Queen of NOLA

by Kimmie Easley

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Queen of NOLA

  Jaded Series

  Book Three

  Kimmie Easley

  Wine Worthy Romance

  COPYRIGHT © 2018

  Queen of NOLA

  Kimmie Easley

  Published by: Wine Worthy Romance

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  This book contains material protected under the International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means either electronic or mechanical. Including but not limited to, photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  If you received this book from any vendor other than Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, iBooks, or Createspace, please go to one of the vendors listed and purchase the book legally.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Cover Designer: Cassy Roop

  Cover Models: Amanda Renee & Travis Keen

  Cover Photog: JW Photography

  DEDICATION

  To the Indie Community.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Baby Jade

  Oh, for fuck’s sake. Are my nipples hard or something?

  I dart my hard gaze from one expectant face to another. Most, I’ve never seen before, but the few I do recognize leave me queasy.

  Stick to the script.

  “Like I said, sorry for running late. You’ll have to excuse me. I’ve had a lot of catching up to do.” I run my trembling palms over the foreign fabric. Somehow, I wiggled my bubble ass into a fancy pant suit, complete with black tuxedo trousers, a crisp, white button-down, and paired with a matching, cropped, crepe jacket.

  Whatever the fuck all that means.

  The sales lady droned on and on about the label and designer. Shit, I’m lucky if I remember to wear underwear these days.

  Tilly Gauthier, the matriarch of the Gauthier Offshore Services empire, pops up from the chair and to her feet. “What is the meaning of this?” She directs her sharp chin to the man at the door. He’s dressed in a stuffy, black suit and his stone-like face is void of any emotion.

  “Remove her immediately.” The elderly woman demands.

  The man refuses to move, staring at her blankly.

  What she fails to realize is the man is a new hire. Not that it comes as a surprise that Tilly doesn’t recognize her own employees.

  “Sorry, ma’am. That’s not going to happen.” I gauge her reaction before moving on. She snaps her mouth shut. “Let’s go ahead and get down to business.”

  “This is absurd! I’m not going to stay and listen to this dribble. I have work to do.” An attractive woman slams her hand against the table.

  I ignore the catastrophic quake rippling through my gut and pull my shoulders back. “Sit down, Ms. Scott.”

  My commanding tone sends her recoiling, as if she had just been slapped across her smug face. I suppose it gives a similar sting. Me standing at the head of the table in the Gauthier boardroom.

  I feel Lucky’s presence to my right. He’s sitting in his father’s seat. He stares forward, but I still feel it. I feel him. I feel the heat coming from his body. The spicy scent wafting from his cologne fills my head. We’re so close and the electricity is almost tangible.

  I can’t get a read on him, but I assume he’s angry. If not, he will be by the end of this meeting.

  “James, do something!” His mother waves her bony hand through the air.

  “Mother, give Ms. Belhomme the floor.” A vice grips my throat when he refers to me by my last name. It gives me the motivation to plow ahead.

  “Thank you. Now, if you all will just bear with me.” I reach for the water pitcher and pour myself a glass. I take a long drink to wet my parched mouth.

  Inhaling, I struggle to keep my composure. “I’d like to introduce myself. For those of you who don’t know, my name is Jade Belhomme. My father was Art Flanagan.”

  The air is sucked out of the narrow, rectangular room. The only sound is the resounding gasps.

  “This is preposterous.” Tilly’s nostrils flare. Her taut face is pale and painted. “What kind of joke is this?”

  “Mother, please.” Lucky dips his head, making eye contact. The old woman clearly doesn’t approve, but snaps her mouth closed again, reminding me of a snapping turtle wearing bright red lipstick.

  Lucky adjusts his posture, dropping one hand. Goose bumps dot my arms as he skims his fingertips along my leg before settling his hand around my knee. His gesture bolsters a new level of confidence.

  “Mrs. Gauthier, members of the board, I understand this comes as a shock. I can assure you that the information is on the up and up. And before you argue, you don’t have to take my word for it. I have a whole team of lawyers available to answer your questions. Well, not your questions, but your legal counsel.”

  I slant my head, getting a better look at Carrie as I make my declaration. My chest swells with pride and, well, to be honest, fucking giddiness with every verbal punch.

  “Back to the key points. I’m just going to break them down as quickly as possible since I can’t seem to speak without being interrupted.” I take another sip from the sweaty glass. “First, yes, my biological father was Art Flanagan. The same Mr. Flanagan who co-owned and operated this very company.” I repeat the script over in my head. If I thought dance choreography was a feat to remember, this spiel filled with legal shit is a real bitch. “Next, without going into great detail, I am his sole heir. Finally, what does that mean for you?”

  Here it comes.

  “I know you’ll have a lot of questions. Many will be addressed later, however, at this time, I will be taking over as acting CEO. I have also managed to open an investigation into all board members, suspending the board temporarily.”

