Page 53 of Legal

“Best Cajun food you’ll find outside New Orleans.” I think I made a happy squeal because he squeezed my hand and smiled wide. “I take it you approve.”

“Definitely.”

To my delight, we sat outside. The weather was perfect with just the right amount of breeze. God, I felt good. Comfortable in my own skin. The bluesy music surrounding me was pleasing to my ears, and the guy who sat across from me was candy to my eyes.

And I was excited as hell to try the food. I looked over the menu, torn between five different things. “So, you’ve been there?” I asked. “New Orleans?”

“A couple years ago. You?”

I shook my head. “Always wanted to, though.” There were tons of places I wanted to travel to but never had the opportunity. I suppose there was nothing stopping me now.

“What can I get you, sugar?” Our southern belle waitress winked at Chase. She barely gave me a look.

I ordered a chicory iced coffee, having no desire for anything stronger tonight. He did the same. “Feel free to spice it up,” I told him. “I can drive if needed.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

The waitress took down our order. “If you need anything, anything at all, just let me know. My name’s Delilah.” It was glaringly obvious that she was speaking to Chase and not to me. I shook my head and laughed a little. I wondered if he got this kind of female attention wherever he went. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least.

“Zydeco or swamp pop?” he asked when Delilah sashayed her hips to the next table.

“Depends if I’m in the mood for something fast-tempoed or something emotionally-driven. I’m really enjoying the mixture tonight, though. The music matches the atmosphere.” Chase sat back and stared at me, small smile on his lips. I was starting to get a complex. “What?”

“I just think it’s cool that you even knew what I was talking about.”

The next hour flew by like that. Dare I say I was having a great time? The rest of the diners seemed to dissolve around me, except for Miss ‘Can I do anything for you, Sugar? My job is to serve.’ Wink wink, nudge nudge. She was impossible to ignore, like a needy cat rubbing against you every second. Or in my case, the devious cat who darts between your legs on ‘accident’ as you’re walking down the stairs. Chase seemed impervious to her innuendos, and that only seemed to make her try harder.

Fortunately, Delilah was easy enough to dismiss when she wasn’t loitering around our table, trying to overdo her job. Chase and I discussed and debated anything music-related while I died and went to Heaven with my plate of incinerating shrimp pasta. It was so worth it.

I was opening up more to being paraded in public, but I did draw the line when he tried convincing me to get up and dance with him. It was one thing to share the same restaurant and have a nice dinner and quite another to frolic in front of everyone and basically scream, “Hey, look at us—we’re together. As a couple.”

After a huge laughing spree, Chase stared at me again, but this time with a strange expression. “Your face looks….”

Flawless? Smooth? Ten years younger?

…white.”

My hands flew to my cheeks, and I started patting around. It felt crinkly under my eyes.Oh, fuck.“Excuse me.” I took off for the restroom, keeping my head lowered.What the hell is going on?

I tried my best to ignore the lady next to me washing her hands as I gaped into the mirror. I resembled a freaking barn owl. I peered closer. No, scratch that. I looked like a preschooler who got a little glue happy. My face was the opposite of flawless and smooth; it was scary and crackly like I had some weird skin disease.

I peeled off a layer from my eye mask, only to discover more white gunk underneath. If my bathroom mate was panicking that I was contagious, she didn’t act like it, bless her heart. She just nodded and smiled and quickly got the hell out of there.

I ran a paper towel under the sink and dabbed my face. After a good bit of scrubbing, all the white wrinkles were replaced by red splotches. I frantically dug through my purse, hoping to find something to cover it. I’d use chewing gum if I had to.

Fortunately, it didn’t have to come to that. I had a tube of concealer, and I made good use of it. By the time I’d stepped out of the restroom, I looked somewhat normal again, at least on the outside. On the inside, I was a heap of jumbled emotions.

The tipping point was going back to my table and finding our irritating-as-shit waitress literally hanging over Chase, giving him a hearty eyeful of her irritatingly perky-as-shit tits. No doubt she was just waiting for me to leave so she could pounce. She probably slipped a diuretic into my coffee.

She saw me and straightened, then scurried away. I flopped down on my chair, the mood pretty much over for me. Yes, I’d been having a fantastic time before my face crumbled off. Yes, it was petty of me to let something like that ruin my night. Yes, it was the inside that counted. Blah, Blah, Blah.

“You were gone awhile. I was about to send someone in there.” He paused a minute. “You look better. Is everything okay?”

“Yes. No.” Who was I fooling? I couldn’t just put on cream and magically jump back another decade. I was not even close to his age, and I never would be. “Delilah looked like she was making herself at home in my absence.” I tried to speak with zero snark, and hopefully, I accomplished it.

“She tried getting me to take her number. I didn’t want it.”

My eyes might have popped a bit. I reached for my drink, then thought better of it and went for the water instead. “Why are you even telling me this? I wouldn’t have known. Are you always this honest?”

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