Read Mardi Gras Masquerade Online
Authors: L A Morgan
“If I was, I would be a fool to tell you.”
“You
are
a fool if that’s what you plan to do.
There is no conceivable way you could get away from me.
I would follow you wherever you went and bring you back here, and believe me, Maria, I would not be happy.”
“I know that, but you should remember one thing; no matter what happens, I never wanted to hurt you or to make you mad.”
“I’ve noticed that people often do things with lack of consideration for anyone but themselves.
It’s a sad comment on the human condition, but one that I fully understand and am forced to accept.
That doesn’t mean that I’ll overlook anything you might happen to do.
It means that I’ve experienced disappointment before, and I’ve learned how to deal with it effectively.
I could have dealt out a much harsher punishment to you last night than to have simply scared you for a short while.”
“It was enough,” Maria assured him. “I’ve learned my lesson.”
“Tell me exactly what you’ve learned.”
“Not to cross you . . . if I can help it.
I have no plans to leave here without your consent.”
“Good.
By the way, I have forgiven you, Maria, but you’d better be able to
help it
if any more bright ideas come into your head.”
Instead of replying, Maria concentrated fully on her breakfast.
When she glanced up again, she noticed that Steve had returned his attention to his paper.
When she was done eating, she placed her napkin on the table and stood up.
The man folded his paper before he put it down.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked.
“To church?”
“No, my dear.
We’ll get there soon enough.
I thought you might enjoy a ride through the countryside on such an
invitin
’ day.”
“I would like that.
I haven’t gotten to see much outside of the French Quarter.”
“All right.
Let’s go.”
This time, Steve did not call for the use of the limousine and driver.
He walked with Maria to the garage and directed her to get into that same vehicle which she had used to affect her escape.
It felt odd to be in it again, but when Steve took off the convertible roof, the atmosphere changed.
It was a surprisingly warm day, perfect for a ride in the open air.
He drove along the winding back roads at a leisurely pace, pointing out objects of interest and historical significance as they drove.
The soft spring-like quality of the air felt delightful to Maria as it rushed through her hair.
The tangles did not bother her.
They could be brushed out later.
All that mattered was that she was there with Steve, listening to him talk and enjoying the land he so obviously loved.
They stopped a few times to look over particular places.
When this happened, they spoke to each other in calm and easy conversation.
The anxiety, temporarily at least, had been banished.
Around
, Steve pulled into the parking lot of a distinguished-looking, old restaurant.
The building appeared to be a restored mansion of earlier years.
Inside, a maitre d’ escorted them to a well-appointed table that overlooked the back garden.
Maria looked at the menu, only to discover it was all in French.
The other diners spoke in discreetly low tones.
“Would you like me to order for you?” Steve asked, noting her perplexity.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to.”
“Is there anything in particular you would like?”
“I’ll leave it up to you.
I’m not a picky eater, and I don’t have any allergies.”
In French, Steve quickly gave their order to the waiter who had been standing discreetly to his side.
The man bowed slightly as he took their menus, and then left.
“How do you like
Louisiana
now?” Steve asked.
“The more I see of it, the more I like it.”
“Is there special thing that impresses you?”
“As a matter of fact, there is.
I hope you won’t think I’m being patronizing or anything, but it’s your house and property.”
“That must be induced by your
feelin
of being mistress of it all before long.”
“Not at all.” Maria quickly corrected him.
“I told you before that I had dreamed about coming to
Louisiana
.
Even though I’ve read a lot of books on the subject and saw it in movies and on TV, I never conceived of anything so grand as that.
It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever imagined.”
“Your praise is appreciated.
Now, tell me, Maria, why does a woman like you, who told me you don’t need luxury, have such a high opinion of a place that only a great deal of money could buy?”
“As I also said, it’s only a dream.
I’m entitled to those; aren’t I?”
“Of course you are.
Do you have any others?”
“The house would be filled with happiness,” Maria immediately responded.
“It would be an empty shell without that.”
“And how would that happiness come to you?