  The vacant spot where Lucky’s hand rested on my leg is searing, speaking volumes. His body language becomes rigid and cold.

  “With that, I’ll call an end to this meeting.” Proud that my voice didn’t crack, I attempt to soften my expression.

  “Adjourn.” One man sitting three seats down from Carrie speaks.

  “Excuse me?”

  He sits up straighter, clearing his throat. “The word is, adjourn. You’re going to adjourn the meeting.”

  My immediate comeback is rash and abrasive. My lawyer drilled it into my thick skull to remember that these are not grab happy pigs from the club. I have to keep my emotions intact.

  “And you are?” I
ask.

  “Bartholomew Hobbs, but everyone calls me Barry.”

  “Well, Mr. Hobbs, I appreciate the help. I guess we’ll call this meeting adjourned.”

  I spin on my heels, silently praying that my legs hold up as I fight the urge to put ‘Barry’ in his place.

  “Hey, what the fuck was that all about?” Lucky scrambles to my side before I punch the button on the elevator.

  The last time we stood in this spot, I had the folder in my trembling hands and my back to him. His pleading for me to stay and hear him out fell on deaf ears. His voice dripped with agony as he begged me to stay.

  Now, today, I have to be strong. I have to remember that everything I’m doing isn’t for me, but for my mother and Ma’Linn. No relenting. “What do you mean? It’s exactly what you were hoping for.”

  His saucer-round eyes stare at me. I spot his mother on her cell phone shouting at the person on the other end.

  “That shit was not at all what we talked about.” His chocolate eyes stir with anger and confusion.

  “We didn’t exactly talk about anything. You gave me the information. What did you think I was going to do with it?”

  “We didn’t talk because you took off, like you always do. I thought you might come to me. Work alongside me. A team.”

  I crane my neck. I know the anger is misdirected, but it doesn’t take away from the rage and pain that has taken up permanent residence in my gut. “A team? Here? This entire company has lied, deceived anyone and everyone. They’re criminals.”

  “You know I’m on the board. You’ve just suspended me from my own goddamn board, Baby.”

  My name drops from his lips, warming my icy heart. He’s twisted inside. It’s obvious by the distorted expression hanging off his long face.

  “Look, I had no choice. You can’t pick and choose people without the criminal actions to back it up. Suspending the entire board is the only way to move forward and weed out the trash. Can’t you just trust me?”

  “Trust you? Like you trusted me? I came to you the minute I had the file. I never lied or hid anything. I never went behind your back. This is bullshit.” Lucky sucks in a breath. He rounds his eyes before leveling his strong gaze, as if he’s just had a light bulb moment. “No, I get it. I know what this is about.”

  Planting my hand on my cocked-out hip, I stare back. “By all means, fill me in.”

  “You think I would choose my family over you. The company. You think I would choose Gauthier over you.” He takes a small step backward.

  “Well, it is a 2.2-billion-dollar company.” I realize I shouldn’t have said it as soon as the W left my mouth.

  “That’s fucked up, Baby and you know it. Besides, it is my father’s legacy.”

  “And my father’s.”

  *

  Ma’Linn is elbow deep in arranging her new kitchen. Everything has a proper place and she’s hell bent on making sure it happens today.

  “Damn, woman. I hope that thing’s not on.” I tease my friend, with her head buried in the oven. Her ample, oversized backside is bouncing as she bobs in and out of the fancy five burner stove.

  She scrambles out of the box. “Jus’ doin’ a proper cleaning on dis here con’traption.”

  “It’s brand new. We haven’t even cooked in it yet. What the hell are you cleaning?”

  She slaps the sponge down in the sink. “Dat new stank.” She waves her chunky arms in the air and the hanging skin flaps back and forth. “How yo be liking yo new place?”

  “No, it’s your new place. I just stay here.” I wink, causing the big woman to shake with laughter.

  The huge smile makes her round cheeks ball up just under her dancing eyes. Our life has taken a huge turn. Once I had my hands on the documents, I found the best lawyer in all of Louisiana and got the ball rolling. When he realized money was not a factor, he put everything else aside and made me his number one priority. It took him less than 48hours to authenticate the documents and release the funds from Flanagan’s account. As it turns out, there had been a freeze on all his holdings, other than Gauthier Offshore Services, until they could figure out his personal estate.

  My first act was to get my family out of squalor. It was all foreign and even scary. It still is, making purchases and being able to pick and choose. I’ve never had that luxury. Hell, neither has Ma’Linn.

  Or my mother.

  “Is Momma’s room close to finished?”

  “O’, tifi, she goin’ to love dat space. It be perfect. They jus’ ‘bout done.”

  “Good. I hope she says yes. I have one more trick up my sleeve.”

