Emma
From the moment I agreed to Rett’s demand, our steps were a whirlwind filled with clandestine maneuvers. After leaving the room where we dined, we entered dark hallways. Unsure of my footing, I was steered by the steady direction of a large hand in the small of my back. With a change in pressure, I turned as Rett led us along tunneled corridors until he opened a door that led to a waiting SUV. The driver remained silent, only opening the door and allowing Rett and I to slide over the soft leather seat.
Once we were all within the vehicle, I watched as the driver nodded in the rearview mirror to Rett. Then, he slipped the SUV in and out of stop-and-go traffic as we made our way from the French Quarter to the Central Business District.
Despite recently learning that I’d been born in this city, New Orleans was new—to me.