Dream a Little Dream of Me Read online

  “This tour starts in fifteen minutes and I have Coke spilled all over me!” she said, not as loud this time.

  “I’m so sorry,” the stranger who had been just taken a seat not long before said. “It wasn’t me, I swear! I turned to see the guys speak. I hadn’t even ordered a drink yet. That’s not even mine!”

  They were interrupted by the woman who had been working the front desk earlier. Great, Chloe thought. We’re about to get kicked out of here and I’m going to miss this whole tour.

  “Good evening,” she said, “My name is Josey Jacobson, and I’m the manager here. Is there some way I can assist you this evening?

  “Josey? I’m Chloe!”

  “Hello, Chloe. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m sure your visits with Alcide and Ivy have been informative and that they’ve made you comfortable.”

  Chloe let out a frustrated sigh looking down at her shirt. “Well, I was comfortable until about five minutes ago. I don’t think I have time to change.” It was now ten minutes until the tour started, and they were checking people in. She mentally did the math—ten minutes was not a long time to run up to her room, change, and come back.

  “Why don’t you come with me, I think I have a solution for you.”

  “Okay,” Chloe said. “Just my luck I decided to wear white tonight.”

  Chloe followed Josey to the lobby desk, still wiping at the brown stain on her shirt.

  “Wait right here for a moment, I’ll be right back.” Josey disappeared into the office and came out with a black polo shirt with the hotel’s red logo on it. She held it out for Chloe.

  “You can bring the stained shirt to the front desk and they’ll see that housekeeping picks it up and returns it to you fresh and clean.”

  “Thank you.”

  Ms. Jacobsen smiled again. “Now, go hurry up and change and you should be able to make it just in time.”

  Chloe took a glance at her watch, her eyes widening. “Thanks again,” she said before scrambling off to the lobby bathroom.

  With one minute to go, Chloe skidded back into the lounge. She got in line and showed her mobile ticket on her cell phone.

  “Enjoy the tour tonight,” the man in the top hat said after checking her ticket.

  “Now, if you will follow us, we shall begin.”

  Chloe’s heart started beating faster as she tapped the ghost hunting app. She put it on silent so its noise wouldn’t distract the people on the tour.

  The tour guides began to speak and Chloe lost herself in their stories, all worries forgotten.

  Jared Peterson’s heart started pounding the moment he realized who had just been sitting beside him. It was Chloe Devereaux. He had been crazy about her in high school. She hadn’t changed much, she was still gorgeous in that girl next door, Jennifer Aniston way. She had been a cheerleader, prom queen, the high school celebrity. But kind. Chloe had always been sweet. Jared had been the geek, preferring Dungeons and Dragons over football and school dances. He had tutored her in calculus after school senior year and fallen head over heels in love with her. He knew he’d never had a chance with her, despite those feel good movies where the nerd gets the girl. In reality, that just didn’t happen. So, he’d kept it to himself. They’d graduated that spring. Jared had been valedictorian and left for college in Houston after that. She went to school locally, then had the extravaganza wedding to Chandler Montgomery, the social event of the year in Plano, Texas.

  What was she doing here alone? he thought. She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, he’d noted. When he had taken the job in Austin with the software company, he had lost touch with most of his high school friends. Then, going out on a limb and starting his own software firm had left him with little to no time for such things as socializing or social media.

  He sipped his drink and watched the tour guides collect money for the upcoming ghost tour. The same tour Chloe was going on.

  Why not? he thought. From what he’d heard, it sounded entertaining; plus, he’d get the opportunity to check out Chloe some more. The fact that she didn’t remember him was a bonus. He’d have to make it a point to apologize again at some point during the evening. He smiled. This business trip was definitely looking up already.

  He was lost in thought as he followed the small crowd through the Quarter, only halfway listening to the stories. When the guides announced they would be taking a break, Jared saw this as his chance. He found a seat at the bar and waited.

