Bayou Rouges: Dirty Part 8

Courtney pulled her Accord next to the curb in front of Clara and Jackson's house. She opened the door and twisted to extend her legs from the car in order to slip into her silver 3-inch sandals-she couldn't drive in heels.

She stood, grabbing her purse and wine offering in the process. As she was making her way toward the door Clara slipped from the house and met her halfway up the yard.

"Hey."

Courtney already did not like the look on her face. "What?"

"You look amazing, that's what!" Clara leaned in and squeezed her. I was so worried about you.

"Thanks. I'm much better actually." Courtney pa.s.sed her the wine.

Reading the label she nodded. "Pinot, very nice."

"So what's with the long face? Give it up."

"Tyler is here."

"Already?"

"Jackson told him about you and then he was...let's just say extremely eager to meet you." Clara's forehead broke out in worry lines as she awaited Courtney's reply.

"Thanks for the warning. Does he know my name?"

"Oh yeah. He's quite psyched about that part."

Courtney lifted her face to the sky, closed her eyes, and inhaled long and deep. "Let's get this over with, I guess."

"Sorry, Court. Maybe he'll settle down after he meets you." Clara shrugged.

"That's not usually how these things go." Experience had taught her that when a guy wanted to meet her or go out on a date with her based solely on her last name, he was interested in money first, love second or not at all.

With its light gray exterior, white trim, and black door the Olivier home was quaint and stately. Inside, the neutral color pallet and soothing lighting made the home very inviting. What wasn't inviting however was the open floor plan that allowed Courtney to see straight into the living room and into the heated dark eyes of Tyler.

He smirked at her. Smirked. She inwardly sighed as his eyes roved her from top of head to tip of toe, and back again. She shot Clara a sideways glance.

"Sorry," Clara mumbled.

They ambled forward; the guys did so as well until they were a group of four standing in the dining room.

"Courtney, so glad you could make it," Jackson said. "Allow me to introduce my colleague in the E.R., Tyler Stevenson."

Why not just introduce him as Doctor Stevenson? Courtney extended her hand, but instead of shaking it Tyler enclosed his two around her one. The warmth and clamminess her hand was currently experiencing from the doctor made a little chill run down her arm and she forced herself not to cringe.

"It is my utmost pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Puke. She nodded. "Thank you." Courtney tugged slightly at her hand, but he didn't take the subtle hint. Ten seconds...she'd be giving him ten seconds and then she'd be yanking her hand back. While she waited she took in his attire. He'd worn pleated khakis. Pleated khakis. Who still wore those? With his lavender polo shirt he was the epitome of Joe College. His undershirt annoyed her because the cuff of the sleeves dropped below the Polo sleeve's edge. If he needed an undershirt-all uppity types did-he should be in a tank if he couldn't purchase the right size. No real man wore an undershirt. She'd bet money Sawyer didn't. She slipped her clasped hand down and out of the reach of Doctor Stevenson.

"Please, won't you sit?" Jackson pointed to the couch and she complied. "I'll grab some wine gla.s.ses." Clara followed behind her husband into the kitchen, leaving Courtney alone with Tyler.

He seemed nervous as she caught the sparkle of sweat on his brow. "So Tyler, tell me about medical school."

"What do you want to know?" He smiled, looking relieved.

"Where did you attend?"

"Harvard."

Courtney gave him a nod. "Impressive."

"Pretty impressive all right-I've got a mountain of student loan debt to quantify just how impressive it is."

Okay...what was she supposed to say to that? "Well it's got to be worth it though...helping people on a daily basis. Saving lives."

His laugh was derisive and dry. "Yeah, that's what one would think. What actually happens is you work a seventy-hour week, make peanuts, and are bled dry by malpractice premiums."

Note to self...do not bring up work with Tyler.

"Jackson tells me you're a realtor."

"That's right." His eyes were intense and almost seared her to the couch so she turned away from him to face the fireplace. She smiled when she saw the framed wedding photos that decorated the mantle.

"How's the market?"

"It's slowly getting better."

"You went to LSU, right?"

"I did. General business."

"Must be nice to not have to depend on a job."

That had her head snapping so that she could place her eyes on him. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "Well let's face it, you can't be making too terribly much in this economy, but you don't have to worry about money anyway."

Courtney pressed her fingers into her brow where a headache was currently forming. It wasn't worth the wasted breath to set Tyler straight. Plus, it would give him insight into her family that he just didn't deserve.

