The Pepper in the Gumbo (Men of Cane River #1)(74)

Mrs. Olivier paused, a cookie sheet filled with barbecue ribs in her hands. She looked from Alice to Paul and back. Then she opened the door and slid in the ribs. “And how many boyfriends have you had, Alice?”

“Mama,” Paul growled under his breath. “Let the girl eat.”

“Can you pass the biscuits?” Andy said. “These are great. So tasty. Fluffy. Just the right amount of…” He frowned at the one in his hand, “…dough.”

“It’s okay,” Alice said. She loved those two for trying to run interference, but she knew Creole mamas. They found out the truth, whether you wanted them to or not. “I haven’t dated that many. I like running my store. I’d like to have a family someday but I’m not lonely.”

“Plus, you don’t know anybody willing to take on that many cats,” Paul said. He winked and Alice had to laugh. He was the only person in the room who knew how accurate that was.

“So, then,” Andy started to say. He looked innocent to Alice but something in his expression must have tipped off Paul.

“Hey, pass back those biscuits,” Paul interrupted, a little too loudly.

Andy ignored him. “What would Alice Augustine look for in a boyfriend?”

“Current residency,” Alice said.

Andy guffawed in surprise.

“Temporary or permanent?” asked Paul.

Alice smiled. He’d known what she meant. “Permanent.”

“I guess Al’s out, then. Didn’t he say he lived in Lafayette?” Paul sounded a little smug.

“I s’pose you’re right.” She pretended to be disappointed. “Or he can just drive over here every so often.”

“And some people can fly over here every so often in their personal jet,” Paul said.

“Now, hold on.” Mrs. Olivier stood there, arms crossed. “Let’s just get to the meat of the matter here.”

Alice felt her smile fade away. She obviously deserved the truth talk because she’d just been flirting with the woman’s son, but she still knew that it wasn’t going to feel very good.

“How is it that you can be fixin’ to sue Paul and want to step out with him at the same time?”

“I’m not―”

“She’s isn’t―”

“Oh, y’all are givin’ me a head ache. I thought we could get some things straightened out here but we’re goin’ in circles for the umpty-umpth time.” Mrs. Olivier threw her hands up in the air.

“It’s not personal, Mama,” Paul said. He seemed chastised.

“Well, it should be.” She glared from one to the other. “If I expect anything from you, it’s to keep things personal. Only big city folk act like business ain’t personal.” She turned. “And that goes for you, too, Andy.”

“Yes, Mrs. Olivier,” he said. And there wasn’t a hint of a smirk.

Alice stared at her plate. Paul’s mom was right. Pretending that there wasn’t a person behind ScreenStop wasn’t right. But she didn’t know how to separate this man from the building down the street. He’d acquired a construction permit despite the zoning bylaws and she couldn’t just ignore it, either.

She took a biscuit and cracked it open. She still didn’t agree with the way Andy and Paul made a living. Games were a colossal waste of time. But she was beginning to understand how ignoring technology wasn’t the answer, either. It had introduced so many people to the old books that were once almost forgotten, and the e-reader gave Bix back the ability to enjoy books again.

She caught Paul’s eye and looked away. She’d been so sure she was right. Now she just didn’t know what to think.

***

“I’ll walk you back,” Paul said, getting up. They were stuffed full of ribs and all the fixin’s, happy and fed. But it was getting late and Alice looked tired. A little sad, too.

Mrs. Olivier reached out and gave Alice a quick hug. “Don’t be a stranger. And pray about that petition you filed.”

“Mama,” Paul groaned. That was the Christian way of saying “I know you’re wrong but you won’t take my word for it, so God will have to explain it to you.”

“Take care, Alice,” Andy said, waving from his chair. He was stretched out, one leg over the arm. His T-shirt had sauce on it but you could hardly tell. “I’m sorry again about the holes.”

Paul could tell Andy felt bad, but he was also sure he didn’t really understand why it mattered.

“It’s forgiven,” Alice said, smiling. “But who knows? Maybe I’ll sue you next.”

Paul snickered. It was weird that they could talk about it like it almost didn’t matter. But legal papers were no laughing matter, especially when the opening had been scheduled for months.

“You don’t have to walk me back. I live down the hall.” She smiled up at him.

“My mama didn’t raise me like that,” Paul said, opening the door.

“Actually, your mama has some sense, and would say, ‘She lives twenty feet away,’ but suit yourself,” Mrs. Olivier said.

Paul pretended not to hear her comment or Andy’s laughter. He followed Alice into the hallway, closing the door. They walked to her apartment in silence. He wanted to say something, now that they were finally alone, but nothing occurred to him. He wanted to reach out and take her hand again, but for some reason he couldn’t find the courage.