  After a quick restroom break, Chloe stepped up to the bar to order a cosmopolitan. A man scooted in next to her while she scrolled through the words her ghost app recorded throughout the tour. She frowned, the words made no sense—“they’re,” “chair,” and “football.” Was her ghost an armchair quarterback? A Saints fan?

  She reached into her pocket to pull out some cash as the bartender set the rosy-colored drink in front of her.

  “I’ve got that,” said the man beside her.

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said automatically, then looked up. “You!’

  He smiled at her. “Me. And buying you a drink for almost making you miss your tour is the least I can do.”

  She frowned and thought about turning him down. Then she looked into his eyes, very nice dark chocolate brown eyes, she thought, and chided herself. She was here to enjoy her freedom, not get tied down or tied up with some guy. She had just left Chandler and wanted to revel in the life she’d never really had. Chandler had never wanted her to have any kind of life outside of what he wanted anyway. It was always him, him, him. Well, now, it was Chloe, Chloe, Chloe. That didn’t include this Mr. Sexy Eyes.

  “How are you liking the tour so far?” he asked, and damnit if his voice didn’t match his eyes. It was rich and absolutely decadent. Like caramel on top of hot fudge, dripping down ice cream.

  “I love it,” she responded. Going on a ghost tour in New Orleans had always been on her bucket list. Just being here in the Crescent City was a wonder. She’d had a fascination for the town for so long. She watched all the shows on the Travel Channel, and any other documentary she could find. When Chandler didn’t come in and change the channel. He would only scoff and turn it to ESPN. Chloe would usually grab a book then, an Anne Rice, or a James Lee Burke, or a Heather Graham. She devoured anything set in or about New Orleans. She’d seen Interview with the Vampire so many times she knew it word for word after, “So you want me to tell you the story of my life.”

  It was Halloween season, and Voodoo Fest. She wasn’t that interested in the music festival. She wanted the New Orleans Experience. She wanted beignets, red beans and rice, and a Pat O’Brien’s Hurricane. In any order.

  “Are you staying there too or did you just come to take the tour?” she asked.

  “I’m staying there. I’m here on business, meeting with the owner to discuss a new website and updating their technology.”

  “Ms. Jacobsen? She’s so nice! She gave me this shirt to wear out tonight so I wouldn’t miss the tour.”

  He smiled again. “I saw that. Again, my apologies. It was not me who spilled that drink. A freak accident.”

  She looked into his eyes, and she believed him. He was no drunk at the bar spilling drinks or fumbling around trying to get her attention. There was something familiar about him. But what? She cut her eyes at him. “Do I know you?”

  “Ms. Chloe Deveraux,” he said, using the name she’d recently started using again, “Jared Peterson.”

  “Jared? From high school?” She looked him over. He was more muscular, more worldly somehow, and hot as Texas in July. This was not the thin, sweet little guy who had tutored her in calculus.

  “Yes, Jared, from high school,” he said, smiling and revealing perfect teeth and lips that should come with a warning label.

  She fought the butterflies that started fluttering in her stomach as she looked into his eyes. Those same sweet eyes he had given her years ago.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “In New Orle
ans?”

  “Yes.” He grinned again, flashing dimples, and her ovaries flip-flopped.

  “I’m actually looking for a place to live. I came down this weekend because I’ve loved New Orleans for forever and I got offered a job here, at the Chateau Rouge actually. I’m going to be doing PR. Wait, are you the tech guy they were talking about?”

  “That’s me. It looks like you and I will be working together.”

  “Well, isn’t that just interesting?” Chloe said.

  Sam, the tour guide, stepped forward and announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, if you could follow me, please, we will continue the tour.”

  Chloe looked at Jared, who simply shrugged—he was just along for the ride. They poured their drinks into to-go cups and rejoined the tour.

