Chapter Eight
It took him an age to make his way back to New Orleans. Most of it was on foot and supplemented by a bit of hitch-hiking. By the time he got back, he was dirty, exhausted and just plain old fed up with his job. He needed a drink and to quit… become a window cleaner, or anything. It had to be better than dragging his arse around America and dealing with this kind of hassle. But, in reality, he knew that was a lie. Who was he kidding? He loved it!
He was sitting in the Bourbon Bar across the street from his hotel when she found him. It was neither busy nor empty. The evening crowd hadn't quite filtered in and the afternoon crowd hadn't quite finished.
She sat on the barstool next to him and ordered a martini. He didn't even look sideways at her, simply took a sip of his bour
