Page 5 of Vapor

The napkin burns against my thigh as I quickly make my way through the crowd toward the door. The bouncer doesn’t stop me, so my guess is he wasn’t watching either. As far as I can tell, no one saw what happened.

I’m dying to know what she gave me and why, but I’ll have to wait until I get away from the club. Trying to take a peek now is far too risky.

Chapter 2: Blue

I hate eating so late at night, but my father and Xavier St. Anton had another one of their secret business meetings outside the city. Even though I don’t know the details about what they’re into, Xavier’s a local drug lord. The Mexican cartel leaves him alone, but as to why, well, that’s another mystery. I try to stay out of their criminal underworld, but I hear things.

My fiancé, Justin, keeps a death-grip on my hand as we walk into Maison Creole. I want to rip mine away, but I can’t cause a scene. My father would be furious, and I have no idea what Justin would do.

We walk into the restaurant where high ceilings trap the summer heat. Intricate French chandeliers cast a dim glow over the room.

The walls are decorated with a blend of rich, dark wood paneling and vibrant, vintage wallpaper, creating a perfect balance of classic and contemporary styles.

Ornate mirrors and carefully curated artwork, featuring scenes of New Orleans’vibrant culture and history, adorn the walls, adding a touch of refinement and local flavor.

Plush, upholstered chairs in deep jewel tones surround elegantly set tables, each adorned with crisp white linens, sparkling crystal glassware, and polished silverware.

My father’s waiting at a table with my sister, Lacy, and her husband, Xavier. Lacy’s shorter than me at five feet seven inches. Her blonde hair is caught up in a sparkling diamond and gold clip. Her calculating brown eyes sweep across my outfit.

“Gaultier?” she asks, studying my dress.

“Well, hello to you too.” I roll my eyes as I sit beside her at the round table. I sweep the floor-length silk chiffon skirt under the table. The tropical leaf print set against a bright fuchsia background stands out in a sea of black dresses. You’d think we were at a funeral with all the darkness in this place.

“I’m only asking because Xavier is sending me to Paris next month and I want to know which designers I should make appointments with.”

“It’s not designer,” I say, trying to placate her.

“You should come with me.”

“No,” my father interjects.“Her wedding is fast approaching, and she’s needed here. Have you met with the planner to discuss flowers yet?”

“Next week.”

I honestly don’t give a damn about anything related to the wedding. I don’t want to marry Justin. He’s a disgusting, womanizing pig, just like Xavier. But unlike my sister, I can’t be bought. She seems perfectly content to let her drug lord husband run around behind her back. Love isn’t in her vocabulary. The only word that gets her hot and bothered is money. Xavier has a ton of it, so she’s happy.

“How’s the search for a new house maid going?” Father asks.

“What happened to the last one?” I glance from Lacy to Xavier.

“She disappeared,” Xavier says while eyeing his wife with suspicion.

“A lot of women seem to vanish from your service,” I comment.

My sister smiles, but there’s nothing pleasant about it. She’s been married to him for five years. In that time, at least five women have gone missing from their house. I have a very dark theory about what’s going on. Her husband likes to screw the staff, but if any of them get too close to him, Lacy has them removed. So far, none of their bodies have been found, but my guess is they’re buried in a swamp somewhere.

A waiter in dressed in classic black and white attire approaches our table. He glances at the men as if trying to decide who has the most seniority. They’re all in their fifties—just one more reason I don’t want to marry Justin—but equally ruthless. The waiter settles on my father, which pleases him, but pisses off Justin and Xavier.

“The wine list, sir.” He passes the supple burgundy leather book to my father.“Can I get you any appetizers? Escargot? Crawfish beignets?”

“Oysters Bienville,” Xavier says.

“Shrimp remoulade,” Justin says.

“Very good choices. I’ll be back to take your drink order in a moment.” He scurries off without giving the slightest consideration to what the women at the table might want. It annoys the shit out of me.

“What are you having for dinner?” Lacy asks, not bothering to glance up from the menu.

“A burger and fries,” I say, knowing it will frustrate my father.

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