Labor of Love Page 2

No, my coming here had more to do with putting distance between me and home. Getting away, far away, worked for me. I had no desire to run into my ex-boyfriend. I was hoping that before school started his family would move to Alaska or Siberia. Never seeing him again would totally work for me.

  Nudging me, Amber whispered, “He has a really nice smile.” She nodded at the guy behind the counter.

  Okay, great. Amber, the skeptic, was suddenly a believer. I touched the brim of my white cap. “No hat.”

  I was a little taller than she was, and I wasn’t at all stocky. I wasn’t as tall or thin as Jenna, either. If we were in a fairy tale, I’d be the one who was just right—hey, it’s my fairy tale.

  “Maybe he just doesn’t wear it when he’s working,” Amber said.

  Maybe.

  “Are you a Kansas City Chiefs fan?” Amber asked the guy as he set our order on the counter.

  He scowled, as if he’d been insulted. “Are you kidding? Saints.”

  “Oh, right.” She gave me a look that said, What’s his problem?

  His problem was probably that he was working and we weren’t. I knew the feeling.

  We ordered sweetened tea, paid for our order, and sat at a nearby table.

  “Okay, so he wasn’t the one,” Amber said.

  “There is no ‘the one,’” I assured her, before sipping my tea. Nothing is better than sweetened tea on a hot day. I took a bite of my éclair. The filling was a combination of custard and cream, with a wicked amount of chocolate on top. Really good.

  “Ohmigod!” Amber exclaimed, after taking her first bite of praline. “This is the best I’ve ever tasted. It just melted in my mouth.”

  “I think New Orleans is famous for its pralines,” Jenna said.

  “Its pralines, its music, its voodoo, its beads. We’re going to have so much fun,” I said.

  “It’ll be the best summer ever,” Jenna admitted.

  “Although I think you’re wrong to swear off guys,” Amber said. “It’s like my dad is always saying: When you fall off the horse, the best thing to do is get back in the saddle.”

  I started shaking my head. We’d spent hours discussing the unfairness of it all. All I really wanted to do now was escape into summer.

  “I think Amber’s right,” Jenna said. “Look, we’re going to be here for six weeks. We’re bound to meet guys, guys who are available. Why not hook up with one? Just for fun, just to have someone to do something with? Have a summer fling? Get Drew out of your system, completely and absolutely.”

  Why not? Because it was scary to think about liking someone new, knowing how much he could hurt me. I didn’t know if I could do a casual relationship, if I could keep my heart from getting involved. I’d fallen for Drew really fast. And who could blame me? I mean, how many guys these days bring a girl flowers on their first date? And, okay, it was only three flowers, and I think he’d plucked them from my mom’s garden, but still—the thought counted.

  “Look, Drew was a jerk,” Amber said. “Chad would never hurt me like that. And I don’t care what the psychic said. He’s the one. I totally love him.”

  “Because you totally love him, I should hook up with somebody?” Amber is one of my best friends and I love her, but sometimes I can’t follow her thought process. Like the comment about the Corning Ware.

  “No, I’m just pointing out that not all guys are going to do something to hurt us.”

  “Just don’t say absolutely not,” Jenna said. “Keep yourself open to the possibility that you could hook up this summer—temporarily anyway.”

  “But we’re not here to hook up. We’re here on a mission.”

  “But I don’t see why we can’t combine guys and good works. I mean, think about it. Wouldn’t it be the sweetest revenge, to post pictures of you with a hottie on my MySpace page? Drew would know you were totally over him.”

  “I don’t care what he knows.” Okay, a part of me still did. Yes, he was a jerk; yes, he’d broken my heart. But for a while he’d been everything. He was the one who sat with me in the hospital waiting room when my grandma was sick—even though my parents were there. He was the first one I called when I passed my driver’s test. He was the one who got up at five in the morning to be first in line at the electronics store when their weekly shipment came in so he could give me a Wii for my birthday—because I wanted one so badly. Unfortunately I couldn’t play it now without thinking of him, so I’d stopped using it. Drew and I did so much together, he was a part of so many things that the memories formed a web, connecting everything and making me feel trapped.

