He takes hold of the chair but doesn’t sit. “Weird seeing you here.”
“Well, it is my stomping grounds. I have to say, it’s weirder finding you in the Quarter. You lost?”
Tony rests two, large plastic cups on the table and Lucky relents. He drops to his seat and takes a long, guzzle followed by wiping the white suds from his thick mustache. “No, not lost. Just trying to catch my breath after a long day. Your stomping grounds, huh?”
“Yep, but I don’t hang out in the Quarter that often. I had a late meeting.” I watch him turn up the cup. “You ok tonight?”
“Why would you care? It’s not like you give a shit about me.” He snaps with heat flying off his tongue.
“You’re right. That’s no longer any of my business.”
Lucky scoffs and tosses his head backward. His face points up at the ceiling. It’s a handsome face, and I wish I could say it does nothing for me, but that would be a lie.
“Are you drunk?”
He widens his eyes into huge, exaggerated circles. “No!” His tone is loud and rushed. “I may have had someone before this, but nothing I can’t handle. And a beer before this one, but that’s nothing. I don’t know. Guess I should’ve eaten something.” Lucky bobs his head. “Here, let me get this round.”
“Actually, why don’t we get some food in you.” I grab Tony’s attention and order a full breakfast platter and two more cold ones.
“So?”
He pulls his broad shoulders up and releases a shrug. “So what?”
This man and his fucking audacity!
“So, where have you been?”
Lucky’s gaping mouth hangs open with his chin practically on the floor. His head moves in disbelief.
“I called a few times. I finally gave up when I never head back. I guess you’ve got your sights set on a war. I was trying to avoid that, but you and your fiancé just seem to be hell bent.”
“That’s what happens during a hostile takeover, Ms. Belhomme.”
“A hostile takeover, really? And that’s all you have to say?” I want to get in his head so bad, but it’s like I have no effect on him. This is not the man I know. He’s off somehow. This must be the difference between James Gauthier and Lucky.
“Look, I don’t know what you want from me.” He sprinkles the chorizo omelet and Cajun potatoes with Tabasco. James is a bit of -.
“I don’t know if this is because of Gauthier or my engagement.” He shovels in the bowl of fresh fruit.
The blood freezes in my veins. “You can’t be serious.”
Lucky drops his fork and it clinks against the empty plate. “Sorry to be so blunt, but it has to be said. You have a real attitude. You knew I said I wanted to have a talk today.”
“We’re talking now.” I ignore the way he rolls his eyes at my clear sarcasm.
“You know what I mean. And you deliberately left the office knowing that I had requested a sit down. We need to discuss this takeover before it gets out of hand. Not to mention, your work attire leaves a little something to be desired.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your clothes. Maybe you could try to dress a little more professional. Especially since you’ve worked your way into an executive position, for now anyway.”
I gawk at him as if he’d just sprouted a gnarly tree at the side of his neck. I have no response. No words. I stand and scoot my chair under the table.
“Where you going? We’re not done.”
I snicker. “Oh, we’re done.” I can’t even bring myself to look him in the face. I swallow hard and struggle to open my air way.
“Ms. Belhomme?”
He calls after me, but I keep my focus forward, nodding to Tony on the way out the door.
“Jade?”
I no longer recognize the sound of my own name coming from his lips. There is no longer a Lucky and Baby. And there sure as shit will never be a James and Jade.
I walk home, passing Pecan Grove. My momma’s on the other side of that stone wall. My imagination runs rampant with scenarios as I replay the earlier conversation I had with Ma’Linn.
I hope she’s sleeping, finding some sense of peace because I have no doubt… if she doesn’t stabilize, they’ll never approve her release into my care.
I press my palm to the brick and root my thoughts on the future. I imagine momma sitting in her new room sketching and painting a fresh garden.
It comes easy, too easy, to fit her into my little world. The tweak in my heartbeat makes me think, makes me dig deeper. I wonder what it would be like for her, and what it might actually be like for her to leave her little world.
