LaCasse Family Series

by Ju Ephraime

  This did not solve the problem of how he came to be carrying the woman's coat and not his own. He went through the coat and saw that she had only the phone in the coat. His coat, on the other hand, had all his personal belongings; his keys, wallet with credit card, his phone, and, of course, his gum and some wipes. He had needed his coat only to get to the airport. Where he was going, he had no need for a coat. He'd have to wait until his plane landed in Martinique before he would try to find a way to get her coat back to her. What a quandary he’d found himself in now. He only hoped she would realize it was a genuine mistake and that he’d had no intention of stealing her coat. Or had he, subconsciously?

  Chapter One

  The heat of the island was no place for anyone who was partial to the cold, damp weather of Europe. Although it wasn’t so bad in Paris, which was where he’d spent the last five years attending university; he was an island man through and through.

  Raymond LaCasse loved Martinique, heat or rain. It didn’t matter. It was home, and it always would be. He loved the superstition of the old folks and the singsong accent of the native Créole, compared to the formal diction of the Parisian.

  He loved the lush, tropical vegetation, the sumptuous rainforests, the savannah and innumerable species of trees, fruits, plants, and flowers, and, of course, the mangroves. Martinique was an extraordinary garden with its sultry mid-day heat and its golden sunsets visible from all points of the island—it was like nowhere else on earth.

  He was proud of it. No matter how many times nature struck at it, and it had had its fair share of disasters, the island rose again and again, like a phoenix from the ashes. It was his island, his home, and his people. There had been LaCasses on the island as far back as the Napoleonic era, when Napoléon had married their native daughter, Josephine.

  The natives went about their business every day without asking for handouts. They were a proud people. The majority of the natives earned a living from the ocean or the soil. They were avid fishermen who spent their days from dawn to dusk on the ocean. Every day there was a fresh catch of seafood straight from the ocean: prawns, crabs, and fresh Bluefin Tuna, despite the fact that the waters around that part of the world were not for the faint of heart. Martiniquais were die-hard fishermen and would have it no other way. They carved out lives for themselves and their families by navigating the treacherous waters of the crossing, (the stretch of ocean between the Atlantic Ocean and the Caribbean Sea), every day, regardless of the weather. They made no apologies. They worked hard and played equally hard, drinking gallons of their local beer: Bière Lorraine. Most of them were native Créoles who could trace their family origin back centuries.

  They had big, noisy families and celebrated every chance they got. They were quick to anger and just as quick to make amends. His father was from that stock and his father before him. There had always been fishermen in the LaCasse family. Three of his uncles and four cousins were fishermen. His father had retired from fishing when he was still a boy and had gone into the restaurant business. Now he had retired from that, and Raymond’s two brothers, Wolfe and Foxx, managed the two restaurants their family owned on the island between them.

  He had traveled extensively while he was studying in Paris. Every school break he picked a different part of the world to visit because he knew when he was done with school, and had to return to Martinique, he wouldn’t be leaving in a hurry. So, he took full advantage of his time in Paris to learn as much as he could about the world beyond these shores.

  He was a big man, tall and broad-shouldered, with the signature heavy-roped muscles of the men of his family. The only male in his family who was not bulky was his brother Foxx. In the set of twins, Wolfe was the first born, and Foxx had always been the smaller of the two. Wolfe had inherited the bulk. Not that Foxx wasn’t as muscular as the other males in his family, it was just that his was a more lean physique.

  Raymond wore his dark hair in a close cut, which drew attention to the strong lines of his jaw. He was a slave to the shaver. It seemed as fast as he shaved, the facial hair grew back faster. His eyes were the most remarkable thing about him. They were steel-gray in color. No one in his family had eyes that color, although they all had unique eye colors. They had long since attributed it to the mixed bloodline his family came from, which, in a sense, was typical for most of the Créoles from Martinique.

  He was not a man anyone crossed. He was as Créole as they came. He had been told repeatedly that he was much more like his older brother Wolfe than Wolfe’s own twin was. Wolfe was slow to anger, but he could get into a rage that was an experience to behold. Raymond didn’t want to be like Wolfe, but he knew he had a temper. It flared up quickly and became explosive in a heartbeat, but he came down just as quickly. Thank God. His kind of rage could not be sustained for long periods. It would burn him up, and he’d probably go up in flames. Knowing this, he tried his best to avoid situations that were potentially volatile.

  *****

  He was excited about seeing his family, especially his brothers, his parents too, but he’d missed Wolfe the most. He’d always idolized Wolfe and very much wanted to talk with him about his plans to set up his own business. He knew he couldn’t work for anyone but himself, so he couldn’t kid himself and go looking for work. He had enough money saved up from his investments for him to open any business he wanted to.

  He had taken advantage of the opportunity and invested all his earnings in the company he’d worked for in Paris. The problem was he had two areas he was very keen on and couldn’t decide on one over the other. He knew talking with Wolfe would give him the direction he needed.

