Eagle's Destiny (31 page)

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Authors: C. J. Corbin

BOOK: Eagle's Destiny
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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

 

 

The next morning Nancy and I were up early again.  Early enough for room service breakfast.  We talked over coffee.  It was a busy day ahead, the book signing in St. Louis from noon to six and then a flight to New Orleans.  By this point, I had forgotten what day it was and Nancy had to remind me it was Friday, one more week on the tour.  I should have been enjoying the trip more and usually did.  This time it was different though.  I had someone waiting for me at home.  Somebody wonderful who was sending me flowers.

Nancy and I arrived in New Orleans late in the evening.  Our hotel was in the French Quarter and as expected, it was crowded even for a Friday night.  I was thankful that my bedroom faced the courtyard, which meant it would be quiet.  The book signing was from noon to six and then we would have the whole evening and Sunday free.  We would fly to Phoenix on Monday morning.

Nancy came with me to my rooms first.  She was as curious as I was to see if there would be flowers. 
She
spotted them first.  They were sitting on the table in the front room.  Six pink and six red roses were in the vase.  My heart almost leapt out of my body. 

Nancy only said one word.  “Wow.”

If I could have hugged them, I would have.  I hadn’t spoken with Michael since Chicago.  I would track him down somehow. 

“This one is a keeper.”  She whispered to me, “He’s for real.”

I just nodded.  I hadn’t looked at the card.  I didn’t want to with Nancy in the room.  I wanted to cry by myself and I was holding it together just enough to say goodnight to her.  Nancy understood without me having to tell her.  She quickly left me alone.

I opened the French windows looking out over the Quarter and sat in the heavily brocaded chair by the window.  Slipping the card slowly out of
the envelope I read it aloud, “
Elizabeth, you brought a new kind of love to me.  Michael
.”  I gasped, and the tears slowly trailed down my face.  “Oh Michael.”  I wiped the tears away and dialed his cell phone number.

Michael answered the phone with the first ring.  My heart wanted to sing when I heard his voice.  “Elizabeth, how is my woman?”

I smiled, “Hi Michael, you’re some kind of incredible.”

“I am?” he questioned, “Why do you say that?”

“I love the flowers.  You are so sweet.”  I said.

Michael laughed, “I want to be something more than sweet.  I want to be your sexy hunk of a man.”

I laughed.  “Oh you’re more than that.  You know you are spoiling me.  You shouldn’t be spending all your money.  You have daughters in college.”

“You deserve to be spoiled.  Indulge me.”  He said it very softly.  “Have you had a chance to look at your email?”

“No, I just got into the room.  Did you send more pictures of the dogs?”  I asked.  I went over to my laptop bag, pulled out my computer, and turned it on.  Michael stayed on the phone with me as I got on the internet.  There was an email from Tammy and right below there was one from Michael.  The subject line on his email read “Private.”  I opened his email and found a photo attachment.  “Did you send me a picture?”  I asked.

“Open it and see.”  Michael laughed.

The photo took a moment to download.  As it opened, I struggled for my breath, “Michael, you didn’t?”

“If I see it spread on the internet, I’ll know who did it.”  He said laughing.

“I could make a lot of money with this one.”  I sighed.  The picture was of him in his bathtub.  The bubbles covered the important parts but I could clearly see his chest and he had his legs propped up together on the ledge of the tub.  Completing the effect were burning candles surrounding the tub.  The picture was deliciously sexy.  Michael’s eyes looked directly at the camera and I felt he was looking directly at me.  It made me shiver, in a very good way.  “How did you take this picture?”

“Don’t worry, I was alone.”  Michael laughed, “You know I am a talented photographer and know how to take pictures on time release.”

“Well,” I cleared my throat.  “This is …” I paused for a moment while I tried to gather my thoughts.  I heard Michael chuckling in the background.  “Hmmm, this is definitely yummy.  You are my sexy hunk of a man.”  I was wondering how I could upload the picture into my iPad because I couldn’t go around with my computer on all the time, or could I?

“I’m glad you like it.  We’re going to have to take a picture of you for me and I know just how I want you posed.”

I giggled, “Oh, I don’t think that is ever going to happen.”

By the end of our conversation, Michael had me more than giggling.  Our banter had refreshed me and my bones did not feel as tired as before.  The laughter from the street below was strangely comforting to me also.  The breeze carried into my room
the
smells of rain on the Mississippi.  I had always loved New Orleans just for this reason.  The city did not have the hustle of New York or the sassiness of Miami.  It had its own personality, one of southern charm that captured long gone days.  Nights spent
on
a verandah
,
sipping a mint julep
, and
listening to a Cajun beat.  The first ideas of centering a new book in New Orleans arrived that night.

Before our conversation ended, Michael had reminded me that the wife of his colleague would be coming to the book signing tomorrow.  He described her and asked me to be on the lookout for her since she was shy.

I crawled beneath the feather comforter and cuddled up against the feather pillows, everything almost felt like home.  The courtyard that the bedroom faced was quiet.  The trees were rustling as the breeze increased.  The lace curtains fluttered and I heard the first drops of rain.  The sound of
the
rain lulled me softly to sleep.

The next morning
we
a
greed to meet in the lobby
.  We
walk
ed
to Café Du Monde for the
ir
chicory coffee and donuts.  It had rained hard during the night and the streets were still wet.  The humidity and heat had not set in yet, but the threat was there.  The outdoor café was located on the river.  We ordered our
café au lait
and
beignets
,
and then
sat out
side
under the covered patio.