  “I’m not hooking up with anyone. That’s final,” I said.

  Jenna shrugged. “Fine. Don’t. But I plan to.” Having finished her carrot cake, she reached into the box and took out a praline. “I mean, I’ve never even had a date.”

  “The guys at school are so stupid,” Amber said.

  Jenna smiled. “I guess.”

  “I think you both should get boyfriends while we’re here,” Amber said.

  How many times did I have to say no?

  “If we did, you’d be hanging out alone,” I felt compelled to point out.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Amber said. “I’ll always find someone to hang with. As my dad says, I’ve never met a stranger.”

  “I’ve got a crazy idea.” Jenna leaned forward, her blue eyes twinkling. “We should go to a voodoo shop and have a hex put on Drew and get a love potion for me.”

  “No thanks. I’m still freaked out about the psychic reading,” Amber said. “I’m not sure if I’m ready for voodoo rituals.”

  The bakery door opened and three guys wearing sunglasses sauntered in. They looked a little older than us. College guys, probably. It looked like they hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. Scruffy—but in a sexy kind of way.

  They were wearing cargo shorts, Birkenstocks, and wrinkled T-shirts. They grinned at us as they walked by our table. The one in the middle had a really, really nice smile.

  He was also wearing a red cap.

  A red cap with a Kansas City Chiefs logo on it.

  Chapter 2

  “Ohmigod, that’s your guy!” Jenna whispered excitedly.

  It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be.

  I was trying not to hyperventilate, trying not to lose it. There were probably a hundred guys in the city wearing that hat. Maybe a Kansas City Chiefs’ fanatics convention was going on. Or a preseason game. Was it time for preseason games yet?

  I shook my head fast. “No, he’s not.”

  Amber leaned across the table and said in a low voice, “Is anyone else totally freaking out here?”

  “Don’t you think he’s her guy?” Jenna asked.

  “Well, yeah! Absolutely.”

  “It’s just coincidence.” I sounded breathless. My heart was pounding hard.

  “I’d buy into that if he was wearing a Saints hat. But Kansas City? Why would he be wearing that?” Jenna asked.

  “Maybe he’s from Kansas City.”

  “But what are the odds—”

  “Look, people visit here from all over. Saraphina probably saw him at some point, and he stayed on her mind and when she was tapping into things, she tapped into her own memory, not my future.”

  That was the logical explanation, and I liked logical.

  “He’d sure stay on my mind,” Amber said. “He’s totally hot.”

  Her brown eyes widened. “Oh gosh, don’t tell Chad I noticed another guy. He would so not understand.”

  “You don’t think guys with girlfriends notice other girls?” Jenna asked.

  “Once you’re with someone, that should be your focus,” Amber said, but she didn’t sound as though she was totally convinced—and she was still eyeing the guys at the counter, with almost as much interest as she had for the pralines.

  “My brother says even though he’s ordered the entrée, he can still look over the menu,” Jenna said.

  Her brother—the personal trainer—was five or six ye
ars older than she was and living with his girlfriend. If a guy was living with me, I would not want him still looking over the menu.

  “Yeah, well, sometimes that can make you change your order. Just ask Drew,” I said.

  “I guess, but still it seems a shame not to be able to look at all,” Jenna said. “And I’m crushing on actors all the time. Does that count?”

  She’d developed a thing for Nick Simmons. It didn’t hurt that he was six feet seven inches tall. She had every episode of Gene Simmons: Family Jewels still saved on her TiVo.

  “That’s just fantasy,” I said.

  And I didn’t want to admit it, but the guys who’d just walked in were sort of fantasy, too. I mean, I couldn’t see a college guy really being interested in me, and these three were definitely not in high school. They seemed too confident, cocky almost, but not conceited. Hard to describe.

  I looked toward the counter. With one smooth motion, Red Cap removed his sunglasses. Our eyes met. From this distance, I couldn’t tell the color, but they looked dark. He smiled. He really did have an inviting smile—a smile that promised fun and maybe…more. As though suddenly embarrassed, or maybe he was shy, or not impressed with me, he turned away and said something to one of his friends. The guy he was talking to was amazingly tall.

