She nodded her head. “The nice people come first, askin’ for an autograph. Then the more bold ones askin’ for a picture. And then the ones who believe I owe them somethin’ because they listened to Bodrie’s music, or mine. In the middle of all of that, will be the really ugly ones who want to give me lectures and tell me I’ve never had talent and I’m skatin’ on my daddy’s fame.” She shrugged again.

He let go of her chin, scowling. “If that really happens, why the hell are you runnin’ around without a damned bodyguard?”

Her long lashes fluttered for a moment, and then lifted. Her blue eyes laughed at him. “I thought I was runnin’ around with a bodyguard.”

“I’m bein’ serious.”

Thereze put two glasses of water in front of them and poured a cup of coffee for Remy as she lifted an eyebrow at Bijou in inquiry.

Bijou smiled at her as she nodded. “I’d forgotten how strong the coffee is in New Orleans,” she admitted. “The heat and the coffee.”

“And mosquitoes,” Thereze added.

Bijou nodded again in agreement. “The mosquitoes, although I’ve noticed they don’ bother me quite as much as other people. It’s rare for me to get even a single bite. Something to do with my blood, or my scent. Whatever it is, I’m happy about that.”

“Somethin’ else?” Thereze asked.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Remy waited until the waitress moved away. “Blue, why would you go around without a bodyguard if people do you that way?” He wasn’t about to let it drop. She couldn’t tease her way out of the question. He wanted an answer. She was as elusive as the wind, but not to him. Never to him. He refused to accept her evasions.

Bijou sighed. “I forgot how relentless you are when you want something.”

She was silent, absently stirring her coffee with a spoon. Remy waited. He had the patience of a leopard on the hunt and it had always stood him in good stead when interrogating a suspect. Bijou was like a wild, wary animal, not certain who to trust. He was going to be that man.

She finally looked up at him, her gaze once again moving over his face as if looking for something. “I’m coming home, Remy. I want a home and this is it, my last stand. I’ve been battling uphill for so long and I’m just plain tired. I’m not makin’ records or doin’ concerts anymore. I want to have a quiet, peaceful life. I need to sing, so that’s why I purchased the club, but I need a home. I’m done with travelin’.”

“You’re very successful as a singer.”