Page 29 of The Hot Shot

Jamie smiles up at him. “We could name the dog Sue.”

“Okay,” I cut in, “you guysareannoying.”

They both grin wide.

“I brought beignets.” Jamie holds up a big bag from Cafe du Monde, the bottom of it spotted with grease stains. I swear my mouth waters. “James says they’re your favorite.”

Definitely serious if kissing up to the best friend is involved. God. I’m jealous. I’m actually jealous.

Snap out of it, you shrew!

The woman is wearing a sweater vest and a blue bow tie, for Pete’s sake. How can I not find this endearing?

“I love them. Thanks.” I take the bag from her and get us some plates. “Let’s eat on the balcony.”

On the balcony, I listen to James and Jamie finish each other’s sentences as they tell me how they met at a jazz club. I laugh along when they tease each other about how they fought over whether Duke Ellington or Ella Fitzgerald was better—neither, by the way; they’re two sides of the same coin. I stuff two beignets down my throat to keep from butting in with my own James stories. Because Jamie doesn’t need to hear that right now.

They’re so cute together, it makes my jaw ache and my heart contract. James is in love. I never thought I’d see the day.

He brushes a nonexistent crumb off Jamie’s chin, as she states that she should get going. “I know you have a shoot to do.”

“You can stay and watch,” James offers, his voice so gentle, I almost don’t recognize it.

“Oh, no,” Jamie says with a laugh. “I don’t think I can watch you oil up a bunch of big bruisers and not get jealous. Besides, there’s an art gallery around the corner from my place that I’ve been wanting to visit.”

“Do you live in the Quarter?” I ask her.

“I live in New York,” Jamie says, sharing a quick look with James. “I’m just here for a week.”

A week? They fell for each other in less than a week?

James picks at a seam in his trousers. “She’s going back next Monday.”

“I keep telling him he should come with me to get a taste of New York life,” Jamie teases faintly.

“And I keep tellingyouI have to work,” James shoots back with false playfulness.

There’s pain in his voice, and he can’t hide it.

An awkward silence descends. My mouth is filled with puffed dough, a coating of powdered sugar turning to paste against my tongue. James is my best friend. But I am also his boss. At times, the gulf between friend and boss feels as vast as the distance from here to New York.

I swallow down my bite with difficulty. “We only have one more shoot for the calendar after today. I can do the smaller jobs on my own. You should go visit. Take some time for yourself.”

James’s pale blue eyes meet mine, and it feels like a hug. I smile back weakly. Was he worried I’d say no? I’d never deny him his happiness.

But while James sees Jamie off, I stare out over the balcony rail, watching cars pass by and, in the distance, the Mississippi rolls along like a wide, brown snake against the land. I feel empty.

Pulling my phone from my jeans pocket, I text Finn.I’m good for Tuesday.

He answers a few seconds later, as if he’s been waiting.

GQ:It’s a non-date.??

I still don’t know what I want from him, but I can’t deny that the sight of that silly winky emoji makes me feel a little warmer inside.

Five

Chess