Fifteen year old Catrina Jeffries forgot her station for a moment and indulged in a few moments of fantasizing. She tapped her sneaker shod foot to the Isley Brother’s “Shout” and imagined she was one of the beautiful girls floating about the grounds of the Ramsey estate in a heart stopping dress of silk and chiffon.
One day, she promised herself. One day she’d be president of Jeffries Catering. By then, her parent’s business would have branched out to include conferences and banquets in addition to birthday parties and cotillions. She’d see to it. Then, she’d waltz into a gathering like this- a self made woman. Everyone would whisper that she was the smart, lovely president of the most successful catering company in the whole state.
“Catrina Marie! That tub ain’t gone empty itself!”
“’Kay Mama!” Catrina rolled her eyes. Just then, she’d have to accept her current post as fat dumper. She glared distastefully at the vat of fish grease she’d been sent to dispose of.
Casting off her images of grandeur, Catrina took a moment to gather stray tendrils that had fallen loose of her ponytail. She whipped the heavy tresses into a fresh knot and was checking the tightness of her rubber band when she turned to find herself staring at another fantasy.
She studied the boy who studied her. Tall; with deep set eyes dark as night, he was a thing to be swooned over. Catrina found herself celebrating her luck at viewing such a beautiful thing. At the same time she cursed her luck for viewing such a beautiful thing while he viewed her with splatters of fish and chicken fat on her faded pedal pushers and the light blue T-shirt graced with the name JEFFERIES CATERERS in black velvet letters.
“Catrina Marie! Don’t make me come back there, girl! Get them vats emptied and get back up here!”
Lashes fluttering, Catrina willed her beloved mother be stricken with a momentary bout of laryngitis.
“Comin’ Mama!” She started to turn when she heard him ask if she needed help.
“Thank you, but no.” Catrina celebrated the fact that her voice hadn’t deserted her.
Damon Ramsey nodded and silently ordered himself to stop gawking at the beauty that’d rendered him immobile.
R
~CHAPTER TWO~
“Girl if you don’t get in there! After all the money I spent getting’ that hair tamed.”
Daphne Monfrey glared at the big house beyond the passenger window of the Chevy. “Do I have to go all the way inside, Mama?” She whined.
“Dammit girl,” Babydoll Monfrey turned her provocative, full-figured frame on the car seat and pointed a finger at her daughter. “Get on in there. I’ll be back for you in an hour or two.”
Daphne turned on the seat as well. “Why can’t you come with me?”
“You know why.” It was Babydoll’s turn to glare at the big house in the distance. “Marcella have a fit if she see me steppin’ up on her property.”
“But I don’t know anybody here.”
“You work it right, you will.”
“Ma-”
“Now girl, don’t fuss with me. I gotta job.” Babydoll studied her flawless looks through the car’s side mirror. “It’ll take ‘bout an hour and a half, then I’ll be back. You just tell any boys who come sniffin’ ‘round who your Mama is and see what happens.” She slanted her daughter a wink and then waved her out of the car.
Daphne watched her mother speed off with a cloud of dust blanketing the battered white Chevy. She didn’t need further clarification on the woman’s last bit of advice.
At fourteen, she’d already received quite an education on what being Babydoll Monfrey’s daughter meant. As the local madam, Babydoll had earned an image not only for herself but for her daughter as well.
Daphne pressed her lips together and resignedly headed towards the music and laughter. How quickly three years could fly by, she thought. At the tender age of eleven she’d discovered exactly what her mother did for a living. The discovery both sickened and excited her. Of course, the excitement wore off long before the sickness. The sickness was still there- festering like an ulcer in her stomach.
The sickness had no chance of abating either once Daphne realized that her own reputation entwined with her mother’s. Boys flocked her way now having been schooled by fathers, uncles and older brothers on the delights waiting between Babydoll Monfrey’s sheets. They now expected the same treats from her daughter.
It didn’t help a bit that Daphne stood out as she did. No playing the role of wallflower for her. She’d once celebrated her almost white skin and curly blondish brown ringlets. She loved looking different and how being half-white made her a girl’s envy and a boy’s dream.
