For the Love of You (4 page)

“Hmm, I can imagine. It's always the little guy that gets hit the hardest when change comes.”

“Unfortunate and true.”

Craig stole a look and caught the pensive expression that drew her tapered brows together. “Anyone you know?” he gently asked.

Jewel considered the question for a moment. She nodded. “Phyllis Heywood. She owned a small boutique with a lot of handmade jewelry and accessories. The rent got so high she couldn't keep place. Then there's the bookstore and the diner that were around since I was a girl.” She paused. “They've all been replaced with high-end shops and a real estate office. And those are the ones that I know about.”

“Ouch.”

“Exactly. And of course there are the businesses that never recovered after Katrina. A lot of people are still living in trailers and are out of work.”

Craig nodded. “I know it won't solve all the problems that are going on down here, but this film will definitely bring business and jobs to the community.”

“But for how long?”

He wasn't ready to reveal his entire plan. There was no guarantee that it would all pan out. “Let's say we'll take it one day at a time.” He reached over and covered her hand with his. An electric charge shot between them.

Jewel's eyes seemed to brighten, and Craig heard her short intake of breath that matched his own. If he was going to get through this business lunch in one piece and not find some hidden corner to ravish her in, he was going to have to keep his hands to himself. He returned both hands to the wheel and concentrated on the winding road.

* * *

Once they were in the center of town, Craig suggested that he find a place to park and they walk around until they settled on a place to eat.

They strolled along the streets of downtown New Orleans and shared comments on the many changes that had engulfed the area. Intermittently their arms or fingertips brushed as they sidestepped other walkers and pretended the subtle touches didn't happen. Instinctively, Craig's hand found its way to the center of her lower back as he guided her along the narrow streets. The heat from her body sizzled on his fingertips, and it took all of his concentration to stay on task and not focus on what her skin would feel like next to his.
Talk, don't think
, he reminded himself.
Talk.

“I know it's been a while since I've been here, but I got to admit, it feels totally different. Nothing like I remembered,” he said. “I mean, it kind of looks the same, but the vibe is off.”

“I know what you mean. I feel the same way. The only difference is that I've been here to see it happen.”

“Hmm.” He lifted his chin in the direction of a small bistro up ahead with a sandwich board out front announcing its menu. “Let's check this place out.”

They walked up to the sandwich board, scanned the menu, looked at each other and grinned in agreement. Craig held the door open for her, and they stepped inside.

The interior of Appetite Noir took one back to the early days of good old down-home New Orleans eating. The heavy wood beams, picnic-style tables, stained wood floors, zydeco and blues in the background, and the aromas of barbecue and crayfish made a tantalizing combination.

“Table for two?” a young hostess asked.

“Yes, please,” Craig responded.

The waitress grabbed two menus and instructed them to follow her. Craig took the opportunity to drop his hand to the small of Jewel's back once again, and the gesture was still as thrilling.

The waitress stopped in front of a small booth-type seating arrangement and placed the menus on table. “Your server will be right with you. Enjoy.”

* * *

“I didn't even know this place was here,” Jewel said as she took a slow look around. She set her purse on the space next to her and lifted her menu. Sitting opposite Craig Lawson would take work on her part. She would have to pretend that his eyes didn't affect her, that they didn't have the power to strip her of her facade. She would have to avoid watching his lips move when he spoke so that she wouldn't fantasize about how they would feel, what he would taste like.

She stared at the menu. The words swirled around in front of her. This was why she should have said no. Stirring up the dead embers of her soul could serve no purpose other than to lead her down a road of momentary fantasy. To even imagine that there could be something between them was silly, childish. Craig Lawson was a man of the world. A womanizing man of the world based on what she'd read on the internet. He was a man that cast his lot into a world of make-believe. He'd left his home, his family, his roots to run after a dream. And there didn't seem to be anyone or anything that had slowed him in that pursuit. But what would it be like to become part of the fantasy—even for a little while?

