Bourbon Street Blues (11 page)

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.”

B
Y
S
ATURDAY 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.

Pretty slender thread of hope, but at this point, he’d take it.

Climbing out of his car, he walked around it and stepped up onto the sidewalk right in front of her.

“What do you want, Parker?” She checked her wristwatch, then glanced off down the street.

“Who’re you looking for?” Irritation spiked inside him as he wondered who she was waiting to meet.

She shot him a look. “I called for a cab. It’s late.”

“Cab?” He shoved both hands into his jeans’ pockets. “Where you headed?”

Sighing, she stared into his eyes. “That’s none of your business.”

“It’s just a question.”

“Fine. I’m looking at a house. Satisfied?”

“You’re moving?”

“Possibly,” she murmured, checking both ways on the street again in disgust. Still no cab.

“Holly,” he said, “I need to talk to you.”

She sighed. “Parker, it’s a nice day. I don’t have to worry about anything until I go to work tonight. I’d like to just relax and enjoy it.”

“Good idea. I’ll help.”

“I can’t enjoy it if you’re here.”

“Ouch.” He rubbed one hand against his chest. “Nice shot.”

She pushed her hair back impatiently. “I’m not trying to hurt you, Parker, I’m just…”

“Trying to get rid of me.”

“Well, yeah.”

“I’ve been trying to talk to you for days.”

“I know.”

“Too scared to hear me out?” He watched as his words hit her and wasn’t disappointed to see a flicker of anger in her eyes.

“You don’t scare me.”

“Prove it.”

“For heaven’s sake, what are you? Twelve?”

He grinned. It wasn’t much, but at least she was talking to him again. Going with it, he made chicken noises.

A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. “Fine. What is it you want to say? But make it fast, once my cab shows up, I’ve got to run.”

He glanced up and down the quiet street.

“No sign of your cab. How long ago did you call for one?”

“Twenty minutes,” she admitted, reaching into her black leather bag and dragging out her cell phone. “I’ll just call for another one.”

He grabbed her hand and held on, despite the frigid glare she shot at him. “Don’t. Let me drive you wherever you’re going.”

“Parker…”

“It’ll give me a chance to talk and you won’t be able to run away.”

“Who’s running?” she countered.

“You have been. And I’m still not sure why that bothers me. Come on. My car’s right here. You really want to wait around for another cab?”

She thought about it for a long minute. The toe of her shoe tapped against the sidewalk. “Fine. You can drive me there. I’ll call for a cab to pick me up and bring me home.”

“Okay,” he said, already ushering her toward the car. Of course, he had no intention of letting her call a cab. But they could talk about that later.

L
UC SMILED
at a hotel guest as she strolled across the lobby. Morning sunlight glittered off the hardwood floors, snatches of conversation drifted to him from the lobby seating area, and the reception desk was crowded with arriving conventioneers.

Life was good at the Hotel Marchand.

When his desk phone rang, he grabbed it and said, “Concierge, how may I assist you?”

“You can come up with something fast.”

Just like that, the light in the room dimmed, shadows reached out for him and panic reared up in his gut. Luc’s heart slammed against his chest, then damn near stopped. The smile slipping from his face, he turned his back on the hotel lobby and whispered viciously, “Richard? You shouldn’t be calling me here.”

He glanced over his shoulder, guilt rising up in him. Richard Corbin hadn’t contacted him for nearly a week. Luc had almost managed to convince himself that he and his brother Daniel had decided to back down from their plans to take over the Hotel Marchand.

He should have known better.

“Listen up, Mr. Concierge,” Richard was saying, his voice a low growl through the phone. “We’re running out of time. Mardi Gras’s almost here and we’re no closer to edging Anne Marchand out of that hotel.”

“I’m working on it,” Luc insisted.

Richard’s next words made Luc’s stomach drop.

“There’s no getting out of this. You’re in deep, buddy, and don’t forget it.”

Panic gnawed at the edges of Luc’s mind. He couldn’t see a way out. He didn’t have a clue what to do next.

“You’d better come up with some good ideas to
make that bitch sell. Otherwise we’ll have to step in, and I can tell you, people are going to get hurt.”

Richard hung up, but Luc still held the phone to his ear, the dial tone humming tonelessly. Mouth dry, heart pounding, he slowly, carefully replaced the receiver in its cradle.

“S
O WHERE ARE WE
headed?”

Good question.

Holly had been wondering that very thing for more than a week. Actually, almost since the moment she’d met Parker James. She never should have gone over to talk to him that first day. Never should have allowed herself to forget for even a second that nothing good could come of the two of them.

But she had, and now her heart was engaged and she couldn’t undo any of it. Oh, she’d tried. Desperately. For the last several days, every time a thought of Parker rose up in her mind, she shut it down quickly. But it didn’t seem to do any good. Whenever she slept, her brain was free to do as it pleased, and apparently it was determined to focus on Parker.

Her dreams were filled with him. And when she woke up alone, her heart ached.

“Hello?”

Holly heard the smile in Parker’s voice.

“Want to give me a hint about where we’re going?”

Holly slanted Parker a look, then turned her head to stare out the windshield again. Much easier to look at strangers, trees, traffic, than into those blue eyes of his.

