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“Central Grocery is closed, but we can try Maspero.”
“Let’s go for it.”
She turned her head again and he wondered if she thought he’d meant on some level other than dinner. Maybe he did mean it that way. Things had been so stressful lately with being out of work, depleting his savings, and dealing with his ex’s demands he’d pulled out of the dating scene months ago. He hadn’t been to dinner with a woman in a while… not counting his brother’s girlfriend the night before.
What would it hurt?
Tess had nice curves, a good sense of humor, and kept baseball stats. Not to mention she’d helped him out back at the bar. Something about her spontaneity and her self-assurance suited him that night. He liked a woman who knew what she wanted, who didn’t shrink from the fray, but waded in bold and in control of herself.
She reminded him of Monique in that way—decisive and thoroughly modern. But that’s where the comparison ended. Tess had a sweetness and honesty Monique lacked. He patted his breast pocket where he usually put his phone. Thinking of Monique reminded him of their daughter—he needed to call Emily before nine o’clock.
As they got closer to Maspero which sat across from Jackson Brewery, almost on the corner of infamous Jackson Square, the crowds thickened. Tourism reigned supreme in New Orleans. Here and there tourists gawked at street performers while others swigged beers in foam cups and eyed the open storefronts selling offensive T-shirts and Mardi Gras beads.
When they arrived at the restaurant, they found a short line. Graham gave the hostess his name and then motioned to the bar with a raise of his eyebrows.
“Abita Amber,” Tess shouted, a warm smile curving her mouth.
That smile made him forget all his troubles. He needed to recapture his previous mood. He’d nailed the interview—he’d read that much in the old man’s face. Graham had been in the zone, dressed to impress with the knowledge to back up his proposals. Everything in New Orleans was falling in place. Including getting his social life on track.
Stop overthinking and walk toward good things in life, Graham.
He paid and went outside, handing the icy beer to Tess, clinking the bottle with his. “To new beginnings.”
“And to your new job.”
“I’ll drink to that,” he said, lifting the bottle to his lips. In that instant he felt something swell in him he hadn’t felt in so long, not since he’d left New Orleans six years ago. Maybe it was joy. Or freedom. Or both. He wasn’t sure which it was, but he embraced the warmth, that feeling of possibility. All that lay withered inside him revived, swelling to life with sweetness.
After cashing out his 401K last month so Emily could continue going to the Montessori school she’d been attending for the past two years, he needed to feel good about something. To chase hope of a better future and pin it down.
Ten minutes later his name was called, and they slid into wooden chairs at a table facing the floor-to-ceiling doors looking out on Toulouse Street. Passersby strolled, collars up against the wind sweeping in with the cool front. A slight draft wafted in but it wasn’t enough to keep them from picking up the menu.
“I already know I’m blowing my diet on a shrimp po’boy,” Tess said licking her lips, a move that heated his blood.
What would she taste like?
Apples?
Or something spicier perhaps?
“And maybe some gumbo, too. Suddenly I’m starving.” She looked up at him.
Yeah. Him, too.
He cleared his throat and tried to tame his desire for her. This wasn’t a date… or maybe it was. He wasn’t sure what they were doing.
“You don’t have to buy my dinner,” Tess said, with a little shake of her head. “This isn’t really a date.”
“It’s not?” he asked.
“I don’t think so. Maybe it is.” She gave a wry twist of her lips. “In all honesty, I don’t know why I said I’d go to dinner with you. You’re a total stranger.”
“It’s not that different than meeting someone from a dating website if you think about it. In fact, it’s almost like an old-fashioned date. Two people meet, they’re attracted to one another, and then they—”
“You’re attracted to me?” she interrupted, a faint bloom in her cheeks. Then that bloom spread as she realized what she asked.
“I thought that was understood. Otherwise I’d be sharing stuffed mushrooms and wings with Angela and the girls.”
“Well, good to know. I’m pretty hungry, but I’d hate to think this was a mercy date.”
