“Excuse me, do I know you?” A tall
looking man with dark hair and a suspicious brow bent over Maggie. She jolted
awake, realizing her mistake. Exhausted, she’d fallen asleep and the owner of
her hideout had come home. She sat up, confusedly, brushing her hair out of her
face.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Isn’t this the
Burke’s house?” She murmured, blinking innocently.
“No.” The man replied stiffly.
“Oh, dear! Daphne Burke is a
friend of mine from college. I was supposed to stay with her and her husband
last night, but I must have gotten the wrong apartment number.” She jumped up
and brushed off her wrinkled dress, slipping into her shoes.
“Weren’t you surprised when there
was nobody here?” He looked her up and down, his frown fading.
“No. Daph said she’d leave the
door unlocked. They were going to her mother’s and I didn’t know if I would get
in last night or this afternoon, so she said to make myself at home. Isn’t this
414?”
“It’s 514. Don’t worry, you can
stay for breakfast if you want,” He replied, visibly more relaxed. “Sorry if I seemed
angry. Things just get crazy here around Marti Gras.” Maggie laughed.
“I can imagine! As if it isn’t
enough having strangers drinking and rioting in your streets, now you’ve got a
stranger camping out on your couch.” She twirled a strand of blonde hair around
her finger. “I’m sure sorry I bothered you.”
“No, it’s no trouble. Sorry I was
so uptight. I’m Jason, by the way.” He held out his hand. Maggie took it,
smiling.
“Audrey.”
“Well, welcome to New Orleans,
Audrey. Can I… get you some breakfast?” Jason said, suavely, with overdone
charm. Maggie hid her amusement and replied,
“Oh, thanks but no thanks. I’ve
been enough trouble already.” She pulled her hoodie up and looped her bag
across her shoulders. She was tired of the game for today, and ready to move. “I’ll
see myself out.”
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