The entire day has been like a Freudian dream. Lucky wasn’t making any sense. He shows up after missing for nearly a week and just so happens to be engaged to the one person he hates more than his father.
Carrie Scott.
If I didn’t know better, I’d swear that bitch gave him a fucking lobotomy. It’s not like I ever put any real stock in pulling off the board meeting without a hitch. But I never assumed his reaction would be to totally annihilate me, taking himself down at the same time.
I feel sick to my stomach, with his sharp tone stuck, ringing in my ears.
I stop by the liquor store and buy two bottles of Moscato. I just want to lock myself in my bedroom and climb under a blanket to disappear. I drag my feet, taking my sweet time walking home even though I have three miles left. I really need for Ma’Linn to be asleep.
I don’t have anything left to give, not today.
*
Sweat seals my t-shirt to the sheet. It feels like I’m sitting on the damn sun. I slept in my clothes, which is something I never do. The blistering, morning heat sets my room ablaze. I peel open my gluey eyes, realizing I failed to remove my makeup the night before.
I glance up, annoyed the ceiling fan is turned off. I struggle to prop up my sluggish frame, ignoring the invisible vice grip seizing my temples. When I shift, two empty wine bottles roll off the bed and to the floor. The glass clinking against each other sends shrill goose bumps popping along my scalp.
I don’t remember draining both bottles, but I guess that’s kind of the point.
I stretch and release a loud groan. I feel gross, grimy.
I try not to wake up Ma’Linn as I tiptoe to the bathroom. She was in her room when I got home, but not asleep. I heard chanting about Philippe well into the night, all the way up until I couldn’t remember anymore.
I step into the shower and take my time washing because the cool water is refreshing. All that time with a shitty water heater, and I’m still taking a cold shower. The temps are already record breaking.
I force myself to throw on my robe and leave my damp hair down to air dry. I don’t hear a peep from Ma’Linn and decide to surprise her with coffee.
I didn’t expect to find her bedroom door ajar, which turns the quiet into eerie.
“Ma’Linn?” I search the kitchen and Momma’s room before checking the garage and small, gated yard.
Nothing.
I run back inside, and nearly miss it. A note hangs under a Pecan Grove magnet.
Cher, Gone to da veg’table stand. I check on yo momma after. Boobie hugs. M.
Looks like coffee for one.
I take the time to myself and count it a rare miracle, pouring a full cup of liquid gold and hope fills my chest. This might just be a tolerable day.
However, it doesn’t take long for my chest to cave like a popped balloon.
I grab my cell and check the time flashing across the screen.
10:45 a.m...
“Fuck!” My throat dips down into my stomach, filling me with quaking nausea. I’m late again. I know Gauthier has someone watching my every move at the office, and my lawyer will have a shit fit if he hears about this.
I pile my wet waves onto the top of my head, pinning the hair in place. I throw on the first thing I can get my hands on and zip out the door. By the time I catch a taxi and the driver fights the lunch hour
traffic, it takes what feels like forever to reach headquarters.
11:38 a.m...
CHAPTER TWELVE
Lucky
“Call her AGAIN!” I shout from behind my desk into the hallway.
There could not have been a worse day for Sheila to start her new position as my assistant. I certainly hope the elderly woman is more efficient than she looks. I’m sure her lack of appearance, and youth, played a big role in Carrie’s decision to hire her.
“Yes, sir.” I barely hear her mumble.
For fuck’s sake.
“Wendy, anything?”
I don’t hear a response, but I should have guessed it was because she refused to holler down the hall. I meet her outside my office.
“No, Mr. Gauthier. Not yet, but I can try her again.”
I slam the door before Wendy finishes her sentence.
Sheila’s fucking useless. Sure, she was here at eight on the dot, but so was Wendy. You know who wasn’t here at eight on the dot? Carrie. So, I was left with no choice but to explain the awkward situation. And it was harder than I thought it would be.