I had found the secret to eating the powdered sugar
beignets
was not to breathe while taking a bite.  If you inhaled, your lungs filled with the powdered sugar and you had a coughing fit.  Exhaling was almost worse, that created a chest and lap
ful
l
of powdered sugar.  Yes, it was better not to breathe at all until the morsel was safely in your mouth.  Nancy and I still ended up blowing powdered sugar at each other
while we were
laughing.

The small shops in the French Quarter were opening as we walked slowly back to the hotel.  We window-shopped
,
sipping the last of our second coffees.  The limousine was waiting for us when we arrived
back
at the hotel.  The ride to the bookstore was a short one.

Posters of my book and balloons decorated the outside of the store.  A Zydeco band was playing.  The line of fans had already formed.  This was a party atmosphere, I almost hated going inside the store.  If I expected the interior of the store to be quiet, I was mistaken.  This store had the music that was playing outside piped inside.  The store workers happily greeted me.  There were tables piled with food.  The store manager explained that they liked to have a party when there were book signings.  Everyone volunteered to bring in food and the cousin of one of the workers was providing the music.

I was delighted, not only with the welcome I received but with
everything.  Even though Nancy and I had just eaten breakfast, we sampled the food laid out on the tables.  We both found the food was spicy hot but delicious.

I happily signed books, posed for pictures, and spoke with fans.  In the late afternoon, one of the store workers brought a woman my age up to the table.  Marie introduced herself as the wife of Michael’s colleague.  She was excited to meet me and I wasn’t sure where Michael had gotten the idea that she was shy.

Marie was a tall, beautiful, redheaded,
and
stacked woman.  For a moment, I wondered if they were hers, but it was confirmed when she hugged me that her bosoms were natural.  “Oh chère, I’ve been looking forward to your visit to our city.”  She had a slight Cajun accent and even though Michael described her as a schoolteacher, she did not look like any teacher I ever had.

I grinned.  I liked her immediately.  She spoke with
us
for a few minutes
, and i
n that short time I felt like I’d known her for years. 

“I know you have to go back to your signing,” Marie said “but Tommy and I want you to come out to the house tonight for dinner.  We’re having some people out and we wouldn’t forgive ourselves if we didn’t show you two some southern hospitability.”

I looked at Nancy and she did not give me a look either way, “Marie that is very nice of you but we don’t want to impose on you.”

“Don’t talk baloney
chère

I’ve been planning this since Michael’s visit.  Everyone’s excited about meeting you.  Tom is even planning to take you to see the gators.  You will love it.”  Marie hugged us both, together.  Nancy and I nodded while caught up in her arms.  “Good,” Marie said releasing us, “my daughter Evelyne, will come and pick you up at seven.  You’re staying at Maison?”  Nancy and I nodded quickly.  “Wear something comfortable.”  She said as she turned, waved goodbye to us, and was gone.

Nancy and I stared at each other.  “Well this should be interesting,” she said dryly.  I laughed and nodded my head in agreement.

We finished with the event, thanked all the employees for the great experience and we were back in the limousine by quarter after six.  I spotted Evelyne in the lobby as soon as we walked through t
he doors.  She was hard to miss, because she was a
lmost an identical twin to her mother, but twenty years younger
.
  She wore shorts and a tank top and did not look comfortable in the fancy lobby.  We told her we would quickly change and be back downstairs in a flash.  She looked relieved that she would not have to wait until seven.

The gray pickup truck Evelyne led us to had seen better days, but she was obviously proud of the truck.  The three of us all squeezed into the front bench style seats and when she turned on the engine, the radio turned on to a Zydeco music station that almost blasted us out of the windows. 
Evelyne looked sheepish and turned the music down promptly, along with the “sorry,” she mumbled under her breath.

When she pulled onto the highway, she appeared to relax.  “I do not like to drive in New Orleans,” she pronounced it Nawleanns.  “Momma wanted to make sure everything was ready for your visit.”

I was sitting in the middle and Nancy was clinging to the door as if it were her very lifeline.  Evelyne was driving very fast, but she seemed to know where she was going. 

“It’s very nice of your family to have us out to your house.”
  I squeaked out.

“Are you kidding?  It’s all Momma talked about for the past week.  She’s so excited.  All her lady friends were together reading your books aloud,” Evelyne said looking over at me.  I secretly wished she would keep her eyes on the road.

“Have you read my books?”  I asked.

“Not yet.  Momma said when I graduate high school next year I can read them.  She said they are too adult.”

I nodded and agreed, “That makes sense.”  I couldn’t believe that Evelyne wasn’t over eighteen, because she looked like she could be twenty-five.  “How long will it take to get out to your house?”

“Oh we’re about thirty minutes away from the city.”  She stole another look at me, “So Daddy says you’re Uncle Michael’s new girlfriend.”

I coughed and sputtered, “Uncle Michael?” 

Nancy gave me a wild look.

“Yeah,” she nodded, “
H
e’s not really my uncle, but Daddy has known him ever since their college days.”

I tried to contain my astonishment, “So your father and Michael went to Santa Cruz together?”

Evelyne nodded again.  My thoughts were swirling.  I would have a few choice words with Michael tonight if I could.  At the very least, he could have prepared
me
for the meeting of what sounded like a close friend of his.  Evelyne went on to a different subject and kept us entertained until we reached the house.

We drove down a long tree lined driveway and pulled up in front of a white two-storied plantation style house.  There were small twinkle lights everywhere, in the trees, wrapped around the large columns on the portico.  The porticos on both the first and second floors appeared to
encircle
the entire house.  At least twenty parked cars were scattered in front and on the sides of the yard.  Groups of people gathered near the front steps.  The sun began to set over the bayou making
the scene
a postcard impression.

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