  “How tall do you think that other guy is?” Jenna asked.

  “Which one specifically?” I asked.

  She glowered, because I was giving her a hard time. It was obvious which one she was referring to.

  “Over six feet. Easy,” I said. “Maybe close to six six.”

  I could hear the guys talking in hushed tones, not what they were saying, but I was pretty sure they weren’t discussing the pastry options. Maybe I’d picked up some of Saraphina’s psychic abilities.

  “I think we should probably go,” I said.

  “Why?” Jenna asked. “We’re not on a schedule.”

  She was making eye contact with the tall guy. He’d removed his sunglasses, and his eyes were definitely a light color, blue or green.

  “Stop that,” I whispered. “What if they come over?”

  “What if they do?”

  Okay, this was embarrassing to admit because I had at one time, after all, had a boyfriend, but the truth is, I didn’t have a lot of experience flirting. Drew and I got together pretty soon after Mom gave me permission to start dating, and you don’t flirt with your boyfriend. I mean, I never flirted with Drew.

  I was tutoring him in math after school—part of a program sponsored by the National Honor Society—when he said he was having trouble with a really complicated formula. Then he wrote out Dawn + Drew = x.

  He’d looked at me with those gorgeous blue eyes of his and asked, “Could x equal date?”

  And yep, as corny as it was, I’d fallen for it. Totally. That was the middle of my sophomore year, and we’d been together until our junior prom when I’d realized the answer wasn’t an absolute constant—that the equation contained hidden variables.

  “Look, I’m really not ready to deal with this.” I shoved back my chair and stood.

  Jenna rolled her eyes and did the same, while Amber closed up her praline box.

  “Whoa! You’re tall.” Tall Guy had walked over and was smiling at Jenna.

  Jenna smiled. It was the first time she didn’t seem embarrassed by her height. I had a feeling if he asked how tall she was, she’d tell him six feet. No problem.

  “So are you,” she said.

  Tall Guy shot an air ball at an imaginary hoop just over Jenna’s head.

  “You play basketball?” Jenna asked.

  He nodded. “You?”

  “Swim team.”

  He grinned really broadly. Nice smile. Really nice smile. Maybe all guys had nice smiles, and Saraphina’s prediction meant nothing.

  “I like those uniforms better,” he said. “A whole lot better.”

  “They’re not uniforms. They’re swimsuits.”

  He just winked at her, and I could see her cheeks turning red.

  The guy behind the counter, oblivious to the flirting going on, rapped his knuckles on the glass case. “Hey, big guy, you want something or not?”

  I sort of expected Tall Guy to point at Jenna and say, “Yeah, I want her.”

  But he didn’t.

  All three guys turned their attention to the clerk.

  I could tell Jenna was disappointed that the flirting session had so easily and swiftly come to an end. With her cheeks turning even redder, she headed toward the door. Amber and I hurried to catch up.

  “See ya!” Tall Guy called out.

  Smiling, Jenna looked back over her shoulder and waved. Once we were outside, she said, “Was he interested or not?”

  “I think boys always choose food over girls,” Amber said. “It’s a caveman mentality of survival.”

  “Do you even know what you’re talking about?” Jenna asked.

  “Not really, but it was getting a little intense in there.”

  “I thought you were okay with Dawn and me hooking up with someone, that you never met a stranger?”

  “I am okay with it; I just wasn’t ready for it to happen five minutes after we started talking about it.”

  “So maybe we should have stayed.”

  “But we were finished eating,” I pointed out.

  “So? Would it have been a bad thing to be obvious that I was interested?”

  “Do you want to go back in?” I asked. “Because if you really want to—”

  Jenna shook her head. “Nah, no reason to go back in now. It would make us look fickle or something. Maybe desperate. Besides, it’d just be a one-night thing, and we’re supposed to be in front of the gate to Jackson Square at eleven tonight so Ms. Wynder can pick us up. Not sure I want to admit I have a curfew to an older guy. But he was certainly tall.”

