“I hoped I might see you again.” She said.
My heart did about three flips and I sat down. “I hoped you’d be here.” I smiled.
The same waitress from the night before brought two bourbons to the table and left without a word.
“You’ve almost missed the set.”
“I’ve heard it before.” I shrugged. Tonight, I really didn’t care about Charlie Pickens. I wasn’t really listening to the music anyway; I was too busy admiring the color of her eyes. I felt her touch my hand. I looked down in surprise.
“You were pretty far away there; you didn’t hear a word I was saying.” She smiled playfully.
“I’m sorry.”
“Come on.” She said standing up.
I had no choice but to follow.
The waitress rushed over.
“Your change.”
“Keep it.” Kay said.
“I can’t really.”
“Yes, you can.” Kay gave the waitress a sweet smile. “It’s okay. Keep it.”
It was the same scenario as the night before.
“What’s the deal? Why doesn’t the waitress want the tip?”
“I have no idea, but she better learn to accept them is she is going to make any money in this job.” Kay shrugged.
I turned back and saw the waitress look down at a one-hundred-dollar bill. That was a big tip for a journalist, or at least I thought it was. I honestly, had no idea if being a photojournalist was a lucrative career or not. I guess I always thought of journalist in general as being the stereotypical starving artist type. You know the one you always see in the movies, who always looking for that one big story that will win them a prize or something.
“Where are we going?” I asked catching up to her.
“I don’t know. Someplace quiet I think.”
“Okay.”
I fell in step next to her and we walked for a while talking. We passed the veteran’s cemetery and I realized we were heading into the Garden District. I wondered if she somehow knew where I lived. We turned in the opposite direction of my house and I breathed a sigh of relief.
We walked through an iron gate. I realized the property contained a beautiful garden, a large house with a small one to the rear. I was familiar with the property in passing. It stood out because it took up an entire block. I followed her to the smaller of the two houses.
“Is this where you live?”
“It’s where I’m staying while I’m home.”
She opened the door with a key, and I followed her in. I scanned the room, there was nothing of a personal nature, it was definitely a guest house.
“Have a seat,” She motioned to the cluster of chairs and a sofa. I chose the sofa. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Maybe just a club soda, I have to be up early. I’m working on a new case.” To her credit she didn’t ask what the case was about, and I was grateful. I didn’t want to talk about it. I wanted to talk about her. She handed me my drink and joined me on the sofa, kicking off her shoes and tucking her legs under herself.
“This is a nice place.”
“It’s comfortable and quiet.” She sipped her own club soda.
I nodded. I suddenly felt very awkward.
“What about you?” She asked.
I looked at her confused for a moment.
“Do you have siblings?” She asked picking up the conversation from the night before.
I smiled. “No.”
She nodded and looked at my hand.
“You have a wife; do you have children?”
“A daughter.” I answered feeling awkward at the mention of Diane. I hadn’t brought it up before because I wanted to learn about her and because I frankly hadn’t given it much thought.
“Just the one?”
“Yeah. She is so beautiful.” I smiled a little.
“She must take after her father.”
I looked up at her. It was the first personal thing she had said, and I felt all the blood rushing to all the wrong parts of my body.
“How old is she?” she continued.
“She ten going on thirty.” I sighed.
She nodded.
“No one special for you?” I asked.
“No, long distance is tough, and the dessert isn’t really the best place to meet your soul mate.” Her eyes looked like she was looking into my soul.
I thought of her with a boyfriend and a new feeling I hadn’t felt in a long time rose up in my gut.
She noticed my glass was empty and she got up to get me another. She leaned over to take my glass from me, and her face was so close to mine. Too close. She smelled like vanilla.
“Let me get you another.”
“You don’t have to do that.” My voice was hoarse.
“Sure, I do.” She whispered back.
In that moment I have never wanted another woman more. Not even Diane and that bothered me. I am not the man that looks at other women, I don’t cheat on my wife no matter what kind of problems we are having. I’m just not that guy. But there was something about Kay that I had no control over. I couldn’t control my feelings and I already felt like I had known her my whole life. She must have sensed how uncomfortable I was because she quickly stood up and walked to the kitchen.
“Maybe I should call it a night.” I said not trusting myself to be alone with her. The look of disappointment on her face pierced me through the heart. I didn’t want to leave. I was afraid if I didn’t, I might lose control. I couldn’t stay and risk doing something I might regret, because I knew I wouldn’t regret it and that was the problem.
She put both glasses on the counter and walked back over to me. She sunk down on the sofa
