Winning Her Heart

If he wants me, he’ll call again, she assured herself.

Exiting the restroom, she stopped by the kitchen to make sure Lucy wasn’t there. After closing out the dinner register, she’d asked her to go upstairs and relax, but her grandmother was always hesitant. She was woe to admit she wasn’t as spry as she used to be.

Jasmine understood how hard it must be to let go of something she’d been doing for so many years. Her grandmother never said anything outright, but Jasmine could tell by the worry in her eyes that she was concerned about the future of the bar and grille.

Donnie and Gloria called out their goodbyes. When they left, she shut off the lights, removed her apron and sank down into a chair.

With a yawn she didn’t bother to cover, she trailed her hand listlessly across the café curtains, parting them, and looked outside. Night had fallen. The parking spaces were empty, giving her a clear view of the empty building across Magnolia Avenue.

She’d seen no work being done, at least on the outside, but there was brown paper on the windows so the inside of the space was hidden from view. Lucy said that the entire building used to be a grocery store, so the space was huge, and they often speculated what type of business might move in.

“It better not be another restaurant,” she muttered, letting the curtain fall back into place.

Although if it was, she was the best person to meet the challenge to her grandmother’s business. Her work at the agency on marketing strategies to identify and circumvent competition was one of the high points of her life and she was pretty good at it. Maybe she’d end up doing more for her grandmother than pouring beers and learning to cook.

Maybe she’d actually help Lucy save her business.

Jasmine decided to take a walk and clear her head before going to bed. After locking the front door, she glanced across the street and her breath caught in her throat.

A light swiveled inside the building, a muted glow like a flashlight under a sheet, intermittently and at different parts of the otherwise dark space. Before she knew what was happening, her feet began to move and she crossed Magnolia Avenue. Cupping her hands against the window glass, she peered in, not really expecting to see anything, and didn’t.

“What’s up, Jazzy?”

Jasmine spun on her sneakers, nostrils flaring, and was surprised to see Micah. She’d been so focused on trying to see the source of the light that she didn’t even see him approach.

“W-what are you doing here?”

She couldn’t stand it when folks called her “Jazzy” or worse, “Jaz,” and thought it was a form of subtle disrespect. But out of Micah’s mouth, it sounded sensual, like the flower for which she was named.

She looked left and right, disoriented to see him now, and so soon. The old-fashioned streetlights cast a yellowish glow on the sidewalk.

“Where did you come from?”

“My parents’ beach house. After dinner, I decided to come back downtown and see if I can get into any trouble.”

His eyes slid from her face all the way down her body, leaving jet-spurts of intense warmth she wanted to feel again.

She stepped closer, hand on her hip, wishing she’d changed out of her work clothes. He hadn’t changed his outfit either and she almost burst out laughing when she realized they were both undressing each other with their eyes.

“What did you have in mind?”

“A ride.” Her eyebrows shot up, until he thumbed backward. “On the Bay Point Carousel.”

“Oh,” she said, exhaling a slow breath.

“I detect a tone of disappointment, Miss Kennedy.”

“Not at all. The Carousel is fun.”

But not as much fun as riding on you would be, she thought, holding back a smile.

“Too bad it’s already shut down for the night. Last ride is at eight thirty.”

“Let’s go for a stroll anyway. I have a feeling that we both need to clear our heads.”

He crooked his right arm at the elbow. “Shall we?”

Jasmine ignored the gesture and walked away, knowing that if he touched her, she would find him even more difficult to resist. She told herself that the only reason she was heading east, and not going back across the street where she belonged, was because she was going to take a walk anyway.

“If you won’t take my arm, will you at least take my advice?” he asked, catching up to her.

Jasmine shrugged. “Depends on what it is.”

“Don’t go peering into windows that are papered over. Chances are the owner doesn’t want you to see what’s in there.”

She stopped in her tracks and stared up at him. “I was closing up the restaurant and thought I saw a light being waved around.”

At his skeptical look, she paused. “At least I think I did.”

“While you’re snooping, someone else is dialing nine-one-one.”

“I wasn’t snooping,” she insisted, poking him lightly in the chest. “Just like you didn’t lose your pen.”

He grinned. “The point goes to you. All I meant was that I would hate to have to bail you out of jail.”

“You could call in a favor with the mayor.”

“I could, if I knew you better.”

“Is that why you came back tonight, and why you called to bug me earlier today?”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know. You just got home today. Any particular reason why you are back in town?”

“Just to relax and see my family.” He shrugged.

Jasmine folded her arms. “And you want to get away from them so soon?”

“Do you want to be around your family twenty-four-seven?”

“My folks don’t live on a palatial estate on the beach,” she tossed back in a breezy tone.

“Where are they? Back in New Orleans, I presume?”

She nodded. “My mother is but by dad lives in Baton Rouge. They divorced when I was twelve.”

As far as Jasmine was concerned, her grandmother was the only family she had right now.