Chapter 4: That color's good on you

MY HOTEL WAS only a ten-minute walk from where Joss was staying. After a fast trip to a tailor my concierge had recommended, I spent the rest of the day sleeping, catching up from the night before. By the time I woke up and showered, it was time to pick up my date.

I blinked in the light from the setting sun as I stepped out of the cool lobby of the Monteleone and into the crowds building on the street. I loved the vibe and rhythm of New Orleans, the sounds of the feet and the cadence of the people's speech. I stood for just a moment, letting my mind reach out into the souls of those passing by.

I've always known what I could do, from my earliest memories. At first it was just another way to get what I wanted from my parents, even when I didn't know I was doing it, and then my dad began to train me. He was strict: I was never allowed to bend my teachers' minds or to manipulate people for gain.

"Then why do I have it?" I'd asked, sulking.

"You'll know when you're supposed to use it. Be smart about it, Rafe. This power isn't a toy."

I thought about my dad as I wove through the crowds. He'd been gone for over five years now, but sometimes I missed him like it was yesterday. And on other days, it felt like eons since I had a father.

On the corner in front of me, an exhausted-looking young mother was trying to cajole her toddler to stay in his stroller, while he bucked and screamed. People skirted around her, some rolling their eyes and others shooting her empathetic glances.

I focused on the little boy and probed for just a blink of time. All sound disappeared, as I fell deep into the zone, a place where nothing existed but my own ability. I felt his fatigue and unhappiness, and I tinkered.

He stopped crying and froze in place. A puzzled expression crossed his eyes, and then he settled back down and stuck a thumb into his mouth. His mother looked down at him, frowning, and then clearly decided not to waste any time second-guessing good behavior. She pushed the stroller away and disappeared into the surge of people around the corner.

Problem solved. It didn't hurt anyone to give that kid a little push into calming down. Still, I felt a vague sense of unease as I turned into the Hotel St. Marie once again. Would my dad have approved of me doing it? I didn't know, and he wasn't talking.

I half-expected to find Jocelyn waiting for me in the lobby, but it was in fact nearly empty. I rode up in the elevator and was knocking on her door at two minutes before seven.

The knob turned almost immediately, and Joss smiled up at me.

"Punctual. I like that." She stepped aside, waving her hand. "Come on in. I'm just going to grab a sweater, and then we better go."

I didn't know anything about fashion or style, but I knew sexy, and what she wore was that for sure. The golden brown dress clung in all the right places. The neckline dipped, giving me a teasing glimpse of cleavage when the draping shifted to the side. I was fascinated by the way the material clung to her ass, not leaving too much to my very active imagination.

She turned and caught me staring. "I take it you like my dress."

One corner of my mouth lifted. "The color's good on you."

Joss grinned. "Thanks." She pulled her sweater out of the closet and gave me a once-over. "You do clean up pretty good."

I didn't intend to tell her that I'd actually gone out to get the charcoal gray pants and navy blazer that afternoon, paying an extra hundred dollars to have them tailored and ready for tonight. I traveled light, and I bought new clothes when the occasion called for it, like it did tonight. One of the perks of being a Brooks and the unlimited resources that went along with that.

"So, where are we going?" I asked once we were in the elevator, heading down.

That wicked glint returned to her eye. "Me to know, you to find out. You know the drill. What's the matter, don't you trust me?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Sure. I'm just...curious." I let my eyes follow the curves of her body. Let her know that my curiosity extended to more than her restaurant choice.

I half-expected her to flag one of the waiting cabs as we stepped into the night, but instead she turned in the opposite direction of my hotel, toward Dauphine Street. I followed as we went deeper into the darkness.

Another guy might have reached for Joss's hand at this point, just to establish the tone for the evening. Hand holding is a proclamation—I'm in this for more than the company—and a way to stake your claim. But I didn't do hand holding anymore. It was one of my rules.

Instead I walked a step behind and almost ran over her when she stopped suddenly and turned down a dimly lit alley. She darted a glance back at me, flashing a smile.

