Page 9 of Jameson: Mayhem Makers

A few steps later, we entered one of the many bars with an open door, and sure enough, the bartender was pouring a line of cocktails that practically screamed New Orleans. The drink itself looked like a glowing sunset.

We each took a glass from the bar, clinking them together.

“To no regrets.” Elise grinned.

“To no regrets,” I repeated before taking a sip.

“This is sweet. Like really sweet.” Elise took another long drink. “Now, I understand why these are so dangerous. You can barely taste the alcohol.” She tilted her head and then squinted. “Do you hear that?”

I paused, listening for what my friend was referring to. From somewhere down the block, the unmistakable sound of a saxophone wove through the air—smooth, seductive, and soulful. "Jazz," I said with a grin.

Elise left a twenty on the bar after we downed the rest of our drinks, then we headed toward the sound, drawn by the sweet, smoky notes of the sax. The crowd parted before us like a sea, the music pulling us in like a current. When we finally reached a small courtyard, we found a jazz band playing under an arch ofstring lights. The trumpet player was nodding his head with each note, eyes closed, lost in the music.

"Wow," Elise whispered. “This is magical."

I glanced at my best friend, feeling a surge of warmth. It wasn’t just about the night, or the place, or the drinks—it was about the fact that we were here on this journey together, as we always had been since kindergarten.

“I can’t believe we’re here,” I murmured. “It feels... like a dream.”

Elise leaned her head on my shoulder. “I know. But it’s real. And we’re living it.”

The music wrapped itself around us, filling the spaces between words. We were in New Orleans, on Bourbon Street, with the whole city around us pulsing to the rhythm of a life well-lived.

It really was like a dream come true for me.

After the last song, the crowd dispersed, and the night beckoned us back out onto Bourbon Street—into more laughter, more stories, more memories we would hold onto long after the city’s lights faded into the distance behind us.

The streets were buzzing with energy that made everything feel larger than life. The music was louder now, a mix of jazz, a few bold rock bands that had taken to the street corners, and hip-hop from the bars blending into one cacophony that seemed to spill from every doorway. It felt like we were part of something bigger, something magical.

As we walked past a row of bars, Elise nudged me. "Do you think we're ready to meet someone tonight?" Her voice was light, teasing.

I grinned, raising a brow. "Maybe. Are you?"

Elise shrugged, a playful spark in her eye. "I mean, I did say a guy in every city." Her gaze flitted over the crowd as we walked,scanning faces and sizing up potential trouble. "It's about the adventure, right?"

I laughed. "Always. But like I said, no promises. We’re here for the experience, not just the guys."

Just then, a group of three men stepped into our path, clearly having a great time. One of them, tall with dark hair and a wide smile, stopped in front of us. "Well, well," he said, grinning like he’d just stumbled upon a treasure. “A couple of gorgeous women on Bourbon Street? This is gonna be a good night."

Elise’s eyes sparkled. "Is it now?" She let her voice drop into that playful, confident tone she got when she was in the mood for some mischief.

"Definitely." The tall one nodded and stepped closer, offering a handshake to Elise first. "I'm Gabe. And these two troublemakers are Sam and Charlie." He gestured to the other two men, who both waved lazily, clearly already enjoying the night's festivities.

“Olivia,” Elise said, giving me a knowing grin as she shook Gabe’s hand before shaking the others.

"Elizabeth," I introduced, trying out using my new name as I shook each of the men’s hands.

"What brings two beautiful ladies to Bourbon Street?" Gabe asked, not missing a beat. His brown eyes were bright and intent, as though he wanted to learn everything about us in the span of a few minutes.

Elise winked. "We're here to have a good time. See the sights. Dance. Drink. Make some memories."

"Memories, huh?" Gabe grinned even wider, clearly amused. "That sounds like a solid plan." He nodded toward the bar behind them. "The night’s still young. How about we get you a drink? You know, for the memories."

I exchanged a quick glance with Elise. We’d only had one drink each so far so I shrugged. "Sure, why not? But don’t think we’re easy targets, okay? We have standards."

Gabe chuckled, a deep, rich sound that blended with the music in the background. "Fair enough. We’ll try to be on our best behavior, but no promises."

The five of us made our way into a nearby bar, the kind that had a crowded, lived-in feel. A mural of jazz musicians covered one wall, while the other was lined with aging photos of the city through the decades. The bartender, an older woman with a quick smile, greeted Gabe by name as we all squeezed up against the bar.

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