Page 81 of Bourbon Kingdom
“I’ve seen you do it.”
“Liar,” he chuckled, as did I.
“I’m not lying! There was a night when we were drinking—”
“I’m going to stop you right there. Any sentence that starts with we were drinking, I’m not going to believe. Have you seen you drunk?”
“Yes, and I am a delight, just an absolute delight,” I responded with my chin held high and confidence in my voice.
“Yes, a total delight. Need I remind you . . . cow vagina?” he asked, referring to a night I “supposedly” started calling him a cow-vagina face. I have yet to see the evidence.
“Funny thing is, Jett, you keep bringing that up, but I have yet to see the video of this. How can I believe what you’re saying to me? I can’t let you drag the great Goldie name through the mud with such lies.”
“Come over here right now, Little One. I’ll show you.”
Fuck was I tempted. I was so damn tempted I actually felt myself lean toward my shoes, but I knew it was a bad idea. By the way he’d been sending shivers down my spine since I’d gotten on the phone with him, I knew I was bound to end up in the Bourbon Room with my legs spread and Jett Colby circling me, waiting to see what he was going to do to me.
“Maybe another time,” I answered lamely, not really knowing what else to say.
Easily, in a matter of three little words, I busted the bubble Jett and I were living in, and we were brought back down to the painful reality that we weren’t really where we wanted to be when it came to our relationship.
The awkwardness resurfaced and the inability to have a conversation with each other took over, rather than the easy flow we’d been enjoying.
Good job, Goldie.
Once again, clearing his throat, Jett said, “Can we talk about the date I would like to take you on?”
“Yes, I would like that,” I responded, all too politely. Who was the one with their pinky out now?
“Well, first of all, are you free on Saturday? I’m not sure of your work schedule.”
“My work schedule consists of me telling Diego when I want to work, so you don’t have to worry about that. Before I commit, because I don’t want to be that easy, tell me what you have planned.”
“Fair enough,” he chuckled.
Can I please just state for the record, I had never seen Jett Colby so easygoing before? Maybe the man was tense about Lot 17 for so long that I never really got to see the fun side of him, because all this laughter coming from the other end of the phone was warming up my damn heart.
“So, Saturday is the Gumbo Festival in the Quarter, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me . . . as a judge.”
I wanted to clear my ear out to make sure I’d heard him correctly.
“I’m sorry, did you just say as a judge? Like, I get to eat gumbo all day and criticize their recipes?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
I was about to scream from the rooftops yes, since I absolutely loved Gumbo, but then the scene unfolded in front of me, and I realized this would be a massive public appearance.
“Are you aware that if I go with you to this thing, we will be seen together in public; it’s not like we would just go there and walk around. No, cameras will be taking in the entire event.”
“I’m very aware.”
“And you’re okay with that? With being seen publicly with me?”
Without hesitation, he answered, “I would want nothing more than to be seen with you by my side. I meant what I said, Goldie. I want to date you, I want a relationship with you, a future. I’m in this for the long run. There is nothing that can get in my way, only you.”
Because I held the cards, he didn’t have to say it, I received his silent statement.
“Then, sign me up, Jett. I would love to accompany you to the festival.”
