Troy has worked for me and Michael since we opened our original spot in Auburn a few years back. We met in college, and after he did a couple of tours in Iraq, he came to visit us in Northern California and never left.
Over the years, he has proved himself a loyal employee and friend. When taking on this new account, Michael and I willingly asked Troy to step up and come to New Orleans with me to oversee the new club. A native of Louisiana, he accepted quickly, and we made plans to rent an apartment month to month in the garden district.
“Nah, I’m just at O’Brien’s.”
“O’Briens,” I can hear his grin through the phone. “Hurricanes it is. I will be there in five.”
The phone goes silent, and I sit it back down on the table in front of me. Scrubbing my hand over my jaw, I push back in my seat and let out a deep sigh as I take in the night around me. It’s dusk, and the outdoor patio I’m sitting on is taking on a whole new atmosphere as the sun sets.
Unsure how to navigate the memories of a past I tried hard to forget these last ten years, I know I have to make sense of it after the night Gwen and I spent together in Kentucky. It was easy to try to ignore the feelings that the redhead brought out in me while I kept her at arm’s length. Now, after I have tasted her again, there is no way I can let her go a second time.
There are many reasons I pushed her aside and ran all those years ago. But shit, if we are being honest, she left first. She left me after I let her in when I swore I would never let anyone get close and hurt me like my mother always hurt my father. I knew I couldn’t fix her sadness after her sister’s death, but I never expected her to run or leave me without a word, either.
The way I saw my mother treat my father was probably why I always played the field after Gwen. I honestly never thought Gwen was the type to hurt me the way I watched my mother hurt my father, but fuck was I wrong. It’s a hurt I’ve let fester all these years until our paths crossed in that damn airport bar.
I wrestled with letting her in all those years ago. Hell, I know she’s right and I always ran when shit got too real. But I always came back. I know it was shitty to assume she’d always be there, waiting for me. But back then, I was too young to think so far ahead to a time when I might need her more than I needed my next breath.
Troy walks toward me across the patio. Two signature O’Brien Hurricanes in hand. He reaches the table and hands me one.
“You drink this fruity shit?” I laugh.
“Screw you, Roberts. Don’t talk crap until you’ve tried it.”
Taking a sip, I’m surprised at how good the drink is and how much trouble I know I’ll get in after just a few. I raise my eyebrows and nod in approval as he sits across from me.
“Not bad, but I’ll stick with my beer.”
“Suit yourself,” he says, snatching back the drink. “More for me. So where is Gwen? After realizing we were on this assignment, I thought she'd be with you.”
Before I can answer, someone catches my eye across the patio. Straightening up to catch a better view, I see Gwen with one of the girls from the office earlier. They laugh and joke as they walk toward the open bar to order a drink. Her eyes meet mine, and she stops dead in her tracks. Troy turns around and looks in the direction of my stare. Gwen’s face softens when she sees him, then fills with a look I can’t decipher when her eyes once again lock on mine.
I’m just about to stand and make my way over to her when I notice someone walk up behind her. Eric. He grabs the side of her waist and pulls her close to whisper something in her ear before ordering over the counter at the bar.
Jealous rage fills me as I watch the two of them.
Gwen holds my stare and doesn’t break eye contact as her friend says something in her ear. Suddenly, Eric catches where she’s looking and gives me a curt nod. I didn’t want to be friendly with the man who has his hands on what I intend to make mine, but given our history, I guess I at least have to be polite. I nod back and watch as he grabs the drinks from the bartender, says something to Gwen, and starts to make his way over to our table.
“I guess everyone who comes to the French Quarter has to stop at O’Brien’s,” he says. “Wouldn’t be a trip to New Orleans without it, am I right?”
Gwen and her friend walk timidly behind him. She averts her eyes to the floor before reaching over and saying hi to Troy. He hugs her and offers her the chair next to him, but she hesitates.
“Care to join us,” I smile at Eric. “Didn’t get to talk much earlier. Why don’t you have a seat, and we can catch up?”
He sits, and both girls do the same. I keep my eye on Gwen, but she never looks my way.
“We’ll sit on one condition,” Eric says, getting comfortable in the patio chair across from me. “No business talk. I don’t want to spoil my first night in the Big Easy with shit that’s better left at the office.”
I nod. Motioning over a server, I plot a way to ditch everyone here and get Gwen alone before the night is through. She ran from me once, but she’s got another thing coming if she thinks I will let her run again.
The best way to start is to not let her out of my sight. It’s time we all got better acquainted, and there is nothing like a few drinks to take off the edge and loosen everyone up. I don’t know what happened between her and Eric earlier at the office, but suddenly, I feel the need to break whatever it is apart - even if it means breaking him in the process.
When the waitress approaches, I say, “Let me buy you all a round. Ma’am, can you bring us all another?”
“Only if I can buy the next,” Eric says, grabbing a hold of Gwen’s knee. My eyes fly to where his hand sits on her bare skin, and I resist the urge to fly across the table and knock it off her thigh. Without missing a beat, Gwen takes his hand off her knee and places it on his own.
I take the last sip of my beer just as Gwen looks up and catches my stare. My blood boils at the thought of another man’s hands on her, but the look she gives me quiets the demons inside. The ones that say all women are like my mother. I begin to hope she might mean all the things she said to me that night in the hotel room. That night she had me promising shit I never thought I would ever again. That is, until she left the following day without a word.
A nasty habit she has when shit gets too real.
