Residue by Laury Falter Read Free Book Online Page A

completely erased now.
    “ Weatherford.”
    His stare did not break for several seconds as he remained motionless, his breathing undetectable. He was working something out in his mind. I could see it in his eyes.
    “ All right,” he said slowly, as if the words were a struggle to release. It seemed he was still in the midst of evaluating whatever it was that had caught him off guard.
    “ Is everything-”
    “ Yes, everything’s fine,” he said, gradually relaxing by the time he reached the front desk register.
    “ That really is the right candle for you, Jocelyn.” He gave me a wavering smile before adding, “It’s beautiful.”
    “ Thanks,” I replied, still on edge. Whatever it was about my bracelet had clearly unnerved him and I wasn’t about to let it go. “Is there something wrong with my bracelet?” I stepped up beside him, close enough that he stiffened back up again.
    “ No,” he replied quietly. Then, as if it were an afterthought, he added, “Not with your bracelet.” Before I could ask exactly what the problem was – which I was certain he knew would come next – he ended the opportunity by calling toward the backroom door, “Mrs. DeVille? We’re ready.”
    She wobbled out to the front desk, once again as if she’d been propped directly on the opposite side of the door the entire time. I snuck a peek at Jameson and found he was smiling warmly at her, despite the sneer in her expression.
    “ Thank you, Mrs. DeVille,” he said cordially after his transaction was complete and stepped aside for me. I noted the warmth had returned to his eyes and his lips were curled up in a soft smile, both directed at me. His welcoming attitude had returned, thankfully.
    Mrs. DeVille, on the other hand, addressed me entirely different.
    Her gaze darted to my head and then she grimaced. “Nice hat. Sixty-three dollars.”
    I ignored her and counted the money in my hand. Then I heard Jameson’s voice whisper near my ear. “It is a nice hat.”
    Jameson was back to his flattery, something that, despite having just met, I actually enjoyed. My time to bask in it, however, was short lived.
    “ I was being facetious,” Mrs. DeVille muttered under her breath.
    “ Mrs. DeVille,” Jameson retorted firmly. “I’ve known you for several years and I have no doubt that flattery is only found by accident in your irony.”
    She blinked at him, having found herself twisted by his use of words. In the quiet pause that followed, I took a moment to respond.
    “ Thank you,” I said to him.
    “ You’re welcome.” He grinned back. “Ready?”
    “ Absolutely.” I slapped the cash on the counter and slid it toward her before turning, my head held high, and strolling out the door with Jameson directly behind me.
    Together we left the courtyard, sharing an exchange of expressions that meant we’d been slightly offended by Mrs. DeVille’s attitude but still managed to find the humor in it.
    “ Mr. Thibodeaux is next. He’s nicer,” Jameson said understatedly, bringing on another bout of laughter.
    That was when I realized that I was actually enjoying myself, something I couldn’t possibly have expected having just arrived in a new city without any truly solid acquaintances.
    As if reading my thoughts, Jameson asked, after a brief glance at my metal bracelet, “So, Jocelyn Weatherford, when did you arrive in New Orleans?”
    “ This morning,” I said expecting a reaction from him.
    I didn’t get one. He continued his slow stroll, nodding casually in thought.
    “ Well, I knew it was recent,” he admitted.
    “ Really? How?” Now I was more surprised than him.
    “ We would have crossed paths earlier.”
    “ It’s one of the largest port cities in the United States,” I chuckled. “How could you be so sure?”
    “ Oh…” He smiled to himself, harboring a joke he clearly wasn’t going to share with me. “I’m fairly certain of it.”
    I was just about to pester him to be included on his inside joke