"Sorry, I always forget exactly where this is. It's one of those places you have to find yourself. You can't tell anyone how to get here."

The narrow alley gave way to a small courtyard, bordered by the backs of several houses. Joss walked to a wooden black-lacquered door and rapped once. She looked back at me.

"Don't get spooked, this is just how you do things here. It's a very exclusive place."

"Spooked, me? Baby, it just doesn't happen."

Joss laughed. "I'll remember that later."

The door opened, and a woman in a long black dress stood above us on the step. She inclined her head to Joss.

"Ms. Pennell. So glad you could join us tonight. Please, won't you and your guest come in?"

The inside of the house was much larger than I'd expected, set up more like a living room than a bar, though I figured out that was what it was. People sat on sofas or leaned on chairs, holding glasses of wine or other liquor. A few women and men circulated, speaking to the guests. Though they carried no order pads, I decided they had to be wait staff.

The woman who had greeted us beckoned. "Ms. Pennell, let me show you to your table."

We followed her down a hall into a cavernous dining room. Small tables were set up throughout the room, strategically placed to offer discretion. Each one was covered with a cream tablecloth and lit with a single candle.

"Right this way." She headed for a table in the corner. "Marlene will be assisting you tonight. She'll be along shortly." She stepped away, smiling.

"Assisting us?" I raised an eyebrow. "We need assistance?"

"It's code for waitress. I know, it's pretentious crap, but trust me, it's the best food in the city."

"That's the second time you've said I have to trust you. I'm starting to get suspicious."

"Don't." Joss reached across and covered my hand. "It's all on the up-and-up."

A tiny woman with white hair cut very short teetered over to us. She had to be pushing seventy. Her face fell into a mass of wrinkles when she smiled.

"Good evening, Ms. Pennell. Your food is being prepared, and I would be happy to bring you a bottle of your favorite wine, if that pleases?"

Joss nodded. "Thank you, that would be perfect. And a bottle of still water, please."

Marlene bowed just slightly as she turned away. Joss grinned.

"I hope you don't have food allergies. There aren't any menus here. They prepare two specialties of the house every night, and you choose what you want when you make the reservations. Do you like seafood?"

"Yeah, most of it. Not eel or anything like that. And no food allergies that I know of. Do I want to ask what specialty of the house you picked for us?"

"Alligator and crawfish gumbo, with rice and mock choux corn. And they serve intriguing salads."

I tried not to let my lip curl, but I guess it didn't work. Joss cocked her head.

"What? You have something against alligator?"

"Not alligator. I just can't imagine a salad being intriguing. Sorry."

"Ah." She leaned forward, giving me a tantalizing view that I decided had to be much more interesting than any salad. "I'm glad to hear you're not afraid to be adventurous."

I opened my mouth, but whatever was about to come out of it was derailed by the return of Marlene, carrying two large white bowls. Lettuces of different colors and textures sat alongside tomatoes and some kind of nuts. I didn't recognize anything else. So this was an intriguing salad.

The waitress set the bowls in front of us and stepped away as a man took her place. He wore a black jacket and the chains of a sommelier, and he presented a dark green bottle of wine to Joss for her approval. I watched in fascination as she went through the ritual, sniffing the cork, swishing the wine and nodding her go-ahead for the man to pour us each a glass.

After he backed away and disappeared, she leaned toward me, her voice low. "I hope that didn't offend you. I realize usually the guy gets to taste the wine, but they know me here. Plus, I'm figuring you're not really legal. At least not when it comes to alcohol."

She tilted her head, one side of mouth lifting.

I narrowed my eyes. "And you are?"

Joss laughed. "Touché. No, I'm not. I actually just turned nineteen last week. But they know me here. I'm not a risk to them, and I'm not stupid."

"Hey, I'm older than you by a month. Maybe you should tell wine guy next time he comes over." I lifted the glass and took a sip. "On second thought, this is excellent. You can keep picking the wine."

She touched her glass to mine before drinking. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."