“I came in here to check the inventory of emergency napkins,” Anna said with complete deadpan seriousness. “Obviously.”
I bit back a laugh.
The woman at the door was still skeptical. “Funny, he looked an awful lot like Luke Fisher. That jawline, those cheekbones.”
I bit down on my cheeks, nervous that Anna would give me up.
Anna, however, didn’t flinch. “Nope. Nigel Pimmington is just a regular English guy. Very normal, very boring.”
“Boring?” the woman exclaimed. “Honey, I saw you two talking. You don’t blush over boring. There wastension,Anna Banana. The kind of tension that could turn a stiff upper lip into a trembling lower one.”
My eyebrows shot up.Tension?I remembered the way Anna’s lips curved when she teased me about being a blacksmith.
Tension.
Yeah. That’s one word for it.
Anna groaned. “There was no tension. He was just... lost. It was so crowded in front, so I helped him find the bathroom, that’s all.”
“Lost, huh?” She was skeptical. “Well, next time, feel free to lose him my way. Nigel Pimmington sounds like the kind of man who’d recite Shakespeare to you at sunset.”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Anna said dryly. “He seemed more like the type to complain about the font we use for the wine list.”
There was a pause, and then the woman at the door sniffed. “Well, if he comes back, I call dibs on serving him. You can’t just hoard all the posh accents for yourself.”
“Fine,” Anna said, clearly eager to end the conversation. “Now, don’t you have tables to check on? The jukebox crowd looks like big tippers.”
The woman sighed theatrically. “Fine. Hurry it up.”
And then she was gone. Anna leaned back against the door and muttered, “That woman needs her own sitcom.” Then she turned back to me. Her expression was hard to read. “You’re welcome for not giving you up,” she said, her tone light, but with just enough edge to remind me she’d done me a favor.
I cleared my throat, looking away for a moment before meeting her gaze. “Thank you,” I whispered, keeping my voice low. The words felt awkward in my mouth, like I hadn’t said them in far too long.
Anna raised an eyebrow, the ghost of a smirk tugging at her lips. “Wow, an actual ‘thank you.’ Must’ve really cost you.”
I sighed, dragging a hand down my face. “You win. Can we just wait until the crowd clears, and I’ll be out of your hair?”
She studied me for a moment, her expression unreadable. I tried not to squirm under her gaze, but it felt like she could see right through me. Did she know how hard I worked to keep the cracks hidden? How much effort it took to pretend I was still the confident, charming star everyone thought they knew?
I hated the vulnerability creeping in around the edges of this moment. I hated even more that she might notice it.
Finally, Anna shrugged and leaned back against the door, her voice smoother but no less cutting. “Suit yourself. But if you hate it in New Orleans so much, maybe next time, stay wherever it is you think you belong.”
She didn’t say it outright, but the implication was clear:It’s not here.
I stayed silent, leaning against the opposite wall and closing my eyes, trying to shut out the noise both outside and in my head. The crowd out there would move on eventually. They always did. And yet, I couldn’t help but wonder if they’d still be interested if they saw the real me—the me that wasn’t a polished, smiling persona crafted for the cameras. Probably not.
Anna broke the silence. “You’re lucky I don’t like chaos.”
I opened my eyes, glancing at her. She was leaning against the doorframe, arms on her hips, her messy bun a little crooked. Somehow it worked. Her olive skin had a warm, golden glow, and her lips, even pressed together in an unimpressed line, looked soft. She was beautiful, the kind of pretty that made you notice, whether you wanted to or not.
“What do you mean by chaos?” I asked.
“You. Keeping your secret.” She shrugged. “It’s not for you. It’s because I don’t want a circus in Muses. This place is crazy enough without a mob scene.”
I smirked faintly despite myself. “Well, thanks… for not letting it turn into one.”
She shrugged again, but her gaze lingered on me for a beat longer before she looked away. “Just don’t make it a habit, okay?”
