Queen of NOLA

by Kimmie Easley

  I notice the way the excited glint in her eyes vanishes, snuffing out the light.

  “Wendy? Is it something I said?”

  She shakes her head, staring at her lap. “No, it’s not you. I just didn’t really enjoy my time then.” She jerks her head upright and her eyes are like big, white saucers. “But that’s not how I feel now. Please don’t think that. I really need this job.”

  I didn’t see it before, but it’s clear as day now. It’s there, and I’m not going to make her relive the torment. Certainly not on my account.

  “Ok, let me just stop you right there. Your job is secure. I promise you that.” My heart grows when I see relief settle across the young woman’s face. “Let’s do it like this. Every morning, we’ll go over the day’s schedule. You work on putting together a binder, like a manual for me. And don’t worry about offending me. Go ahead and treat me like you’re teaching a kid in school. Probably elementary if I’m being honest.”

  Wendy types notes in her iPad and beams. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Also, I’d like for you to sit in on any meeting I attend. I need to cover my ass.” I realize what I said and try to back pedal. “I mean, you know, due to my lack of experience.”

  “Ms. Belhomme, I mean Jade, you don’t have to explain. Whatever you need from me, I’m here. I just want to say, I understand loyalty and you can count on me.”

  The girl leans forward, and her demeanor is drenched with sincerity. I believe her, every word. Wendy’s been through some shit.

  “I hope you know that goes both ways.”

  She nods, flashing a full smile and I know our relationship is safe. We’re going to be close friends.

  *

  A heavy-set man twists his mustache as he sits at the oval conference table. Next to him is a gray-haired gentleman who appears to be struggling to stay awake. And just in case I wasn’t miserable enough, Carrie and Lucky make up the other half of the meeting.

  “Does she really need to be here?” Carrie directs her death stare at Wendy.

  “She’s here at my request.” I end the conversation there. I don’t have to explain myself.

  The man wedged between his chair and the table chuckles, closing it with a deep, hacking cough. “Kind of like you, Carrie, with young James here.”

  I don’t know what the old man means, but it sends Carrie fuming. She’s practically shooting steam out of her ears.

  “If there’s not a problem, can we move along now?”

  “Yes,” Lucky starts. “Why don’t we stop wasting Ms. Belhomme’s time. We know how precious it is.”

  If this is the new and improved James ‘Lucky’ Gauthier, I want no part of it… or him.

  I have to pretend to know what the hell everyone is talking about, so I sit and nod. Throwing in the occasional, ‘I see’ and ‘sure, makes sense’ proud of myself for coming up with the idea to bring Wendy along.

  I notice that I’m not the only quiet one in the room. Lucky doesn’t have much to contribute and he only speaks when someone asks him a direct question. He jots down notes, but mostly he just stares at me.

  Hard. And intense.

  After the final meeting of the day, I fight the urge to stop for wine and head straight home to hibernate. But there’s no time for that. The day is far from over and the slower the hours pass, the more worried I grow about Willow.

  Every negative thought I can imagine runs rampant.

  It doesn’t matter. I decide to remain a good girl and head to the cemetery where Drew is currently waiting for me. We agreed it would be a good place to touch base without prying eyes.

  Just as I step inside the iron gate, my cell vibrates.

  “Hello?”

  “Ms. Belhomme, Gerry Bossier here. You got a quick minute?”

  “Hey, yeah, sure. What’s up? Has something happened?”

  “Well, we lucked up. They’ve set an emergency hearing for tomorrow at two-fifteen. I’m assuming there won’t be an issue with your attendance.”

  “I’ll be there. Definitely not a problem. Is there anything else you need from me? Anything for tomorrow?”

  “Not for this particular hearing. Just meet me in front of the courthouse at least twenty minutes early. Do not be late. Oh, and remember to wear something court appropriate and just tell the truth.”

  Heat surges through my veins, making my legs wobbly. “Do I need to be worried, Gerry? Just lay it on me. I won’t be happy if I walk into a snake pit.”

