“Maison,” he said, eyes glinting under the blue neon light. “And you?”
“Lyrix.”
He nodded, like he was trying it on for size. “Pretty name. Sounds like you got a story behind it.”
“Oh, I got a few,” I said, taking a sip. “And a vision board to prove it.”
He raised a brow. “A what now?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
He chuckled, slow and amused. “Alright then, Vision Board.”
I smiled, finishing the drink in one gulp. “What happens now?”
He shrugged. “That depends. You fall in love yet?”
I looked him dead in the eye. “Ask me again after drink number two.”
He laughed again, deep and real, and I hated how much I liked the sound.
Just then, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Syn.
Dee did in fact cancel our plans. He also didn’t get paid, so I don’t have the extra to spend. Trip canceled. I hate that man.
I snorted so loud people turned to look.
Maison leaned over the counter, grinning. “You good?”
“Yeah,” I said, still laughing. “Just realizing I made the right choice coming here alone.”
He nodded, wiping the counter again, that teasing look never leaving his face. “You don’t sound like you alone to me.”
Something about the way he said it made my heart flip. I slid a twenty across the counter. “Thanks for the drink.”
He nodded. “You might want to keep that receipt. You don’t know what kind of spell you just bought.”
I smiled over my shoulder as I walked away. “If I wake up in love, I’m suing.”
His voice followed me out the door. “That’s why I made sure you got my number.”
It wasn’t even dark yet, but Bourbon Street was bourboning. Bands on every corner, couples stumbling out of bars, andsomebody’s cousin trying to give me a shot out of a Gatorade bottle.
I barely made it three steps before I heard a bass drop that made my knees unlock on command. A small crowd was dancing right in the street. One woman in a purple wig, two men in matching tank tops.
“Hell,” I said, tossing my purse strap over my shoulder. “Why not?”
Before I knew it, I was in the middle of the crowd, throwing it in a circle like I was trying to summon the ancestors. The bounce music was loud, fast, and disrespectful in the best way. Somebody yelled, “Ayyye! Work dat lil’ thang then!” and I lost every ounce of self-control I had left from therapy.
My ass was shaking, my hair was sticking to my forehead, and I was smiling so wide my cheeks hurt. One woman handed me a shot.
“Welcome to New Orleans, baby!” she shouted.
“Thank you!” I yelled back, because apparently I was in a musical now.
Then another woman handed me a second shot. Then a third. At that point, I was making friends, taking selfies, and declaring one of them my “trip twin” before realizing I didn’t even know her name.
For the first time in months, I felt free, unfiltered, and wild, like I was finally living my own damn story.
