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“Uh huh.” Natalie beamed.
There weren’t a lot of things I could think of that might actually distract me from Erik, but the Crescent City might just be one of them. I loved the French Quarter with a passion, and Natalie knew it. “You’re serious?”
I looked back and forth between them. Both ladies seemed to be in.
“Operation Distraction,” Charlee said. “I’m in.”
“And obviously, I’m in,” Natalie said.
I raised my glass for an air toast. “Let’s do it.”
“Cheers,” both of my friends exclaimed.
“Laissez les bons temps rouler,” I said, in my best French accent.
“Boom.” Natalie sat down like the queen she was.
“Oh,” Charlee said to me. “Before I forget. Lucas’s friend Nate got that package we sent. He wanted to thank you for your note. Do you mind if I give him your number?”
Lucas’s friend and spotter, a fellow army sniper, had been injured serving overseas in Africa. My dad had been injured years ago in a similar way, so I asked Charlee to include a little note in the care package. “Sure,” I said, already thinking of beignets.
When one door opens, another closes.
Erik was the first door, and it seemed a weekend in NOLA with my best girls was the second one. It wouldn’t make me forget about him. And would be a long two weeks in the meantime. But at least I had something to think about. To look forward to.
“To New Orleans,” I said in a second toast.
“To Operation Distraction,” Natalie said.
Charlee added, “Hear, hear.”
CHAPTER TWO
nate
BLACKOUT BASE, AFRICA
I’d just come back inside the wire after four days of recognizance and couldn’t decide if I wanted chow or a shower first. In the end, my stomach won. After eating chicken—always chicken—I headed to the shower, accustomed at this point to the not-so-favorable conditions, including insects everywhere, in the bathhouse.
Normally I’d be hitting the MWR tent for a card game right about now, but no rec center for me tonight. The only thing I’d be doing was racking out in my bunk, exhausted. I broke my own rule about bringing my phone into the bed and lay down. Christmas lights strung above me across the bare, wooden walls afforded some light, but my phone provided the rest.
Clicking it on, I wasn’t surprised at the deluge of texts after four days.
First, my mother. Assuring her I was fine, I messaged my sister next. Then checked the degenerate gambling group I was a part of and, seeing over two hundred messages, I skipped to the last few and read those but didn’t bother responding.
Next in line, Lucas. I sent off a quick message to him and scrolled down to an unknown number.
Hi, this is Zoe Harrison. Charlee said you wanted my number to say thank you for the note so I figured I’d reach out myself.
Ahh, note girl.
The only thing I knew about Zoe was she was a friend of Charlee’s, and her dad was career military who was wounded during a firefight in Afghanistan.
Hi, Zoe. Thanks for your note!
I was about to move down to answer the next message when text bubbles appeared.
My pleasure!
