Champagne Nights || Shawmila [Completed]

three

New Orleans had a charm of its own. The buildings were colorful, adorned with wrought-iron railings, balconies filled with flowers and plants, and fluttering flags. The signs of the establishments hung beneath the arcades, and the wooden shutters contrasted with the peeling plaster of the houses with their equally vibrant colors. To Shawn's eyes, who had grown up in a modest neighborhood in the middle of nowhere, in a small and simple house, it felt like being in a distant land, in an overseas town governed by its own rules.

The paved streets had been washed by one of the many summer showers, releasing that peculiar fresh and earthy smell that emanates with raindrops. Step by step, with the sound of his shoe heels rhythmically accompanying his walk, Shawn was heading to George and Camila's house. The idea of crossing their threshold twisted his gut with a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He knew that by stepping through their front door, he would break that required distance between employer and employee: his father used to say that private life and work should never be mixed. But at the same time, he couldn't help but feel euphoric at the thought of being alone and undisturbed with Camila.

He had stopped lying to himself, admitting that he had been attracted to the young singer for quite some time. Who could resist her? The idea of spending an indefinite number of hours by her side, her full attention on him, in an environment devoid of noisy strangers, made his heart beat faster. Realistically, Shawn knew he had no chance with her. Not only was Camila a married woman, but her husband—the one who had Shawn on his payroll—would probably kill him if he found out about his burning desire for the woman.

When he knocked on the front gate, a tall wooden block adorned with carvings, he was greeted by the little brunette with deep eyes who led him inside. Given the neighborhood he was in, Shawn had imagined that George was doing quite well, but he certainly didn't expect to find a mansion. What from the outside had seemed like a simple facade of a building turned out to be only the enclosure wall. Behind it, surrounded by layers of brick covered in plants, a splendid inner garden emerged. The floors were made of stone, the flower beds displayed a myriad of colorful flowers, and the central fountain sprayed fresh water.

Camila walked decisively towards the inside of the house, completely unaware of her guest's astonished expression. They climbed a staircase with a handrail decorated with intricate floral motifs in wrought iron, crossed the terrace overlooking the garden, and finally arrived in one of the many rooms. Even that room turned out to be a hidden gem. The fabrics were rich and sumptuous: velvet, satin, silk... The colors were vibrant, yet they harmonized with each other. The floral prints, the linear patterns, the wooden elements—everything seemed perfectly combined. Shawn felt almost uncomfortable; he had never been in such an elegant place. Would he wrinkle the armchair on which he would sit? "Your house is amazing," he finally admitted, unable to think of anything else.

Camila's gaze darkened, although she tried to smile. "Thank you," she replied calmly. Shawn expected a bit more enthusiasm from the woman who always appeared so lively. He wondered what thought had troubled her.

However, his curiosity remained unchanged. Camila was his boss's wife, and they were nowhere near the level of familiarity required to ask such questions. So he simply nodded, placing some sheet music on the stand of the piano. Even that, like the rest of the furniture, was made of fine wood. He wondered what such a well-tuned instrument was doing in a house where no one knew how to play, but he figured it was probably just a trendy peace of forniture.

He sat on the stool and touched the ivory keys. The first notes reverberated in the air with their sweet and round sound. "Do you know how to read sheet music?" Camila shook her head. "Okay, no problem. It's not difficult to learn," he said, patting the empty seat next to him. "Five lines, four spaces, seven notes in total—excluding the black keys—but that will be a lesson for another time." Camila nodded beside him, a touch of determination in her gaze.