Chapter One
Kylie
Kylie was exhausted and beyond sick of being on a bus by the time she finally reached New Orleans. She’d spent way too many days on buses the last couple of weeks. At least she’d finally reached her destination. When she stepped off the bus, she could have been pretty much anywhere. Depending on which direction she looked in, she saw overpasses and tall buildings. Maybe, with any luck, she could get ‘lost’ amid all the people there even if Ezra figured out where she’d gone.
She grabbed her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and headed into the city. She had to find a shelter she could stay at, at least for a few nights, while she looked for a job. It was scary as hell being out on her own with no support system, but the alternative was even scarier. She valued her life too much to stay where she was.
Spotting a police officer, Kylie bit her lip and approached slowly. “Excuse me, Officer? Can you direct me to the nearest shelter?” One never knew what was going to happen when they approached a police officer these days.
The officer looked her over before he directed her to the Salvation Army’s Center of Hope on Claiborne Ave. It was the one that she had the best chance of getting into on an emergency basis.
“Thank you.” She turned in the direction he told her to head and walked away. Her steps were light, despite the fact she was almost broke, she had no job, no food, and no roof over her head. She was alive, and she was sure she’d find a job quickly.
A lot of homeless shelters now had waiting lists. When she reached the Salvation Army’s Center of Hope, Kylie found it was the same thing there. However, when she explained that she was running from an abusive boyfriend, she was immediately referred to the Crescent House. It was a domestic abuse shelter and given Ezra’s violence toward her, she was given shelter. She didn’t want to bring up the abuse because she didn’t want to talk about it, but now that she knew she wasn’t going to have to sleep on the streets, she was glad she’d opened up a little.
The shelter had a common area for the women to gather in and there Kylie found that day’s newspaper. She grabbed the classifieds and curled up in a chair to read through it. Maybe she’d get lucky and find something that caught her eye right away.
Drink Mixologist Wanted!
Do you know the difference between Jim Beam, Johnnie Walker, and Crown Royal?
Can you make a mean Martini, a smokin’ Hot Southern Night, or a sweet-and-sassy French Kiss?
Do you like the musical stylings of Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald, and B.B. King?
If so, Scarlet Flux just might be the place for you!
We’re looking for a full-time Drink Mixologist who knows their way around a liquor cabinet and has excellent taste in music. If you think you’ve got what it takes, stop on by between noon and 4 p.m. any day of the week and ask for Emelise.
“No freaking way,” Kylie said when she read over the ad. Until her father had died and Ezra forced her to quit her job, she’d been a bartender back in Frenchville. She loved that the owner was calling the position a ‘Drink Mixologist’. It was definitely more eye-catching than the boring old title of ‘Bartender wanted’.
She glanced at the clock and sighed. She would have to wait until the next day—it was almost four now—but that would give her time to rest and shower before she headed over to apply.
The biggest problem was going to be providing work references. If they started digging, Ezra would no doubt find out where she was and come calling. She couldn’t afford that, but maybe if she explained her situation, the owner would give her a chance to show them what she could do. She didn’t know if this ‘Emelise’ was the owner or just the person in charge of hiring. The only thing she needed to do now was go out and get something she could wear to a potential interview at a club.
The following morning, as soon as she’d showered and dressed in the outfit she’d snagged at a thrift store, she approached one of the volunteers at the shelter. “Excuse me? Can you give me directions on how to get to the 200 block of Decatur from here?”
The volunteer did better than that. They got out a map and showed her exactly how to get there and what public transit routes would get her close to her destination.
“Thank you so much,” Kylie said. She took her bag with her because, well, it held the only things she owned now—she wasn’t going to risk something happening to it—and headed out for the day.
Emelise
“This is a total nightmare,” Emelise said as Lily helped her put away stock in the VIP lounge. “I should have known something would happen to rock the boat; everything was going too damn smoothly.”
“Eme, you’ll find another bartender. Don’t stress.”
“In three days? I’ve had the ad out for over a week now.”
“Have faith. If all else fails, I’ll come help out. I might be a little slow at first, but I’m sure I can pick it up. It can’t be that much different from fixing all the different coffee drinks we fix at the shop.”
Emelise laughed. “You might regret that offer if I have to take you up on it,” she joked and tried to stop worrying so much. Lily was right—she had to have faith that someone would come in and meet the requirements she had for the position.
Kylie
That morning, waking up at the shelter, Kylie wasted no time in getting into the shower. The water ran dark for several minutes after she rinsed the shampoo out of her hair, and she wrinkled her nose. The temporary dye she’d put in was washing away. At least it had covered her red locks until she was far away from Ezra. She dressed with care before she shoved the clothes she’d taken off that morning into her backpack, slung it over her shoulder, and headed out into the warm Louisiana morning sun.
Kylie arrived at Scarlet Flux and ran a hand through her hair to smooth it down before she took a calming breath and opened the door. There was a guy behind the bar putting away bottles and she approached him before she cleared her throat. “Excuse me? I’m looking for Emelise?”
