Page 63 of The Shop on Royal Street
“It was great running into you,” he said, not making any attempt to move.
“Definitely,” I said. “The historic-preservation community is asmall one, so we have to stick together.” It sounded incredibly stupid even to my ears, but there was something about Michael Hebert that left me a little tongue-tied.
“So,” Michael and I said in unison.
“I meant, excuse me,” he said looking directly at me.
I found myself inexplicably blushing, reading something into his expression that was probably my imagination. I found his elusiveness added to his allure and made him oddly compelling. Maybe it was his New Orleans accent, or the fact that he lived in an old house and loved historic preservation. I couldn’t help but draw parallels with my own story. It didn’t hurt that he easily could have been a contender forPeoplemagazine’s sexiest man alive.
I looked at him expectantly.
He smiled. “This is my house and you’re kind of in the way. I don’t want to hit you with my bike.”
“Right. Gosh. Sorry!” I jumped out of the way, landing on Jolene’s foot and eliciting a smallooffrom her.
“Looking forward to seeing you again soon,” he said with a wave before leading his bike up the driveway.
Jolene grabbed my arm and began pulling me back down the street toward St. Charles Avenue. “Do I have toothpaste on my nose or something?” I asked.
She looked at me. “No. Why?”
“Because Michael kept looking at me in a weird way.”
Jolene sighed heavily before resuming her arm-pumping power walk, causing me to jog to catch up. “Because you’re a beautiful woman, and because you didn’t stop blushing from the moment he appeared. I can’t smell pheromones, but if I had an infrared camera or whatever those things are that can photograph things that are invisible to the human eye, I’d bet you were showering him like an April rainstorm with them.”
“I was not,” I said, jogging faster to overtake her. When she’d caught up to me, I said, “Did you really remember him from your classes?”
“No. It was just an educated guess. My daddy always told me, if it looks like a duck, waddles like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it’s probably a duck.” She held up her manicured nails and, starting with her thumb, counted off her points. “He was standing on Audubon Place with a bike and a backpack and I thought I’d remembered his name from grad school, so I made an educated guess.”
“Purely Machiavellian. Who would have thought?”
“Hey, it got you a date, right?”
“It’s not a date. It’s simply the possibility of a small gathering of like-minded people.”
“Really, Nola, you have so much to learn.” She pulled out her phone from a hidden pocket on the outside of her leggings, the vibrating now audible, and looked at the screen.
“I thought you didn’t have your phone.”
She gave me an innocent smile and batted her eyelashes before looking down at her screen, her smile quickly fading. “It’s from Beau. He wants to know if I’m with you and why you’re not answering your phone.”
Her thumbs flew over the screen as she typed, the beep of a reply sounding immediately after she hitsend. “He says there’s a problem at the house and he needs to talk to you.” Jolene looked up. “He asks if you could meet him there within the hour. I can drive you—I need to pick up the hatboxes and other stuff from the closet anyway.”
“He doesn’t say what it is? Or any response about my Mr.Bingle question I texted him about this morning?”
She shook her head. “That’s probably one of the things he wants to talk about.”
“Fine, I guess. I just need to call my boss and tell him I’m working from home today.” I leaned closer to see her phone. “Did Beau say anything about his fever? Is he better?”
She tapped something on the screen and waited a moment before shaking her head. “Not even a bubble. Typical. He could be texting from a hospital, for all we know. Maybe you should call Mimi.”
“No,” I said a little too quickly. “I don’t feel as if she’d want to talkto me right now, and I’ve got too many questions that still need sorting in my mind first.” I picked up my pace.
We started moving at a slow jog, Jolene’s ponytail bouncing with a perkiness I don’t think I’d ever felt. “I’ll pack up a few bundles of my muffins for you to bring with you. That should help smooth any ruffled feathers.”
I nodded, even though I had a strong feeling that ruffled feathers were the least of my problems.
CHAPTER 20
