Page 11 of Jameson: Mayhem Makers

I nodded. “Let’s go.”

As we left the bar, the city seemed to stretch ahead of us, full of possibilities and secrets waiting to be discovered.

“Lead the way,” Elise said, directing her attention forward, her voice brimming with anticipation. “Let’s make some memories we won’t forget... or at least ones we’ll pretend we can’t remember.”

We all laughed, following Gabe down Bourbon Street, stepping deeper into the heart of New Orleans—and into whatever adventures the night had in store.

The neon lights flickered as we navigated through the maze of people, our laughter blending with the music that pulsed from every direction. Gabe led the way with effortless confidence. Charlie and Sam trailed behind, the three men weaving in and out of the crowds like they owned the night. Elise was practically bouncing with excitement, her energy contagious, while I felt a mix of exhilaration and curiosity; a sense that tonight was a new beginning.

“So where’s this place you’re taking us?” Elise asked, practically skipping to keep up with Gabe’s long strides.

Gabe glanced over his shoulder, his smile wide but mysterious. “You’ll see. It’s one of those spots where you’ve gotta experience it for yourself.”

After a couple of blocks, we turned off Bourbon Street onto a quieter, less crowded street that seemed to pulse with a more peaceful kind of energy. The buildings were older, the lights dimmer, but the place had a charm—grimy but lived-in, like it had stories to tell that only the locals knew. Gabe led us into a nondescript door beside a speakeasy-style bar. No sign. No flashy lights. Just a small black door that barely looked like it belonged.

“This is it,” Gabe said, his voice taking on a lower, more secretive tone. “You ready?”

Elise was already grinning. “Hell yeah,” she said, almost before I could even process the question.

I was still a little unsure. I’d come to Bourbon Street to let loose, to do something different, but I didn’t expect this kind of different. “Are you sure this is...” I glanced at the dark alleyway we’d come from. But Gabe was already pushing the door open, a knowing smile on his lips.

Once inside, the atmosphere hit me like a wave. The air was thick with the scent of whiskey and old leather, the walls adorned with vintage jazz posters and old records. The dim lighting gave the room an intimate, almost mysterious feel, and the buzz of conversation mixed with the soft melodies of a live jazz band in the corner. The music wasn’t loud, but it vibrated deep, a slow and steady rhythm that filled the air with its cool, seductive energy.

The bartender, a woman with a sharp bob and bold red lips, nodded at Gabe as he entered. “Gabe,” she said, her voice warm but not overly familiar. “Good to see you again.”

"Always," he replied smoothly, his hand resting casually on the bar. “We’re here to take over the place tonight. You ready for us?”

She smiled, not missing a beat. “It’s always a good night when you show up.”

As Gabe ordered us a round of drinks, I looked around, absorbing the space. This wasn’t like the crowded bars on Bourbon Street, the ones full of tourists trying to catch beads or chug drinks. No, this was different. This was the kind of place where the city’s soul seemed to be, hidden in the back alleys and tucked away from the spotlight.

Some couples seductively danced on the dance floor, their hands roaming each other’s bodies as they moved in time with the music. Others were in booths surrounding the dance floor, doing intimate things that no one else seemed to notice.

My eyes widened as I looked away, making eye contact with Gabe. He gave me a knowing smirk as he leaned in and whispered, “Does this make you uncomfortable?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, my stomach knotting from his closeness. “A little.”

I felt his hand on the small of my back, pulling me closer. “We can leave if you want.”

I shook my head. I was slightly uncomfortable, but I wanted to experience more. “No. I want to stay.”

Gabe pulled back. “Good girl.”

Elise, never one to waste time, was already on the dance floor with Charlie and Sam, grinding sensually to the music as she sipped her drink. The floor was a bit uneven and the crowd small, but the energy was magnetic. Gabe grabbed my hand and led me toward our friends, but I found myself walking a little more slowly, taking in the space.

“I wasn’t expecting this,” I admitted, my voice low as I spoke to Gabe. “It’s... different. But in a good way.”

Gabe’s eyes softened. “Yeah, it’s one of the spots that doesn’t change with the times. A lot of people think the magic of New Orleans is all in the flashy lights and the chaos. But it’s really in these quieter corners. The places you can breathe and really feel the music.”

I took a deep breath, allowing myself to be enveloped by the atmosphere, the low hum of jazz wrapping around me like a blanket. Something about the place was grounding. It was something I’d never experienced before; something I’d never been allowed to.

A few seconds later, Elise called out to me, “Come on, Elizabeth! You can’t just stand there all night! Get your ass out here and dance!”

I laughed, the sound light and free, and Gabe smiled at me, a knowing glint in his eyes. “She’s right. You don’t have to be a professional dancer to enjoy this.”

“I’ll probably embarrass myself,” I joked, my voice teasing but with a hint of vulnerability I couldn’t hide. I’d only danced in my room with Elise on rare occasions, and definitely not sensual like this.

Gabe cocked a brow. “Trust me. No one’s judging here. If you want to let loose, this is the place.”

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