“Know what you want?”

Jewel blinked. Her gaze landed on his face, and she was certain he could read the salacious thoughts she'd had about him. She swallowed. “Um, no. Everything looks good.”

Craig chuckled. “That is true. But I can't remember when I last had some Nawlins crayfish. I want a bucketful.”

Jewel laughed. “Me, too, now that I think about it.”

Craig slapped his palms on the table and leaned forward. “You gotta be kidding me. You're right here in the mix.”

He tipped his head back in disbelief, and Jewel stole a quick look at the tight cords of his neck. She ran her tongue across her lips. “Guilty,” she murmured.

Craig's gaze settled on her face. “We 'bout to change that right now, darlin'.” His right brow rose to punctuate his declaration just as their waitress approached.

They placed their order for two buckets of crayfish, seasoned fries, coleslaw and a pitcher of beer.

“I'm going to regret this in the morning,” Jewel said when the humongous order arrived and was placed in front of them.

“Live for the moment, darlin'. Sometimes we just have to give in to our fantasies.”

Jewel's belly clenched. It was as if he'd read her mind or channeled her thoughts. She cleared her throat. “Maybe you're right.”

For the next few minutes, the only conversation between them was groans of delight.

“Damn, I missed this,” Craig finally said. He wiped his fingers and mouth with the linen napkin and then took a long swallow of beer. The bucket was still half-full.

Jewel wiped her fingers and mouth as well and pushed out a breath. “Whew.” She giggled. “I haven't thrown down like that for a while.” She put her napkin aside. “So, Mr. Lawson, I hope you don't think that I've forgotten our agreement.” She reached for her mug of beer.

“Agreement? The film?”

She pursed her lips in feigned annoyance. “You know perfectly well that's not what I mean.”

He tried to look sheepish. “Okay, fine. What do you want to know?”

“If you missed this all so much,” she said with an encompassing wave of her hands, “then why did you stay away for so long?”

* * *

Craig linked his long fingers together, rocked his jaw and took a sobering breath. “I'm sure you've heard about my family—the famous and the infamous.” He chuckled.

“A little—more about your uncle the senator.”

Craig nodded. “Well, there is a whole host of us Lawsons. And from birth expectation is high—unreachable for some of us. We had to live up to the long legacy of the name as well as what was deemed to be our role in the ongoing saga of our lives.”

“And you clearly decided that you weren't going to toe the family line.”

He snorted a laugh. “Something like that. It didn't go over well.”

“What was it that you didn't want to do?”

Craig paused, trying to frame the story in his head. “My father, Jake Lawson, is the youngest of the three brothers. My uncle Paul is the eldest, and my uncle Branford the senator. My grandfather Clive runs the family—his sons—like a well-oiled machine. He set down the template for success, and none of his sons ever deviated from it. Gramps's grandparents were slaves. His parents grew up on a plantation.” He gaze rose from studying his fingers to land on her face. “Very much like your home.” He took another swallow of his beer. “My template was to follow in my father's footsteps. Jake Lawson is probably—at least the last time I checked—the most influential land developer in the country. If it's being bought, sold or imagined, my father more than likely has a hand in it.”

“And he wanted you to join the family business.”

Craig nodded in agreement. “It wasn't for me.”

“Why wouldn't your father want his son to pursue his own destiny?”

His jaw clenched. He glanced away. “He has his reasons,” he said, his voice low and gravelly.

Jewel watched the array of emotions flit across Craig's countenance. There was clearly more there than he was telling. But it wasn't her place to pull it out of him. Everyone was entitled to their secrets, her included.

“You have sisters and brothers?” she asked, attempting to lift him out of the pit that he'd lowered himself into.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, my brother, Myles, and my sister, Alyse.”

“Do they live here?”

“Yeah.”

“They must miss you,” she said softly. As an only child, she'd never known what it felt like to have a sibling to share a life with, memories, joys and sorrows.

