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“You bet I do!” Heidi said.

Groaning, Lauren found herself dragged into the bar.

It wasn’t that bad. The host was a handsome, well-built black man with an exceptional voice. His choice of music was great; the place was hopping. The entire room actually seemed to enjoy the rendition of “Summer Nights” that Heidi and Deanna laughed their way through.

But when the two of them left the stage, Lauren was glad to see that they were feeling the effects of the noise and the crush of humanity, and were ready to go before she had to make a fool of herself in public. They left the club and headed for a darker place with soft jazz that was just down the street.

“Order me another one of those fizzy things I was drinking,” Lauren said to Deanna when they had found a table. “I’m off to find the restroom.”

She left her friends and made her way through the tables. When she reached the hallway that led to the facilities, she was startled when she ran straight into a man. She hadn’t even realized she’d been walking with her head down, deep in thought. Still, she wasn’t sure where he’d come from as she plowed straight into him.

Apologizing, looking up at last, she backed away.

He was tall, two or three inches over six feet, and definitely well built—she had almost bounced off the muscles of his chest. His hair was dark, a moderate length, and even in the shadowy hallway, it was apparent that his eyes were a deep and striking blue. She thought he was somewhere around thirty, with ruggedly striking chiseled features: high cheekbones, a long, straight nose, determined jawline and a high forehead. His mouth was generous, the kind that could harden into a thin line or curve into a quick smile.

He wasn’t model-pretty. He had the look of a man who lived, and lived by his own rules, heedless of others’ opinions.

“I’m sorry,” she said, realizing that she was staring at him.

But then again, he was also staring at her.

“Kate,” he murmured.

“Pardon?”

He took a step back, deep eyes almost burning into her. “No, I’m sorry,” he said. “You reminded me of someone. My mistake. Sorry,” he said again. But he didn’t move, and he was still staring at her.

As if he really did know her.

But he couldn’t possibly. She would have remembered if she had ever crossed paths with him before.

“I…uh, need to get by,” she said softly.

“Of course,” he said.

But he was still staring, and she felt a blush rising to her cheeks.

She didn’t know him, she was certain.

But she would like to.

She could introduce herself, of course. They were in a bar. People did things like that in bars. Some of them even went to bars specifically for the purpose of meeting people.

Some people did things like that, but she didn’t. She hadn’t dated in…well, only once since Ken had died. She hadn’t been able to work up any interest in the print shop owner Deanna had decided she had to meet. She just hadn’t been attracted to him. Maybe her feelings had still been too raw, the sense of loss too new. She had been completely in love with her finance. He had made her smile, made her laugh. And she had been attracted to him from the start. There had been nothing wrong with the print shop owner. He just hadn’t been Ken. She just hadn’t been attracted to him.

But this stranger staring at her, this man she didn’t know from Adam?. She was attracted to him.

She flushed at her own thoughts. Some people picked up strangers in bars. She didn’t, not at this stage of her life. She was here for Heidi.

She smiled. “Honestly, I didn’t mean to ram you. And I do need to get by.”

“Right. Sorry” He stepped aside.

She walked past him, heading for the door marked “Madames.” She couldn’t help but turn back.

He was still watching her.

Great. She was heading into a ladies room in a dimly lit corridor and a good looking but possibly very weird guy was watching her.

She entered, closed the door and leaned against it. There was no lock on the door, only on the three individual stalls.

I should go back, make Heidi or Deanna come with me, she thought. I’m going to be attacked in a restroom on Bourbon Street.

She was being ridiculous, she told herself. It was just the uneasiness left over from her experience in the fortune teller’s tent. The woman was probably still laughing at the three of them. She probably ought to report Susan to the tourist board. Imagine! Trying to scare them, telling them to leave town. That was hardly good for business.

She opened the door a crack and peered out.

The man was gone. She was relieved.

And also disappointed.

She let out a sigh, irritated with herself for still feeling nervous.

She was so nervous, in fact, that she took her time, unwilling to go back out into the club right away. She splashed her face with water after she washed her hands, reminding herself that she was being ridiculous. When she finally left the restroom behind, there was no one in the hallway.

The bar had grown more crowded while she was gone. As she wended her way through the crowd, she could see that Heidi was alone at their table. Frowning, she noticed Deanna was at the bar, chatting with a tall dark man. For a moment her heart thudded. Was it the same man?

No, not unless he had changed his shirt. The man she had met had been wearing a tailored shirt; this man was dressed more casually.

She started toward the bar and her friend. Deanna had definitely imbibed more than she had Tonight, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to let her friend get too close to a stranger in that condition.

On the other hand, Deanna wasn’t the one getting married. She was free to flirt if she chose.

Apparently she was simply worried in general tonight, Lauren thought. She headed for the bar, but as she did, the man turned and headed out to the street.

“Hey There,” Deanna said as Lauren reached her. “Her majesty wanted more cherries for her drink,” she said with a grin.

Lauren forced a smile in return. Deanna didn’t seem all that drunk, she thought. In fact, she seemed more pleasantly tipsy than anything else. “Cool,” Lauren responded, then asked, “Who was that?”

“Who?” Deanna frowned and flipped back a length of her long dark hair.

“The guy who was just there.”

“Oh. Just a guy.”

“Cute?”

“Yeah, kind of.”

“And?”

“I told him I was with friends tonight,” Deanna said. And she laughed. “I’m a big girl, so don’t worry about me.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Lauren lied.

“Yes, you were. And you still are. You’re still tense.” Deanna looked at her and sighed. “We shouldn’t have made you go to that fortune teller.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“She was weird.”

“She was striking, don’t you think?” Lauren said.

“A great face to sketch, yes, but weird. Come on. Let’s get back to the table. Heidi is going to want her fruit.”

The band was playing exceptional jazz; it sounded as if they had been together forever. As she sat, Lauren let the music engulf her, and she smiled. She came from this state, after all. She’d been in New Orleans hundreds of times. She knew the city well. Why she was letting the antics of a Jackson Square fortune teller disturb her, she didn’t know.

“So are you ever going to tell us where the honeymoon is going to be?” Deanna asked Heidi.

Heidi shrugged. “I’ll tell you guys, but not Barry’s friends. A few of them are crazy enough to show up.”

“Okay, where?” Lauren asked.

Heidi leaned forward, and her love for her soon-to-be husband was apparent in her gamine smile and powder blue eyes. “Fiji,” she said.

“Fiji. Wow,” Lauren said.

“You really think Barry’s friends might show up in Fiji?” Deanna asked.

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