Wrong Place, Right Time(98)

Dev takes a long drink, swallows, and then sighs with satisfaction. His eyes are closed in bliss. “Best sweet tea in Louisiana.”

Melba has already left our table, but she hears him and laughs. I can see why he comes here a lot. They treat him like he’s somebody special, and he is. I’m glad I’m not the only one who sees it. Guys like Dev deserve to be treated well. I have to look down in my glass to keep from smiling like a goofy fool at him.





CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

So, what are you and Jacob doing for Halloween?” I ask.

Dev opens his eyes and leans forward a little. “Halloween is a really big event at the Lake household.”

“It is, huh?”

“Yes. I have to get very creative with the costuming. Every year, the bar is set a little bit higher. By the time my kid is in his last years of trick-or-treating, I’m going to be recruiting people from Hollywood for these costumes of his.”

I lean in, intrigued. “Really? What did he go as last year?”

“Shark.”

I blink a few times, trying to picture it. “Shark?”

“Yep. Shark. Bull shark to be exact. Toughest, baddest-ass shark in the world.”

“Second only to the great white,” I say, repeating facts I’ve heard on my favorite TV channel.

“I beg to differ,” Dev says. “The bite force of the great white is not nearly as strong, being that their diet is mostly soft-fleshed animals like seals, whereas the bull shark regularly has to crunch through sea turtle shells.”

I sense a fellow Animal Planet fan and lean in, ready to go head-to-head. “Maybe, but if you really want to go as a badass animal, I suggest you look no further than the saltwater crocodile.”

“Agreed.” Dev leans in and winks at me. “I think you just solved my costume problem.”

“How will you build a croc costume?”

“I have no idea.” He picks up his glass and takes a sip. “All input is welcome.” He crunches on some ice as he waits for me to respond.

I chew my lip and think about it for a few seconds. “Maybe you should do something easier, since you don’t have much time. Like Batman and Robin.”

“Did it already. Two years ago.”

“How about . . . traditional stuff, like a ghost or a witch or a vampire?”

“Amateur hour. We did that when Jacob was two years old.”

“I was going to be a witch, but okay . . .”

“You can do better than that.” Dev gives me the eye. “I bet you’ve got all kinds of creative ideas floating around in that brainy head of yours.”

“I might have some creativity, maybe, but I don’t have time to do anything with it. That’s my biggest problem. I always cop out and get some cheap costume at the drugstore.”

“Well, now that you’re working with us, you’ll have more free time on your hands, right?”

I shrug. “I guess we’ll see.”

Dev gets serious. “Are you happy? Are you glad you got the job?” He seems to really want to know my answer, leaning in and staring at me.

I want to see that smile light up his face and that dimple cave in on his cheek, but I also know that I need to be honest with him. Just like I need to be honest with myself. I take a breath before answering.

“I am happy. I’m also a little bit worried.”

“What are you worried about?” The concern in his voice makes it easier for me to think about my answer and make sure it comes out right.

“I’m just . . . worried that I won’t be able to do the job. And I guess I’m also worried about the danger involved.”

“The danger is very minimal, I promise. I wouldn’t want you working there if I thought it was something to worry about.”

The way he says it makes me curious, as if he has some sort of personal responsibility toward me. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs and leans back against his seat, suddenly acting casual again. “You’re a single mom. You can’t afford to take risks that other people could, so I wouldn’t want you to work somewhere that wasn’t right for you.”

I love that he gets me. It’s like he’s validated my feelings or something. “And you think Bourbon Street Boys is right for me?”

He nods. “I do.”

We could probably talk about this subject all night, but our fried catfish shows up along with some hushpuppies and a pile of coleslaw, and the next twenty minutes are spent diving in and enjoying every last morsel of food that Dev was absolutely right about.

Truth be told, I am not the biggest catfish fan in the world, but the serving of it I’m indulging in here could easily change my mind on that. The batter is crunchy yet flaky, and the catfish itself, tender and fresh. It doesn’t even taste like fish.