When I told Wendy about Sheila, her bottom lip began to tremble, and moisture pooled in her sad eyes. It didn’t even occur to me that the poor girl would assume she was being fired.
I caved and did the only thing I could think of at the time and made her Jade’s assistant.
Wendy beams and throws both hands up to her mouth. She asked to be dismissed so she could start canceling Ms. Belhomme’s interviews.
I try not to be offended that she didn’t at least pretend to be a little disappointed.
But that’s over and now I can move on to being pissed off at someone new. Someone deserving. Someone who blew me off – again.
Jade.
The second my thoughts are back on her, my heart tweaks, sending my pulse into overdrive. I flare my nostrils and shake my head. This woman has zero respect for me or this company. She lacks professionalism and manners. It’s obvious that she knows jack shit about running a business. It’s time to end this takeover bullshit.
Someone knocks on my door and I jump to my feet, ready to unload on Jade.
“Darling, I’m sorry it took so long. My doctor appointment ran later than planned.” Carrie rests her handbag on my office sofa and invades the space behind my desk. She dips down to give me a kiss, but I automatically turn my neck, giving her my cheek. “How’s Sheila working out?”
I’m irritated with myself for not knowing or paying attention to my fiancé’s health. I’ll have to ask more about it later.
I ignore Carrie’s scowl. “Well, she could improve in a few areas, like announcing visitors.”
“Why don’t we step out for a nice lunch? What do you say? We can chat, talk, and come back to the office fresh and relaxed. Ready to take on the day. Sound like a plan?”
“No.” I tell myself it’s not her fault that I’m angry. It’s not her fault that Jade seems to disregard every word I say. I sigh and remind myself that she’s my fiancé. My partner. She doesn’t mean me any harm or ill will. All this rage stems from the amnesia. The asshole who decided his phone call was more important than his life is the one at fault.
“I’m sorry, Carrie. I just have a lot on my plate. I can’t leave right now. I need to prepare for a meeting.”
She glowers before her mouth slips into a smile. “Alright, another time then.”
“Mr. Gauthier?” Sheila’s waif-like voice streams out from the speaker.
“Yes?”
“Ms. Belhomme is on her way up.”
“Thanks, Sheila.” I didn’t bother telling Carrie that my meeting was with Jade because I knew what would happen, and just like I called it, Carrie twists her face into a disgusted snarl.
“Maybe I should stay”
“Look, I know you’re just trying to help, but the more you coddle me, the harder it is to gain respect around here. I need to do this on my own.”
“Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
She steps in for the dreaded parting of ways. I hate it, every damn time. I don’t know whether or not to kiss her, hug her, or boot her in the ass. It’s uncomfortable and awkward. I expel the air from my inflated lungs when she leaves without affection.
I rake my fingers through my hair and attempt to polish my look before stepping out into the hallway, hoping to make the sit down an easy transition. But, instead of running into Jade Belhomme, I have a near miss with Wendy when she comes racing down the hall, rushing toward the elevator. The thing dings and the metal part.
I don’t have to be a fly on the wall to know what the shockingly efficient secretary is ranting in Jade’s ear. Ms. Belhomme listens for a moment before glaring in my direction.
Here we go.
I lock my gaze onto her stormy green ones and watch her march with purpose toward me. It draws all the moisture from my mouth and my throat constricts.
A reaction that Carrie Scott has yet to even come close to.
She moves in and erases the gap between us and I notice her long, black hair is wet and tied up, revealing her delicious neck.
“Let’s get this over with.”
I step aside and make room for her to pass. She releases a loud huff and sits down. I guess our talk about wardrobe choices didn’t make much of a dent, but I can’t bring myself to complain. Not the way the tight tank top rides up, showing off her tone, tan abdomen. The flowy black skirt is settled low on her perfect hips with long slits running the length of her smooth legs.
