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“Your eyes are shining.”
Mouth shutting, my head cocks to the side.
“Remember when you told me baseball was my love? You said my eyes lit up. You were right, and if I had to guess, you’ve found yours.”
His words give me pause, and then I smile. “I think I have. I interned at Burton this summer. Anywhere they needed me, I would help. I loved it.” Rolling onto my hip in my cramped airline seat, I angle towards Devin. “Now, speaking of shining eyes, tell me about being drafted by Miami and playing baseball.”
* * *
It’s after eleven by the time our driver pulls through the cobblestone portico of a classic stucco building in the heart of the French Quarter. A brick wall covered in ivy and gas lanterns to our left and double doors and an exterior iron staircase to our right.
“We’re staying here?” My eyes take in every detail as Devin slides out, one bag in each hand. I expected a chain hotel. Not this boutique place with all the quintessential details that make New Orleans famous.
He slings our duffles over one shoulder and takes my hand. “C’mon.”
The moment we step through the side door into a long reception area with a black and white tiled floor, I worry he’s bitten off more than he can chew. “As someone interested in sports management, I’m well aware of what minor league players make these days, Devin.”
He pumps my hand, ignoring me as a man with a thick southern accent, unlike any I’ve heard, welcomes us and asks for our names. Tugging away, I hurry for my purse, trying to pull my wallet and credit card out before Devin. I’m not even close. He eyes me as the man takes his card, and I frown.
“This is too much. You can’t afford all of this,” I hiss when the man disappears.
“Please don’t insult me.”
“I’m not—”
“You are.” Brown eyes turn molten
“I…”I am.“I’m sorry. It’s been a day, and I’m exhausted.”
His frustration evaporates, his arm looping around my back as he tucks me into his side. “Five minutes and we’ll be in our room, and you can sleep.”
Once we have our room key, we return outside and walk through the parking lot to another building. Entering a simple door, we head to the second floor. Devin must detect my confusion during our hike.
“The hotel is a bunch of detached historic buildings they’ve renovated. I think there are four or five.” He slips the key card into a wooden door and pushes it wide.
“Oh my gosh.” It’s snobby to admit I’m used to luxury, but I am. Grand rooms don’t phase me, but the French charm of this quaint hotel does. Maybe it’s because Devin found it and booked it for us that my heart beats a little faster. That, and the fact that there’s one bed.
My neck cranes behind me, catching him staring.
“Um, so the elephant in the room.” He sets our bags on the floor. “This was all they had tonight. We can move into a double tomorrow, but I wanted a balcony view and—”
I glance around. “There’s no balcony.”
“Actually,” Devin takes my hand and leads me toward the floor-to-ceiling window framed by rich jewel-toned draperies. “Check this out.”
Parting the curtains, he unlocks the old window, and the wooden frame squeals loudly as he lifts the pane, revealing a rooftop balcony.
“We can go out there?”
He sticks his head out. “Yeah, there are a few bistro tables. It runs the length of the building, but no one is out there right now. C’mon.” Crouching through the window, he offers his hand.
I step out into the humid Louisiana air and travel to a different place and time. In either direction, there are more balconied buildings and across from us is a small park, the giant oaks lit with spotlights highlighting the colorful beads dangling from their branches.
“This is so cool. Are those Mardi Gras beads? I have the sudden need to flash someone.”
Devin clears his throat. “I mean, I wouldn’t object.”
Elbowing his side, I move to the railing. I can’t believe I’m here, with Devin, on what was supposed to be my wedding night. If someone told me this morning—no, if someone told me five minutes before I read his letter—this is where I’d be, I’d have rolled my eyes and laughed in their face.
