There I sat across from Nash Reynolds in a charming little café with a lovely view of Bourbon Street. I’d come close to turning down his lunch invitation, but the truth was I was so hungry I was almost shaking. Although the breakfast at Inn Boudreaux looked delicious, I hadn’t had much appetite this morning.
Whether it was low blood sugar, or how rattled I was in reaction to Nash, I was ravenous at this point. I took a sip of my water and reached for a sweet potato fry. Nash had ordered them before we even sat down. It was lightly battered and the perfect combination of salty and sweet as I bit into it. I didn’t realize a little moan escaped until Nash arched a brow, one corner of his mouth hitching up.
“Good, aren’t they?” he teased lightly.
I felt my cheeks heat. “Good isn’t enough. Delicious is more fitting.”
“Everything here is excellent.” Nash glanced up when our waiter arrived at our table again.
“Do you two need a few more minutes?” the young man asked politely.
Nash looked over at me, cocking his head to the side.
“What do you recommend?” I asked, glancing at the waiter.
“Today’s special, shrimp with bacon and grits, is a favorite.”
“I’ll vouch for that. It’s my favorite,” Nash replied, the subtle twang to his voice sliding over me like honey.
“I’ll take that then.” I handed over the menu. I’d hardly been able to focus on the menu, not able to absorb much of anything.
When Nash slid his menu to the edge of the table, the waiter immediately picked it up. “I’ll take the same. Would you like some wine with that?” Nash asked, glancing at me.
“Oh, no,” I said, shaking my head quickly. “I’m driving.”
I sensed Nash had many questions, but he didn’t ask them. As the waiter turned away, another man approached our table. He appeared to be a businessman, dressed in slacks and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He nodded to me before his gaze swung to Nash. “How are you doing, Nash? Any updates on the issues with that project?”
As Nash began to reply, I tuned it out because I didn’t need to listen. Instead, I took a moment to let myself soak in the view of Nash. His hair was dark gold with light streaks as if kissed by the sun. His skin was burnished bronze with his hazel eyes standing out in contrast. His eyes were mesmerizing—a swirl of green, gold, and brown. The depth of color was intense. His features were bold with defined cheekbones, his nose sharp and straight, a strong square jaw, and sensual lips.
There was no doubt he was well built as his shoulders filled out his button-down shirt that was paired with faded black jeans. Although he wore the casual business look well, he had a restrained energy to him. As if he could throw that polished look off in a flash and his raw, potent masculinity would burst forth.
I imagined he had plenty of women chasing after him. I couldn’t say I was particularly familiar with Nash Reynolds, but I knew his name. With my older brother deep into tech investments and tendrils connecting him to various businesses all over the world, I knew he’d been involved in security planning on the tech side for Nash’s sprawling real estate investments in New Orleans. Rumor had it the man owned half of this Southern city.
It was only when I heard Nash saying, “You have a good afternoon now, Johnny,” and his gaze swung back to me that I realized I’d been staring.
When Nash’s gaze collided with mine, my pulse lunged, and my belly spun. Once again, I felt my cheeks get hot. I tried to tell myself I was rattled from such a bizarre morning, but my body wasn’t buying that argument.
“So,” Nash drawled, “do tell me what brought you to my office looking for not-your-Brett this morning, Mari?”
I traced my fingertips around the water glass set on the dark wooden table. For a moment, I considered coming up with some sort of explanation that wasn’t humiliating. But the reality was, I was well and done with Brett after his little stunt, so there was no sense in lying.
“Well, we came down for a weekend stay at a bed & breakfast. It was supposed to be a nice getaway because we’ve both been really busy. Now, he’s gone, and I have no idea where he is. He didn’t even pay for our stay, and I’m flat broke. To make a long story short, he’s an asshole. I thought perhaps I could track him down and at least give him hell. But it’s probably best if I let the whole thing go.”
Nash’s gaze held mine as he shook his head slowly. “I suppose I’m glad to know you’ve seen his true colors.”
“Oh, did you know Brett? I mean, beyond seeing him this morning.”
“I only met him this morning. Before he showed up unannounced, he reached out about an investment opportunity. As I do with any possible investments, I did some looking into his assets and discovered everything was fluff. I declined to meet with him, but he showed up anyway. I gave him five minutes and escorted him out. I can’t say I know him personally, but I can tell you his finances are nothing more than a game of smoke and mirrors.”
I stared at Nash, anger churning in my gut. Not anger with Nash, mind you. But fury with Brett. I might not know Nash Reynolds well, but I knew he had the resources to assess Brett’s supposed financial wizardry. If he thought it was all fluff, it likely was.
“You’re telling me—” I closed my eyes and shook my head. After a slow breath, I looked over at Nash. I felt like an idiot. “Never mind. It doesn’t really matter in the end. I’ll enjoy my lunch and get on with my life.”
Nash’s gaze swept over my face. It felt as if he could see right into me. Considering the events of the morning, I felt far more vulnerable than I preferred. Complicating matters was my body’s reaction to Nash. My body tingled under his intent focus, and a subtle heat suffused me. On the heels of a deep breath, I reached for my water and took another gulp.
Although I’d just blurted out the humiliating truth of my situation, Nash didn’t know the compounding layers of history behind it. When I had first started dating Brett, my older brother—my bossy, far too together, older brother—hadn’t liked him. Not one bit. In fact, Max had said he thought Brett was using me.
Because I could be stubborn, and because I didn’t want to believe Brett had been using me, I’d ignored Max’s opinion and continued dating Brett. It had only been a year, but the doubts sown by Max’s initial perception had never dissipated. As it was, Brett and I had drifted apart and hardly seen each other for the last few months.
This morning was a spectacular example of why Max had been exactly right. Blessedly, Nash was gracious enough not to push the subject any further. Another interruption from yet another business acquaintance of his gave me enough time to finish eating while he made small talk about some project in New Orleans.
Meanwhile, I was doing mental math, trying to calculate how I could scrape together the funds to cover the bill at Inn Boudreaux. I figured I was going to have to put it all on a credit card and hope for the best. When our waiter arrived, she asked if it was one check.
“Oh, no,” I replied, shaking my head.
Nash arched a brow before glancing at the waitress. “One check, please.”
“I can get my own lunch,” I insisted.
Nash stared at me, once again, his gaze feeling like an X-ray on my brain. I mentally battened down the hatches and pulled my pride into place, tattered though it was.