Isabella tossed around in her bed while she tried to ignore the pale sunlight that seemed to be trained on her face. She concentrated on the sound of two box fans humming with the strain of the humidity.

"I could probably wring my damn bedsheets out," she muttered.

While she stretched her limbs like a cat, Isabella smelled a distinct scent floating through the house—breakfast. The promise of a warm meal to fill her stomach was enough to coax her from her comfortable mattress. Isabella propped herself up and walked purposefully to the bathroom down the hall.

Before she sat on the toilet, she pulled her baggy T-shirt up to her breasts and dropped her panties to her ankles. The tile floor was cool against her bare feet as she tapped impatiently, wanting to get out of the bathroom and downstairs to the kitchen table.

Isabella practically skipped down the stairs to see what the table was loaded down with.

"Mama! I am so hungry," she said as she plopped down into a chair.

Her mother, Renée, smiled as she set down a dish brimming with milk gravy.

"Bella, honey. Go ahead and help yourself while I get Phil to come and sit down."

Isabella was nearly salivating as she began to heap pan fried potatoes onto her plate. Her mother had sliced enough smoked ham for a football team. Bella laughed to herself about her mother's excess while she smacked a pat of butter onto her grits. Right as she began to stuff her face with a buttermilk biscuit, Phil and her mom sat around the table.

"Good-morning-Phil..." she said, her voice muffled by the warm bread she was trying to swallow.

Phil winked at her and picked up the morning Times-Picayune to scan while Renée dramatically heaved a heavy-with-food plate in his direction.

After Isabella helped her mom clean up, she lazed around the house until the lovebirds went to work. She grudgingly placed one foot in front of the other while she lugged a sweating glass of water upstairs to her bedroom. Bella's bedroom was one of two rooms that opened up to the small balcony that their home afforded. She gently nudged the shutter doors open and sighed heartily before taking a gulp of icy water.

"Shit, there are a lot of people out today," she said as she looked down upon Melpomene Street.

"What day is it?"

Bella turned to walk into her bedroom and she set her glass down to rummage around in her bed sheets for her perpetually lost cell phone. When she flipped it open, the screen flashed a black date at her.

Fri Jun, 18 11:25 a.m.

Most people were probably headed to get in line for Friday Lunch. She thanked God that she didn't have to work an early shift at the restaurant today. It would definitely be busy that night, but Friday Lunch typically brought perverted businessmen into Maspero's, not really her preferred crowd. Thinking about the influx of people the night would bring, Bella did a "trust fall" onto her bed and stared at her mottled ceiling.

"Fuckin' Christ," Bella murmured as she locked her bicycle up and walked toward the restaurant. All of the doors were wide open and people were spilling out into Decatur Street. She side-stepped past most of the crowd and went through the back door. In the back room, she tossed her hair into a bun and pulled on a Cafe Maspero shirt. She eyed her reflection in the community mirror as she tugged her shirt down to meet the waistband of her shorts. Hesitantly, Bella tied her waist apron tightly, reveling in what would be her last seconds of freedom that night.

"Benoît! Have you been shucking oysters tonight, or what?" she said while she walked past the kitchen.

"Isabella, this crowd is crazy! C'est fou! We still got a long night ahead of us."

Bella tossed her head back theatrically.

"I'm getting that impression," she laughed.

She walked through the door to the main floor and the noise went from a muffled buzzing to a complete roar. At the bar, most of the regulars were drinking highballs and eating oysters raw on the half shell. Bella gave the tables a once-over and saw a party of four sit down. She grabbed menus and started making her way toward the table.

"Hello! Welcome to Cafe Maspero," she said as she handed a menu to each of the men.

"What can I get you all to drink?"

"I think we want your dollar daquiris tonight. What do you suggest?"

"Well... we make good hurricane daquiris. Lots of rum. Sound good? I'll go grab you all some and give you time to look at your menus," she flashed them a smile.

