Something else my father had told me more than once. We weren’t destined to live to a ripe old age so we should enjoy life the way we wanted. Never allowing anyone to stand in our way.
And never getting too close to anyone.
He’d failed to take his own advice, falling in love with my mother. Head over fucking heels.
That wasn’t in the cards for me.
Maybe that would allow me to live longer or maybe I would be saving a life, the woman always the target. A weakness.
The realization and acceptance were the reasons I should drive all thoughts of Josette from my mind.
Loneliness was the reason that proved to be impossible.
CHAPTER 8
Josette
“You are not yourself tonight. What’s up?”
Sighing, I knew Tilly was right. “Why would you say that?” I sat back, enjoying the jazz music and the liveliness of Bourbon Street. Why hadn’t I spent more time in the French Quarter since moving here?
We were sitting outside on a perfect evening. There was a light breeze allowing the wafting scents of jambalaya and other scrumptious creole specialties to keep my tummy grumbling.
With the stars in the sky mixing with thousands of sparkling festive lights covering almost every building, the atmosphere was perfect.
Even the wine tasted better, the cabernet rich in body, the bold flavors of raspberry and spices perfect for my mood.
Granted, I couldn’t lie to myself that I’d allowed one of my employees to close the bakery and coffee shop so I could have dinner with my best friend for two reasons.
One good. One bad.
Yet I’d done everything in my power to shove aside the anxiety that I’d felt for days. Then my concerns had come to fruition. I was about to lose my business. On top of that, some strange man had entered the coffee shop, ordering a small cup of black coffee and camping out at a table for over two hours.
Staring.
Watching.
Planning.
Or not.
That was what paranoia did to me. He hadn’t done anything wrong or overtly weird, yet I’d felt the same tingling sensations I had for almost two years after my rebirth. As soon as I’d moved to New Orleans after finishing the two-year stint in culinary school, I’d been determined to leave my fear in a padlocked box. Then the man in dark clothing had almost stripped away years of that success. Almost. Now I was determined to take life by the balls.
Since I already had a sexy man.
At least I could bite my lower lip, swooning a little bit as I thought about Sin.
I’d almost asked the stranger to leave, but he’d been a paying customer. While he didn’t appear homeless, he did pay withcash, which was rare these days even for a three-dollar cup of coffee. I had to let it go. I had worse things to worry about.
I’d opened my snail mail. There it had been. A crushing blow. Maybe the strange man dressed in all black had been sizing up my shop for whatever new project was coming to the strip mall. Or maybe they were just planning on tearing it down completely. I’d called zoning, but they wouldn’t tell me anything. Not that it would matter. My shop was being ripped away.
What a shitty week it had been. Maybe that was real reason I’d needed to slink away for a few hours. At least Indiana was resting comfortably after enjoying a few hours spending time with his mommy dog inside the coffee shop.
And growling at the stranger, the low vibration that only I could hear giving me the creeps.
“Just thinking about the letter from the landlord.” I’d heard talk about them selling the building where the coffee shop was leased, but they assured me on day one that wouldn’t mean anything but sending my checks to another address. Then I’d gotten a letter sent by courier that a sale was imminent.
And that I had ninety days to vacate. Ninety fucking days to try to find another location that was even close to within my budget. The single reason I’d kept the shop in the same dingy strip mall was because the price was right. It certainly wasn’t location or attention to detail.