Craig finished off his beer, peeled the shell off a crayfish and popped it in his mouth. He chewed slowly. “You have sisters and brothers?” he asked, changing the subject.

“No. Just me.”

They studied each other for a moment.

“What did your parents want for you?”

Her expression softened. “They wanted me to be happy. My happiness took the form of art, and my dad was behind me a thousand percent.”

“What about your mom?”

Her deep sigh was audible. “She died when I was six. Ovarian cancer.”

“Oh...man, I'm really sorry.”

“It's okay.” She swallowed. “My dad...he really stepped up. He was mom, dad and my best friend. He sacrificed a lot so that I could pursue my art. I'll never be able to repay him for all that he did for me.” She expelled a breath as a wave of sadness swept though her. She pushed it away. “So what do you do besides create make-believe and date all your leading ladies?”

Craig tossed his head back and let loose a hearty laugh that warmed Jewel all the way down to her toes. It was a feel-good laugh.

“Ah, Ms. Fontaine, you wound me,” he said in an exaggerated drawl. He pressed his hand to his chest.

“Well, if it's on the internet, it must be true,” she teased.

“Yeah, right. And Kanye will win as president.”

“Touché.” But she really
did
want him to tell her about the women in his life. Did they matter? Did he remember their names? Would he remember hers?

He leaned back in his seat and angled his head to the side. “The tabloids, TMZ...always blow things out of proportion. They always think they have the inside story on what goes on in people's private lives.”

His voice had taken on a hard edge, Jewel realized.

“They don't. They have no clue and what they don't know they make up.” He refilled his beer mug from the pitcher.

“Is that what happened to you?” she asked softly.

His dark eyes flashed for a moment, and in that split second she caught the depth of hurt that swam beneath, and then just as quickly it was gone.

Craig shrugged. “It comes with the territory, darlin'.” A smile curved his mouth. He lifted his mug and took a short swallow of beer.

“Do you watch your own films?” Jewel asked with a warm smile. She knew that they needed to switch gears, lighten the mood and move away from the murky waters of the past.

Craig grinned. “Only the dailies.”

“Dailies?”

“Yeah. The cuts from each day of shooting.” He rested his arms on the table and launched into an animated discussion about the behind-the-scenes activities of filmmaking.

Jewel listened, fascinated as much by what she learned about the moviemaking process as what she did about Craig Lawson. He was a passionate man. A dedicated man, a man of conviction. He respected his crew and was loyal to his friends. Like her he was well traveled, and much to her amazement he spoke French and Spanish—just as she did. He told her about some of his many trips around the globe, the people that he'd met, the customs and cultures that he'd encountered. Like his uncle Branford, he was well versed in the political climate of the States as well as abroad. And nowhere in any of the scenarios that he presented was there a significant other in the picture.

“Can I get you two anything else?”

They both looked up at the server that they didn't recognize then took a look around the restaurant. The clientele had shifted from late lunch goers to dinner guests—they could tell by the briefcases resting beside polished shoes and the relief in the after-work laughter. They'd been talking for hours.

Craig grinned at Jewel. “Uh, I think we're done. Can I get the check, please?”

“Sure thing.” She slipped the leather carrier out of her apron pocket and placed it on the table.

The instant she turned away, Jewel and Craig burst into laughter. Jewel checked her watch. “We've been here for almost four hours!”

“Time flies when you're in good company,” he said as he gaze settled slowly and completely on her face.

Jewel felt the heat rise to her cheeks. Her stomach fluttered. “Yes, it does,” she said softly.

They strolled slowly back to Craig's vehicle, commenting on the shops and people that they passed along the way.

This felt good, Jewel realized. It had been so long that she'd been out with a man she'd forgotten how wonderful it felt to be looked after, admired, to be in the company of a handsome, sexy man that any woman would switch places with her to be with. But this was real life, not some story on the big screen. She knew in her gut that nothing much could happen between them. In another couple of months he'd be gone, on to his next project in some far-flung corner of the world.