Never Me (13 page)

“I’m sorry I bothered you. I was just curious.”

“For the record, I like you. I wish I was a little more uninhibited at times. I try, especially being married, but I guess I’m just a stick in the mud.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Amy. They never show what happens at the castle when the prince wakes Snow White up.”

She started laughing uncontrollably and then asked incredulous, “I remind you of Snow White?”

“Yes,” I answered plainly.

She seemed touched at my answer and patted me on the shoulder. “You know I handpicked Ellie out for Spencer and I had half a mind to be a real bitch to you at first, but this is better. And we love Rory.”

“Thanks, Amy, really. Thank you.” There was no other way to say it. At home we felt like a couple of outcasts, here we felt at home with our new friends and travel companions.

“Just … give him hell, Nadine. He deserves to finally get a dose of his own medicine. He has tortured a few close friends of mine. It’s been fun to watch him squirm around you.”

“That’s something I’m extremely good at.” I winked at her and she smiled and shook her head.

I let my hair down and straightened it perfectly. It had lightened a little in the sun in some areas but remained a dark, deep red in most. I put on a tall heel and some glitzy fashion jewelry one of the girls had lent me, including a necklace that hung in doubles clear down to my waist. It was very ‘New Orleans’ from what Ellie said.

Less than an hour later we met the guys at the hotel bar. Jack took one look at the job I had done on Amy and tried to walk her back up to the room. She laughed hysterically at his reaction and he planted his hand on her ass and kept it there. Spencer was turned away from me talking to Ellie when I took the bar stool on his left side and ordered a dirty martini. I tossed it back and started with the olive. When he finally turned to me he did a double take.

“Nadine.” It was a prayer. I winked at Ellie behind him as I turned fully on my swivel stool to face him.

“Spencer.” I stood up, ignoring his mouth which was slightly ajar.

“Where should we go first?” Ellie asked, the excitement evident in her voice.

“Pat O’Briens,” Jack said, keeping his hand on Amy’s ass as Ellie joined me to walk in front of Spencer. I turned to find Rory engaged in a flirty discussion with the bartender.

“Rory, we’re leaving.”

She leaned over and whispered into his ear and he nodded enthusiastically then turned to me with a smile waving us off, but not before ogling me from head to toe. A curse, I thought. There is no way I would tell Rory what that asshole had just done seconds after she probably propositioned him. God, how I hated that, but it also made me a hypocrite. If it was someone else’s date, I would have jumped on it. I shook my head in disgust and grabbed Rory’s hand.

“Love you, Rory. Ready to have fun?”

“Yep and I brought the camera!” I saw her check the battery as we all groaned.

I hadn’t seen an inch of the city and I felt the excitement hit as soon as we exited the hotel. I also felt the humidity. It didn’t matter. We had entered a different world.

Our hotel was right next to Bourbon Street, so naturally we made our way there. The bright neons caught my attention as well as their strange contrast to the age of the city itself. It was almost circus like with an old world feel. It was surreal. I felt the excitement pulse through me and I paused to take a deep breath, noticing Spencer had stopped as well. I turned to him and gave him a huge smile that he returned. Jack and Amy were tourist veterans of the city so we followed their lead, stopping first at The Cat’s Meow and then to what Jack named the world famous Pat O’Briens.

There were two huge bars on each side of the crowded room. The middle was filled with cocktail tables with literally no room for dancing, though people were trying their best. I was in total sensory overload. It looked like a scene from the movie
Gremlins
that I had watched as a kid where the bad Gremlins take over the bar and are swinging from the ceiling. The bartender on our side of the bar screamed at us to “Order now.” We all thought quickly, and as soon as our drinks were delivered, she jumped on top of the bar and kicked off karaoke by singing with the bartender on the opposite side. It was an old eighties song I recognized.

“Lame,” I said shaking my head.

“Don’t knock this music. It’s what our parents fell in love to,” Spencer whispered in my ear. He was almost fully flush on me and I had been so preoccupied with the sights and sounds of New Orleans I was only now taking him in.

He had on jeans and a black short sleeve shirt. He smelled like soap and heaven and had a fresh shave, making his dimples more obvious. I didn’t have time to appreciate it because I was pulled up onto the bar by the bartender who had just finished her song. Spencer helped, getting a good handful of ass as he assisted her in her struggle to get me up. The whistling was ridiculous and my entire crew didn’t bother to help me with my screaming protest. She called me out immediately.

“It’s 80’s night, baby. What’s your flavor?”

I shook my head no vehemently and heard a room full of protests. I attempted to get down but was stopped by the bartender.

“Sing or get out bitch,” she spoke directly into the mic, humiliating me as the crowd cheered for my slow execution.

Whoa. I looked around quickly and realized it must be the norm. I had better get with it and pick something quick. I gave her the only song I could think of, a song my mother played over and over on the record player when I was little. She jumped down and set up my song. A line of guys came up to me offering shot after shot, which I gladly took off their hands. By the time I took shot number four, Spencer was taking them out of their hands, angrily shaking his head no. He gazed at me with shock and awe, and with that look I felt more confident. I saw Rory rip out the camera and gave her the love finger as the first rift of the song came on. I looked to Spencer who mouthed Blondie and I nodded at him as we shared a little moment. Next thing I knew I had a mic in my hand, my shots hadn’t hit and I was up singing
The Tide Is High.