Though it wasn’t long before her pride dulled, when she understood why the boys dreamed of her. It didn’t take long for that pride to dull into shame when she realized one of her mother’s white johns had left more than a tip on the nightstand when he slinked from Babydoll’s one evening.
Breathing deeply, Daphne discovered her memories had outlasted the trip to the Ramsey gate. She hoped to take a quick walk through the sea of guests and find a quiet hole to hide in until her mother’s return.
***
“What’s she doin’ here Joe?”
“I can’t rule over what the woman does, Harry.”
“Ha! You was rulin’ over it quite nice when you had her in my bed!”
“Dammit Harry-” Joe Cade pulled his wife aside and bore down on her with rage filling his brown eyes. “Don’t you do this here.”
“Don’t I do this here?! You son of a bitch. You got your slut here at the Ramsey’s and you’re tellin’ me not to do this here?” Harriet Cade spared a moment to cast a pointed look towards a nosy onlooker before glaring back up at her husband.
Felix Cade’s intense stare caught on a wince as the argument between his folks gained steam. Conversation, laughter and even the sounds of James Brown’s “That Dood It” was no match for their raised voices. It was to be expected of course. His parents had been at each other’s throats for as long as he’d understood what the phrase meant.
Still, he would have been far happier had the older Cades managed to keep things friendly for the Ramsey event. He managed a smirk while tugging at the cuff of his cream shirt. The last thing he needed was for Georgia to start ranting because his parents couldn’t act like decent black folk instead of ignorant niggas when they were on her parent’s property.
Thoughts of his outspoken girlfriend mellowed only to make room for a new wave of agitation. Jasper Stone was headed his way.
“Where’s your Ma at?” Felix asked once he’d shaken hands with his half brother.
“Did she say something?” Jasper was at once on alert. Belleina Stone had never made a secret of how much she wanted Joe Cade to leave his wife.
“Nah, nah she hasn’t,” Felix winced again. “But my Mama knows she’s here, so just keep an eye out, alright? Make sure they don’t get too close.”
Jasper was already nodding.
“So where’re you comin’ from?” Felix smiled then and studied his brother more closely.
“Lookin’ for Rosselle.”
Felix’s heavy brows rose. “Watch out for that one, man.”
“What’s that mean?” Jasper’s tone was mildly defensive.
Felix only shrugged. “Just don’t get in over your head. Sorry man,” he patted Jasper’s shoulder hoping he hadn’t upset him with the statement. “It’s just that word is, Daniel and Martha Simon couldn’t unload their daughters if they offered a man a million dollars. I’m pretty sure
Rosselle is gettin’ worried ‘bout bein’ an old maid. Probably feels puttin’ out is a quicker path to the aisle.”
Jasper waved a hand. “It’s cool, man. Anyway, Carmen pretty much said the same thing.”
“’Lil Carm?” Felix grinned and folded arms across his broad chest. “What’s a lil thirteen year old know about shit like that?”
“Hmph, are you forgettin’ who her family is, bruh?”
Noddi
ng then, Felix’s expression sobered. “You still tight with Marc?”
“Yeah, why?”
Again, Felix clapped his brother’s back. “Add him to the list of folks you need to watch out for. Nigga scares me.”
There was no need to say Jasper was stunned. His expression spoke volumes. Curiously, he observed his brother who stood well over six and a half feet and who Jasper thought could be scared by no one.
“Just look out for yourself, alright?” Felix drew Jasper into a quick hug before they parted ways.
***
“You sure we can trust this fool?”
Near the brook that ran through the Ramsey property, Marcus was huddled in conversation with his long time friend Charlton Browning.
“Yeah, yeah he’s cool and down with makin’ a lil extra money.” Charlton said in reference to the night watchman at the local white high school. “When I hinted at what we had in mind and told him about the benefits- the man was ready to play a part.” Charlton shrugged. “’Specially when he found out a Ramsey was in the mix.”
