But Trina was ignoring him, her attention completely on me. “Peyton, it’s the best place in N’awlins for pastries and croissants. Their napoleon is to die for!” she continued, her eyes wide and her head bobbing up and down as if she were subconsciously agreeing with herself. “I’m tellin’ you, it’s to die for!”
I glanced up at Ryan and shrugged. “Well, how can we turn that down?”
Ryan chuckled. “Guess we can’t.”
Croissant d’Or Patisserie was located on Ursalines Avenue in the French Quarter. It was a cute little place with high ceilings and white subway tiling on all the walls, offset with blue tiles around the perimeters of the doorways. The decorative accent that caught my attention immediately, though, was the incredibly intricate crown molding. In contrast with the baby-blue ceiling, the crown molding (which had to be at least a foot or two tall) featured a white background with inset white ribboning above cascading boughs of pink, yellow, and white roses.
“Ryan Kelly, long time no see,” the girl behind the counter said with a half-smile aimed at the man in question. She leaned against the glass case covering myriad pastries, croissants, and sandwiches and raised a brow at Ryan who seemed a bit…uncomfortable. He cleared his throat and I could see the surprise registering in his eyes as soon as they focused on her.
“Hi, Jenny, how are you?” he asked, thrusting both of his hands inside his pockets while he displayed a sudden and thorough interest in a piece of carrot cake behind the glass.
“I’m fine,” the girl answered. She was pretty with long, straight dark hair and large brown eyes…brown eyes that narrowed once she focused on me. “And who is this?” she asked, feigning interest but there was definitely something closer to jealous annoyance behind her eyes.
“Ah, excuse my poor manners,” Ryan said with a put-on cough as he took the few steps that separated us and, reaching out for my forearm, pulled me in front of him before then deciding he wanted me standing beside him instead. “This is…Peyton,” he finished.
“Nice to meet you,” I said with a hurried smile as I wondered why in the world Ryan was acting so bizarre. He cleared his throat for the second time in the course of four minutes and then pulled me into him, wrapping his arm around me as he pointed at what looked like a ham and cheese croissant sitting on the top shelf behind the glass. I was so surprised by the sudden physical contact that I didn’t even respond.
“Those are pretty damn good, Pey,” he said, still pointing at the croissants. When I glanced up at him with a confused expression, he simply shrugged and smiled in such a manner that I realized he was begging me to play along…why, I had no clue, but figured I’d find out shortly.
“Ham and cheese croissant for you, Ryan?” Jenny asked impatiently and then frowned at me. “You know what you want to order?”
“Um, I’ll have the same,” I answered with a sheepish smile before I remembered Trina’s comment about the napoleons. “Oh, and a napoleon.”
Jenny nodded but didn’t say anything more, simply ringing us both up. She then spouted out our total with stiff lips. Ryan was just as quiet as he paid and then led me through the bustling room to a small table in the corner, just beside a door that led to the bathroom, which appeared to be outside in a courtyard of sorts.
“So, lemme guess, bad date?” I asked as I realized neither of us had ordered anything to drink.
He glanced at me and smiled, shaking his head. “Never even had a date with her.”
“So?”
He sighed. “She just has…this…thing for me,” he finished finally and then threw his hands up in the air like he just didn’t understand why any woman would have a “thing” for him. Apparently he hadn’t looked in the mirror lately. “That’s why I usually try to avoid this place.” He took a breath and then offered me a smile of consolation. “I’m sorry I had to recruit you.”
“Ah, you mean, into playing the part of the girlfriend?” I asked with a small grin.
“Yeah, thanks for playin’ along.”
I caught the whiff of freshly brewed coffee coming from the counter area and had a sudden thirst pang. Damn it all, but I was going to have to brave the scorned woman, otherwise known as Jenny, because I really, really wanted a cup of coffee. “Welcome,” I answered absentmindedly. “That coffee is calling my name.”
“That’s right!” Ryan exclaimed with a slight chuckle as he shook his head. “We didn’t order any beverages!”
“Yeah, you were too concerned with escaping the lovelorn looks of your admirer over there,” I answered with an amused smile as I inclined my head in Jenny’s direction.
“I’ll get us some coffees,” Ryan answered as he stood up and, eyeing Jenny, grumbled something unintelligible.
“Going back into the trenches?” I asked with a slight laugh.
He cocked his head to the side and sighed dramatically. “The things I do for you, Peyton Clark.”
I laughed again and watched him meander to the front counter where he made small talk with Jenny, who still looked like she was pretty ticked off that he and I were here together. His shoulders were tight, giving him the overall look of someone completely uncomfortable. Moments later, he paid for the coffees, thanked her, and lumbered back toward our table.
“Was the mission successful?” I asked as he handed me a mug of steaming coffee, followed by a small carafe of cream. I dutifully accepted both, immediately pouring half of the cream into the coffee and following suit with two packets of Splenda.
“As successful as it could be, given the circumstances,” he muttered.
I smiled at him innocently and even batted my eyelashes, deciding to play the fun game of prying. “So, what’s wrong with Jenny? She’s a pretty girl and she’s obviously into you…”
He shrugged and feigned interest in his coffee, not even bothering to glance up at me when he answered. “She’s not my type.”
I took a sip of my coffee. “Why not? What’s your type?”
“Not her,” he answered evasively and then turned around in his seat, presumably to check and see if our food was on its way.
“Why not her?” I continued prodding, determined to get some juicy morsels out of him.
He chuckled, bringing his attention back to me. “You are relentless!”
I shrugged. “Hey, I figured you owed me one for forcing me into playing the part of your girlfriend and, consequently, suffering the wrath of Jenny, the harpy!”
“The harpy!” he repeated and exploded into a raucous laugh.
I smiled but wasn’t quite finished. “That’s right, the harpy! I can also tell that this whole subject makes you very uncomfortable so of course I want to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong…”
He laughed again but didn’t seem in the least bit offended or irritated that I was prying. “Okay, Peyton,” he started, leaning toward me as he enunciated each syllable of my name. “She’s very clingy, she’s not interestin’, and I’m not attracted to her. How’s that for why she isn’t my type?”
I shrugged and sipped my coffee, not sure why I was so incredibly happy to hear him say those words. “She’s a pretty girl.”
He nodded but then glanced around the room before his eyes settled back on me. “This room is full of pretty girls.”
I took another sip and glanced around, realizing he was right—there were quite a few attractive women around us. Realizing my mug had given me a coffee mustache, I licked the top of my lip. “So what’s the problem with them?”
He chuckled and shook his head, like I was trying his patience. But it was all very much put on because a smile lurked at the corners of his mouth. “I’m talkin’ to the only pretty girl in this room who I care to talk to.”