They booed me profusely, so I did what any woman with a shitty voice would do. I made it sexy. I started moving around, swinging my hips back and forth, dancing like I was balancing bananas on my head. I really had no talent for dancing, either. The crowd went wild when I started swaying. My shots hit after a minute or so and I began to really belt it out, trying to win them over. I had a crowd of guys follow me as I stepped over the tip jar and made my way around the bar. I sang the last thirty seconds to Spencer, who was smiling so broadly at me his whole face lit up. He chuckled as I imitated the voice squeak at the end of the song. I jumped onto him and handed the mic back to the bitch bartender.

“That really was the worst thing I have ever heard. You sounded like a dying Jonathan.”

I laughed as he let me down and I looked to Rory who seemed to be messing with her camera and gave me the thumbs up. Ellie was pulled up next and started belting out Joan Jett. Ellie was on a bar, in New Orleans, singing. What a different damn world we had entered. When Ellie’s song was over, she was held up by waiting admirers. Jack and Amy had managed to find a table covered in used glasses and we all gathered around sipping our drinks. Jack refused to let Amy out of his sight unless she had to use the bathroom. Even then he watched like a hawk. Amy would be having a good night. I laughed as Rory and Ellie walked with her to go.

“What’s so funny?” Spencer asked, noticing me looking on at the girls.

“Snow White’s going to get a spanking tonight. The good kind.” I nodded toward Jack who was watching for his wife long after she was out of sight. Spencer nodded as if he understood and toyed with Jack who was looking slightly uncomfortable.

“Amy is setting up wood all over the place tonight, bro.”

“Fuck you, Spencer. That’s my
wife
.”

“Sorry. Just pointing out that she looks pretty damn good.”

Jack just smiled as he caught onto his friend’s goading and threw a stray bar peanut at him.

“So this is New Orleans, huh? Like one huge party,” I said, addressing Spencer.

“It’s more than that. Much more. There are two sides. I’ll show you.”

“My own personal tour guide?” I leaned in and watched him watch me.

“I can’t call you beautiful and it kills me. What can I call you?”

“Nadine.”

“Nadine,” he said appreciatively.

“I’ve had four shots, Spencer. You match that and we might be able to tackle the scenarios going on in your head tonight.”

“Your wish is my command, but first let me show you something.” He walked me a few feet toward the back and I saw it immediately. It was a water fountain that had flames flowing throughout. I was instantly intrigued. He opened the French door that led out into the courtyard where it sat, very out of place—a huge cup of water and fire standing at least fifteen feet tall. There were lanterns lit, burning against the building in the distance. It was surreal, like we had stepped back in time, and yet everything surrounding us was modern. It was an odd mix and I loved it.

“It’s amazing what can happen when you say yes,” I said, letting Spencer know I was thankful for the invite to New Orleans. I studied the fountain, enthralled that something as simple as that brought me so much joy. “Two different worlds,” I repeated and turned to Spencer who eyed the fountain next to me.

“I’m going to hold your hand now, Nadine, and you’re going to let me,” he said, never taking his eyes off of the water filled with fire.

“I told you, Spencer, I don’t need that stuff.”

“Well I do.”

I let him take my hand and hold it. He gently rubbed his thumb over the top and I felt all my numb nerve endings from the shots come alive. This man… This man has got it. Whatever it was, he swam in it, drank it and resembled it. I was instantly ready to invite him again.

Rory burst through the door screaming, “I’m next. Billy Idol, bitches!”

“Oh dear God,” I chuckled as Spencer led us through the crowd to witness Rory’s horrible rendition of
White Wedding
. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t concentrate on anything but Spencer’s hand that never let go of mine all night. We drank until the early hours and the girls and I hooked arms, claiming our undying love, as we took turns throwing up on the way back to the hotel room we all gathered in. The guys simply laughed as our love fest continued until the room was quiet. I was not going to pass out tonight. I had actually sobered up a bit after my spill at the corner of Bourbon and God knows where.

I furiously brushed my teeth and made sure Ellie and Rory left to take the other room Jack and Amy weren’t occupying. Spencer look confused as he turned around and saw we were alone, then a slow smile graced his face. I walked toward him—kicking off my heels along the way— in what I hoped was a sexy saunter. It wasn’t. Because halfway through the sentence I was going to say, which was “Tonight game over,” I only got through “Tonig— before tripping over Amy’s huge suitcase and smacking my head on the fridge door, going down like a ragdoll.

Spencer was hysterical and concerned at the same time, if that was even possible. He couldn’t get the alright out of ‘are you alright?’ and I moaned over and over at the throbbing in my head from the fridge. He brought me to face him and I had tears streaming down my face from laughing with my head in the carpet. He gripped my shoulders and sobered suddenly.

“Are you really hurt? Nadine?”

“Yes, Spencer. I mean no, I’m fine.” I was humiliated. This would not make Amy proud. I had failed to teach the whore of Philadelphia a lesson. Instead, I was a laughing stock. Spencer lifted me to my feet and hugged me to his chest, which I hated. I pushed away from him and tore off my dress in one swift movement. That shut him up. I lifted his t-shirt, pulling it over his head and pulling it over mine. His eyes were heated, but not enough. The look was not coming tonight. Not with him picturing me spilling my shit in that hotel room. Damn it. He seemed to understand and flipped on the TV. He walked over to the king size bed, pulled back the covers and laid down, cupped the back of his neck with his hand, then patted next to him in an invitation to join him. Oh this was bullshit, I thought as my thoughts began to blur. I was still too drunk. I laid my head in the crook of the arm that he offered as he covered me with the nice cool comforter. I could feel the ache in my feet began in unison with my pounding head, but the bed made up for the discomfort quickly as I melted into his scent and the comfort of his arm. I heard Spencer mouth his disappointment with a “Damn it” and smiled as I drifted off.