Better Unwed Than Dead (4 page)

"I've been in here for fifteen minutes." He
grinned wickedly and waggled his dark brows, narrowing his sharp
blue eyes. "But you were too absorbed in your very interesting
conversation to notice I was browsing on the other side of the
shop." He set a few books beside the register.

“Um, yeah…I’m sorry, I didn’t know anyone was
in here.” Her face on fire, Julia began ringing up the books,
fumbling like she had ten thumbs.

“Your fiancé, I take it?” The man pointed at
Julia’s ring.

“Huh?” She looked up startled, still not used
to the idea of having a fiancé. “Oh, yes, that was him, my fiancé.”
She started stuffing the books into a paper bag, silently cursing
when she bent the dusk jackets.

“He’s in St. Louis? Tracking down a voodoo
cursed family heirloom. That’s a very interesting pursuit. But I
have to tell you, if I were him, I wouldn’t be leaving a pretty
girl like you home alone.” He leaned his elbows on the counter,
continuing to ply his grin.

Julia took a defensive side step behind the
register. “I’m sorry. That was meant to be a private conversation
and I do apologize. Your total is $41.34.” She tried to concentrate
on the transaction, hating that this stranger knew Nick was out of
town and hating that her business card with her name proudly
embossed in tall block letters was easily within his view. It
wasn’t hard to remember the name Julia Ellery and it wasn’t hard to
find it in the phonebook either, right along with her address,
where she would be snuggled in her bed tonight in an otherwise
empty house.

“My name is Alberic Bontecou, by the way.” He
handed over his credit card, proving the very elegant name.

Julia looked up, surprised. “You’re
French?”

“Oui, by way of New Orleans, just like you it
would seem.”

“Huh. It would seem.” Despite grudgingly
having her interest piqued, Julia was still very uncomfortable and
embarrassed. She swiped the card, and wished it wasn’t one of those
days when the machine was running agonizingly slow.

“In fact,” Alberic Bontecou continued,
unconcerned over Julia’s supposed indifference, “I lived in New
Orleans right up until Katrina. My brother lives in Cleveland, so I
ended up here in Ohio. I think about going back home all the time.
Sure would be lonely though. Most of my friends are now scattered
across the country.”

“If you’ll just sign here, this is your copy
of the receipt.” Julia pushed the slips of paper and a pen in his
direction. He jotted his name and she wished he’d be on his way or
that another customer would walk in and demand immediate attention.
She pushed his bag of books closer to his hand and in doing so
nudged the business card holder so that it was no longer facing his
direction. “Well, good luck, Mr. Bontecou, with whatever you decide
to do. I’m sure you’d make new friends in New Orleans if you
returned.”

“Yes, I’m sure I would.” He turned so that
one hip was leaning against the counter and crossed his arms over
his chest. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested—I mean—I know you
have a fiancé, but I don’t suppose you’d be interested in catching
the ferry over to Put-In-Bay with me this evening? I saw on the
sign that your shop closes at five, and the ferry runs pretty late
in the summer, so I hear. I’m not trying to take you on a date, but
I’m in this area for a few days on my own, doing the tourist thing
before I head back to Cleveland, and it would be nice to have some
company for an evening. I’ve never been to Put-in-Bay. That’s on
South Bass Island, yes?”

Julia thought about telling him that a man
who looked like him would have absolutely no problem finding
company in any one of the many raucous bars on the island, but
instead she found herself thinking about how neat it would be to
pick this fellow’s brain about living in New Orleans. He must have
so many good stories, so much information. “Um, yes, South Bass
Island is correct. But we can’t take a ferry directly there from
Marblehead. We’d have to go over to Sandusky or Catawba.”

“I thought I passed a ferry dock just one
block down.”

“You did, but they go to Kelleys Island. We
could take the ferry to Kelleys, and then hop another boat from
there to Put-In-Bay. It would take a little longer than just
driving to Sandusky or Catawba by car…” she reached under the
counter and pulled out a ferry schedule to study.

“So it’s a date then? I mean, not a date but
a plan. It’s a plan?”

Julia looked up, hesitated and then shrugged.
She hadn’t been over to the islands yet this season, and she always
loved going. What harm could come of it? “Sure. It’s a plan.”