“By Burke Park. Over on Annunciation.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said with a shrug. “It’s just, that’s the neighborhood I live in.”

Perfect
.

Instantly her back went up. “If you’re thinking this is just another one of my nefarious ‘plots’ involving you, you can forget about it. I didn’t know you lived there and—”

“Hey, hey, hey.” He lifted one hand from the wheel briefly in mock surrender. “I didn’t say anything. Just thought it was a coincidence. That’s all.”

“Fine.”

“So what’re we headed there for?”

To take a look at what could be Holly’s future. Through friends of friends, she’d heard about an old house that was going up for sale soon. According to every report she’d had on it, the place needed a lot of work, but it was selling for much less than it would
have otherwise. And her friend had gotten her the keys so she could look around.

In fact, it had felt too good to be true. Now that she’d learned Parker lived in the same area, she knew it was.

Still, she wouldn’t allow him to ruin this for her.

“
I’m
going to look at a house,” she said simply. “
You’re
being a cabdriver.”

“Right.”

Holly folded her hands in her lap, linking her fingers together tightly. “Look, you said you wanted to talk to me, so talk.”

Whatever he had to say to her, she would hear him out, then put it behind her. She wouldn’t let him hurt her again. Wouldn’t give him any more power to chip away at her heart.

He pulled up at a stoplight, tapped his fingers against the steering wheel and started talking.

“I’ve missed you, Holly.”

She swallowed hard. Damn it. This wasn’t fair. She didn’t want to know that he missed her. Didn’t want to start imagining that he had feelings for her. That would only make her nuts.

She cleared her throat and said, “You just saw me last night. At the hotel.”

“From the back of the room.”

Yes, but she’d seen him there. Felt his presence.
And she’d sung to him. She wondered if he’d known that. If he’d seen that her heart was in her song? Probably not.

She sighed heavily. “What is it you want from me, Parker?”

“Damned if I know,” he murmured, and stepped on the gas, taking a left turn on Washington Avenue.

Holly looked out the window at Lafayette Cemetery Number One. Some of the trees were gone now after Hurricane Katrina, but the tombs, the monuments, were still standing as silent sentinels to the past. Instinctively she dipped her head in a small show of respect for those buried there.

As they passed Chestnut Street, Parker said, “My house is right down there.”

Too close, she thought. Way too close for comfort. Even if she could swing buying this place…even if she made it her home, brought in the foster children she was determined to have…Parker would be practically around the corner.

Oh, God. How would she manage to live here and not think about him?

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “About our last night together. About what I said. What I thought.”

She turned to look at his profile and forced herself to remember every awful accusation he’d hurled at
her. If she could only find her rage again, that might be enough to protect her and keep her from acknowledging one very sad truth.

She loved him.

Holly winced, took a breath and held it. Yes, it was fast, but the simple truth was unavoidable. She loved his passion, loved his smile. She loved how he made her feel and, heaven help her, she even loved arguing with him. She hadn’t wanted to look at her own feelings and see them for what they were. But ignoring them wouldn’t make them go away.

She loved Parker James.

And she’d never have him.

Best to just get used to it now and learn to move on.

“Thanks,” she said. “I appreciate the apology. Even though you’ve said that before.”

“I’ve been thinking about that night, Holly. A lot.”

“Me, too.”

“And I need to know. Are you pregnant?”

She goggled at him for a second or two. “
That’s
what this is about? This apology? This little ride together for a heart-to-heart chat?”

“No.” His fists tightened on the steering wheel. “Well, not completely. Damn it, I’ve got a right to know if you’re carrying my baby.”

“Well, I’m not. At least, I don’t know yet.”

“When will you know?”

“A few days.” She forced herself to keep looking at him. “But even if I am—”
God forbid
“—you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Meaning…?”

“Meaning, I’ll take care of the baby myself. I already told you I don’t want anything from you, Parker. I don’t know how to be more clear than that.” She pointed. “That’s Annunciation. Turn right.”

“Holly, if you’re pregnant, then we
both
take care of that baby.”

“No thanks,” she muttered. “My baby won’t need a ‘duty’ daddy. There it is! Pull up here.”

He parked and turned to look in the direction she’d indicated, but Holly barely noticed. All she could see was the house—and possibilities.

It was huge. Four chimneys, three stories and ironwork railings on the balconies. Faded pink paint was peeling from the sides of the house, and the weeds and grass were high enough to give an invading army plenty of cover. The windows were dirty and the surrounding trees looked like gnarled old men gathered for a bitching session.

“It’s…” she said.

“It’s…” he said.

“Perfect.”

“Hideous.”

“What do you know?” Holly demanded before opening her door and leaping out of the car. She was halfway across the street before Parker caught up to her. Taking her elbow in a firm grip, he refused to be shaken off. “Oh, look,” she said. “The front porch is great. Wraps all the way around the house.”

“Probably the only thing holding it up.”

“The yard’s so big, and those trees…”

“…look like they’re going to topple over on top of the place.”

“
Four
chimneys,” she said dreamily, not even listening to Parker now, so caught up in a vision of children playing in the yard.

“Probably stuffed with birds’ nests and squirrels.”