"Thanks, miss. We'll just be a minute," the man said as he blatantly stared at Bella's crotch.

She turned red and began walking toward the bar to fetch their drinks. While she was filling the little plastic cups, she saw the new band setting up onstage. Her boss, James, had mentioned that he found a good band to play on the weekends.

Bella's train of thought came to a screeching halt when she felt cold daquiri running down her hand. She looked around furtively to make sure that nobody saw her embarassing slip.

Once she handled her group's drinks and took their orders, she moved on to the next table. She and her friend Angela took turns with every other group in the back half of the restaurant.

After she doled out a couple of fried seafood platters, Bella sat down at the bar because of the lull in dining customers. Most people at that time of night came in to drink and listen to music.

"Mike, can I pretty please have a couple of cherries?" Bella smiled sweetly.

"Yeah, darlin'. Hold on, let me dig some out."

She watched Mike place three on a napkin and nudge them toward her. She loved it when the stem was still attached. The band started striking chords and tuning their guitars. Bella popped a fat, red cherry into her mouth and turned her attention to the stage. She automatically broke the skin of the fruit with her front teeth when she laid eyes on the man who was talking into the microphone.

It was like a slow-mo video as her eyes lingered on every part of him. Isabella started from the ground up, his bare feet and dark, worn out jeans that hugged his ass... and other places just right. He was wearing a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. For a second Bella imagined his hands parting her thighs... and then she saw his face.

God damn, he's beautiful. She started adjusting her shorts to make sure that any wetness hadn't seeped through and rolled her eyes at the way she was reacting to a boy... a fucking boy!

"Jesus, Joseph and Mary! Can you see that guy up there?" Angela never failed to notice a good looking man.

"Uhm, yeah. I wonder if he's any good." Bella felt her blood rush to her face as she fought back thoughts of running into him after her shift.

"Well, honey, if we're judging by the way he looks then he must be fucking AMAZING!" Angela winked at Bella and made a show of licking her upper lip obscenely. Both girls started giggling and looked at each other knowingly as the sexy stranger started singing.

"Damn..." Bella and Angela stared blankly as they listened to his surprisingly deep voice lilt with the old, bluesy song.

Can I take you out to dinner? Someplace where we can be alone. Tell you how much I love you, then let me hold you in my arms.

Bella's breath caught as she heard him singing the lyrics to Strange Love. You sure as hell CAN take me out to dinner! She was a little more than surprised when she realized she would rather have something other than a romantic dinner. When the harmonica kicked in and gave him a break, he ran his hands through his tousled hair and took a gulp of water.

Isabella stood up to avoid any more unnecessary arousal and looked pointedly at Angela.

"We haven't been working for a good little while, we should probably make a couple rounds."

Angela huffed and gazed longingly at the sexy man onstage. She rolled her eyes and grinned at Bella. Both girls grabbed some napkins and went to find something to do.

After a couple of hours of ass-grabbing frat boys in LSU T-shirts and lots of staring at her new favorite singer, Bella found herself counting tips in the back of Maspero's. She was glad to be going home for the night, but she hoped that the band would continue playing for a couple of weeks. Even if she just knew what his name was...

With a sigh, she hoisted her waist apron over the hook on the wall and stuffed her cash deep into her purse. Angela was already gone and James was trying to get stragglers out of the bar. I'll just have to walk myself out. Despite being dangerous at night, New Orleans was pretty well-lit along the main roads. She felt safe riding her bike home after work. Bella tucked her purse under her arm and walked out the back door.

She stuck close to the brick exterior of the building when she heard crunching footsteps behind her. Bella tried to force her eyes to see in the darkness of the alley, but she could only feel sweaty hands against her shoulders and smell stale beer as the figure breathed in and out inches from her face. She kept swallowing back the vomit that her fear had produced as she felt an unmistakably hard cock covered in denim rubbing against her hip. With all that she had, she pulled herself together enough to let out a panicked scream.