see ghosts,” Andy said, nodding sagely.
“I do not see ghosts.”
“You have an affinity for them.”
Nikki was growing uncomfortable. “No. I told you. It’s just a feeling of…history and the human condition, that’s all,” she said firmly. “Everyone gets it at some point, at some place.”
Andy reflected a moment. “Well, I do feel something in several of the cemeteries. And now and then in the cathedral, there’s a kind of…vibe.”
“Exactly,” Nikki agreed. She reached for the tray, but Andy was getting it, so she turned to head back to their table and nearly screamed.
The derelict had risen. He was in front of her, his mouth working, as he reached for her.
She couldn’t help but recoil, but even so his hands touched her shoulders. She thought he was going to collapse against her, but he straightened, his mouth still working as if he was trying to say something.
He needed money, she thought.
“Here,” she said quickly, reaching into her purse. She pulled out a bill and, pity replacing her feelings of revulsion, said, “Get yourself a real meal, please. No alcohol or drugs, please. Get food.”
She felt his touch again as she went quickly past him, Andy in her wake, hurrying with the tray.
The others were outside, but before they could reach the table, Andy said softly, “Nikki, that was really kind of you.”
“He’ll probably just drink it or shoot it up his arm,” Nikki said.
“No, maybe not. Actually, he didn’t look like a junkie.”
“Just a bum.”
“There but for the grace of God go I,” Andy murmured beneath her breath. Nikki turned to look at her, but Andy shook her head. She had been in trouble with drugs; she’d been dead honest with Nikki when the two had first met. She’d been clean for years, however. She seldom even drank now, unless it was a special night out, a celebration.
At the moment, however, she clearly didn’t want to say any more, not in front of the friends waiting for them: Nathan, Julian, Mitch and Patricia.
They all worked for the same tour company, and they were making a success of it, despite the competition in New Orleans. Maximilian Dupuis, the founder of the business, had taken Nikki on board first. Max had found her through the articles she’d been writing for one of the local tourist papers.
Max himself was really something. Tall, dark and bony, he resembled a vampire and could have haunted New Orleans just fine himself, though the cigars he loved to chomp on kind of ruined the impression. Nor was he really interested in ghostly occurrences himself.
Max was out to make a buck.
His brilliance was in putting together what the public wanted and in the art of delegating, he had told Nikki. He’d had the cash to start up the business, she’d had the ability and the knowledge. When he’d hired her, she’d suggested bringing in Julian, who’d been her best friend forever. As they’d prospered, they’d added the rest.
Nikki was Max’s number two. She was responsible for hiring new guides, then for training them. It worked out well, since Max didn’t particularly like to stick around and run the business. Max liked his money and having other people work for him, so he could travel the globe. At the moment he was hiking in Colorado.
“That took long enough,” Patricia said as they approached the table.
“Nikki was flirting,” Andy teased.
“Oh?” Patricia Broussard had been born and bred in Cajun country, and, like Andy, she had long dark hair. Her eyes were equally dark, and her grin was entirely impish. “Nikki’s got a guy?”
“Very mysterious,” Andy said.
“I gave a bum a dollar,” Nikki said, shaking her head.
“She gave him a twenty,” Andy corrected.
“He looked like he needed it,” Nikki said quickly as Julian stared at her in surprise.
“Actually, he looked like he might be pretty handsome if you cleaned him up a bit,” Andy said.
“You gave a bum a twenty?” Mitch, their out-of-towner, a blonde from Pittsburgh, demanded. “Wow…you’re making a lot more in tips than I am.”
“She’s cuter,” Patricia told him.
“He just seemed really needy,” Nikki explained. “So let’s get past this moment, shall we?”
“No, I like this conversation. All work and no play, Nikki…” Nathan, who was living with Patricia, teased.
“Actually,” Patricia said, eyeing Julian and then Nikki, “most people think you two are a couple.”
“Ugh,” Julian said.
“Thanks,” Nikki told him.
“No, no, that wasn’t about you,” Julian protested quickly.
“I know,” Nikki assured him. She stared at Patricia. “It’s just that we’ve known each other forever. It’s like a brother/sister thing. Now can we get down to business?”
But Nathan grinned, leaning forward. “Nikki, forget business. We’ve got to get you set up with someone.”
She sighed deeply. “I do not want to be set up with anyone.”
“Her last excursion into amore didn’t go so well,” Julian said with a dramatic sigh. “But, then, I did tell her not to date the creep.”
“I’ve never seen you date,” Patricia told her.
“That’s because she hasn’t in nearly a year,” Julian informed them.
“What? Why, that’s…un-American,” Mitch protested.
Nikki groaned, clenching her teeth. “He wasn’t a creep. He just wanted to go off to Hollywood and get rich and famous.”
“And he wanted Nikki to come along and support him while he did,” Julian said dryly.
“We had different agendas,” Nikki said firmly. “I love this business and I love New Orleans. I like California, but I want to live here. He really wasn’t a jerk.”
“Not a total jerk,” Patricia interjected. “He was really good looking, and he could be really sweet.”
“Sweet?” Mitch queried politely.
“Flowers, opening doors…the little things. But in the big things, he wanted his own way.”
“See, I just don’t think that she felt that thing for him, you know? Good-looking guy, charming…but when it’s just not there, it’s just not there,”
