Bourbon Street Blues (10 page)

The woman had missed her calling. She should have been a police detective. There wouldn’t be an unsolved crime in the county. That patience, those steady, knowing eyes, would coerce confessions out of the most hardened criminal.

“You slept with him, didn’t you?”

Holly winced. “Sleep wasn’t a big part of last night’s festivities, but yeah. I did.”

“And now you’re thinking it was a mistake.”

“God, yes.” She leaned back in her chair, popped the rest of the fried dough into her mouth and chewed.

“Wouldn’t be the first time a woman’s made a mistake with a handsome man.”

“True enough.”

“However, he’s not Jeffrey, you know.”

Although it shouldn’t have, her acuity startled Holly. “Sometimes you’re almost eerie.”

Shana laughed, a low, throaty sound that rippled through the kitchen and settled over Holly like a warm blanket. This room held so many good memories. The warmth. The family. The laughter and, yes, even the tears spilled here—memories she desperately needed at the moment.

And Shana was at the heart of it all.

“It’s not magic, honey. A mother knows when something’s wrong with her child. That’s all.”

In spite of everything, Holly felt a little better.

“I know he’s not Jeff,” she said softly. “But, well, we had this huge fight after we— After we had sex, something happened and he started shouting and then I yelled back at him and finally, he just left.”

“Uh-huh. So now, you’re thinking that he’s just another Jeffrey. That he set you up, used you and then tossed you aside?”

“No.”
Holly scowled thoughtfully. “I considered it last night, I’ll admit. But by this morning, I knew it wasn’t true.”

“That’s good. Instincts are usually on target.”

“My instincts suck,” Holly admitted. “I never saw Jeff for what he was.”

“You had blinders on back then, girl. You
wanted
to be in love. Wanted that fairy-tale ending most children dream of.”

“And now?”

“Now, you weren’t looking for love at all. And yet, it seems you found it.”

Holly visibly started. “Who said anything about love?”

“I believe that was me.”

“It sure as heck wasn’t me!” Holly jumped up from her chair as if she’d been scalded. Her insides jittered and twisted, and she slapped one hand to her belly to settle them down a little so she could think.

Of course, that hand on her belly brought other thoughts to life, so settling down didn’t seem to be an option.

Pacing helped. The heels of her boots clacked against the linoleum as she marched to the kitchen sink, did an about-face and marched right back again. Brain racing, heart pounding, she kept walking back
and forth, over and over again. Through it all, Shana said nothing. She simply sat there, watching her, waiting for Holly to sort out her thoughts and find answers on her own.

At last Holly stopped and leaned against the counter’s edge as if she simply didn’t have the strength to support her own body.

“I don’t want to love him,” she said, her voice flat, emotionless.

“I can understand that.”

“Seriously, Shana. He’s rich, he’s irritating. He jumped down my throat last night over something that so wasn’t my fault. He wouldn’t listen. He said some really ugly things.”

“And were you quiet and kind and standing there mutely like a target?”

“No.” She smiled wryly. “I gave back as good as I got, but the things he was saying, Shana—it was irrational. He kept accusing me of trying to trap him—” Her lips twisted. “Like he’s some great catch that women all over New Orleans are lining up to get a shot at.”

“Were you trying to trap him?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why let words spoken in anger define how you’re feeling about the man?”

“Because he was an idiot.” Her nails tapped indignantly against the countertop.

“True. But if you’re looking for someone who never makes mistakes, you’re going to be mighty lonely.”

“Maybe lonely is better.”

Shana snorted. “You don’t believe that at all.”

“Be easier if I did.”

“Nobody said life was easy.”

“I thought he was different,” Holly muttered, and folded both arms across her chest, holding her hurt close. She could still see Parker’s accusing eyes as he’d looked at her. She could still hear his voice and the ugly words he’d thrown at her.

Everything about it hurt.

More than she wanted to admit.

“You thought he was different, but still, a part of you compared him to the man in your past.”

“I guess.”

“Maybe he was doing the same thing.”

“Don’t think he has a man in his past,” Holly murmured.

“Smart aleck.”

Frowning, Holly met Shana’s dark, all-seeing eyes. “Why are you on his side?”

“I’m not.” Shana stood, walked over to Holly and gave her a tight hug. “I’m on your side. Like always.
I’m just saying that I think there’s more to what you’re feeling than simple anger. And a lot of it is because of what Jeffrey did to you. What he made you feel.”

“That’s over and done with.”

“I don’t think so.” Shana cupped Holly’s cheeks in her hands. “Oh, he’s gone and you don’t love him anymore. But he cut you deep. On a level no man had ever touched before. He made you doubt yourself. Made you treat everyone around you with the suspicion you never showed him.”

“Maybe.”

“And if you continue to judge all men by the measure of the one who hurt you—then he’s not over and done with. And you’re still letting him decide how you should feel.”

Holly sighed and leaned into Shana’s comforting embrace. “I hate when you’re right.”

T
UESDAY MORNING
,
Parker still felt like a man on the edge.

He hadn’t drawn a single easy breath since Saturday night. Since he and Holly had ended their night with a battle. Just remembering everything that had been said made him wish he could change the way things had gone. Change the way things had ended.

He buried himself in work, putting in a full day at James Coffees and overseeing the jazz café every night, and when he finally did manage to get some sleep, he saw Holly’s face in his dreams.

Shuffling a stack of papers, he stared down at the printed lines and saw only black smudges against the white. How the hell could he concentrate on anything when he kept seeing Holly’s eyes flashing with anger, widening with shock and hurt?

If he could do it, he’d kick his own ass.

Parker dropped the papers, leaned back in his
chair and gave up the pretense of working. Damn it, he’d reacted all wrong that night with Holly. He knew she hadn’t planned to have the damn condom break. He knew, logically, that she wasn’t the vicious manipulator that Frannie had been. And yet, he couldn’t quite make his heart believe that completely.

He owed Holly an apology, but he didn’t trust himself to go see her. Because he still wanted her. Besides, after all he’d said to her, there was no way she’d let him get within ten feet of her, anyway. And who could blame her?

He jumped up from his chair and turned to stare out the window, focusing on the expanse of deep blue water that stretched out to the horizon. Banks of storm clouds hovered in the distance, as if gathering their forces for an assault on the city. Whitecaps smashed against the hulls of the ships heading into the harbor.

A storm rose up inside him, as well. For ten years he’d been married to a woman who’d lied with an ease that came with long practice. He’d learned to be distrustful and it wasn’t an easy thing to change.

Hell, he wasn’t sure it would be a smart move.

Wasn’t he entitled to protect himself? To guard his heart?

“Looks like you’ve got some dark thoughts today.”

Parker turned around abruptly and forced a smile as his father entered his office. A short man with a generous belly and an easy smile, Kemper James strolled across the room, hands in pockets, shirt-sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Frannie, isn’t it?” His father shook his head gloomily, sank into one of the chairs opposite Parker’s desk and sighed. “It was a mistake, Parker. Insisting you marry that woman. I want you to know how much your mother and I now regret ever putting you through it.”

Parker sat at his desk, tamping down the emotions raging within. “You didn’t know. And it’s as much my fault as anyone else’s. I could have said no.”

“You wouldn’t have. I knew you’d do as I asked.” Scowling, he added, “In my own defense, though, I was sure that the marriage would turn out all right. For both of you. Worked well for your mother and me.”

“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?”

H
OLLY 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 another 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.”