It's Never Easy - Boudreaux Universe

“Don’t wear it again.” His voice is a mere whisper, feathering over my cheek as he moves back. I can’t help but shiver in the wake of his command, my cheeks heat and I wonder if they’re bright red because I can feel them burning.

Shock thrums through me, reminding me he’s not my friend, and he’s certainly not flirting with me. He’s an asshole, but I need this job, so all I offer is a quick nod before I turn and leave him with a quick, “Goodbye, Mr. Elliot.”

He nods. “See you tomorrow.” He doesn’t wait for me to say anything in response before he shuts the door in my face, and I’m left on the porch of my new boss. I got the job, but what have I gotten myself into?I can’t help enjoying the freedom from Julian’s grumpiness. Even if it’s for a short time. But even as I stroll by the interesting and colorful store windows, my mind is still locked on Mr. Elliot. I’m forcing myself not to call him Julian, because the moment he becomes too familiar, I’ll allow myself to be even more intrigued by him.

When I reach a small café, I step inside and inhale the scents of flavors that make my mouth water. I haven’t eaten yet, and my stomach is grumbling. When I walked away from the Elliot house, I grabbed a taxi all the way into the French Quarter. I needed to explore my new home and find my way around. It’s been easy enough, and with every corner I turned, I fell more and more in love with the French Quarter. I can see why my mother wanted to return.

“Hello, how can I help you?” One of the servers walks up to me while holding a menu card in her hands.

With a smile, I ask, “Can I sit anywhere? I need some good food.”

She grins. “Of course. Since the lunch rush hasn’t yet come through, you can choose a seat.” Glancing around, I note a small table in the corner, which I make a beeline for and settle in. She sets the menu down and tells me, “We have a special, French toast with avocado and bacon today. Other than that, the menu has all our options.”

“Thank you. Can I get a coffee in the meantime?”

With a nod, she leaves me to peruse the food items, each one sounding better than the last. By the time my drink arrives, I decide on the special of the day and sit back to sip the strong black coffee and stare out the window.

Tomorrow, I start my new job, and I know I have to impress the man who’s given me a chance. Even though he looks like he needs a lot more than just someone who can run his gallery.

From the disheveled appearance that greeted me at the door, I think he needs to realize that life moves on. I can’t believe he would be in that state because of his father’s passing. It’s been years, which begs the question, has he been in such deep depression for that long, or is it something else?

Even though I know I should stay out of it, my curiosity burns. I want to delve deeper and find out what makes him tick, and more so, what makes him act like a grumpy old man.

The moment the thought appears in my mind, I try to push it back, but it doesn’t relent. Did he lose a girlfriend or wife? Nothing that I found in the articles stated he was married. But he’s so private about his life; he could’ve had someone special, and nobody would’ve known.

I know what Phoebe would say. She’d convince me to find out all I can. And she’d most probably tell me I should be the one to bring him out of his funk. Rolling my eyes, I dig into my brunch and try to focus on the delicious flavors of the food instead of thinking about my new boss.

I need to remain professional.Chapter 5JulianHow is it that it’s been a whole day, and all that’s been on my mind is the strange girl with the black and purple hair? She’s nothing like the women I usually bring home, and she’s definitely far too young for me, but her pretty face has been emblazoned on my brain since I shut the door in it early this morning.

I shouldn’t have been rude, but my head was spinning, pounding painfully at the reminder of the bottle of bourbon I’d finished the night before. But even as I moved through my day, with every twist and turn, raven hair with wild purple strands and wide eyes captured me. And now I find myself in front of the easel that had eluded me for so long. I wanted to capture her, but not just her face. I craved to snag her essence and drench the canvas with it.