  “And cute,” Amber said.

  “The curfew isn’t really a curfew. I mean, Ms. Wynder is providing transportation, because we don’t have a car,” I said.

  “She’s responsible for us. Chaperone. Sort of,” Amber said.

  There were three other volunteers, six of us in all. Because Ms. Wynder had organized our group, she’d promised to look out for us, but it wasn’t a school trip and no one had signed any binding contracts, consent forms, or legal documents. She’d driven us here in her minivan and arranged for us to stay in the dorm. She’d provided transportation to the French Quarter with the promise to pick us up later and the warning to not get into any trouble. Although I wasn’t exactly sure what she’d do if we did get into trouble. Call our parents, I guessed.

  But was she really a chaperone? If she was, wouldn’t she have stayed with us, kept an eye on us, instead of cutting us loose to find our own entertainment? Although to be honest, I was glad she hadn’t tagged along. I think she’s, like, thirty.

  “You girls are going to be seniors in the fall. I trust you to be responsible,” she’d said when she dropped us off.

  Telling us she trusted us was tricky on her part, because it made us feel like we had to behave. Not that we were known for getting into trouble or walking around with fake IDs, but still. Away from home, parents, and anyone who knew us…

  I think we’d planned to do a little misbehaving.

  I thought of the inviting smile in the bakery. I was probably crazy to have walked away. Why was it so scary now to even think about getting together with a guy?

  I hated Drew. He made me question everything.

  “So what are we gonna do tonight?” Jenna asked as we crossed the street after a horse and carriage rattled by.

  I almost said that I wanted to ride in a carriage, but it seemed like such a touristy thing to do. Of course, we were tourists, so I supposed it would be okay.

  Pointing to a door where a sign proclaimed TAROT CARD READINGS, Amber said, “Maybe we should pop in there. You know, verify what the psychic told us.”

  “Or maybe we should have our palms read,” Jenna suggested. “See if
Tall, Dark, and Handsome back there is in my future.”

  “If he was, don’t you think Saraphina would have said something?” I asked.

  “I guess there’s no way to interpret ‘fire that doesn’t burn’ as applying to him,” Jenna said.

  “Maybe if he had red hair,” Amber suggested.

  But his hair had been dark, buzzed short.

  “Could ‘fire that doesn’t burn’ mean passion that doesn’t happen?” Jenna asked.

  I was totally confused.

  “What?” Amber asked, obviously confused, too.

  “Maybe there would have been passion between us, but I walked away.”

  Actually, I thought, that sort of made sense.

  “If that’s the case, then you were supposed to walk away,” I said.

  “So why predict it? So I live with regret?”

  “Who knows? I bet people go insane after a reading, trying to interpret what everything means,” I said.

  Jenna laughed. “I am obsessing, but you know me and puzzles. I’ll stop thinking about it now.”

  “Sure you don’t want to have a tarot reading?” Amber asked.

  “I’m sure. Let’s just walk around. We’ve got six weeks to explore things, and I’m not really sure I want the future confirmed. I mean, in theory, it sounds like a good idea, but it’s just not nearly as reassuring as I thought it would be.”

  The French Quarter had been spared most of the devastation that had hit the other areas of New Orleans. There wasn’t much traffic, other than foot traffic. I think it was because the streets were so narrow that cars barely missed swiping other passing cars and everyone had to drive so slowly. I wouldn’t want to drive here. Better to park at the outskirts and walk or catch a streetcar.

  The buildings revealed interesting architecture, kind of romantic. A lot of brick with wrought-iron balconies decorated with flowers. It reminded me of the Lestat vampire novels. I was a huge Anne Rice fan. Before the summer was over, I wanted to see her house in the Garden District. I could imagine vampires walking these streets. And we hadn’t even been here at night yet.

  By the time we hit Decatur Street, the sun had dropped behind the buildings and dusk was settling in. We were really hungry, our afternoon snack a couple of hours behind us. Even finishing off Amber’s pralines while we’d explored various avenues and shops hadn’t ruined our appetite.