  Both his brothers were excellent businessmen, but Wolfe was by far the better of the two. He had a very analytical mind. He approached every decision like a chess game—there was always a strategy to his plan. Foxx, on the other hand, was an athlete and professional soccer player, and business was secondary to his game. Wolfe was his man, if he wanted some sound business advice. He also liked Wolfe’s no-nonsense approach to everything. He would let him know, in no uncertain terms, if his idea was une idée stupide.

  Chapter Two

  It was almost a nine-hour flight, direct from Charles de Gaulle International Airport to Fort-de-France, Martinique. He had spent most of the flight asleep. He’d long since given up trying to read or watch television during flight. For one thing, the movies were usually always old reruns, and as far as reading went, he would sooner sleep so he didn’t feel the inevitable turbulence that usually occurred once the plane got over the Atlantic Ocean.

  This flight, his routine was slightly different because he found himself in possession of a stranger’s property, and she had his. He wondered if she would notice she had taken his coat, and if she did, would she contact him? He was becoming excited at the thought of hearing from her again. She had made a powerful impression on him, and he wasn’t even looking for a relationship.

  He’d just ended his long-term relationship with his girl, Amelia. He’d met Ame during his second year at university. He had been hurrying to get to his 10:00 A.M. class, having been partying into the wee hours the night before, and he’d overslept. He’d felt like crap, and the last place he wanted to be was sitting in a boring history class, but this professor was tough. He gave no makeups and would fail you for missing any of his classes. Raymond couldn’t blame him. History was one of the most boring classes for most students unless he or she happened to be a history buff. It took everything from him to sit through the class.

  This was the class he was rushing to when he’d met Ame. It appeared she, too, had been late for her chemistry class. When they’d collided, the books she had been carrying had gone flying across the hallway. He’d stopped to help her, making him later than he already was for his class. They had become friends after that when he’d offered to help her with her homework assignment. After that, there was no turning back. They became friends with benefits. Nothing was discussed, so far as a relationship was concerned. From th
en on they did a lot of things together, but they weren’t exclusive. He liked it that way, and so, it appeared, did Ame.

  They had celebrated his graduation with no tears or regrets; she still had a couple of semesters left. He had spent the previous night with her, and they had parted amicably. He knew he’d miss her. She had been fun and a great companion, but she seemed to have a problem committing to an exclusive relationship. He didn’t blame her because he was just not ready yet either. He believed he would know when he met the woman of his dreams. Now, the woman who had shared the cab with him had made an impression on him. He still got a powerful feeling whenever he thought about her.

  He could still remember the effect she had on him when she’d looked at him with those wide copper eyes—more golden than copper. And her mouth, God, it had looked like sin. He couldn’t help wondering about her. Who was she? Was she married? Did she have a family? Taking out her phone, he looked again at the iPhone. It was the latest model, iPhone 5. He didn’t want to go through her phone. He felt it was an invasion of her privacy. It was a moot point because he’d have to wait until he landed in Martinique before he could use the phone anyway. He hoped he could get her to return his coat, sooner rather than later. The only reason his driver’s license and passport were not in his coat was because he had to have them available to show to the airline staff.

  He’d gone through the coat and had seen that all she had in the pocket was her phone. So, compared to his, she didn’t have much to lose, only a cell phone. Therefore, she would probably be in no hurry to return his property, if at all. He hated jumping to conclusions about people, so he would wait and give her the benefit of the doubt.

  But, in the meantime, all he could do was wait; he hated the inactivity. That was one of the reasons he hadn’t gone back home more frequently—he disliked the long flight and being confined in a small space. He supposed that could explain his preference for sleep during flight over any other activity. It helped the time go by faster.

  Closing his eyes, he settled back to sleep, and in no time, he was fast asleep and caught up in a dream that had him breathing hard.

  He was standing in front of his flat in Paris waiting for the taxi to take him to the airport. As the taxi pulled up, he didn’t wait for the driver to get out and open the door. He was already running late. Leaving his suitcase for the driver to put away, he stepped into the cab and was immediately greeted by the scent of wild orchid with a subtle undertone of female pheromones.

  He recognized the scent of wild orchid because it grew in profusion all over the island, but the musky scent was not familiar to him. He found himself breathing in deeply as she wrapped her arms around his neck and brought his body over hers. She didn’t have to exert pressure because he followed her where she led, his body no longer under his control. She was sprawled on the back seat, the warmth of her a welcoming haven to his overeager, lust-filled body.

  When she brought her lips to his, he looked into her eyes, and that was when the dream really got heated. He was reaching to remove her top when he felt a rocking movement and a voice in his ears.

  “Sir, sir, are you okay?” Forcing himself to clear his sex-fogged mind, he extricated his mouth from the kiss that was the best he’d ever had, and he felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking him. Cracking his eyes open, he found himself staring into the face of the flight attendant.

  “Are you okay, sir?”

  “Yes, I’m… Why do you ask?” he wanted to know.

