Page 7 of Bourbon & Blood

“Ah, here we go. She’s got her bartender’s license. Clean record on that, and she works at a bar down on Bourbon. Need her schedule? Pretty sure I can crack their shit in a jiff if you do.”

“Nah, man. Just the name of the bar,” I said.

“Sure thing. I got you.”

I looked up into the blue sky above and listened as a cicada screamed and wondered which place it would be that she worked at. If it was one of the classier joints that I would stick out in, or if it was a dive where I’d fit right in.

Guess I’d find out.

CHAPTERTHREE

Alina…

Maya and I fell into a giggling, shrieking tangle of limbs as she tried to wrestle the remote control out of my hands. I was trying to change it from whatever high drama reality trash television show she wanted to watch to something,anything, different.

“No, no, no!” she cried as I went in for the cheater’s attack she always used on me, tickling her ribs to make her let go of the remote.

We tussled, and finally, victory was mine! I got the remote and spilled off the couch onto my butt, howling with laughter even as the floor beneath me bounced a few times from the downstairs neighbor punching or hitting the ceiling in a bid to getusto be quiet.

“Oh, shit!” I said in an ominous whisper around my laughter.

“Aw, they’ll get over it.” Maya waved me off. “Not like we do thiseverynight.”

I rolled my eyes and said, “Not how I want to impress the new neighbors!”

She made a dismissive “Pfft!” noise and said, “They’re used to my bullshit, though.”

I smiled and stifled a laugh behind my hand.

I’d moved out of my apartment to moveinwith Maya. She had a place just off the French Quarter – which,yeah,high-dollar real estate, but her family had owned this place for like,ever, and she had just kicked her last roommate out for stealing from her. She was renting my room to me for an absolutesteal.

I couldn’t complain. I mean, I was walking distance from work, had a great view from here for the parades when it came to that, and honestly, I was hoping to bring a little bit of calm and balance to my best friend who honestly did the opposite for me – but in a good way. She sort of had this magic way of getting me out of my shell and, I don’t know, charged my social batteries?

I mean, I could switch it on at a moment’s notice at work, could extrovert all night long, but the second the bar shut down? Blargh. I was done and ready to go home… unless Maya was around. Then I could stay up a little bit later, like now. It was something like four in the morning and I was as jazzed as I ever was at work as we play fought over remotes and spilled popcorn all over my couch – which had been in better shape than Maya’s.

We’d had so much fun redecorating and incorporating both of our wildly differing eclectic styles into something that looked so fantastic in here.

My earth tones and greenery, her shiny modern metals and squared off furniture. The perfect blend of natural and modern.

Things felt right. I was happy. She was happy. The world was our oyster and nothing could stop us!

“Yeah, still!” I protested. “I’m the one that’s gonna have to see and deal with them when you’re model-and-fashion famous, jet setting off to New York, Milan, and Paris.”

I struck a few duck-lipped poses, and she crossed her eyes and fell out laughing in a fresh set of giggles.

“You know you could do it, too!” she said, and I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

“No way,” I said. “Not tall enough and way too many freckles.”

“Oh, stop it! Modeling’s changed by leaps and bounds, you know. Plus, your freckles are to die for. I would kill to have them.”

I shook my head and flipped through shows on our favorite streaming service, landing on something I knew we both liked.

“Oo! Oo! Oo! Yes, please!” she cried excitedly.

“Much better than that stupid family reality drama,” I said. “Those people are so insipid. I don’t even know how they got famous or why you bother watching them,” I said.

She stuck out her tongue at me. “Neah!”

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