“Shit Charlt! Why the hell you bringin’ my name into it?” Marc’s dark features grew fiercer in light of his temper.
“It’s cool, it’s cool.” Charlton waved his hands defensively. “Man said it had to be a prime operation if a Ramsey was involved.”
“What kind of dollars we expecting if we pull this off?” Arrogant pride had calmed Marc by then.
“My contacts say it depends on what chemicals we lift from the lab.” Charlton passed a list with prices attached.
Marcus let loose a whistle while scanning the list. “We bringin’ anybody in on this?”
“More hands on the job mean more hands expectin’ money.”
“Yeah,” Marc worked a hand across his square jaw and grimaced, “but this looks like it could turn into a heavy load easy and I’m out to score as much as possible here, you know?” His trademark wicked grin flashed. “Besides, nobody else has to know how much we’ll really get paid for this stuff, right?”
Grinning just as wickedly, Charlton nodded in agreement with the underhandness. “Who else you got in mind?”
“Jasper…Jeff maybe.”
Charlton’s grin vanished. “Jeff Carnes? I don’t know, man. Nigga’s too goody two shoes for me.”
“He’s loyal.” Marc didn’t spare Charlton a glance preferring to observe two passing female guests. “Anyway, loyalty’s what we need on this.”
Charlton didn’t like it, but eventually nodded to give consent. “We’ll need to meet again to discuss the when and other details.”
“I saw Jeff a little while ago, but no idea where that fool Jasper is.”
“Probably somewhere sniffin’ after Rosselle Simon,” Charlton saw the cunning look spread like butter across Marc’s face. “What?” He listened intently while being filled in on the stable romp with Jasper Stone’s supposed girlfriend.
“Be careful, man. Jasper’s one of them quiet niggas- never know when they gon’ snap.”
Marc’s shrug was the epitome of cool. “Just doin’ my duty, son. I consider it my responsibility to… test drive before my friends waste their time.”
“Thanks for the warning!” Charlton burst into laughter while shaking Marc’s hand.
***
Eighteen year old Houston Ramsey headed back toward the main house like a man with a purpose. Hands hidden in the pockets of his gray slacks, his mind raced as quickly as his feet. He’d put in three hours at that damn party. His parents should be beyond pleased, he thought. Especially when he preferred to be up in his room enjoying the dry cool of the indoors with his records and skin magazines.
Mama would have a fit if she knew he had the things under her roof, he smirked. Knowledge of that fact was more an aphrodisiac than any of the scandalous photos inside the magazine’s glossy pages.
Marcus would surely think him a fool for preferring to jerk off to some magazine, instead of helping himself to one of the many ripe lovelies there eager to spread her legs to a Ramsey. Houston knew his limits though and he wasn’t at his best with girls. They looked at him like they knew he was faking it- like they knew he was nowhere near the confident leader like West or the suave lover like Marc.
The thought forced him to quicken his steps as the promise of solace in his room filled him with exhilaration. His steps halted suddenly, however when a pair of dainty pink slippers appeared in the line of his downcast gaze.
Daphne Monfrey had raised her hands in anticipation of the contact which never came. Realizing that disaster had been averted, her breathless laughter twittered in the air around them.
“Sorry,” Houston muttered, momentarily taken aback by the angelic face looking up into his. He shielded his brown stare quickly then as Daphne continued to smile and giggle.
“’Scuse me,” he continued on towards the house.
Daphne’s laughter softened. Her gaze narrowed as it followed him.
Houston was almost home free- mere yards away from the back porch steps. It was then that he heard the sharp scream followed by an even sharper curse. Too curious not to investigate, his bland stare turned undoubtedly interested once it landed on a very frustrated, very lovely dark girl.
As if being led by some invisible string, Houston moved closer to where Catrina Jeffries sat on the edge of the wide brick steps leading up to the screened back porch area. She was rubbing her lower calf and wincing when he tentatively inquired whether she was okay.
Catrina looked up sharply but managed a smile in spite of her pain. “I’m fine, thanks. It’s my own fault for not being more careful dumping that fish grease.”