  “Oh, honey, this is attorneys and judges. You don’t have much of a choice there. We’re all snakes. Do what I say, and they’ll keep their fangs to themselves. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Fangs. Why should I expect anything else?

  But I don’t have time to worry about that. That clusterfuck will still be there tomorrow. Today, I’m too busy playing secret spy with the Texas cowboy.

  I notice his eyes light up when he sees me skirt the corner. I try to ignore the way it makes me sad.

  “This is what you came up with? A damn graveyard?”

  I giggle at Drew’s uneasiness. “What’s the matter? You got a case of the heebie jeebies? It’s just a few spirits. Besides, we agreed.”

  He levels his round eyes. “That shit’s not funny. We may have to find another secret spot.”

  “It’ll be fine once your balls drop. Come on, what do have for me?”

  He sighs, and I take it as a bad sign. “I wish I had good news. I haven’t been able to find the girl, but I’m getting closer. I’ve got Slade’s schedule down cold.”

  “I guess that’s a start.” I brace myself against the crumbling stone of an old, dilapidated tomb.

  “Like I said, it’s not much to go on, but this could mean something.” Drew swipes his phone before holding it up to my face.

  I snag it to get a closer look, inspecting the photo. It’s a candid shot of three men gathered in a huddle with two others posted as guards. I recognize all but one of them. It’s the suits from the strip club and Slade makes up the middle of the greasy sandwich.

  The fifth guy looks like the others, wearing a bland suit and tie. He’s balding on top with salt and pepper hair. He’s plain and boring. Nothing about him sticks out. Nothing but the company he keeps.

  “When was this taken?”

  “Today, right after sharing a two-hour lunch. This is the alley behind The Ruby Slipper.”

  “Ok, you say you know Slade’s schedule. We need to track who he meets with and see if any of those fine, upstanding gentlemen can be connected to the club.”

  “My thoughts too. Where do you want to meet next?”

  “Are you serious? This place is as private as it’s going to get. Let’s do the same time tomorrow. I’ll try to scrape up some cash, but court’s taking longer than expected.”

  Drew shakes his head. “I already told you, don’t worry about that. I just hope we don’t die in this fucking graveyard before finding the girl.”

  I hold my laughter. He’s too easy to mess with. “I’ll have Ma’Linn work up a protection spell. You’ll be fine.”

  His lips curl and it reminds me to go easy on the teasing. I’d sure hate for this sweet man to get hurt… again.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Lucky

  I splash cold water on my face and stare at myself in the mirror. I have never been more repulsed.

  This fucking woman has gotten so deep into my head, I can’t think straight. Today’s meetings proved to be pointless. Instead of taking the lead and cementing my position, I floundered. I lost all focus. It was obvious that my attempt to know what I was talking about came off juvenile and unprofessional. Shit, it’s not like I have any idea what kind of business man I truly am.

  My memory isn’t getting any better. This accident is following me around like a bad omen. Nothing I do works. I throw myself into the business. I even let Carrie lead me around like a dog on a goddamn leash.

  But nothing helps. I just can’t seem to move forward. Nothing feels righ
t, not the relationships or Gauthier. Not even the rage.

  “Is this a good time?”

  I glance up and find Todd Shipley hanging half in and half out of my open door. I had been so lost in my own torment that I didn’t hear him.

  “Mr. Gauthier? Is this a good time to go over some information with you? Ms. Scott said you needed me to fine tune some points about the case with Ms. Belhomme.”

  “Yeah, come on in. Have a seat.”

  “Should we wait for her?”

  “Jade’s coming to this meeting?”

  Todd contorts his face and purses his lips, confused.

  “Oh, you meant Carrie. No.” I snap and click the call button. “Sheila, remember the talk we had about announcing people?”

  “Oops. Yes, sir. Sorry. I got it on a Post-It note stuck somewhere. Let me see if I can find it.” Her voice trails off at the end.

  “Sheila, listen, I don’t want to be disturbed. Understood?”

