Page 56 of Making It Burn
The French Quarter humidity hit us the moment we stepped outside the airport.November in New Orleans was nothing like November in Virginia—the air was thick and warm, carrying the scent of something sweet and slightly smoky.
“God, I forgot how muggy it gets here,” Beau said, pulling at the throat of his sweater.
“You’ve been to New Orleans before?”
“A few times.When I was in San Francisco, we had a client here.”He flagged down a taxi.“You?”
“Once, for a conference.I mostly stayed in the hotel.”
“Of course you did.”
The taxi pulled up, and we climbed in, giving the driver the address for the Windsor Court.The drive took us through downtown, past the Superdome, into the heart of the city.Beau stared out the window, and I stared at him, trying to memorize the way the afternoon light caught in his hair.
This was going to be a very long weekend.
The Windsor Court was exactly the type of hotel Carter would choose—elegant, expensive, dripping with old-world charm.The lobby featured marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and furniture that probably cost more than my car.
We checked in at the front desk, and the woman behind the counter handed us two key cards.
“You’re in rooms 714 and 716,” she said with a smile.“Connecting rooms, as requested.”
“Connecting?”Beau and I said simultaneously.
“Yes, sir.There’s a door between them.Is that a problem?”
“No,” I said.
“Yes,” Beau said.
We looked at each other.
“It’s fine,” I amended.“We’ll just keep the door locked.”
“Of course.”The woman’s smile didn’t waver.“The elevators are just past the lobby.Enjoy your stay.”
We walked to the elevators in silence, rode up to the seventh floor in silence, then found our rooms in silence.
“Well,” Beau said, standing in front of room 716.“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning.The meeting’s at nine, right?”
“Eight-thirty.We should get there early.”
“Right, eight-thirty.”He slid his keycard into the lock.“Professional.”
“Professional,” I echoed.
He opened his door and paused.“Mason?”
“Yeah?”
“For what it’s worth?That kiss didn’t feel like a mistake to me.”
Then he disappeared into his room.
I let myself into room 714 and immediately saw the connecting door.On the other side of that door, was Beau.I walked over and pressed my hand against it, imagining what would happen if I unlocked it, knocked, told him the truth—that kissing him had been the least mistake-like thing I’d ever done.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I dropped my bag on the bed, pulled out my laptop, and tried to focus on work.
