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this crowd. The place was a study in plaid and piercings, and with a B & B upstairs it also had its
share of international visitors. It was like a waiting room for heaven’s misfits. I suddenly felt old.
“Hi,” he said, grinning, pouring himself a glass of draft, then one for me.
I almost hadn’t recognized him at first. He’d shaved, showing off his great face to full effect.
“Hi.”
“I assume you like beer.”
“Live for it.”
He looked sleepy, his hair flattened and his green T-shirt—which set off his light blue eyes—was
inside out. I had had butterflies in my stomach before he arrived, but curiously they began to calm
down as soon as he sat. He’s just a guy. With needs. Like you. He snatched a menu from the table
stand and studied it, stealing a glance at me every few seconds.
“Let’s get some burgers. They’re great here.”
“I haven’t been here in ages,” I said. “My ex and I used to come here for brunch when we first
moved to New Orleans.”
Why did I mention Scott?
“Your ex, huh?” He snapped the menu shut. “Would that be ex-husband or ex-boyfriend?”
“Husband. But he passed away a while ago.”
“You’re not messing with me now, right? Because I really was only kidding about my mom.”
“No, I’m not kidding,” I said.
He pried no further about that.
“How have you thusly fared in our Crescent City?”
“You mean, dating-wise?” I followed that question with a big gulp of beer.
“Yeah.”
“Um. Hit and miss. You?” I asked, wiping my mouth.
“It’s hard to meet someone who likes musicians’ hours, you know?”
“And what about this? Is this a date?”
“You can call it whatever you want as long as you’re naked by the end of it.”
So bold! I tried not to register my shock. He was even bolder than my fantasy men, who all had
helped me ease into things. But this was real life, as Matilda said. It was a lot riskier and messier and
trickier than fantasy. In S.E.C.R.E.T., I couldn’t be rejected, I couldn’t screw up. In life those negative
results were possibles, maybe even probables. But I still had S.E.C.R.E.T.’s support, and Matilda’s
guidance while navigating this new terrain.
Now here was someone.
He was cute, funny and bratty. And what I had in mind was exactly what he had in mind. You can do
this, Cassie.
I refilled my beer glass.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight,” he said.
I choked on my beer.
“You’re almost ten years younger than me! That’s disgusting.”
“To you maybe.”
The waitress came by. He ordered burgers for both of us.
“What if I was a vegetarian?”
“I didn’t expect you to be perfect.”
I used that moment to change the subject. I needed to catch my breath.