Page 59 of Lady Sings the Blues

16.

Elise

The city life. I miss it. Big cities come alive in a way Thornbriar isn’t and never could be. And bonus, it takes me away from the bad juju Beau and I have swirling between us. One of the things I loved so much about Chicago, Nashville has, too. The buzz. The hum. That thing which makes a city, a city.

He gets mad, but doesn’t stop to consider all I’ve given up to be with him.

I turn into one of the numerous parking lots around the city and pay my fifteen dollars to park. Slinging my purse around my shoulder, I flip down the vanity mirror so I can finger comb my hair that Blaze mussed, then get out press the key lock, and set out to walk the busy streets. There are catcalls and flirty eyes from men holding doors for me. It feels good, like I’m getting more of myself back. The me before my world fell apart, and I mentally imploded. Unfortunately all I can hear is Beau’s voice in my head, ruining the buzz for me. What I hear is Beau in the bathroom at Moe’s bar. “There are consequences for your actions, Elise.” Maybe I shouldn’t have worn these jeans without him. Wait, no. I’ve never had to answer to anyone for what I wear and I’m not going to start now.

As I walk, contemplating all this, I eventually come up on a Starbucks,yay!where I go inside to wait in the not too long, not quick enough order line. After ordering my mocha frap and a chocolate muffin, I sit at a table by the window watching people walk by.

It’s all good for about twenty minutes until I see a man leaning against a parking meter. He’s tall, black hair, good looking enough, and has targeted me, standing right outside the window. Not that I plan to act on his attention, but when he catches my eye and winks, I’m glad I wore my good top. There might be a puff to my chest watching him lean against a parking meter watching me. Damn those bedroom eyes, serious bedroom eyes. Different from any of the other men of Nashville today holding doors or whatnot, he’s a bad boy. And let’s just say, those eyes and the vibe he gives off takes him from good looking enough to seriously hot.Yowza.I’m liking how this day has turned out.

Of course, I’m with Beau, but I spent so many years cloistered from all but the fringes of humanity, the attention feels nice, warms me. The apples of my cheeks heat. This is innocent flirting, right? Nothing to cause any permanent damage in my relationship with Beau. It’s fun, the game we’re playing, where I get to be slightly naughty and he’s broody and kind of dangerous. Because of it, I venture another look.

He continues to look, staring really. Only now I’m not so sure about the hotness quotient. Like really not sure. His stare, it’s a new stare, different from the one of two seconds ago. Or maybe not new, maybe I’m just now paying enough attention to recognize this stare gives a flutter to my belly, but in theso not in a good wayway. More, thelook away slowly to not look like he’s kind of freaking me outway. So I drop my eyes from his, now playing the role of a demure, otherwise occupied Elise. I turn away and notice for the first time, this black haired, used to be hot now downgraded back to merely good looking enough man wears a cut.

Shit.What now? He’s not someone I’ve ever seen before. He a Lord? Coincidence that he’s from a different club entirely? Could he be Horde? Since I don’t want him to know he freaks me out, I keep my head down pretending to check something on my phone. When I chance another glance back, the man is gone.

Pure, unadulterated relief washes through me for about five seconds, or until the front door to the Starbucks opens and the black haired, cut-wearing man along with three of his buddies step inside. I know they’re his buddies because they’re all three wearing cuts, and on the back of those cuts, patches. Bedlam Horde.

Worst. Luck. Ever.

Trying and hopefully not failing tonotshow panic, I send off a quick text to Beau.

Me: Might been right. SRY I caused U such trouble.

Him: Elise?

Me: PRBLY not coming home. Ever. Horde. Everywhere.

Him: Fuck! In public? Don’t move. Fuck!

Me: Starbucks.

Him: I know. Tracking location.

“This seat isn’t taken?” The black haired Horde asks me in not exactly a nice tone but probably the nicest he’s ever used. Now I don’t think he’s even so much good enough looking as scary enough, because he’s right next to me.

“I’m finished here,” I tell him, lightly, calmly. As if I don’t have a care in the world by recognizing the threat he brings to mine. “You and your friends can have the table.” When I stand to leave, he clamps a hand around the back of my neck, pushing me back down into the seat.

“Not so fast, sweetheart. Someone wants to speak with you.”

“I’m not from around here.” I try to play it off. “So you must have the wrong girl. I have one of those faces.”

“Oh, Elise. What was Bossman thinking, letting hispiecetake off alone? Always thought he was smarter than that.”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

When I try to stand up again, instead of a hand, I feel the blunt end of cool steel against my back.

“I’d rethink that decision, sweetheart.” He warns.

He’s right. I rethink it and sit back down.

“Good girl.”

My eyes close for quiet contemplation, mainly reflecting on what an idiot I am and even though he’s made some really backward comments today, Beau is a good man and I think I’m ready to admit I love him. Sad that he won’t get to hear those words from me, that we’ll never get our shot to really be Elise and Beau because as I stated earlier, I’m an idiot.

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