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Our usual meet-up spot, Tracy’s, was quiet for a Friday afternoon. Come to think of it, my shift at
the Café had been pretty dead too. Tracina was glad for it, so pregnant now that people didn’t really
feel comfortable having her wait on them because she looked like she could drop the baby right at
their table. It was only a matter of weeks before she’d be off her feet entirely.
Will had posted for a replacement, but then his brother Jackson from Slidell asked if he’d take on
his oldest daughter, Claire, a quirky, dreadlocked seventeen-year-old who wanted to finish high
school at the New Orleans Center for Creative Arts, which had a campus not far from the Café.
Between piercings and poetry readings, she promised she could work two nights a week and
weekends, more shifts during the summer. Will was reluctant at first to have his unruly teenage niece
also living with him, until Tracina pointed out the convenient babysitter possibilities once their child
was born. So Claire started immediately, and immediately fit in at the restaurant by pissing off Dell
and getting underfoot.
Matilda wasn’t finished listing all the caveats of recruiting Mark.
“If Mark passes all the tests, he’ll still have to be trained, Cassie. And the other women have to
weigh in. It has to be unanimous.”
“He’ll appeal. And Dauphine has a thing for musicians.”
“And then there’s the matter of you and Jesse. He could turn you down, you know. I mean, he has
one last go through S.E.C.R.E.T. and he may want to savor that opportunity. Are you ready for
potential rejection?”
“Sure. Yeah. Of course.” I shrugged, taking a sip of my beer.
I flinched because I was lying. S.E.C.R.E.T. had given me many gifts, but the ability to withstand
rejection wasn’t one of them. After all, there was no possibility of being rejected in S.E.C.R.E.T.,
only of turning others down. Of course Jesse could turn me down, and why wouldn’t he? What was he
going to be offered, anyway? A plain old date with me, a woman he slept with once in a fantasy
scenario, more than a year ago, one who balked when the possibility of more presented itself. Or the
thrill of a new fantasy and new flesh pressed against his skin. Given the choice, wouldn’t most men
want the novelty? Wouldn’t I? Well, no. I had had that novelty with Mark, and more than that with
Will. Mark I didn’t want. Will I couldn’t have. And so, in my mind, that left Jesse.
“I’ll meet with Jesse tomorrow,” Matilda said. “If he says yes, you’ll hear from him. If he says no,
you won’t. Either way, we’ll pull him off Dauphine’s roster this time, just to prevent any tension
between you and Dauphine. That relationship is sacred. And whatever happens, she does not need to
know about this conversation.” Matilda paused to let this sink in. “Oh,” she added after a few
seconds, “by the way, Dominic passed. He’ll be a new recruit.”
“The soccer player?”
“He’s actually a contractor. He’s taken the tests and he’s almost done with his training. If Mark
doesn’t work out, we can put Dominic next.”
“What about Ewan, that sexy redhead friend of his?”
“He didn’t pass the initial round. Funny that. We rarely get a unanimous vote on a ginger, which as
a redhead I find rather bigoted. Marta just wasn’t that into him.”
“But he was so cute.”
“Well, if you’re on the Committee next year you can resubmit him, if he’s still interested.”
After splitting the bill and saying goodbye to Matilda, I decided to walk home. It was a balmy
night, but spooky—no moon in the sky. I could hear sirens in the distance, discordant jazz pouring out
of every other door, which got louder and stranger when Magazine became Decatur in the French