Jade throws one knee over the other and the way she clicks her shoe, dangling the sandal on her painted toes makes my own stomach tighten, really fucking with my head.
‘We had a meeting on the books for first thing this morning. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to avoid me.”
“I had shit to do. What do you want?”
“No small talk? Alright, let’s get down to business.” I lean up to the desk and clasp both hands. “We need to discuss this takeover bullshit.”
“Excuse me?” I try not to pay attention to the way her long, thick lashes touch her dark brows when she rounds her mesmerizing eyes.
“This is insane.” I pat the large stack of file folders. “I’ve been familiarizing myself with Gauthier’s history. There’s no way a judge is going to see fit to give you half of the company that my family built from scratch.”
I expect her to have an attitude. She’s a real ball buster, so I brace myself for her response. But, once again, she finds a way to knock me right out of my expensive shoes.
Jade Belhomme stares at me for a few seconds as she pulls her bottom lip in, rolling it between her teeth, and I suddenly want to bend her over the fucking desk, throw that skirt up over that perfect backside, and fuck the smart ass right out of her.
She obviously doesn’t feel the same way.
Jade stands, turns her back to me, and strolls right out the door. “You can address my lawyer.”
What in the holy, mother of fuck?
I hear her voice soften in the hallway. “You must be Sheila. I’m Jade, and I’m new myself. Just thought I’d say hey. If you need anything, Wendy’s just two desks down.”
“Oh, thank you. That’s so kind.”
I roll my eyes. Carrie must know better than I do about this situation. I guess it’s time to ask for assistance before I lose the whole company altogether.
I wait for silence before I hit the buzzer. “Sheila, a minute please?”
“Yes, Mr. Gauthier.” It takes longer than it should, but she finally appears with an actual notepad and sharp pencil. I stifle the bubble of laughter fighting to break free.
This can’t be my life.
“I have an assignment for you. Have a seat.” I wait for her to move before I continue. “My mother is out of the country. She took a trip to clear her head or something, but I need her back in the office. ASAP.”
She scribbles notes. “You want me to call her?”
>
“Actually, I want you to track her down.”
Sheila furrows her wrinkly forehead. “I’m sorry, sir?”
“I know it sounds ridiculous, but I’ve tried calling. I can’t remember where she went or where her usual vacation spots are, but I’m sure you can pull financials, talk to the jet, and shit like that. Think you can handle that?”
“Yes, sir,” she says with confidence. “I’ll get with Ms. Scott and see what we can come up with.”
I jump up from my seat. “No, this is to stay between us. Is that a problem? You did sign a confidentiality agreement, correct?”
“Um, yes, sir.” She ducks her chin and fidgets with the gaudy broach on her purple suit. “No, no problem at all. I’ll get right on it.”
“Good. Keep me updated.”
Sheila nods before closing the door behind her.
I really hope she can pull this off because I’m getting desperate. It’s time for some reinforcements and I don’t feel comfortable reaching out to Carrie, not about this.
Not about anything.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Baby Jade
Wendy sits across from me with a smile that couldn’t be pried off using a jack hammer.
“So, I take it you’re cool with your new position?”
She bounces in her seat and her blonde bob swishes. “Of course.”
I snicker when her excitement echoes, booming off the walls. “Ok, ok. I get it. I hate that you had to cancel all those interviews. What a mess.”
“It wasn’t a problem. I don’t mind. I just hate that they didn’t discuss it with you first.”
That thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. “Well, no need to bring it up since we’re both happy with the move. Sorry about leaving you hanging this morning. I’m not used to dealing with the cell phone. I’ll get better.”
“Absolutely. It really is my pleasure. Um, there weren’t many messages, but I did fill in the afternoon schedule for you. You’re needed in two meetings. The first is at two and the other at four.”
“You know, Wendy, I was thinking it might be helpful to talk about how things were before I came on board. Back when you still worked for the original Mr. Gauthier.”
Queen of NOLA Page 6