Page 60 of Making It Burn
"Boys!"She grinned, walking toward us."Ready for an adventure?"
"That depends," Beau said."What kind of adventure are we talking about?"
"The best kind.Music, drinks, and terrible decisions."She looked us over approvingly."You both clean up nice.Come on, the car's waiting."
We climbed into the sedan, Beau and I in the back seat, Beverly up front giving the driver directions in rapid-fire French.The car wound through the French Quarter, past tourists stumbling between bars, past street performers and restaurants with lines out the door.
Beverly turned in her seat to face us, one arm draped over the headrest."So, Mason.I have to know—how does a man who looks like you end up spending his Friday nights reading merger documents instead of breaking hearts?"
"I don't break hearts.I'm very upfront about my priorities."
"Which are?"Beverly licked her lips.
"Um, uh, work.Career.Partnership."I glanced over to Beau who was frowning.
"Mmm.Ambitious.I like that."Her eyes traveled over me slowly, appreciatively."But ambition can be lonely, can't it?All work and no play makes Mason a very tense man."
Beau shifted beside me, his thigh pressing against mine in the cramped back seat.
"I manage," I said carefully.
"I bet you do.You seem like someone who's very good at managing things.Controlling them."Beverly's smile turned knowing."But doesn't it ever get exhausting?Always being so controlled?"
"Beverly—"
"I'm just saying, a man like you probably hasn't let loose in years.Maybe decades."She leaned forward slightly."New Orleans has a way of making people forget their inhibitions.Making them remember they're human, not just worker bees."
The car slowed, and I was grateful for the interruption.Beverly straightened, her attention shifting to the window."Ah, perfect timing.We're here."
The driver pulled up in front of a converted warehouse with exposed brick and tall windows glowing with warm amber light.A simple wooden sign hung above the entrance: "Preservation Hall Annex" in elegant script.
"This place doesn't look like much from outside," Beverly said, climbing out, "but trust me—inside real magic happens."
The club opened up into a cavernous space that felt like stepping back in time.The brick walls were original, scarred with age and decorated with vintage concert posters and black-and-white photographs of jazz legends.Edison bulbs hung from the high ceiling on long cords, casting a warm, intimate glow over the mismatched furniture—velvet couches, reclaimed wood tables, bar stools that looked like they'd been salvaged from a 1920s speakeasy.
At the far end, a small stage was set up with instruments waiting—a piano, upright bass, drum kit, and microphone stands.The air smelled like whiskey and something sweet, maybe magnolia from the courtyard I could glimpse through French doors at the back.
The crowd was eclectic—locals in jeans and vintage band t-shirts mixed with better-dressed visitors, couples swaying near the stage, groups of friends laughing over shared bottles of wine.
"This is incredible," Beau said, his eyes wide as he took it in.
"Isn't it?"Beverly looked pleased."The tourists all flock to the Quarter, but this is where musicians come when they're off the clock.Real jazz, real people, real New Orleans."She linked her arm through mine, pulling me toward the bar."Come on.First round's on me."
Beverly ordered three whiskeys—neat, without asking what we wanted.
"To productive meetings," she said, raising her glass."And to whatever happens after."
We clinked glasses and drank.The whiskey burned going down, and I felt it settle warm in my chest.
The band started playing—a sultry jazz number that had bodies swaying on the small dance floor.Beverly leaned against the bar, one hip cocked, her eyes traveling over me with obvious appreciation.
"So, Mason."She stepped closer, her hand landing on my forearm."Tell me—what does a man like you do for fun?"
"I...work, mostly."
Her laugh was throaty."Of course you do.But everyone needs to blow off steam sometime."Her fingers traced a pattern on my sleeve."What do you do when you need to...relax?"
I felt Beau shift beside me, his body radiating tension.