  “You were making strange noises, as if you were in pain. Are you certain you are okay?” she asked again.

  “Yes, I’m fine. It was just a dream.”

  “That must have been one powerful dream,” she said, giving him a strange smile.

  “Yes, it sure was,” he answered.

  Chapter Three

  He was so embarrassed at whatever noise he’d been making that he avoided looking at the flight attendant and turned his gaze toward the window instead. They were flying over Martinique. He could recognize the topography of the island from the air, as he had flown over it many times.

  The island was surrounded on three sides by steep hills, covered with lush deep green plants, all sitting between the clear blue waters of the Atlantic Ocean, to the east, and the Caribbean Sea, to the west. This made the location of the island a portrait of paradise.

  He could not wait to get off this airplane. He felt as if everyone was looking at him strangely. When the plane landed at Fort-de-France, he was one of the first passengers through immigration. He didn’t have to wait like most of the other passengers because they were mostly tourists visiting the island. He went through the citizens’ line where there was very little delay and less paperwork and walked into the heat of the day with a sigh of relief.

  Ahhh, this felt good. He was about to pull out his cell phone to call Wolfe when he remembered he didn’t have his phone. He hoped Wolfe was already there, waiting for him; otherwise, he’d have to locate a phone to call him. What a situation.

  He took out the phone to see if he could locate some information on its owner. As he slid the screen to turn it on, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he was greeted by the familiar grins of both his brothers. It turned out Foxx had accompanied Wolfe to the airport. He was overjoyed, until he saw them standing there together. He hadn’t realized how much he missed his brothers. But he was looking forward to seeing Wolfe alone. He wanted to talk with him without Foxx being present. Foxx had a way of monopolizing any conversation with Wolfe without even trying.

  “Salut, mon frère, il est bon de t'avoir à la maison,” they both said.

  “It’s good to be home, bro's,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. For the moment, the dilemma with his cell phone was forgotten.

  “You, the successful investment banker, are happy to be home in little ol’ Martinique?” Foxx, the comedian of the family, said, a teasing note in his voice.

  Raymond turned a mock-steely glance in his brother’s direction. Soon they were all three laughing and patting each other on the back like carefree youngsters.

  “Well, we thought you’d be coming home with a beautiful mademoiselle in tow. Where is she?”

  “Yes, where is she?” Wolfe asked.

  “Enough, you guys, because both of you are leg-shackled, you can’t see a young single man without trying to tie him off? I fully intend to play the field now that you two old guys are out of the running.”

  “Don’t try messing around with the women here. They’ll have you leg-shackled, as you so eloquently put it, before you can say Jack Robinson,” Foxx told him.

  “For the record,” Raymond said, “I don’t want to mess around with those stuck-up females around here. I intend to get myself a foreign woman like the two of you. How about that?”

  “You wouldn’t. You know Maman wouldn’t be happy with three of her sons marrying foreigners. So stop it. We are counting on you to redeem us,” Foxx told him.

  “Will you shut-up? Speaking of Maman et Papa, how are they doing?”

  “Fine, you can ask her yourself. You know she’s planned a big welcoming fete for you.”

  “Shit ‒ just what I needed.”

  Wolfe gave him a questioning look, one that made Raymond uncomfortable.

  “The whole family will be there, so you might as well grin and bear it, mon frère.”

  “I was looking forward to spending some time with you and Daphne, Wolfe, before I went house hunting.”

  “You can still stay with Daph and me, but you will be spending some time with Maman before you get your own place. She's talked of nothing else. She and Papa are the only two in the big house, so she was looking forward to having you for a while.”

  “I’ve already said I’ll be spending some time there, but I don’t want to be called a maman’s boy. I need my own space and privacy. I’m twenty-eight now, in case you guys have forgotten. I’ll soon be hitting the big 3-0, and one thing I won’t do is live at home with my parents at thirty—not happeni
ng.”

  “Talking of which, the weirdest thing happened to me on my way to the airport. I shared a cab with this gorgeous woman, and somehow, she took my coat instead of hers. So she's now got my coat, and I've got hers, along with her cell phone.”

  “What do you mean?” Foxx asked. “Are you sure you didn’t somehow plan the whole thing?”

  “You give me too much credit, Foxx. I haven’t got such a conniving mind. That’s your area,” he said, with a grin.

  “So, how are you going to get yours back?” Wolfe wanted to know. “Have you tried calling her from the phone?”

  “Credit me with enough intelligence to think of that, but you see, I was already in the air when I realized my phone and coat were switched. Even my wallet was in the pocket.”

  “We’ll sort this out when we get home,” Wolfe said.

  Raymond didn’t answer him because he had no intention of waiting until they got home to find out if the woman had his phone and how he could go about getting his things back.

  While Wolfe drove and Foxx kept asking silly questions, he tried to get into the cell phone, only to find, as he’d suspected, that it was locked with a pass code. God, this is just my luck. Not wanting to alert his brothers to the situation and have them start back up on him again, he put the phone away.