Page 1 of The Best is Yet to Cum

1

Clinton Hollister

“The conference was good, but I can’t wait to sleep in my bed,” I told my business partner, Evander.

“At least you’re not dealing with a damn blizzard. I’m surprised your flight hasn’t been canceled.”

“There’s still time, so don’t jinx me. I’m about to pack my shit and go grab a bite somewhere in the Quarters.”

“Cool. Have a safe flight, and we’ll catch up at the office on Monday.”

“I’m gone.”

I ended the call and tossed my phone on the bed. I’d been in New Orleans for a conference since the day after Christmas and was ready to head back to Chicago. Aside from the two sessions I’d led at the beginning of the week, I’d been taking notes and absorbing information for several hours each day. By the time the workday ended, all I wanted to do was enjoy a nice meal and a good night’s rest.

After removing my suit and changing into sweats and a hoodie, I left my hotel room and headed toward the French Quarters. The temperature was in the low sixties, which felt like heaven compared to the low twenties in Chicago. Even still, there was no place like home.

About ten minutes into my walk, I stopped at a restaurant with a big window facing the street. I wanted a great view of the passersby so I could be thoroughly entertained while I ate, so once inside, I requested to be seated near the window.

After ordering a drink, I perused the menu and settled on broiled oysters with Tasso breadcrumbs for an appetizer and crawfish etouffee for my main dish. I’d be too full for dessert, but I planned to order some beignets to take back to my room. The server returned, and I placed my order.

While waiting for my food, I switched between scrolling on social media and looking out the window. Most of the people were in small groups or couples, but there were a few people who were alone. One woman in particular caught my eye as she paused in front of the restaurant and looked up. I assumed to read the name.

Something about her seemed familiar, but I didn’t get a good look at her because the server returned with my appetizer, pulling my attention away from the window. When I looked up again, the woman had disappeared.

Before the server left, I ordered another drink and indulged in the first oyster. As the hostess headed toward me, I noticed the woman following her was the woman I’d just seen outside the window. The closer they got, the more familiar the woman became.

“Mona,” I said, fairly confident she was who I thought she was.

The woman made eye contact with me at the sound of my voice, then paused at my table. “Hey, umm, I’m sorry. I don’t remember your name.”

“Clinton.”

“Yes, that’s right. You’re friends with my hus—ex-husband, Winston.”

I shrugged. “We have a common friend, but I wouldn’t say we’re friends. I haven’t seen him in a while. So, you’re divorced?”

“Yes, it was final last week. I’m here celebrating.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

“Would you care to join me?”

She looked back at the hostess. “I’ll sit here.”

I waited for her to be seated before asking, “Do you like oysters?”

She nodded as she responded. “I do. I’m guessing you’re here alone.”

“Help yourself,” I offered, nodding toward the plate of oysters in the center of the table. “I am. I attended a conference that began the day after Christmas, and today was the last day. I fly out tomorrow.”

“If you’re lucky. The weather is pretty bad back home.”

“Yeah, that’s what my partner told me. I haven’t been notified about a cancellation yet, but there’s still time for that to happen.”

I admired her beauty as she lifted the oyster to her mouth. I’d only met her a few times and always thought she was gorgeous.

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