The restaurant buzzed with clinking silverware, bursts of laughter, and the low hum of conversation in the surrounding rooms. But for a second, it all fell away.
“I want to protect this,” he said. “Not because I’m scared of what people will say. Because I don’t want anything messing with what we’ve got.”
I stared at him, warmth blooming in my chest. Slowly, I reached for his hand.
Something in his eyes eased. “You don’t know what it’s like to have your love life splashed throughout every paper.”
I coughed. “Actually, I do have some experience with that.”
Luke raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Oh, really? When was the last time TMZ camped out on your lawn?”
I leaned forward, propping my chin on my hand. “Not TMZ, butThe Times-Picayunedid a pretty good job of broadcasting my love life to all of New Orleans. My breakup with Beau? Front-page news.”
That got his attention. “Wait. Seriously? It was in the newspaper?”
I didn’t hesitate at all to open up. He’d shown me in every interaction that I could trust him with my joy and my pain. “After high school, I stayed here at Tulane while Beau headed off to Duke. I genuinely believed we had a future. We’d talk endlessly about how we were going to New York together. But it all came crashing down during our junior year over Mardi Gras.”
Memories flood back. Bitter memories.
I sighed. “Mardi Gras is more than just a single day of parades. It’s a weeks-long carnival that starts in January. But the crown jewel is the Rex parade on Mardi Gras day itself. It’s a big deal. Every year, they have a king and queen. The king is usually an influential older guy, well-rooted in New Orleans social circles. And the queen? Always a twenty-one-year-old debutante, typically a junior in college, and always the relative of a Rex member.”
I cleared my throat. “The grand reveal of the royalty happens the day before the parade, on Lundi Gras.The Times-Picayuneshowcases the king and queen’s faces on its cover.”
I held up my hands for emphasis. “So, picture this. It’s Lundi Gras morning. I’m groggy from staying out late watching the Bacchus parade, and I find I’ve got missed six calls from Beau. Just as I’m trying to make sense of that, my cousins burst in, hugging me, consoling me. I had no clue what was up until they showed me the newspaper.”
I sighed deeply. “The king was Beau’s dad. And the queen? Reagan. Remember the girl we bumped into at the French Quarter? Her.”
Luke leaned in. “I remember.”
“The article was gushing about Reagan and her boyfriend, Beau, completely ignoring the fact that he was already with someone else. It read like a Mardi Gras fairy tale, and I was the inconvenient footnote. Completely erased from the story.”
Luke’s jaw tightened, his expression darkening. “What a bunch of?—”
“Don’t worry,” I interrupted with a wry smile. “I’ve already used all the good words to describe it. Trust me, you’re not going to come up with anything new.” I snorted. “If you read this article, you’d think Reagan was some kind of modern-day saint.” I raised an eyebrow at Luke. “While in real life, the only time she’s given back is at a store return counter.”
He winced sympathetically.
“Just wait. The worst is yet to come. I had barely finished the article when Beau called me. And what he said still stings. ‘You knew that we would never end up together. You don’t fit into my world.’ That he and Reagan just made more sense because she did. I hung up. I never spoke to him again.”
The whole city seemed to have read that article. The news that Beau wasn’t with me, but with the Queen of Mardi Gras, traveled faster than hot beignets disappearing at Café du Monde. By the afternoon, it felt like every corner of the city, from the French Quarter to uptown, was abuzz with the latest on my love life. And the gossip hadn’t been confined to people I knew well. It reached the most unexpected places.
Mrs. LeBlanc, the ever-gossipy mail carrier in Mid-City, who knew everyone’s business better than her own, had delighted in sharing the news with my aunt Clara when delivering her post. Maurice, the jovial butcher from Crescent City Meats, gave my uncle Tony not just a leg of lamb but also a side of gossip. Even Sister Marie-Thérèse, usually with her nose buried in a hymnal at St. Louis Cathedral, cornered me after Sunday Mass with a gentle pat and a sympathetic word.
Beau had been the most important relationship of my life, other than my mother. I thought he might be my person, the one I could count on to put me ahead of anyone else. But when he left, it just confirmed what I had always suspected. I wasn’t worth staying for, wasn’t worth a love that lasted.
Luke’s hand found mine across the table, and his touch was gentle. “I see you. And I’m not going to let anyone erase you—not from my life. And for the record, if anyone tries to spin some ridiculous narrative about us, they’ll have to go through me first. You’re the most unforgettable woman in the world.”
My cheeks flushed at his words, the warmth spreading from my face to low in my stomach. I tried to laugh it off, brushing my hair behind my ear. “Well, you know, makeup does wonders.” I forced myself to sound light, unaffected, but inside, I couldn’t shake the way my heart fluttered.
He shook his head. “It’s much more than that. Honestly, any guy would be out of his mind to let you go.”
It was one thing to think you were worth it, but having someone else, especially someone like Luke, see it too? It was a revelation. If the world’s biggest movie star could see my worth, maybe Beau was the fool all along. And for the first time, I wasn’t just acknowledging that intellectually. I was starting to believe it, deep down.
Luke’s fingers brushed my hand, sending a shiver racing up my arm. For a brief moment, thoughts of Beau and Reagan just faded away. I could only think of that touch and how unexpectedly electrifying it felt.
But then Tom sidled up, murmuring something into Luke’s ear. Luke glanced at me, then mumbled, “I’ve got to take this call.” He pulled his hand back.
I couldn’t help but catch snippets of Luke’s conversation. “What’s the issue?” A pause. “Where is she? And what exactly did she say?”
