it’s better if we’re just friends.”

  Her lower lip pushed out in a provocative pout. “That was before I realized that there are no more good men out there. Come on Red, one more for old time’s sake. No other man has ever made me feel what you could,” she breathed into his ear. “Work your magic on me one more time. Let’s rent a hotel room for tonight. Just one more night of great sex for good measure,” she said, pulling his face close for a kiss.

  Red pulled away from her. “Arret ca, Angel! Stop! You know we’d only end up hurting each other, and I don’t want that.”

  She pouted prettily again, but finally relented. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on. I haven’t had it in awhile, and I’d be a real wildcat for you tonight.”

  Red chuckled. “I appreciate the offer, but no.”

  She gazed at him suspiciously. “Have you met someone?”

  “I’ve met plenty of people since you.”

  Angelique shook her head. “Are you in love with someone?”