“You have nonailsyet, baby girl.” Ophelia glanced back at Liza as she paused in the doorway that led to the kitchen. “Can I get you a cold drink? Maybe a beer?”
“I got it,” Connor said, striding toward the kitchen and then waving his hand at the couch. “Just have a seat, Liza. I’ll bring you a beer.”
Before Liza could protest about drinking at noon, Connor, Ophelia, and Caroline disappeared into the kitchen, where they continued to tease each other and giggle. Brennan lingered in the doorway to the kitchen, and Liza sat on one of the sofas.
Brennan glanced behind him and then crossed the room to sit on the coffee table in front of her. He braced his exposed corded, muscular forearms on his knees as he leaned toward her. “What happened, L.?”
She crossed her legs and folded her arms across her chest. “You’re assuming something happened.”
“I know something happened.” He winked. “I’m very perceptive, darlin’. You sounded different on the phone. And you look different right now. Are you all right?”
Liza instantly felt exposed, and she clipped indignantly, “You know, you’re kind of nosy, B. I don’t know why you think you’re helping right now.”
His pleasant expression faded into a blank face, and then he blinked slowly. Standing up, he offered her a nod and stepped away. “My apologies.”
It was clear she’d at leastsort ofhurt his feelings. That just made her feel like a jerk in addition to being a mess of conflicted emotions after kissing Connor earlier.
Liza sighed under her breath as Brennan left the room, and absently skimmed her gaze around the room to take in the pretty decorating of the old house. It had pale blue walls and antique accoutrements in tasteful quantities and varieties. Framed photos of the little McCarthy-Latimer family, as well as photos of them with friends like Connor, Brennan, Luke, and other people Liza didn’t recognize, were displayed on shelves and side tables. The atmosphere was filled with the music of Ella Fitzgerald spliced with the scents of magnolias and the savory food cooking in the kitchen.
Thiswas exactly what Liza wanted. This was the tangible manifestation of the intangible idea of the perfect house she’d been searching for.
But it seemed that the most desirable facet of the house was the fact that it was ahome; one that was comfortable and lived in by a loving family. And Liza was struck by the fact that, even if she recreated Ophelia’s interior decorating down to the tiniest detail in herownsomeday house, the space would be lacking the best thing about it.
Ophelia had something that Liza didn’t. Something that couldn’t be purchased at a store. Something Liza was terrified to take a chance on hoping for again.
“Hey, Connor!” Scott Latimer’s voice hollered from the opposite side of the house. “Come help me with this before you get stuck on my couch for the afternoon.”
“Be right there!” Connor emerged from the kitchen and marched through the living room.
He set down a beer on the coffee table in front of Liza and continued through the room without so much as looking at her. Brennan appeared after him, pausing to untie and pull off the apron to hang it on a hook next to the doorway, and then he crossed through the living room in the same path Connor had used. He caught Liza’s gaze for a second, offering another gentlemanly nod, but didn’t say anything either.
Something about the sight of them both walking right past her without much acknowledgment made her laugh under her breath. “Two moody hot guys. Someone should make a sitcom about them.”
“Oh, you haven’t seen the half of it yet.” Ophelia stepped out of the kitchen carrying a platter of fried shrimp, a little glass bowl of remoulade sauce, and a handful of paper napkins. She set down the items on the coffee table, grabbed a shrimp, and then sat in a chair opposite Liza. “Wait ‘til they’re drunk after a Saints loss. It’s one big tough guy pity party.”
Liza laughed again. “I can imagine.”
Ophelia popped the shrimp in her mouth, then chewed and swallowed behind her hand. “So, you work for Jimmy, too?”
“I do.” Liza sat up straight on the sofa and crossed her ankles. “I manage branding and digital marketing for indie record labels, and the band who was my bread and butter got signed to a major label, so I got laid off. Fortunately, my boss knew Jimmy via one of the bands we used to work with, and he really needed someone, so here I am.”
Ophelia picked up another shrimp. “And you came from out of town?”
“I did.” Liza reached for the beer bottle to pick at the label. “I was in Austin, Texas before.”
Ophelia stuck out her neck as excitement lifted her features. “No kidding!” She clasped her chest with her free hand. “Me and Scott are from Austin.” She hollered in the direction of the other side of the house, “Scott!”
“Little mama!” Scott hollered back; his voice muffled by several walls that separated them.
“Liza’s from Austin!”
“Yeah, I heard! Crazy, huh?”
“Totally!” Ophelia looked at Liza with a tickled grin. “What a small world.”
“Well, Austin and New Orleans share a common thread in this area.” Liza quietly tapped the sides of the bottle. “The whole indie music scene and all that.”
“All that jazz!” Ophelia chortled and pointed at the beer. “You can drink that. Nobody around here’s going to think you’re a lush for drinking at noon. Seems people think happy hour starts in the morning on Saturdays inN’awlins.”