  Ma’Linn wraps me up, pulling me to her bosom in a tight embrace. “Yo momma goin’ to be oke. I promise yo dat. It’s all comin’ toget’er.”

  I glance around the large kitchen. It’s not massive, but definitely impressive. Especially compared to living in Mickey’s roach motel. “I’m glad we stayed modest. It’s nice. Homie.” Every time I think about owning a house, an actual home, my chest expands, welling with a spiraling combination of awe and pride.

  “Me too, tifi. Four bed’room be plenty. N’ soon, dis place be full.”

  I nod, still hoping to see that plan come together. I spend the next hour filling Ma’Linn in on the board meeting. She remains quiet, nodding and shaking her chubby face.

  “So proud yo, baby girl.”

  “Hell, I couldn’t have done any of this without the lawyers.” I drop my chin. “And Lucky. Now, he’s so angry with me he’s spitting nails.”

  “He come ‘round. Yo see. Jus’ take some time.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” I say, void of any real hope. “I think it might be different this time. I don’t see us being able to move past this together. We’re both going to have our own battles to fight.”

  “Yo be regrettin’ yo decision?”

  “No, of course not. They deserve everything that’s coming to ‘em.”

  “N’ den some.”

  She’s right. What they did was inconceivable. Maybe Lucky hadn’t been involved, but everyone else can suck my left nut.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Lucky

  Shards of plaster cover the charcoal carpet.

  “Mr. Gauthier?” Wendy cracks open the door, craning her head around to survey the damage. “Is everything ok?”

  She spots me cradling my throbbing hand. “Oh my gosh! What happened? Do you need some ice?”

  I shake her off. “No. I’m fine. Just get someone from maintenance to take care of this while I’m out of the office.”

  “You’re leaving?”

  I pop my eyebrows and nod aggressively as I gather my belongings. “Yes, Wendy. I’m leaving. And if my mother calls, you have no idea where I am or how to get in touch with me.”

  “But,” she starts, moving her head from side to side confused. “I don’t have any idea where you’re going, sir.”

  I drop my hands to my side. “Good.”

  I bolt from the building. Shoving the arm load of paperwork and files into my saddlebag, I straddle my bike and strap on my helmet. Snatching the stuffy tie from around my neck, I drop it to the ground, leaving it behind as I soar out of the parking garage. I aim to put as much distance as I fucking can between me and this goddamn corporation.

  Whipping in and out of traffic, my lungs struggle for air. Images of Baby Jade, in her tailored suit, flash like bright neon signs. When she first walked into the room, my brain was fried. My synapses firing on all cylinders. I immediately put us together in my head as the new power couple, taking over Gauthier Headquarters and booting out the shitty riff raff.

  Carrie Scott.

  We were going to investigate the hostile takeover that my mother suspected was being put into play and slay those bitches. Saving the day. Now it’s a fucking pipe dream.

  The bike drifts, causing a parade of middle fingers, all directed toward me, bringing me back to attention.

  Shit.

  My heart pounds inside my ribcage. My body snaps s
traight and I reinforce the death grip I have on my handlebars. A car in the other lane swerves as I fight to gain control, speeding up the ramp to the bridge that crosses over Treme.

  It’s too late.

  I search for an out, any lead way to inch my bike. The two vehicles in front of me are oversized and skipping over the white dotted line. The driver of the red Range Rover barreling toward me has a cell phone pressed to his ear. He’s wearing a ball cap making it impossible to gauge where he’s looking.

  I dart my feverish gaze between the cars in front of me, back to the red vehicle before surveying the non-existent shoulder. The heat from my gut bubbles and sends blood flushing through my veins. The rush leaves me lightheaded.

  With only seconds to spare, I gauge my speed against the red SUV’s. He’s coming too fast. He drifts the lane, causing the cars behind me to speed up.

  It’s too late.

  Jerking the handlebar to the right, I slam into the Range Rover, hoping to get him to veer off, making room to slip through the sliver of a crack coming off the ramp. I feel the tug of the asphalt right before I lose control, laying the bike down. The last thing I feel?

  My skull bouncing off the black pavement.

  *

  Sirens blare in the background. I hear cars skidding across the road. Brakes and horns echo in my ringing ears.

  I don’t feel anything.

  Anything.

  Nothing hurts. There’s a pressure in the air. The kind that comes from people screaming and rushing around me, scrambling around my body. I fight to pry open my eyes, but lose the battle.

  “Sir? Sir, can you hear me?” Someone holds my eyelids open before flooding them with a blinding light. “He’s not responding!” The voice yells louder.

  The motion of hurdling speed sends my stomach into my throat.

  The beeping coming from the machines bellows incessantly.

  “He’s crashing!”

  The lights fade.

  My heartbeat fades.

  I fade…