“Ouch,” a playful wince softened Houston’s dark caramel-toned face. “You’ve got a fun job.”
Catrina laughed.
Houston took a step closer. “Why exactly are you dumping fish grease?”
Catrina pointed at her T-shirt. “My family’s Jeffries Catering and I lucked out on this fine chore, thank you very much.”
Her fake haughty tone set Houston into laughter.
“So why are you so interested in my disgusting job?” Catrina asked after they’d talked a while longer. “You’re obviously a guest who could be enjoying this great party- unlike me.”
“I was invited.” The lie rolled so easily off his tongue. He honestly had no idea why he didn’t want her to know that his family was the reason for the event. “I’m about ready to hit the road, though.” He added.
Catrina shook her head. “Nothin’ more aggravating than a party you’re ready to leave.” She rolled her eyes when her mother’s voice rose from somewhere in the distance. “I’ve gotta go.” She moaned.
Houston made an awkward move to help her from the steps. He never quite touched her though and Catrina managed on her own.
“Nice meeting you.” He waved and watched her until she’d disappeared round the far end of the house.
***
“What’s wrong?” Briselle snuggled beneath Westin’s shirt but eyed him warily.
“I thought my dad was just talking- speculating before when he talked about relocating.” West spoke after several moments of hesitation. “He’s serious- wants me to head out to Washington State, establish new family roots in Seattle.”
Briselle only absently listened at first. She was far more interested in the way the muscles flexed in her boyfriend’s back. Gradually though, she took note of what he was saying.
“I’ll be leaving, Bri. I didn’t say anything before because… well, I wasn’t sure if…”
Her heart lurched.
“This is gonna happen.” He kept his back toward her but heard the rustling of the hay and knew she was slowly pushing herself up to sit. “I’d feel a lot better about the whole thing if you were there with me but if you’re gonna constantly put yourself down for whatever you think is wrong with you, then we can just call the whole thing off right now.” He turned his head slightly. Sunlight streaming through the beams of the barn loft outlined a slice of his
striking profile. “We can consider this our last time Bri.”
“West-” She stopped when he waved instructing her to return his shirt. He tossed over her dress and left her staring after him.
***
“Just take the cloths off those tables near the brook, Laney. Folks getting their feet wet and using my tablecloths for towels.”
“Marcella!”
Raising an index finger, Marcella turned toward the sound of her name and frowned at the sight of Corinetta Nicols and the young woman she dragged along behind her.
“That’s all Laney.” Marcella ushered off the maid with a soft smile and then gave her attention to her guest and the girl struggling next to her. “Corin?”
“Look who I found sashayin’ around with no invitation.”
“I didn’t do anything.” Daphne hissed, trying frantically to tug free of Corinetta’s grip.
“Yet.” The woman practically spit the word. “This is Daphne Monfrey- mother’s Babydoll Monfrey.” Corinetta’s brows raised in smug satisfaction when she dropped the tidbit.
Marcella’s alluring gray stare did filter with some curiosity. She studied the girl with deeper interest.
“Hmph.” Corinetta snorted.
“I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Just you being here is wrong,” Corinetta’s small brown eyes shot disapproving daggers from behind the gauzy white veil of her hat. “You think the Ramseys want associations with the town whore… or her daughter?”
“Corin…”
“Well tell her Marcella.”
Nodding once, Marcella managed a weary smile and leaned across to tug Daphne’s hand from Corinetta’s. “You’re right Corin, I don’t approve of anything unseemly going on in my own home.”
“You want me to throw her out?” Corinetta practically salivated over the possibility.
“I’ll take care of it.” Marcella drew Daphne closer. “I’d like to have a chat with our uninvited guest first. Thank you so much Corinetta.”
The woman looked very pleased, cast a foul look at Daphne and then bustled off.
“She’ll be talking about this for weeks.” Marcella muttered, knowing the incident would be all the talk by the end of the cotillion. “Settle down girl.” She told Daphne who’d tried to jerk from her grasp.
The Ramseys Boxed Set Page 157