Nigel’s posture stiffened. His eyes widened, and he clenched his jaw. His voice was low and urgent. “You have to hide me.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What are you, the headliner at a Renaissance fair or something?”
He didn’t laugh. He just looked at me, pleading. “It’s… complicated. Please.”
Something about the way he said it, with a hint of panic, his eyes not leaving mine, made my pulse skip a beat.
“Follow me, Lancelot.” I gestured toward the back.
Then I held up a hand like I’d spotted something urgent up front. “Hey, everyone, someone left their phone at the bar, and it’s been getting somefascinatingtexts from a girlfriend stuck at home!” I said it loud enough for half the bar to swivel their heads.
With the crowd distracted, Nigel slid off the stool, head down, as I eased him behind the bar and guided him through the back to a small office. Behind us, the crowd remained fixated on the fake misplaced phone, utterly oblivious to our escape.
Once the office door clicked shut, I crossed my arms and faced him. “So, Nigel Pimmington, care to tell me what you’re really doing here?”
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe we could skip the interrogation? I’m trying to lie low.”
His English accent had vanished, and he pushed his sunglasses onto the top of his cap. My stomach flipped, and my brain put the pieces together. His jawline was sharp, and his dark blonde hair was tousled, giving him a rugged charm. His blue eyes were startlingly bright, framed by lashes that seemed unfairly long for a man, and the faint scruff on his face added to his appeal.
“You’re Luke Fisher,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Hollywood’s golden boy. And somehow, he’d ended up at my bar.
2
LUKE
I was trapped.
I’d come to the bar to drop in on Mrs.?Brodie, my best friend’s mother, not to get cornered by fans, dodging camera phones and whispers like some fugitive. But now I was stuck in this back room, and the waitress who had shoved me in there didn’t look particularly sympathetic to my plight.
She leaned against the wall, her dark eyes cool and assessing, like she’d already decided I was the problem. Her brown hair was pulled back into a messy knot, with a few strands curling rebelliously near her cheekbones. And her jeans were worn, clinging in a way that briefly made me forget my frustration.
She was gorgeous, but not in the polished, Hollywood way I was used to.
She tilted her head and looked at me. “Are we just going to stand here in awkward silence, or are you going to explain what you’re doing in New Orleans? I guess you needed a break from… everything.”
The way she saideverythingmade my jaw clench. She knew. Of course, she knew. The entire world had seen the fallout. Why would I expect this waitress in a New Orleans bar to be any different?
I exhaled shortly, irritation bubbling up. “Trust me, I didn’t choose to be here in this backwater place.”
“Backwater?” Her eyebrows shot up, her arms folded across her chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
The frustration spilled out before I could stop it. “I think ‘backwater’ is accurate. This city is loud, it’s sticky, and the potholes could swallow a car.”
Her expression turned icy, like I’d just insulted her grandma’s gumbo recipe. “Wow. Insulting the city of New Orleans. That’s a great look for someone who supposedly has come to the city and is trying to ‘lie low.’”
The words stung more than I wanted to admit. Lie low. That’s what everyone thought I was doing. Licking my wounds after Sienna broke up with me and started the public train wreck that was my life. But no one ever wondered if the spotlight itself was part of the problem. If maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t the polished, charming star they expected.
I sighed, leaning back. “Touchy, aren’t we?”
“Touchy?” Her voice was rising. “You’re the one who called New Orleans ‘backwater.’ You’re acting as if this place is beneath you. What, is New Orleans not good enough for you?”
“Let’s be honest, the city has its... quirks.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Quirks? Wow. What a brave take. How much of the city have you even seen?”
I shrugged. “I’ve seen enough to know it’s... unique.”
