perform there. It’ll give a lot of these folks some of their first official paying gigs, though a lot of them do well busking down in the Quarter.”
“Sounds like you’re going to have a deep pool to draw from,” I told Jordan.
“Indeed. I’ve been working here for six years, so I have a long list of excellent young musicians ready for a spotlight. I hear you’re helping Miles find a property in the Bywater? Best place for it. I grew up there.”
“No kidding.” Now I knew why Miles had wanted me here. He wanted to show he had Bywater credentials and increase his chances to get Miss Mary’s place, but it was going to take more than a guy he’d barely started working with to do that. “Do you eat at Miss Mary’s?”
“We were too broke when I was coming up to eat out, but I get over there at least once a month now. Best chicken biscuits in town.”
“You tell no lies,” I agreed. “So how do you and Miles like working together so far?”
“We’ve been at this a while,” he said. “What, five years? Almost as long as I’ve been working here. He doesn’t like it when I say anything, but he’s the reason all those kids in there have instruments.”
Five years? Hmmm. So they didn’t just start working together to talk me into leasing them the café.
Miles’s ears flushed a dull red. “Enough, Jordan. This is about how this man has a brilliant eye for talent, and I wanted you to see that. We’d better get going.” He took me by the elbow—gently but as naturally as if we did this all the time—and guided me toward the exit. “See you around, J. We’ll get the property straightened out. Bye, Miss Addie.”
“Bye, baby,” she said.
He let go of my elbow when we reached the sidewalk, and I was glad, but I also missed his touch as soon as it was gone. Gah. I needed to get this man a property and get him out of my professional space as soon as possible. That meant that as impressive as Jordan was, I still wasn’t moving Miles into my downstairs property.
“So what’d you think?” he asked as we rounded the building toward our cars again.
“He sounds like a great choice to manage your club.”
“Right? And he understands the Bywater as well as you do.”
“Better,” I acknowledged. “But that doesn’t mean this is the right fit for replacing Miss Mary. You’re wanting to change that corner from one type of vibe to a completely different one, and I’m not down.”
“The vibe I have in mind is one hundred percent in keeping with Bywater. I’ve been doing a lot of research this week, really getting to know its history. Can I show you one more thing?”
I didn’t have any more appointments for the day, but it was a bad idea to spend more time with Miles. When I was too long coming up with an excuse, he grinned. “I promise, this’ll be worth it or I wouldn’t be trying to eat up your time.”
“What is it?”
“It’s over in the Quarter. I’ll drive you over and get you back to your car before dinner, I swear.”
Miles by himself, I could have resisted. Probably. But another ride in that Mustang...
“Fine. I can give you an hour.” I could technically give him the rest of the day if I wanted. But I couldn’t give him more than an hour and still keep my head in the right place. Much longer than that and I found myself drifting into such an easy groove with him that I attuned to him, becoming aware of the subtlest shifts in him, from the weight of his gaze when it brushed over me to tiny changes in his breathing. It made me feel like Creepy Gabi, the obsessed high school freshman.
No, thanks. She and I were done.
I’d go pay some polite attention to whatever Miles wanted to show me, then I’d go home and work on my pitch about why he needed anyone else for his agent but me.
Chapter Fourteen
Miles drove me to Orleans Street and pulled into a six-car garage hidden behind a gorgeous cream stucco building that was vintage New Orleans. As we pulled in, I caught a glimpse of dark-green shutters and lacy ironwork on the second floor balcony running all the way across the front of the building.
“Where are we?” I asked. Two other cars occupied slots in the garage, a Range Rover and a