I didn’t push. I would let it go for now. “Fine. So tell me what is it you want to see on Bourbon Street?”
This brought a smile to her face. “I have no idea. I just want to see it. And can we get beignets? I’ve always wanted to try the real things.”
“Yeah, we can. Beignets are better if you eat them sober. Let’s do that before we hit Bourbon Street.”
I expected her to tell me she didn’t plan on drinking. But she didn’t. She just nodded in agreement. Jesus. I hoped she wasn’t planning on getting drunk. Not dressed like that.
“How far can you walk in those shoes?” I asked.
“Miles.”
I started to argue and decided to let it go. If she wanted to walk in them, it wasn’t my business. Her toes could hate her later.
Lila Kate dropped her bags off quickly. She grinned like a little kid on our way to get beignets. I kept waiting for her to complain about the shoes she was wearing, but she never did. She seemed completely taken in with the scenery around her. Watching her experience New Orleans was more fun than my first trip. She was soaking it in. We had to stop to watch a group of guys doing a street show, flipping over people. Then we had to stop to watch a kid dance. Both times she left tips and clapped excitedly. It was fucking cute. That was the side of Lila Kate I knew. The innocence that only she made appear beautiful.
When the white powder from the beignets got all over her hands and shirt, she laughed as if it was the best thing that had happened all day. She dusted it off with ease, and then asked if there were places to go dancing.
Night had finally started to fall, and it was time to take her to the center of it all. Lila’s wide-eyed wonder as we entered Bourbon Street from Canal Street made me wish I had a fucking camera. Just to remember this. I needed a drink. My head was getting all fucked up. I needed to drink and get shit straight. Not think about taking photos of Lila.
“We’ll start here and make our way down,” I told her turning into a bar with live music. It was hit or miss with these places. You just had to go in them all until you found the best music. Most of them had the same drinks.
Lila beamed as we walked into the first bar. It was already crowded; the music playing was old eighties rock. I went directly to the bar. “What do you want?” I asked her.
“I don’t know. What do you suggest?”
“You’ve drunk before, Lila.
“Yes, but I always order the same thing. I want to do something different. Be someone different.”
“We’re in New Orleans. Why don’t you try a hurricane?”
“Sounds good to me.”
I wasn’t into drinking the sweet shit, but most girls liked that kind of drink. I ordered a Jack Daniels and a hurricane. The bartender was a female with creamy tan skin and clear blue eyes. The top she was wearing left little to the imagination, and I didn’t mind enjoying the view. When she turned to get my order, she winked at me and although I knew those lashes were fake they were hot. So were her ass cheeks hanging out of the shorts she had on. God, I loved Bourbon Street.
I glanced back to see Lila Kate studying the place as if she needed to memorize every detail. She was fine, so I turned my attention back to the bartender. She swung her hips as she walked back my way carrying the drinks. “I get off at two,” she said as she slid them in front of me.
“I’ll remember that,” I replied and gave her a fifty. “I don’t need change.”