  “Oh, yes, sir. Absolutely.”

  I look at Todd who appears restless as he fidgets with the stack of papers resting in her lap.

  “Alright, let’s get down to business. What are we dealing with here? Carrie says it’s a hostile takeover.”

  “Well, it’s not a takeover, exactly. Really, not at all.” The man clicks the button on his pen, drilling the sound into my temples. I wait for him to talk, but he leaves me hanging.

  “Ok, want to elaborate on that some?”

  Todd shifts in his seat. “Um, a hostile takeover would mean someone was making an attempt to acquire the company without Gauthier’s permission. This is typically done by secretly purchasing stock. That’s not the current situation.”

  “We’re talking about Jade Belhomme, correct?”

  “Yes, sir. I spoke with Mr. Bossier, Ms. Belhomme’s attorney and the courts have scheduled an emergency hearing for tomorrow. This should determine the direction of this case. However, we do know her assets have been frozen, but I’m not positive how long that will hold up. The evidence list is quite extensive.”

  For the first time, I weigh the gravity of the situation. It doesn’t sit well with me when I learn about Jade’s financial troubles.

  I grow annoyed with the man. “Mr. Shipley, did you receive an e-mail earlier this week regarding my accident and little stint in the hospital?”

  He drops his gaze and squirms. “Yes, sir. Of course.”

  I pull in a scorching lungful of air of muggy air in through my nose. I attempt to tame the wild, angry thoughts bouncing around in my thick skull.

  “So, then you are aware of my memory loss. Maybe you could explain this to me like you’re talking to someone with no prior knowledge of the situation. You know, like someone with amnesia.” Another deep, heated breath. “Look, this isn’t on you. It’s me. Just talk to me like I know jack shit, because you won’t be far off.”

  The lawyer stares, gawking at me.

  “Do I need to request someone else from counsel?”

  Todd promptly shakes his pencil thin neck in a panic. “No, sir. That won’t be necessary. Ok, let me see where to start.” To his credit, he picks up his chin and finally makes eye contact. “You have a handle on the inner operations of the business and how your father started Gauthier with Mr. Flanagan.”

  I nod and remain silent.

  “As you know, Mr. Flanagan committed suicide.”

  I open my mouth for more air, but his last comment pushes some serious buttons. “Are you fucking serious?”

  “Sir, you asked me to…”

  “Ok, ok.” I shake it off, knowing what he’s about to throw in my face. “Continue.”

  “Well, he didn’t have a wife and it appeared that the will was pretty much cut and dry.”

  “Appeared?”

  “Yes, sir. The clause was stated, with no spouse or heirs, his shares of the company would revert straight to your father.”

  My pulse quickens as irritation bubbles up from my core. It’s as if time decided to stand still the moment he walked into my office.

  “I know what you’re thinking. Everything seems standard, but that’s not the case. Not even close. According to the information turned into the courts, there was an amendment made to the will. Mr. Flanagan stated that he had an adult heir. A daughter. The document explains that Mr. Gauthier was to do everything within his power to find her and turn over Mr. Flanagan’s half of the company. If he wasn’t able to track her down, the entire business would then belong to your father.”

  The words are making sense, but I can’t recall anything about these people. I have no idea if anyone is on the up and up around here. Who’s telling me the truth? Who’s holding back, trying to protect me for my own good?

  I pinch my eyes shut. “And we have a copy of this addendum to the will?”

  Todd nods. “Among other things, yes.”

  “Ok, well, I’m sure he tried. He obviously came up empty handed because he took controlling interest before his heart attack. Seems like this should be a no brainer.” I don’t know if I’m trying to convince Mr. Shipley, or myself. “So, this is good. This case should be in and out. We go tomorrow and put this shit behind us. The judge shouldn’t have a problem dismissing the case or finding in favor of Gauthier. Hell, this is actually positive news.”

  “Quite the opposite, sir. It’s a huge problem.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  This little shit is really starting to piss me off. Next time, I’ll wear a goddamn decoder ring.