“Good.” Alberic tapped the ferry schedule
with one finger. “I’d like to leave from right here in Marblehead,
so lets take the ferry to Kelleys Island and then from there to
Put-In-Bay. Should I pick you up at home,” he snagged one of her
cards out of the holder and peered at the name, “Julia Ellery?”

Julia felt another moment of trepidation.
“No, no. If you want to come back here at five, when I’m closing
shop, we can leave from here.”

“That sounds good. I’ll see you then.” He
started for the door.

“Okay. See you then, Mr. Bontecou.”

He looked over his shoulder and he stepped
out the door. “Call me Al.”

NICK couldn’t believe his good fortune upon
leaving the seamstress’ shop. The woman had carefully studied the
photograph of the dress and had been so moved by the story of the
missing family heirloom—he edited out the bit about the curse—that
she offered to immediately start adapting a gown she’d already
started, promising to Fed Ex it to him by the end of the week. Now
heading in the direction of Bourbon Street, he was excited at the
prospect of having a changeling gown to present to Julia. She’d
never have to know it wasn’t the real deal, and maybe they’d even
come to New Orleans for their honeymoon!

Nick found Bourbon Street delightfully seedy.
The street was blocked to traffic, allowing beer guzzling revelers
draped in plastic beads to stumble from bars to restaurants to
strip clubs. An icy beer appealed to him on such a sultry night, so
Nick slipped down a cobblestone pathway between two buildings,
following neon signs to a minuscule, outdoor bar.

After sitting at the bar and ordering a
Michelob, he glanced across the small courtyard, dimly lit by tiki
torches and a few iron lampposts. Just as he was thinking that this
courtyard held none of the charm of the one at his hotel, his gaze
fell upon an exotic beauty lounging amid colorful silk pillows and
flickering votive candles. Draped in blue and green veils, only her
delicate hands and feet, lovely face, and the tops of her amble
breasts were visible. Even her head was covered, though judging by
her eyebrows and cinnamon complexion, Nick knew her hair would be
so black it would shine blue. His secret and long forgotten crush
on Disney’s Princess Jasmine came rushing back as fast as the blood
to his cock.

The bartender—chubby and very odorous in a
sweat stained wife beater—slid Nick’s beer to him, leaning close
enough that Nick had to hold his breath. “She’s something, ain’t
she? You’d think she wouldn’t get any business being tucked away in
this courtyard, but people wander back here all the time for her.
I’m the one with the sign out on the sidewalk, but she gets more
business than I do. It’s bullshit.”

Nick swigged his beer and glanced at the man.
“What kind of business is she in, exactly?” Visions of harem girls
undulated in his head and further hardened his cock. He decided to
buy Julia a belly dancing costume just as soon as he got home.

“She’s a fortune teller.”

“Ah. Of course she is.”

“Don’t sound so skeptical, pal. Six months
ago, after refusing for a year to acknowledge my existence over
here, she marched her tight little ass up to the bar and announced
that I was going to be a daddy. Then she wiggled back to her little
candles and prissy pillows and wouldn’t say another word on the
matter. I went home that night to find my girlfriend crying over a
pregnancy test. My son is due in seven more weeks.”

“Congratulations,” Nick said with
sincerity.

“Yeah, right. Thanks.” The bartender rolled
his eyes.

Nick frowned, unable to relate. If Julia got
pregnant he’d be thrilled. The only thing that would thrill him
more would be if she were pregnant and his wife.

“Uh oh, buddy. She’s got her eye fixed on
you. Last time I saw that look on her face she dropped a doozey in
my lap. Better run while you have the chance.”

Nick glanced back to see the fortuneteller
heading his way with a gleam in her dark eyes and a sultry smirk
tugging at her lush red lips.

THE Beer Barrel Saloon, home to the longest
bar in the world, was packed elbow to elbow by the time Julia and
Alberic reached the island and made their way into town. She
allowed her new friend to take her by the elbow and lead her to the
far end of the bar, though she doubted the noisy location was the
best place to talk.

“Are you sure you want to try this place?”
she called to him over the din. “There are some quieter spots just
down the street.”

Alberic glanced at her and merely grinned, so
Julia shrugged. She’d hoped to have a chance to get to know a bit
more about his life in New Orleans and tried talking to him on the
ferry, but he kept changing the subject. His questions about her
personal life had become slightly invasive, and her squirming on
the ferry had had more to do with becoming uncomfortable with his
company than seasickness.

