Page 23 of Unconventionally, Elle
Eleven years ago
Ten days after graduation, I moved into my studio apartment in the New Orleans Warehouse District. A little more than six months later, I walked into the Roosevelt Hotel for a young professionals' cocktail hour.
I stepped through the hotel doors and was whisked away to a winter wonderland in the middle of the Deep South. Towering Christmas trees with twinkling warm lights lined the lobby, and the scent of pine filled my every inhale. Wreaths and mistletoe adorned the spacious entryway, and strings of lights sparkled with magic.
My coworker Anna had begged me to go with her to this event, and I'd reluctantly agreed. Since I moved to NOLA, it'd been tough to make friends. For me, work always stayed at the front of my mind, and by the time I could socialize, I was exhausted.
Nervous, I sat with Anna in an elegant corner booth of the Sazerac Bar inside the hotel. We gossiped about office drama and watched as the other young professionals mingled throughout the bar.
"We need more champagne," Anna announced when she looked at my empty flute. "C'mon, let's go grab a seat at the bar. We're just wallflowers over here in this booth."
Before I could refuse, she grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the bar. She saw her opening when two spots vacated, and we hurried over to claim our new seats. I wasn't fully aware of the man next to me on my right, but I noticed he was twirling the cherry in his old-fashioned. I tried to look at him through my peripheral and saw that his head was turned away. I couldn't pinpoint why I had a nagging sense of recognition for this man. Anna tapped my shoulder on the left and snapped me back to the present.
"You okay, Elle?" Her brow was slightly furrowed, and she glanced around me to the man on my right.
At the mention of my name, the man at the bar turned to look at us. His amber eyes met mine, and every ounce of breath left my body. My lips started trembling and my eyes went wide in recognition.
"Oh, hey, Jude," Anna said in a teasing tone. "I see you're staring at my friend Elle." Her eyes sparkled with mischief.
He was here. He was in front of me literally at this very moment. I'd always hoped to run into him if he still lived here, but I'd lost hope after a few months of disappointment. I'd dreamed of this moment since we'd lost touch. I'd missed him.
Ignoring Anna, his eyes never left mine as he took my hand in his and slowly lifted it to his lips. I had to figure out how to breathe; my brain was short-circuiting.
"Hello, Elle." He gently kissed my hand and pierced through my soul with his stare.
The bartender interrupted. "Can I get the lady something to drink?"
Before I could answer, Jude replied, "Tequila, water, three limes."
He remembered. Throughout the whole introduction, Anna stared at us with her mouth open.
"Wait a minute, what in the actual fuck is going on here? Jude, you know Elle?" Her wide eyes and puzzled expression were completely valid.
He finally let go of my hand and turned to Anna. "It's a small world, isn't it, Anna?" His voice was silky and warm. His sexy accent still made my knees weak, and I was sitting, so that was saying something.
"Actually, champagne, please," I called to the bartender.
He looked up and acknowledged my outburst.
"For both of us." I pointed to Anna, and he nodded in
understanding.
"No more tequila?" Jude asked as I took out my credit card.
He lifted his old-fashioned to his lips.
"I still drink tequila, but tonight is a champagne night." I gave him a devilish smile.
The right side of his mouth lifted, and I knew he was holding back.
"So, wait, Anna, how do you know Jude?" I asked, trying to piece it all together.Oh God, what if she's an ex-girlfriend?
After all this time, I still felt electricity pulsing through my body at his warm amber stare. The bartender brought our flutes of champagne and put it on my tab, but before Anna could respond, Jude's words shot through my heart like a poisoned arrow.
"It's been over a year, Elle." He watched my every move.
I felt a panic attack starting to rise. I knew exactly how long it'd been. I knew every time I'd looked at my phone, hoping he'd respond. I knew how fucking long it'd been since he'd moved on.
