Page 78 of The Charmer

"I appreciate it."

I pressed her legs closer together. She started to blush.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing at her cheeks.

"Nothing. I was remembering last night."

I tilted forward. "You know, we still have time. Checkout isn't until eleven."

"No, you did promise coffee, and I don't have that much time."

"You're working today?" I asked incredulously.

She scoffed. "Yes, of course, Hello, fellow business owner. Your bars are open seven days a week, too, right?"

"True." What could I say? That I had a team in place and told them I won't show my face today? That would sound pedantic. "How much time do you have?"

"We can grab a coffee and chat a bit more. Zelda is opening the store. "

"Why did you say 'chat' like that?" I teased.

"So you don't get other ideas about what might happen after our coffee."

I burst out laughing. "Georgie, I've been getting the wrong idea for weeks now."

"Well, I'm glad it's settled," she said with an impish smile.

We rose to our feet and headed to the exit. Her coat was hanging by the entrance. I grabbed it, sliding it onto her arms.

"If I button this up, I won't look like I've just stumbled onto the street from a float." She giggled.

"Do you need to go home and change before work?"

"No, it's fine. I always keep some spare clothing there."

"How come?" I asked as we left the suite and headed down the lobby.

"Because I'm a klutz. I spill stuff over myself all the time. Once, I managed to rip my dress—don't ask me how—so I always have some things there. And sometimes I work so late, especially during the busy season, that I just spend the night and curl up on the recliner."

I stared at her. "Georgie!"

Her eyes widened. "What's with the judgy tone?"

"You can't work yourself to the bone like that."

"I'm not. It's only happened a few times over the years."

She avoided my gaze, so I assumed it was more than a few times. I liked her work ethic, but no one could work seven days a week straight forever and then put in extra hours during peak periods. It was a recipe for burnout. One of the reasons I was so laid-back was that I’d seen enough of my friends burn themselves into the ground over the years by overworking. I swore to never let that happen to me or any of my brothers. I didn't want it happening to Georgie either.

She looked around once we stepped out of the hotel, closing her eyes and holding her hands up. "Oh, New Orleans, how I love you. You can still smell the joy in the air."

I scrunched my nose. "Well, I can smell a lot of things, but it's not joy."

She opened her eyes, elbowing me lightly. "Hey, have a little bit of imagination."

"Yeah, that isn't going in the direction yours is either." I wiggled my eyebrows. "So, your coffee place or mine?"

She laughed. "Show me yours."

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