“I’ll be back tonight.” She stores it behind the front counter and says her goodbyes to Liam.
Holding the door for her, I glance at the old man. “Nice to meet you.”
He nods, his mouth pulling down at the corners.
Yeah, he has every right to not trust me. I don’t trust me, either.
“Is the deli next door any good?” Mr. De la Croix holds the door as I follow him out of Liam’s shop.
“Only the best sandwiches in New Orleans.” My stomach flutters with butterflies. Because I’m hungry. For food. Not because I’ll be eating food with Mr. De la Croix.
Instead of turning toward the deli, he steps to the curb and unlocks the passenger door of a shiny black muscle car. “Stay here while I grab lunch.”
I take in the GTO badge on the door panel, the 70’s-style woodgrain dash, and the black vinyl int
