He smiled at the thought. He’d been to parades before, even the biggest ones on Fat Tuesday itself, when millions of people lined the parade route shoulder to shoulder, pushing and shoving against metal barriers for the chance to grab a ten-cent strand of beads or a cheap plastic cup that some krewe member tossed from a float as it rolled by. But that was ten years ago, when he had been a twenty-year-old college student. Mardi Gras day was a holiday in the Crescent City, but at this stage in life mingling with drunken students and tourists didn’t sound fun at all.
Cate was coming in for the weekend because of a phone call Landry got from his boss six weeks ago. Ted Carpenter told him that the “big boss” — the CEO of WCCY’s parent company, Triboro Media — would be riding in a Mardi Gras parade as honorary king of the Krewe of Calypso. Each year the krewe honored someone for public service, and 2020 was Channel Nine’s year.
“The station has its own float in the parade,” Ted said, “and since you’re our resident celebrity, you have to join us.” As a paranormal investigator for Channel Nine in New Orleans, his Bayou Hauntings episodes had made him a celebrity to millions of faithful viewers across the country.
Landry tried to beg off, but Ted said, “This isn’t a request, it’s an ultimatum. Invite Cate if you want.”
Cate had loved the idea, and even more when she heard they’d also be attending a carnival ball. The Krewe of Calypso’s gala event was on Sunday night in the ballroom of the historic Roosevelt Hotel on Canal opposite the French Quarter. Carnival balls were boisterous, colorful and crazy events that went on until the wee hours. Few people ever wrangled an invitation. Landry had never attended one, but this year he had two tickets and instructions to wear a tuxedo, which so far in the thirty years of his life he’d avoided doing.
When he told Cate he had to wear a “monkey suit” and show up for a carnival ball, she understood his objection but disagreed. For her, attending a black-tie Mardi Gras ball in a New Orleans hotel would be the pièce de résistance of the entire weekend.
Her Southwest flight landed on time, and he waved as she exited security and ran to him. They walked arm in arm to baggage claim because she had checked luggage. That was rare; she had plenty to wear at his apartment, but this time she’d packed fancy clothes because she was going to a ball.
CHAPTER FOUR
They walked into Muriel’s, one of Landry’s haunts on Jackson Square near his apartment. The carnival season brought thousands more visitors than usual, and the dining room was full at this upscale restaurant two blocks and a world away from the craziness of Bourbon Street. More people stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the bar waiting for tables, and the noise level was deafening.
Thank goodness he’s a local, Cate thought as Landry caught the eye of his friend Claude, the Maître d’. Addressing them by their first names, he apologized for the craziness and rearranged two single drinkers at the bar so Cate and Landry had adjoining stools.
“Will you be joining us for dinner tonight?” Claude asked, and Landry said yes, apologizing that he hadn’t made a reservation.
“No problem for you, Mr. Landry,” Claude replied with a dismissive wave. “It’s insane tonight, so give me some time, but I’ll take care of you two. Leave it to me.”
There was a time when Cate would have pointed out people who recognized Landry — the ones stage-whispering to each other and surreptitiously nodding heads their way. Not tonight — the attention irritated him during times like this when they’d been apart and wanted privacy. Landry was a celebrity TV personality. If they chose to be out in public, especially in New Orleans, the chance of his being recognized was one hundred percent.
Three years younger than Landry, Cate and he had been exclusive for over two years despite their long-distance relationship. She managed her father’s psychiatric practice in Galveston, and his rapidly growing fame at WCCY-TV, the Voice of the Crescent City, meant that New Orleans would be his home base for the foreseeable future. They chose weekends, took extended trips, or even just stayed home when they were together. For now it was working.
The volume in the room was so high they had to lean in close to talk. He held her hand and kissed her cheek as they slipped back into the comfort of being together. Cate held her breath as across the room a tipsy bald man in a Hawaiian shirt rose from his chair and weaved through the room toward them. If he approached Landry, it might open the floodgates for others and ruin the evening. At the last minute she breathed a sigh of relief. Instead of turning toward them, the man made a beeline for the restrooms.
“There are parades downtown every night,” he was saying as she tuned back in. “We’ll be at the Calypso parade on Sunday afternoon before the ball, but if you want more, we can walk down to Canal Street after dinner tonight. The floats should arrive downtown by 8:30 or so.”
“I’ll be ready for bed once we’re done here. Are there parades tomorrow? That would be fun.”
“You bet. There are two big daytime parades. The Krewe of Iris is at eleven, and Tucks rolls out right behind it. We should go up on St. Charles and watch one, and
