Seduction's Kiss

Chapter Four

After a few frantic moments of searching, I found the exact change the driver said I needed to ride the streetcar. I slid the cash and change into the machine, and the driver closed the door behind me. Without any warning the car started moving, and the jerking motion nearly had me flying through the air. Luckily I was able to grab hold of a pole, and then I held onto the first few rows of seats before falling into an empty one. The car was mostly empty, and I was glad no one seemed to notice my latest awkward moment.

As the car moved downtown, I opened the travel app on my phone. Reyna might not believe in GPS, but I did. I also believed in any app that could make my life easier. I searched for cafes, and quickly recognized the name of one. Café Du Monde. Evidently they were known for these donut like things called beignets and chicory coffee. Both sounded pretty good at the moment.

The outdoor café, covered by a huge green and white stripped awning, was busy, but I had no trouble finding a place to sit. I'd barely sat down when a waiter walked over. I'd already decided on my order thanks to my app. "One order of beignets and a coffee."

The server smiled and walked off. I was positive I wasn't the only one ordering that same thing.

While I waited, I opened the app and tried to keep planning my morning. It looked like most of the shops and galleries in the French Quarter wouldn't open for a while, but it could still be fun to walk around.

My breakfast arrived, and I bit into the hot and sweet beignet. On the first bite I got powdered sugar all over my black t-shirt. Perfect. Oh well, I'd dust it off. The beignet was delicious, and the chickory coffee gave me the pick me up I needed. Hot chocolate was my comfort drink, but after the night I'd had and the lack of sleep, I needed something stronger.

I glanced at my phone. Nine thirty. Less than twenty-four more hours left. We were planning to leave at eight the next morning so we'd be back in time for a mandatory sorority meeting.

After finishing my breakfast, I paid and wandered around Jackson Square for a while to admire the artwork hanging from the wrought iron fence. I took some pictures of the large Cathedral and listened to a solo violinist performing a jazzy tune before heading over to Royal Street.

I stepped into a few galleries, but the owners all looked at me skeptically. I wasn't sure if it was the remaining powder I couldn't seem to get off my t-shirt, or my age, but none of them thought I could afford their work. I couldn't, but that didn't mean I couldn't look.

The one exception was the owner of a photo gallery I stopped in.

"Nice camera." He gestured to the Nikon around my neck.

"Oh, thanks. It was a graduation gift from my parents."

He set aside some sort of book he'd been reading. "Graduation from?"

"High school. A few years ago."

"Great gift. What do you use it for mostly?"

"Oh, pretty much everything. I've been into photography for a while." My parents had bought me my first camera when I was seven, and I'd never stopped clicking away.

He laughed. "Same here."

I really looked at the guy. He was probably in his thirties. Owning a gallery in downtown New Orleans in my thirties didn't sound so bad.

I gazed around at his street scenes and portraits. "Your work is beautiful."

"Thank you. I try to capture the essence of the city."