Page 12 of January
“Seems like something he would do,” Jolie agreed. “I’ll order us a car. Also, do you even realize that we just left ourluggage outside of a house in a strange city?” She tugged on her roller bag handle.
“She surprised me when she invited us in. I guess we got lucky it didn’t get stolen,” Kyle replied.
“I’m ordering Uber Comfort. We deserve it,” Jolie said.
Kyle smiled at her sister before she returned her glance to the white house with light-blue doors and shutters.
CHAPTER 4
“In 1718, the French Quarter was founded as a military-style grid of some seventy squares by a naval officer named Jean Baptiste Bienville. The French Period legacy endures in the town plan and central square, church of St.Louis, Ursuline Convent, and street names like Bourbon and Royal. You’ll also see it in the mix of Creole culture, everyone’s favorite Mardi Gras, and more as you continue on with your trip. I hope you enjoyed our tour today. If you have any questions, I’m happy to answer them, but if not, this is where I leave you to go about the Quarter on your own,” Melinda said.
She gave nearly the same speech at the end of every tour as well as began with similar words, liking the idea of bringing everything full circle when it ended. She had completed the Garden District tour earlier and had planned to wrap up her day in the office, but an influx of walk-ins had the office in need of another Quarter tour. Jill was already out on another, and Melinda was the only one around, so she took the fifteen college-aged people who were likely still on their winter break and wanted one last weekend of fun. While they did get college students on tours often, they didn’t always get them for the Quarter tour. Typically, they just walked around, entered the bars, left the bars with drinks in hand, and entered new ones. This group hadn’t had any questions, which didn’t surprise her, and when she wrapped it up, they all dispersed. Two of them had tipped her, so at least she’d made a little extra by doing the additional tour.
“Hey, you’re still wearing your work clothes,” Bridgette noted, walking up to Melinda in the middle of the street.
“I was going to go home and change. Had to take an unexpected tour. And you’re early.”
“I was going to start without you,” Bridgette replied, hergreen eyes hitting the old lantern light, allowing the golds to bounce around the orbs.
“That bad of a day?” she asked.
Bridgette looked her up and down and said, “Actually, you’re hot, and I plan to go home with someone tonight, so keep the uniform. I don’t want you to distract them.”
Melinda laughed and said, “Thank you?”
“Oh, please. You know you’re gorgeous. I’d date you if I were at all interested.”
“I think there’s still a compliment in there somewhere,” Melinda replied.
“Obviously,” Bridgette told her sarcastically. “But if you must change, I can get us a drink and find a table before the place fills up.”
“I guessI’m not looking to take anyone home, so it doesn’t matter howIlook,” Melinda replied.
“That’s the spirit,” Bridgette joked, looping her arm through Melinda’s and turning them around to head toward the part of the street where there were rainbow flags.
There were gay places all over the city of New Orleans, but most of the gay bars were in the north section of the Quarter along the Lavender Line, a strip of St.Ann Street that intersected with Bourbon Street. When Melindadidgo out on the Quarter, which wasn’t all that often anymore, she typically ended up there, where she felt more comfortable.
Her friend, Bridgette, was a couple of years older than Melinda’s twenty-five, but she hadn’t grown up in New Orleans. Her family had come here from Baton Rouge when she was in high school, which was where Melinda had met her. Despite Bridgette being two years older, they’d become friends until she’d graduated, and they’d kept in touch until Bridgette was out of college. Her family owned a small, independent greeting card company where Bridgette worked and would take over one day. If someone had just met the woman, though, they likely wouldn’t have pegged her as someone who enjoyed writing and drawing greeting cards that spoke of love, well wishes, and happiness, but Bridgette lovedthe company and her job. She knew she’d never be a millionaire, but Bridgette wasn’t the kind of person to care about that. She liked seeing the cards that her company had created in the small gift shops in the city and around the state of Louisiana, which was primarily where they were sold.
“Okay. I’m ready,” Bridgette told her.
“I know. That’s why we’re going out.”
“No, I mean, I’m really ready.”
“Bridge, you’ve said that. You’ve got me wondering if you’re maybe saying it a few too many times because you’re not actually ready.”
“Well, I just had my heart broken, Mel. Give a girl a minute.”
“I’m not the one looking to meet someone.”
“For the night, not for forever.”
“Why don’t you just swipe right on someone and tell them your intentions?”
“I tried. No one struck my fancy. But I’m hoping if I see someone in person, they might, and I might finally have someone else touch me because my right hand is exhausted.”
Melinda laughed and said, “They make things for that, you know?”