With money?”
“That wouldn’t be a factor in my dream.”
“Then, what?”
Maria took a sip of her water as the waiter placed bread and sculptured pats of butter on the table, along with a plate of crudités.
He also poured a small amount of wine into Steve’s glass.
After the man sipped it and gave it his approval, the waiter filled both of their glasses.
When he was gone, Maria said, “You were getting rather personal with that last question.”
Steve picked up a roll to butter it as he replied, “I thought we had reached that level long ago.
It feels like I’ve known you forever, Maria.”
The woman looked at him closely and nodded her repetition of his thought.
After a moment, she said, “I didn’t know that so much living could be concentrated into so little time.”
“It is
amazin
’; isn’t it?
A week ago, you and I were strangers, and look at us now.”
“You say that as though we have a special bond between us.”
“We do.”
“What would that be, Steve?”
“I don’t need to answer that for you.
You’re a very perceptive person.
I’m sure you already know.”
“I’m not sure.
Please, tell me.”
The man took a bite of his roll and chewed it carefully before replying, “Well, we’re still basically strangers, but we’ve found that we have a lot in common, and I’m not just
referrin
’ to the house.
In a way, we both can be easy-going, but we expect certain things from people, from life.”
“You?
Easy-going?”
“I can be, my girl.
Wait until you get to know me better.
You’ll see.”
“Where does your brother come into all of this?”
“I don’t see that he has any place in this conversation.
Relationships are personal matters.
They’re not based on the interference of others, or, at least, they shouldn’t be.”
“Please, go on with what you were saying about us,” Maria encouraged, as she picked up an olive and popped it into her mouth.
“You and I are like vinegar and oil.
By ourselves, we would either be too abrasive or too bland, but when stirred together, we produce a delicious mix.
I believe that this might be an essential spark that would be needed to ignite an
interestin
’ friendship.
As long as both parties don’t feel an
overwhelmin
’ need to dominate or be dominated, they could have a delectable relationship.”
“You’re not a man who would ever stand for being dominated.”
“And you’re a woman who does not need to dominate.
There.
I believe I’ve made my point.”
“By that, are you suggesting that you may dominate me?”
“We all enjoy being ruled by our passion to some extent.
You would never let me dominate you more than it pleased you.
Isn’t that true?”
“I answer that, but I’ll ask you this.
Wouldn’t it make you mad if you couldn’t control a woman completely?”
Steve laughed very briefly, and then took another bite of his roll.
“I am the big, bad man in your eyes; aren’t I?” he said.
“In a way, you certainly are.”
“Point taken.
We’ve met under extraordinary circumstances, Maria.
You have to admit that.
If things had been different, you might not think of me as you do now.”
“How would I see you then?”
The discourse was interrupted by the arrival of their appetizers.
Steve looked down at Maria’s plate and said, “Have you ever had escargot before?”
“No.”
“They’re snails.”
“I can see that.”
“You use that small fork to dig them out of their shells, dip them in the melted butter, and eat them.
Does it disgust you?”
“Not particularly,” Maria replied as
she picked up a snail and eyed it curiously.
“Do you intend to answer my question?”
“In a minute.
Try it.
It’s delicious.”
The woman pried the meat out of the shell, and after she dipped it in the small cup of butter, she put it in her mouth.
The flavor was unlike any she had ever tasted.
She swallowed and nodded.
“It’s not bad, but it takes some getting used to.”
“As so many worthwhile things in life are.”
“Are you including yourself in that category?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
You asked me how you would think of me if we had met under more normal circumstances.
I can’t answer that question without
guessin
’, but I would have to say that we should think back to the way things were going between us before we discovered that we had a tie that binds.
What did you think of me then?”
Maria carefully salted a radish, and then nibbled at it to keep the man in suspense.
There was a mischievous glint in her eyes when she said, “You were . . . powerful and scary.”
“Only that?” Steve asked with a quirk of an eyebrow.
“Maybe more,” Maria reluctantly admitted.
“You certainly caught my interest.”