But Rayford wasn’t giving up so easily. He said, “And who gets an annual trust stipend in the gazillions every year before his father dies?”

“Gazillions aren’t units of currency.”

“I’m takin’ poetic license here, sir, cut me some slack.”

A sensible man would’ve withered under the stare I sent Rayford. Obviously he wasn’t sensible.

Being annoyingly reasonable, he said, “You don’t want to go back to Kentucky. You also don’t want to be dead-ass broke, because you’ve never had a job in your entire life, and you don’t know how to do anything except collect overpriced automobiles and mope around in your big ol’ mansion. You wouldn’t last an hour as a poor man. So your only other option is marriage. Ideally you’da had a girlfriend you could ask, but your antisocial self doesn’t have one of those, so we gotta be practical and determine who you could stand livin’ with for the next few years before you get divorced and go your separate ways, and everybody’s happy because everybody’s rich.”

He smiled at me. “And from where I’m sittin’, only one woman in the world fits that bill.”

I had to admit it. The man made some very good points.

Shit.

SIXTEEN

BIANCA

Four days had passed since the benefit, and though I kept hoping Jackson would walk through the front door of my restaurant, he never did.

Now I’m as liberated as the next girl, but one thing I will never, ever do is chase after a man. No matter how much of a fascinating puzzle he is. My mama always said the minute you make a move on a man is the minute you lose control, because then he knows he’s got you.

“A woman worth her salt should be the hardest thing a man has to work for in his life, because then she’s a prize, not a gift,” she’d told me. “Anything you get for free is worth exactly what you paid for it: nothing.”

I wasn’t looking for control in a relationship, but I knew she had a point because I’d thrown myself at Trace like I’d been shot from a cannon, and look where that got me.

So I put Jackson Boudreaux out of my mind and focused my energy into taking care of Mama, running the restaurant, and trying to think of ways to make more money.

Unfortunately I was coming up short on all three counts.

“Boo, what’s happenin’ with you?” said Eeny, hands propped on her hips. “I’ve never seen you lookin’ so raggedy!”

We were in the kitchen. It was a weeknight, and the restaurant was full. Mama was in her second round of chemo and was sick as a dog. I’d started spending the night at her place because I was afraid to leave her alone. When I’d looked into the cost of a home health-care worker to help out, I’d nearly fainted.

I should’ve gone into health care instead of the restaurant business.

“I’m fine, Eeny,” I said, rubbing my eyes. They were grainy and bloodshot from lack of sleep, and swollen from crying.

Watching someone you love being slowly poisoned to death is not much fun.

“Girl, you are not fine!” said Eeny, folding her arms over her chest. “I’ve known you since I was cookin’ in your mama’s restaurant and you were knee-high to a grasshopper, and never once have I seen you in such a state! I think you should tell me what’s goin’ on before I pay a visit to Miss Davina and get the truth!”

I stopped stirring the big pot of jambalaya on the stove in front of me and turned a tired eye to Eeny. She stood there glaring at me, searing my eyes with the canary-yellow caftan she was wearing, which had turquoise-blue stripes and a matching turban. All she needed was some fruit in it, and she’d look exactly like the Chiquita Banana lady.

“Where’s your apron?” I asked. “You’re blinding me with that getup.”

She said, “I’m not coverin’ up this beautiful frock I special ordered with one of those dingy ol’ kitchen aprons! And don’t change the subject!”

I loved that she was worried about me, but if I told her the truth, the news would spread around the city faster than the speed of light. Eeny was many wonderful things, but circumspect wasn’t one of them. She loved gossip as much as she loved loud frocks and fried plantains.

So I said, “I’m fighting a bug.”

That wasn’t exactly a lie. I was fighting a bug. The depression/insomnia/so-broke-I-can’t-afford-to-pay-attention bug.

Eeny narrowed her eyes at me. She opened her mouth, but before she could get anything out, Pepper ran through the kitchen doors.

“He’s here again!” she shouted gleefully. “It’s him!”

There was only one person in the world who could get Pepper so excited. I wondered how much Jackson had given her this time.

My heart beating faster, I said, “He’ll have to wait for a table, unless you can move some of those reservations around.”

Pepper, in a tight, shiny gold dress so short it looked like a skirt she’d hiked up over her boobs, jumped up and down, grinning like mad and clapping her hands.

“He doesn’t want a table! He wants to see you!”

Eeny muttered, “Get the poor man a pair of sunglasses and a stiff drink.”

Over on the other side of the kitchen, Hoyt started to whistle the theme to Jaws.

I said, “Pepper, please tell him I’ll be out in a min—”

Jackson burst through the kitchen doors. He spotted me standing frozen at the stove and said loudly, “Everyone out.”

The entire kitchen staff turned to look at me.

Oh Lord. Not this again.

Smoothing my hands over the flyaways from my bun, I said, “Jackson, we’re so busy right now. I’m sorry, but I can’t have my employees—”

“We’re getting married,” he pronounced, and stared at me.

Pepper gasped. Eeny did a comical double take. Hoyt started coughing and couldn’t stop. Everyone else stood stock-still, their eyes wide and their mouths hanging open.

Most of me was convinced he was joking. It was in terrible taste, but that was really the only option that made any kind of sense.

There was a tiny part of me, however, that noted the determined look in his eyes and wasn’t so sure.

“How nice for us,” I said sarcastically. “And when will the blessed event take place?”

When he looked relieved, I started to panic.

He said, “As soon as possible. Tonight, if you want. We can go to the courthouse right now.”

Pepper squealed in glee. No one else made a peep, except for Eeny, who threw her head back and started to laugh.

That’s when my panic turned to anger.

I marched over to Jackson, grabbed hold of the front of his shirt, and dragged him out of the kitchen and into the alley behind the restaurant, kicking the back door open in front of me. When the door slammed shut behind us, I whirled on him and let him have it.

“What the Sam hell is the matter with you? This is my place of business! Some of us have to work for a living! You can’t just barge in here and start telling stupid jokes—”

“It’s not a joke,” he interrupted, his voice hard. “And if you marry me, you’ll never have to work again.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “You’ve lost it. You’ve seriously lost your mind.”

“Just hear me out—”

“No, I won’t hear you out! I don’t know who you think you are, but I don’t find this funny! And I don’t have time to listen to whatever stupidity this is! I swear I oughta just call the loony bin and have them pick you up—”