  Why is it everything I do in this damn company, my company, comes off more fucked up than when I started? For someone who owns and runs a mega corporation, I sure as shit hate the business. And the suit. And the tie. And Todd Shipley.

  “What’s the fucking problem?”

  “Well, there is a daughter and she’s stepped out of the shadows.”

  “So what? If my father did everything he could, that’s that. What was he supposed to do? Search forever? She probably only showed her face, because she got wind of the money involved.”

  “It’s not looking like your father had any intentions of finding her or turning over her rightful shares.”

  I stare at the man, imagining what it would be like to rip his skinny little neck from his narrow shoulders. “Who is this woman?”

  Todd locks his gaze.

  “Jade Belhomme.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Baby Jade

  I didn’t intend on draining both bottles of Moscato. I only bought two because of the stupid buy one, get one fifty percent off bullshit.

  I tell myself it’s a good buy, when really, it’s just a habit for me to grab two at a time and the thought of enjoying a nice glass of wine while soaking in a hot, bubble bath is too good to pass up.

  Everything was on track for an uneventful night until my cell started ringing.

  Lucky.

  Not tonight, James.

  I stick in my ear buds and blast some old country, feeding right into my blues. I left Ma’Linn snoozing in the recliner she quickly claimed as hers on move in day. Her glasses are perched on her nose and her current read is open, resting on her massive bosom. I collect both and cover her with a couch throw before flipping the switch on the wall, leaving the room dark.

  No doubt she’ll wake up in the middle of the night and grab something sweet for a snack. She tries to hide her back and forth shuffles to the fridge, but she’s not fooling anyone. I’d bust her, but those chubby, brown cheeks would flare with heat and I wouldn’t be able to stand that. If enjoying secret Oreos and a cold glass of milk in bed keeps her pride in check, then I’m happy to play along.

  I click the off button to the tub jets and dab my skin with a fresh towel. When done, I wrap it around my body, tucking it tightly above my breasts. A few stray wisps of hair cling to my damp neck and shoulders.

  My phone rattles across the vanity. The caller ID flashes with Lucky’s name. I hit the ignore button. Four missed calls and they’re all from the same person.


  Lucky’s really got a hard on tonight.

  I pour another glass of wine, guzzle it, and fill it to the top. It goes down smooth, like water. I always know when it happens, when the moment comes when I take a swan dive across the line. Alcohol tastes different once you step off the cliff. The first sip is sweet, followed by a tang of citrus. I love the light bubbles and the way they dance across my tongue. But after a few glasses, my taste buds become immune to the burst of flavors.

  The sips turn into guzzles. By the time I throw on a t-shirt and my old, fuzzy slippers, I’ve already uncorked the second bottle.

  I find myself wishing I’d bought more when Lucky calls again. I hold down the power button and watch the display lights vanish into the background. I can’t imagine why he’s calling, but I am in no mood to be bitched at. He can kiss my bare ass on fucking repeat.

  I fix what little brain cells are still working on Drew and his nominal discovery. It’s not exactly a secret that Slade’s been slinking around with some suits. One of which I know is a politician and one of the worst kinds.

  I don’t know what any of this has to with Willow, but my gut’s rarely wrong and it’s telling me the two are connected. Drew should have more information after shadowing Slade. I hope it moves fast. Otherwise, Willow will be keeping Lolli company in a very muddy, watery grave.

  The glass bottles clink against each other and it gives me Deja Vue. It was less than twenty-four hours ago when I sat right here, drinking wine straight from the bottle. I know I need to slow down, but I don’t care. It doesn’t matter because it doesn’t take long for my addictive nature to whip its ugly head.

  I decide I don’t give a shit. I put the bottle to my lips and turn it up. I allow the liquid, while it’s still sweet, to work its bubbly magic on my throbbing head.

  Along with my plaguing thoughts. The last thing I want to do is sit up all night worrying about court. I take another pull of wine. I drink until there’s nothing left.

  No bubbles.

  No sweetness.

  Nothing but static.