  After another hour, the tour guides stopped in front of a popular restaurant. “Our last stop is the restaurant Claire de Lune,” Sam said, gesturing to the building behind them, “It belonged to Selena Prosperie, and is now owned by one of her descendants of the same name, who has kept the building much as it had been back then. Rumor has it that back in the 1920s, it was a popular speakeasy. A special knock got you in to a secret back room and then it was party time. Men in three-piece suits and hats flirted with the newly uninhibited flappers, those women who cut their hair and wore their skirts too short and smoked cigarettes from long handled holders. They didn’t need a man, and the men flocked to them in droves. Attracted to their mystique, their joie de vivre.”

  He took a sip from his drink and continued, “In the dining room, guests have often heard the sounds of 1920s music while eating. Not the usual jazz piano played in the restaurant. Workers have often seen a woman sitting at the bar, in full 1920’s attire, long handled cigarette holder in hand, and even heard her laugh. The party has never ended for her. The restaurant still carries the drink The Bees Knees, which was said to be her favorite. As this is our last stop for the night, you are welcome to enjoy a beverage at the bar and listen to the fabulous jazz band playing. Feel free to take pictures, linger, ask us questions. If we’re lucky, Selena Prosperie herself will pay us a visit.”

  Chloe stepped up the bar and ordered a Bees Knees. She grabbed her phone and took pictures of everything, hoping she would catch an orb or a weird shadow. She’d check it all out when she woke up the next day.

  “Chloe,” Jared said as he walked up behind her, “it seems we’re going back to the same place this evening. Would you mind if I tagged along?”

  It was a long walk back to the hotel. Longer than Chloe expected. A lot longer than she would feel comfortable traveling alone. And here was Jared.

  “I would like that. Why don’t I get this last drink to go and we can make our way back to the hotel?”

  “That works for me. I need to meet with Mr. Santiago early in the morning anyway.”

  The bartender placed the drink in front of her. Jared placed his hand on top of hers as she reached for the tab. “Let me get that.”

  His warm hand on top of hers sent all kinds of tremors through her body. It had been too long since a man had touched her. Chandler had been content to treat her like one of his belongings. Something to look at and admire. He’d touched her, but it had never been in any kind or caring way.

  Jared’s hand on hers did all kinds of dangerous things to her nervous system.

  She nodded and lifted her hand off the ticket. And away from his hand.

  He pulled some cash out of his wallet and made quick work of the tab. He nodded, and Chloe followed him out of the restaurant and on to Bourbon Street.

  Chloe led the way back to the hotel. She could feel his presence the entire time. He was close, but not too close. Just close enough that she could smell his cologne and wish he would be closer.

  But why? She had just left Chandler. Not like they had been happy. Or maybe he had. But she hadn’t. It was no fun being someone’s Barbie doll. She wasn’t perfect. She wanted to live. She wanted to experience things.

  She couldn’t remember the last time Chandler had let her make a choice. From prom, to graduation, to the wedding, to what college they had attended, it had always been what he wanted.

  What did Chloe want?

  Exactly what she had right now. This opportunity to choose.

  As they walked into the lobby of the hotel, Chloe said, “Why don’t we have one more drink before we go back to our rooms?”

  “That’s fine with me,” Jared responded.

  They crossed the lobby and entered the hotel’s bar. Chloe was once again taken with the history of it all. It was so gorgeous, from the dark wood decorating the bar, to the old photographs from years past, to the antique piano in the corner.

  She avoided the corner with the perpetually full mug of beer that she had yet to see anyone take a sip from.

  Ivy greeted her immediately with a smile.

  “Hi, Ivy,” Chloe said.

  “Same as before?”

  “Yes.”

  “And for your friend?”

  Chloe looked at Jared, who said, “Jack and Coke.”

  “A man after my own heart,” Ivy said. “If I had one.”

  Chloe rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on now.”

  Ivy laughed. “One Jack and Coke and one cosmo.” She made quick work of both the drinks and placed them on the bar in front of them.

