Page 19 of The Rebel
“Understandable. How do you feel about Mexican food?” he asked.
“I love it. Tacos especially. I haven’t had any in a while.”
“Then you’re in luck, ’cause I know where to get the best damn tacos around here.”
I laughed. “Very sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Extremely. I know my restaurants,” he teased.
“Is this one that your family owns?” I asked.
“No. Most of those serve local food. Don’t tell this to my family, but sometimes, like you, I’m not in the mood for anything Southern. It’s good to mix and match.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t give you away. Besides, I won’t run into your family anytime soon.”
“Yes, you will, since most of my brothers come into the office. Only Julian, who runs the bars, and Xander, the company’s CFO, went rogue. The rest of us are quite happy in the French Quarter.”
“But not all your employees are there, right? I mean, from what I’ve read, the conglomerate is huge.”
“No, most of our employees are spread out in other offices too.”
“Thought so. I did run into Chad this morning. He’s the one with restaurants, right?”
“Precisely.”
“I won’t tell him what you said. No worries.” I was tempted to wink at him but stopped myself at the last possible moment. He was my boss, after all. I wasn’t sure what brought on the change from this morning, but I didn’t want to cross a line and go back to things being awkward.
“Chad isn’t the issue—my grandmothers are. They’re chefs dedicated to Southern cuisine. They kind of look down on any other type of food.”
“Your grandmothers. Wait, uh, I think I remember one of their names. Isabeau?”
Anthony smiled. “Yes. Isabeau LeBlanc. She’s my dad’s mom.”
“All right. It’s all noted here.” I tapped my temple. “On the off chance I ever run into them, I won’t tell them your secret.”
“You better not.” His smile was even bigger than before. Oh, this was fun.
And dangerous.
A little while later, we entered the Audubon neighborhood.
“I’ve been here once before. I love it.” When I first got to New Orleans, I did a tour of the city to get a feel for the layout.
“I live two blocks away. That’s why I know the restaurants in the area,” I told Anthony as he parked under a huge willow tree. I got out quickly and marveled at the tree as he joined me. “On my first day in New Orleans, I couldn’t believe there were ferns growing on trees. It looks so surreal, like a special effect in a movie.”
“They look normal to me. Then again, I did grow up here. After you.” He pointed to the gate in front of us. The red paint was chipping off the restaurant’s sign, but the place looked lovely. It was full of colors, all the reds and yellows and blues. There were several wooden tables and chairs outside. They were colorful too.
“This place has a fantastic vibe.”
Anthony laughed. “I just come here for the food.”
The second we sat down, a woman came up to us. “Antonio, good day. You brought a friend, I see.”
“I’m his assistant,” I replied immediately, and the woman nodded. No sense in her misconstruing the situation.
“It’s the first time I’m meeting anyone from his office.”
“Don’t tell any inappropriate stories, please, Mercedes,” Anthony said.