“Here we are, ma cherie.” Alberic nudged her
down onto the stool and hailed the harried bartender before sitting
himself.

Julia frowned at the endearment as she
perched on the stool, clutching her purse in her lap. Her knees
drew tighter together when Alberic’s relaxed sprawl had his thigh
falling open against hers. When the bartender appeared he ordered a
beer and then glanced at Julia. “I’ll just have a Coke.”

“Ah now come on. Have some fun. Your fiancé
won’t mind.”

Julia wasn’t so sure about that. Normally,
no, Nick wouldn’t mind her going out with friends for drinks. But
she’d only just met Alberic and his manner toward her was becoming
increasingly suspicious. “I just want a Coke.”

Alberic shrugged and the bartender started
away, but then Alberic stopped him. “Bring the lady a shot of Jack
as well, just in case.”

“Oh no, that’s not nec-” but the man was
gone. “That’s not necessary,” she said instead to Alberic.

“You don’t have to drink if you don’t want
it, Julia.”

She nodded, pressing her lips together in a
grim line. She cast her eyes about the dim bar. The place was
packed and would be all summer. She looked at the dance floor and
remembered meeting Nick there for the first time the previous
summer. She’d been with a group of her closest friends and he had a
date. Nonetheless, their eyes were glued to each other the whole
night.

Alberic turned to Julia. “So, you wanted to
know about New Orleans? What would you like to know?”

Julia perked up and swiveled on her stool.
Finally! He was ready to discuss what had her willing to come with
him in the first place. “Well for starters, I--”

The bartender reappeared and set the drinks
before them. After paying, Alberic took a long drink from his
bottle and gestured at the crowded dance floor, knocking her purse
from her lap as he did so.

“You like dancing?”

Julia hopped from her stool, retrieving her
purse from under the bar while Alberic fussed over the drinks.
“Sure, I like it,” Julia said, climbing back onto her stool with
purse in hand. “But you must be a jazz fan, right? New Orleans is
famous for its jazz.”

“Jazz, oh but of course. There’s lots of good
jazz clubs on Bourbon.”

Julia was about to question him further about
that when he suddenly stood and downed the remainder of his
beer.

“Come on, Julia, finish your drink and let’s
dance.”

“Oh no, I really don’t think--”

Alberic held out his hands, palms up. “What
would one dance hurt? I’ll be going back to Cleveland tomorrow so
you’ll never see me again. You’ve come all this way to Put-in-Bay
with me, so you might as well dance. Drink your drink and let’s
have some fun.”

Julia continued to hesitate.

“When your fiancé comes home you can go to
bed with him knowing you had an opportunity you didn’t take full
advantage of. You just had a little harmless fun.”

She mulled that over. He did have a point
there. All he was offering was harmless fun.

“Here,” he dumped the shot of Jack into her
Coke and pushed it into her hand, “bottoms up.”

What the hell? “Sure, bottoms up!” Her cell
rang just as she began lifting her glass to her lips. She fished
the phone from her purse and glanced at the caller ID. “Excuse me,
please. I’ll be just a moment.”

Alberic nodded and Julia made her way out of
the bar to the quieter sidewalk where she flipped open the
phone.

“Nick?”

“Julia, where are you? Who are you with? Are
you okay?”

“What? Yes, I’m fine. Nick, what’s wrong?

“Where are you, Julia? Is everything
Okay?”

“I, well, I’m at Put-In-Bay with a customer
from my shop. But I promise Nick, it’s not a date, I just thought
it would be nice to come over to the island and have a drink. It’s
not a date!” she reiterated, fearing he’d view her evening out as
cheating. And then a new thought occurred to her. “How did you know
I’d gone out tonight?”

In New Orleans, Nick exchanged a look with
the bartender and then glanced over his shoulder at the
fortuneteller. She was back on her fancy pillows, studiously bent
over the palm of a drunken tourist.

“I just had a hunch something was wrong.”
What could he say? That a super sexy fortuneteller had sashayed his
way, leaning against him and tickling his ear with her warm breath?
It had been enough to make any man’s temperature rise, but her
words left his blood cold: “Your lover is in danger. You’d better
make sure she’s safe.”