I’ve done some snooping on Georgette Taylor, this version sitting across from me, the one that on one hand is so familiar, yet on the other hand, is a complete stranger. I needed to know some basic information, so I bribed CeCe into giving it to me. She asked Cami and then got back to me.
Pretty sure I already knew about Trevor, just not his name. Back when I flew to New York to find Jette and beg her to give us a chance, I think he was the guy I saw her with, the one who convinced me to let her go without even saying a word.
She was with him, it was obvious.
And she was happy.
That was enough for me, because it’s all I ever really wanted.
“I thought I would miss it and that it would take me a while to adjust to a new city,” she continues, her shoulders raising up as she inhales and then relaxing as she blows the breath out. “But I feel so at home here, like this city was just waiting for me.”
Her smile and laughter are contagious and I find myself, once again, not wanting to ruin it with the past, but I’m not the kid I used to be. The difference between eighteen and twenty-three is that I no longer shy away from heartache or hard topics. I’ve learned it’s better to man-up.
“How long are you planning on staying?”
That’s the first question I need answered.
Jette’s beautiful blue eyes go wide, but then she recovers, cocking her head and leaning back into her seat, taking her coffee with her. She seems relaxed as she answers, “As long as New Orleans will have me.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, pushing.
She sighs, placing her cup back on the table. “I don’t know, Finley.” Her tone sounds calm with a hint of annoyance. One thing Georgette has never liked is people pushing her. She despised her father for pushing her toward a career she didn’t want. She despised her mother for pushing her to be someone she wasn’t. I think, at one point, she even despised me for pushing her to choose me.
“I’m here for however long Cami wants me here,” she continues. “For however long I’m a good fit for the gallery. Hopefully, that’s for a long time. But if Cami comes back from her maternity leave and feels like she no longer needs me, then I guess I’ll move on to something else.”
“Back to New York?”
She shrugs, noncommittally. “Perhaps.”
Perhaps?
What the fuck kind of answer is that?
“Yes or no,” I push, knowing I’m treading on thin ice.
Jette huffs, her blue eyes boring into me. “I’d go wherever I could find a job,” she says, but then swallows and adds, “but I’d love to stay here, if that’s what you’re asking.”
We sit in silence for a moment, with years of unspoken words floating around us.
“I don’t even know why we’re discussing the demise of my current employment status,” she finally says, breaking through the tension. “I just got here and you’re already trying to get rid of me.”
I smirk, brushing my thumb across my bottom lip. “No, I just got you back and I’m wondering for how long.”
Her expression softens and she reaches across the table, placing her hand on mine. “I missed you, you know. I missed this… us.”
“Why did you leave?” I ask, the question tumbling out before I have a chance to filter my thoughts.
“Why did you not answer my calls?” she counters.
I recognize the hurt on her face. It looks a lot like how I feel.
“My phone got stolen from the coffee shop the day after you left,” I tell her. “I went to your house to ask your mom to give you my new number, but she wouldn’t even open the door. Shep tried to get it to you, but you never came home. I tried to call your old number, but—”
“I got a new phone when I got to New York,” she says, cutting me off.
She bites down on her bottom lip as she turns her attention to the window, her blue eyes shining with emotion.
“I tried to write to you,” I admit. “But I didn’t know what dorm you were in, so the letters were returned.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her about me going there, but I’m not ready for that. It feels like too much of a confession, too big of a gesture for friends.
She sighs, finally looking at me again. “I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye. I just… I knew if I saw you, it would only make it harder. I didn’t know we’d go nearly five years without talking.” The laugh that escapes her is sad. “When I came home, the few times I came home, I went to the coffee shop you always used to play at but you were never there. I decided it was best to…”
“Leave us in the past?” I ask.
There’s so much sadness in her expression as she nods. I hate it. I’ve never liked seeing her sad, always wanting to do anything to make her happy. That’s when I decide this is enough. For today, this is enough.
“Let’s do that,” I suggest.
“Do what?” Her brows pull together in confusion.
Flipping my palm over, I invite her to place her hand in mine. “Leave it in the past. Start fresh here in our new city.”
When her shoulders fall in defeat, I realize she’s misunderstood what I’m suggesting, I quickly amend, “as friends.”
“Friends,” she repeats.
I can’t interpret the expression that crosses her face, but as quickly as it flashes across her features, it’s gone, and in its place is a beautiful smile. I’ve always been able to tell when her smiles are the real deal, because it reaches her eyes and there’s a small dimple in the top of her right cheek.
There’s still more we need to discuss, but the rest can wait. We’ve covered enough of the past for one day. “We should go exploring,” I suggest, switching gears to give us both a reprieve. Plus, I want to spend more time with her, in whatever capacity I’m allowed. “I’ve been here for a while now, but I don’t get out much, except to play my gigs.”
“Ever been to Bourbon Street?” Georgette asks, her eyes lighting up with excitement.
I smile, happy to have the easiness back between us. “A few times.” When I first got here, I went out of sheer curiosity and then the guys from the club invited me out a few times after we’ve closed down. I tried playing on one of the corners down there but I felt like I was competing with the music filtering out of the bars. The corner on Royal is much more my speed and I love the atmosphere.
“I’m dying to go,” Jette admits.
“Really?” I ask, a little surprised. “Bourbon doesn’t seem like your scene.”
Her smile grows and it’s a new smile. Part of it is the same familiar one that’s played over and over in my dreams these past five years but it’s mixed with something new. A part of Jette I don’t know, the part she’s become since she left Dallas and grew her wings.
I want to know this Jette too.
“Well, I’ll never know until I go,” she finally says and it speaks to my soul. It’s how I felt the day I left Dallas. I was so unsure of coming here and starting over in a new city, but after Maggie left and I was basically alone, I thought, fuck it, what do I have to lose?
And I’m so glad I did.
If I had stayed in Dallas, I would’ve completely missed this opportunity to get to know this Jette—my old friend, all grown up.