Dragons Wild

At the sound, even though he was across the street, his back stiffened and he turned on his heel, eyes searching. There was no way for Valerie to hide that she was watching, but she didn’t bother. Something about the way he moved, and now he moved toward her like a man with a purpose, captivated her eye. She noticed the well-muscled build of his shoulders, and the well-styled line of his hair, and the way people moved out of the way for him. He strode across the street, apparently ignoring the passing cars, and stopped a few steps from the rail separating the cafe from the street.

“Do it again,” he said in a voice that was soft but compelling, even through the early morning hustle and bustle.

“Do what, precisely?” Valerie said a little cooly.

“Precisely? That wonderful, rich laugh that cuts through the world and was worth more applause then a hundred little girls.”

“Oh, that.” Valerie tried for dismissive, but could feel a flush creeping up her neck. She covered it well. “Perform for little girls a lot do you?”

“Ah, well, I used to give out candy, but for some reason the words ‘want some candy, little girl’ set off all kinds of people these days.”

She smiled at him, and gave him points for picking up her tone, and rolling with it.

“Well, if you want a laugh from me, I don’t think another fake rose will do it.”

“Ah, but for the lady, the real thing is a must.”

And just like that he was holding a red rose, stem trimmed off but petals bright and fresh. He held it out for her, not letting his eyes break contact.

“What do you do, stuff them up your sleeves before you go out just in case you need a handy pick-up bit?”

“I think I’ve got pearls up my other sleeve if you’d rather,” he said.

At that she did laugh. She couldn’t help it.

“You try giving me pearls in the first fifteen minutes of a relationship, and I’m going to start looking for your sexual predator file.”

“Then the relationship is already started? Oh, goody.”

“You don’t go half fast do you? And no one says goody,” Valerie said.

“I thought joy and rapture might be pushing things a bit,” he said.

Valerie was used to strong come-ons, and dealing with them, but more and more she was becoming interested. Seeming to pick up on it, he straightened and tossed the rose over his shoulder.

“Not pearls or roses then. Dinner perhaps? Name the place and time and I shall be there.”

“You haven’t even asked my name, or offered yours.”

“Which line would you prefer? A rose by any other name, or something along the lines of Dulcinea. As for mine, I’m Nathaniel.”

“Nathaniel what?”

“Oh, Mother won’t tell us, just in case we should ever try to track down Father.”

“Ha! Oh, you won’t get to evade that easily for long Nathaniel.”

“Quite right, but you must come to dinner if you want to try for more.” Nathaniel grinned.

He pulled a business card out of his left pocket and flipped it onto the table casually. He had yet to close the final distance, and he still didn’t. Instead he turned and walked back toward the Square, without a backward glance.

Valerie thought for a moment and pocketed the card.

Thirty-seven

It was early August, and the New Orleans summer had descended with all its sticky, humid splendor. The ever-present construction crews started working early in the morning…very early in the morning…so they could knock off and be off the roofs and out of the sun before the temperature hit its peak around two in the afternoon. All the shops, restaurants, and bars were running their air conditioners at full blast to provide a lure and a refuge for the tourists who weren’t used to summers in the South. Locals ran their air conditioners full blast to keep from going crazy and killing each other. (Those who couldn’t afford air-conditioning went ahead and went crazy and killed each other.)

If at all possible, one avoided going outside until after the sun set. Unfortunately, it didn’t make that much difference. The semiregular afternoon cloudbursts didn’t cool things off the way they would up north. They simply added more moisture so that when one did go out, it had the same feel as stepping into a sauna.

It was early evening, and Griffen was at Mose’s place getting a crash course on sports betting. During a break, as he was staring out the window, he realized something he had only noted in passing before.

The difference between the temperature inside the house and outside was so extreme that moisture was forming on the outside of the windows. This was, of course, the exact opposite of what he had experienced up north.

He pointed this out to Mose.