The Pepper in the Gumbo (Men of Cane River #1)(2)

Alice murmured her thanks as she opened the bag. She hated that Bix knew the bookstore was losing money. The man was pretty observant for being nearly blind.

“Louis asked after you,” Bix said.

Alice took a large bite of still-warm beignet and chewed slowly. Louis Guillorie was balding, short-tempered, twice her age, and most definitely not Alice’s idea of a romantic partner. The day she graduated high school, he’d asked her out by telling her he had a thing for green-eyed Creole girls. She’d almost cried, trying to let him down easy, afraid to bruise his ego. After nearly ten years of searching for the gentlest way to get through, she decided it wasn’t her problem if he wouldn’t face the facts. Now she just pretended the owner of The Red Hen didn’t exist. It was a whole lot easier than feeling guilty about hurting his feelings.

“Wanted to know if you were still seeing that short Yankee with the horsey laugh.”

“He’s not short. He’s three inches taller than I am.” Eric was a perfectly nice guy who made great money as the area’s only dentist. She didn’t argue about him being a Yankee or the laugh. Eric didn’t laugh much, so she could almost forget about his unfortunate affliction.

“I told him to bide his time. Horse boy won’t last long. He don’t even take you out. A girl’s gotta get out of the house once in a while.” Bix took off his straw hat and unbuttoned his coat, as if he weren’t being rude in the slightest.

“He’s lasted four months,” Alice said. “And I’m a homebody. I don’t mind.” Eric was more than a little boring, but she was no rock star herself. Her mamere called her curvy, but that was just a nice way for her grandmother to say Alice loved beignets a little too much and didn’t love exercise quite enough. Her hair was so curly it had a life of its own, her mouth was a little too wide, and she wouldn’t ever be called anything more than pretty. Add in the fact that she owned too many cats and a bookstore that was hemorrhaging money, and Alice figured she wasn’t one to point fingers.

“You’ve got to get out more, especially since you’re up there all alone now. I felt better when that family was living in the other half. This is such a big old place. You could slip in that claw-foot tub, crack your head, and nobody would find you for days.”

Alice tried to ignore the visual that popped into her mind. “A possibility, I suppose.” If she fell and hit her head while getting in the tub, she certainly wouldn’t want her neighbors to come rescue her. Then again, she couldn’t think of a single person who would be really right for that job.

A short-haired tabby crossed the floor toward the back door, sending a glance at Bix that seemed to say she was highly offended but would suffer silently, as usual. “Jane Eyre wanted one of those maple-cured bacon slices you brought last time,” Alice interpreted. “And Eric is a perfectly nice boy, whether or not he likes to go out.”

“Boy. See? There’s your problem. You need a man,” Bix said, punctuating the phrase with a thump of the chest, his wrinkles magnified with a scowl. It would have been funny if he hadn’t been so serious. “Louis wants to take you to the zydeco festival this weekend. He sure is sweet on you.”

Alice loved zydeco music and the festival ranked as one of her favorite parties of the year. Her parents had met at a dance hall, her mamere sang in a juke band when she was young, and Alice had been listening to zydeco all her life. She could probably dance the crazy combination of swing and foxtrot in her sleep. But although Eric vowed he’d rather drill his own teeth than go, Alice wasn’t about to accept Louis’s invitation. “Yes, I’m aware. Well, we better get ―”

“You could do worse than Louis, you know. He makes a mean croissant, and he’s a morning person. My first wife was a bear in the morning. I love me some passion, and I gotta have a woman who puts a little pepper in the gumbo, but I didn’t make that morning mistake twice. When she passed away and I was ready to look again, I said to myself, ‘Bix, you get yourself a woman who won’t bite your head off if you talk to her before noon.’ Of course, Ruby is always real affectionate in the mornings so I had to adjust to―”

“Oh my, look at that dust!” Alice swiped a hand over the bookcase next to her. She cringed at the awkward interruption, but didn’t want to hear any more about Ruby’s morning affections. Every Sunday morning, nine o’clock, Ruby and Bix sat in front of Alice at the cathedral. If she heard any more, she would never be able to look the woman in the eye again.

“Dusty? That reminds me. My niece asked if you needed someone to come pass the mop once a week or so. She started a cleaning business all by herself called Nettie’s Nettoyage. She’s got five employees and two big vans. Maybe you seen them,” Bix said.

Alice glanced around. She would have died of embarrassment if anyone told her that By the Book was dirty, but apparently she’d just said as much herself and there wasn’t any way to deny it. “I suppose. Maybe I don’t even see it anymore. I’m thinking it’s clean while the dirt is just staring me in the face. You can give her my cell phone number.”

“I already did. She said you never answer. I explained how you’re against modern inventions.”

“I am not,” Alice protested. “You can’t possibly say that when I’m sitting in front of a laptop. I just believe all this technology has a place.”