  “So, how was the tour?”

  “I loved it!” Chloe said. “I can’t wait to get back up to my room and check out my pictures. You were right! It was so full of history and stories.”

  “And you?” Ivy asked, turning to Jared with a raised brunette eyebrow. “How did you enjoy the tour?”

  He glanced at Chloe and smiled. “It was interesting, to say the least.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” A few more people came into the bar and Ivy went to wait on them.

  “So, how long are you staying here?” Chloe asked Jared.

  “I’m not sure. I’m a freelancer now, so I’m pretty mobile. I’ve always loved New Orleans, so who knows? I may relocate down here, given the right incentive.”

  “That’s cool. I’m so excited to be here.”

  A cool wind blew through the bar, and Chloe’s phone vibrated. She had forgotten to turn off the ghost app. She looked down to see the words “past,” “trouble,” and “love” flash in bright green letters.

  She chewed on her bottom lip and shivered. What did the words mean? She closed the app, thinking that she would just look at it tomorrow.

  She stifled a yawn; it had been a really long day. “I think I’m ready to head back to my room now,” she said to Jared.

  “Me too, it’s been a long day of traveling.”

  They paid their tabs and walked to the elevator. Jared was surprised when she hit the button for the fourth floor. “That’s my floor too.” he said.

  “Is that right? What a coincidence!”

  Jared resisted the urge to chew on his fingernail, a habit he’d given up after high school, but damnit if seeing Chloe after all this time was making him feel like a teenager all over again. He shoved his hand in his back pocket to take the temptation away. Now, the only temptation was Chloe. Single. Here. In New Orleans.

  The door swished open, and they both grabbed their room keys. As they walked through the corridor, Jared asked her, “What room number?”

  “I’m in 413,” she replied.

  “Looks like we’re neighbors—415 for me,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

  “Isn’t that something?” Chloe said.

  “We’re here,” Jared said as they reached their rooms.

  “Yes, we are.”

  He looked down into those green eyes of hers and mustered up all the nerve his teenage self never had. “Chloe? Would you like to have lunch with me tomorrow?”

  She grinned. “Yes, I would like that very much. Would you like to text me?”

  “Yes.”

  He grabbed his cell phone and added her number. “I’ll text you tomorrow and we can work out the deta
ils.”

  “It sounds like a plan, then. Good night, Jared.”

  “Good night, Chloe,” he said, and then did something his seventeen-year-old self had only imagined in his wildest dreams. He leaned in and touched his lips to hers.

  Ivy gave the bar a final wipe down. The room was empty and quiet, her least favorite time of the day. She turned the radio to her favorite rock station and poured herself another glass of “wine.” The owner, and her friend, Josey, sometimes came down for a final drink, but she would be tied up now. Archer had returned. How about that? The man returned after a hundred years and didn’t remember a thing.

  The mug on the corner rattled and Ivy refreshed it before taking a seat at the bar. She sipped from the goblet. A cool wind passed through the bar not caused by the air conditioning system.

  “I know you’re there,” she said finally.

  A dark-haired woman in a red dress reminiscent of a saloon girl materialized on the barstool next to her. Ivy smiled. “So, how are things going with the couple on the third floor?”

  “They’re going to be tough, Ivy. That woman is a stubborn one, and she’s been hurt bad enough that she’s not going to fall again easily.”

  “You’ve had bigger challenges. I think you can handle this.”

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  “The other couple looks fun. I think you confused her on the ghost app she has, though.”

  “Ghost app?”

  “Yeah, some new thing. It’s supposed to pick up words from spirits. When you blew through here, it went off, and she made a face.”

  Lucy frowned. “I didn’t mean to do that. I’ll have to see what I can do to fix it. Damn new technology.”

  “By the way, you need to make up with Tobias. He’s messing with the sound system again.”

  “I’m not making up with him anytime soon. It’s all his fault.”