I’ve never known anyone like that. My mother was just an average woman, trying to make ends meet with a daughter who had to grow up too soon. Even when she died, the family that adopted me was stable.
She was a nurse, and he was a lawyer. Neither of them ever did anything like drink excessively or even stay out after nine. On their anniversary dinner nights, they’d be home even before I contemplated going to bed.
“What about you?” Julian asks, drawing me out of the memory of the night I turned eighteen when they made me a large carrot cake with thick frosting, and the roast dinner we had as a family.
“What about me?”
“Your mother passed away when you were young,” Julian coaxes.
I nod. “Yes, I was sixteen. She was my world after my father walked out on us. She never allowed me to speak of him after that. We became each other’s rock. I was there for her, and she for me. And then she died.” Even as I utter the words, my voice cracks with emotion. It’s been years, but the pain is as acute as the day it happened.
“I’m sorry, Nea.” Julian reaches for my hand, taking it in his and holding it. He doesn’t say anything more, but I doubt there’s much to say. People are always sorry when you lose someone you love, but the apologies can’t bring them back.
“I was lucky. I got a good foster family that took me in,” I tell him. “It’s because of them that I was able to go to Italy and complete my apprenticeship in one of the most scenic cities in the world.”
“That’s good,” he says. “And what about coming here? Will you look for your mother’s childhood home?”
“I’d like that. I mean, when I have time.” Realizing that Julian is still my boss, I don’t want him to think I’d be focused on that and not on my job. Because I love my job. It’s the one thing keeping me sane right now. Knowing that I won’t be struggling to pay the rent. Too many times, when I was living with Mom, we’d be having to count the dollars to make sure we had enough so we weren’t left homeless.
“Then I’ll help you.” His words break through the memories that have taken hold of me, causing me to snap my gaze to his.
“What?”
“I’d like to help you, if you’d allow me to,” he says. His expression tells me he’s not lying. My chest tightens painfully, my heart thudding up into my throat, and I hear the beat in my ears. “Nea, listen, I know we’re just finding our footing, but I really would like to help you. To be there when you go to the house.”
“I didn’t expect you to say that.” He looks so serious, I can’t help but grin. “I mean, you’re my boss—”
“I think I’m a whole lot more than just your boss,” Julian challenges, making me laugh. “This professional relationship has perks I didn’t know about. I should’ve gotten an assistant a long time ago.”
“Shut up.” I’m laughing, my shoulders shaking, the tension in them easing as Julian gives me that stupid smile again, and my heart does stupid things when I see it. I shouldn’t want this, I shouldn’t allow myself to believe this man is going to solve all my problems, but I like him.
“I’m serious. Let me help you. I have contacts all over the city.” This time, I can’t deny he’s definitely not joking.
“Okay, thank you. I’ll give you all the information she left for me.”
Julian nods before waving his hand at the waiter to bring our bill. “Next, we’re taking a walk, and I’ll show you the nightlife around here, it’s nothing like walking around in the day. I don’t normally head out, but I think you’ll enjoy seeing how vibrant the Quarter is at night.”
“I appreciate you taking me out. I have to say, the energy in New Orleans is nothing like any other place I’ve been to. I found that when I explored the other day.”
“It isn’t. There’s a certain magical appeal to it, and I’m not just talking about the tarot card readers and ghost tours. I think it just is a city that’s alive, even if the people aren’t flocking in every day.” He looks so happy, so at peace when he talks about New Orleans, and I realize it’s the same way my mother used to look when she would reminisce about her childhood home.
We pull into a parking spot, and Julian exits the car first, rounding it and opening my door. He helps me from the vehicle, and we slowly walk down the main strip of legendary Bourbon Street.
There are tourists milling around, taking photos outside stores, squealing when they see any form of tarot readers, or mention of ghosts. The magic in the air makes me smile. There’s a certain energy that seems to hang over the streets of the French Quarter.
Julian slides his hand in mine, his fingers tangling with my own, when he suddenly pulls me into a corridor where a young man is inviting us on a ghost tour. Julian’s questioning gaze lands on me, and I nod enthusiastically.
We’re booked and ready. We don’t wait long and, with three other couples, we’re led down small cobbled streets with stories that send shivers down my spine. The buildings we venture between are dark, foreboding, and the feeling of being watched takes ahold of me.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end when Julian leans in and whispers, “Are you afraid yet?” I look up to see him smiling, but even though I’m enjoying spending time with him, something’s been off about him since this morning. I can’t put my finger on it, so I nod, trying to push away any doubts that seem to spring up.
“It’s definitely eerie,” I tell him in a hushed tone, causing him to chuckle.
