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Jules’ cheeks turned the color of her lips. “Thank you.” She hid a smile as she gestured to a small foldout table at the back of the room. “I know it’s not much, but that’s for you, if you need it.”
“I appreciate it.” Cassie shook her head. “I’m sorry again about the mix up. I’m not really sure what to do while I wait.”
“Have you ever been to New Orleans?”
“Once or twice. But it was a long time ago. I wouldn’t know where to start.”
Jules’ eyes lit up, and Cassie regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. She liked Jules’ enthusiasm, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep up with the other woman’s pace. But it was too late to take back what she’d said.
“I can show you around the museum, including where we’re setting up the new exhibit.”
“I’d love that.” It was the truth. She’d never been to the NOMA, and even though she’d looked through the collection and as many pictures as she could, it wasn’t the same as visiting in the flesh. “Thank you.”
A man with black hair and sallow skin popped his head in the doorway. He had a faintly British accent. “All right, Jules? Who’s your new friend?”
“It’s Cassie Quinn from Savannah!” Jules didn’t bother hiding her excitement. Cassie didn’t think she’d be able to, even if she tried. “I’m going to show her around here in a minute. Want to join us?”
“Mack’s got me working on a new contraption for the modern wing.” The man looked over at Cassie and shook his head. “I’d apologize for her cheeriness, but there’s no getting around it. Coffee’s in the breakroom if you need it. And you will.”
“Go away, Ashford.” Jules rolled her eyes, but she never stopped smiling. “Let me have my fun.”
“Full name, ouch. Hit a nerve then.” He stepped into the room and held a hand to Cassie. “Call me Ford. Will you be coming out for drinks later?”
“Oh, um.” Cassie looked to Jules, who barely suppressed a squeal, and decided she didn’t have the heart to say no. “Yeah. Of course. Sounds fun.”
6
Cassie thanked the server as he set her fourth or fifth tequila sunrise in front of her. She couldn’t remember the name of the bar, but she knew she’d come back if given the chance. They had a good waitstaff with heavy pours, and their dinner had been hot, fast, and fresh.
Jules had insisted on ordering for Cassie, making her try a barbeque shrimp dip and Creole smoked sausage and even fried alligator. Everything had been incredible, and their table of six had emptied their plates in a matter of minutes.
Then came their entrees.
Cassie had ordered a shrimp po’boy, but Jules insisted she share her gumbo. Ford had gotten an entire seafood platter, and Cassie couldn’t begin to name what the others had. It all smelled and looked delicious, and she dug in without humility or grace. She had no shame when it came to good food.
That was an hour ago. They’d started ordering drinks immediately after, enjoying the cool breeze on the outdoor patio. It was a chilly evening for Louisiana, but the bar had placed stylish propane heaters near each table. It was warm enough that Cassie had slipped off her jacket and hung it on the back of her chair.
This was the best kind of dinner, one where Jules’ friends included her in the conversation but didn’t grill her about what she did or where she was from or how she liked the city. If she had something to say, she said it. And if she didn’t, the others made their own conversation. They were loud in a way where you wanted to be in on the jokes, and she found moments where she enjoyed their company, even if she still wanted to try out that jacuzzi tub back at her hotel.
Then there were the other moments, the ones in between the happiness where she remembered David wouldn’t be texting to check in, and she couldn’t pick up the phone to tell him she was at a dueling piano bar that he would’ve loved with every fiber of his being. The music emanating from inside was loud, and the raucous laughter accompanying the musicians’ muffled jokes throughout their sets made Cassie smile. She could see David raising a beer in salute to their talent.
But he would never be able to do that again. Someone had made sure of it. The tequila turned her grief into anger, and she drained her drink in one go. No one took notice when she ordered another.
She couldn’t decide if it would’ve been better to be by herself or surrounded by strangers she’d met a couple hours ago. At the very least, Jules and Ford’s banter was entertaining. They were so obviously in love with each other, yet there was a practiced distance between them. If they got too close, their gravitational pull would keep them from ever escaping.
Cassie then thought of Jason. She wondered where he was and what he was doing. She knew he had taken a few days off to attend a funeral, but he hadn’t offered specifics, and she didn’t want to pry. Their text messages, while short and sporadic because of their current schedules, still filled her with a sense of hope. And longing.
Jules leaned over to her. “Twenty-six.”
Cassie thought the music had warped Jules’ words. “Huh?”
“Twenty-six.” Jules pointed to Cassie’s phone. “You’ve picked up your phone and immediately set it down twenty-six times in the last hour. Who are you hoping will send you a message?”
“No one.” When Jules raised an eyebrow in disbelief, Cassie rolled her eyes. “This guy. He works at the museum back in Savannah. He just hasn’t texted me in a while, that’s all.”
“That means you should text him first.”
“I don’t want to bother him.”