"Headache?"

"Just a little one, but I sense it's going to get worse."

At her comment he sobered up quickly, straightening his back and squaring his shoulders. His ready countenance had turned to stone. Good. Now she no longer needed to feign interest.

Jackson returned with the wine. He scanned both of them, picking up on the tension in the room. She stood. "I'm going to go help Clara in the kitchen." She forced her feet not to run, but walk, from the room.

She set her gla.s.s on the bar and took a seat at the tall chair, huffing out the built up strain.

"That bad, huh?"

"Oh, my G.o.d...Clara, he started talking about his mountain of debt and how he basically hated being a doctor. Then he asked me about the housing market only to mock my career and then he threw the family money in my face."

"Are you serious?"

"Deadly." Courtney put her elbows on the counter, her face in her hands, and then groaned. "I really thought I had some good karma coming my way given the horrendous events I endured earlier this week."

She felt Clara's delicate hands on her arms. "Are you sure you're okay? I'm here you know, if you need to talk."

She pulled her face up to look into the sincerity of Clara's. "I want to talk about Sawyer and how I can't stop thinking about him-dreaming about him."

Clara's eyes. .h.i.t her hairline. "Do tell!"

"The day I showed the house in Audubon I ended up running into the woods behind the house to get away from my intoxicated client. But then I got lost and became disoriented. I don't know how long I was out there. More than five hours they think. He found me, Clara. He took me to the hospital and stayed with me. Then he took me to his house and cared for me in the sweetest, most gentle way I've ever known. I thought he might call or text now that he has my number."

"He hasn't?"

"No."

"And that night we shared...he was different than he ever had been before. But by the next morning he was back to himself and I felt so much loss for the man I'd met the night before."

"Different how?"

"Just different. Usually he's hard and intense, but that night he was soft and pleasant, like he was glad I was there with him. There was a connection too. He admitted feeling it at least."

"Really?" Clara's smiling eyes hinted at excitement.

"Yeah, but he'd said his life isn't his own. I don't speak man, but it sounded like he wasn't going to pursue things further and I'm afraid I was right."

"His life isn't his own?"

"I know. What the h.e.l.l does that even mean?"

"What was the connection you felt?"

"I don't know how to explain it to you." She leaned into the back of the bar chair and locked her heels in the rungs. "I've had three really close relationships. The last one was with Travis, and we all know how that ended."

"I hate that f.u.c.king b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

"Oh, my G.o.d...Clara! I've never heard you talk like that."

She immediately blushed. "It's the wine...sorry."

"No, don't apologize. I hate that f.u.c.king b.a.s.t.a.r.d too." They laughed.

"You were saying."

"Yes. I was saying that I felt something inside of me"-she pressed her fist into her chest-"it was something peaceful and content. Like I could live in that moment forever, staring into his face, and as long as he was near I'd be happy." She slumped. "It sounds stupid."

"No it doesn't." Her hand clasped Courtney's wrist. "That's the feeling I get when I'm alone with Jackson. I get it."

"Sawyer woke me at five-thirty the next morning and was all anxious and weird. I wish I could have frozen time on our moment."

"I have an idea." Clara tipped her wine gla.s.s up to swallow the last sip.

"Love to hear it."

"You have to take him to dinner to thank him or to extend your appreciation for what he did for you in your moment of need."

"I don't know if I can talk him into something like that. It's almost a date."

"Oh no, it's definitely a date. That's where the bulk of my idea comes into play. Tomorrow night a group has rented the cheese shop for a bachelorette party. Unbeknownst to me until about two hours ago is the fact that they're bringing their own staff. Well, I'd already mentioned to Sawyer that there was extra work if he wanted it, so he's prepared to show up in nice clothes to serve."

Courtney frowned. "Hmm, I think he'll be disappointed. I get the feeling he needs the work."

"That's the thing...I'm getting paid the same amount with or without him so I don't need him with the extra staff. I was still planning on giving him the cash."

"So what do I do...just show up and take him off your hands?"

She nodded. "Why not?"

Courtney folded her arms in thought. "I wouldn't want to push him away. He doesn't seem like the type of guy who would enjoy being coerced into a dinner date."

"It's not coercion. You really want to do something nice for him and I don't need him for a job he was scheduled to. You know you can be quite charming."