“We want a booth,” Caleb said. “Two cups of coffee. Black?” he asked Reve.
“Cream, no sugar,” she replied.
“And ask Jazzy to join us. Tell her I’ve got a little surprise for her.”
“I’ll say you do. Who is she?” Tiffany looked at Reve. “I mean, who are you, ma’am? I can’t get over how much you look like Jazzy.”
“So everyone keeps telling me.”
“Second booth on the left, by the windows,” Tiffany said. “I’ll tell Jazzy and then get the coffee.”
As they headed for the booth, several heads turned and more than one set of eyes stared unabashedly at Reve as she walked by. All of a sudden she wasn’t so sure coming here like this had been such a good idea. Maybe she should have called Jasmine Talbot first and asked her a few questions. Maybe she should have telephoned Jamie and asked him to set up a meeting between her and her so-called twin.
By the time they sat down and Reve began to relax, whispers and murmurs surrounded them. Tiffany came rushing back to their booth, a coffeepot in hand. She flipped over the cups already on the table and poured the steaming brew, then reached in her apron and produced several small containers of half-and-half, which she placed by Reve’s cup.
“Jazzy will be right out. She’s just finishing up breakfast in her office with her aunt Sally and Ludie. Ludie brought in some pies she’d baked yesterday, so we’d have them for today’s lunch crowd.”
“Did you mention that I had a lady with me who just happens to be Jazzy’s spitting image?” Caleb asked.
“I just told her that you wanted her to come out and meet a lady you had with you and that she was in for quite a surprise when she saw the lady.”
No sooner had Tiffany walked away than Caleb stood up beside the booth, an odd grin on his face. Reve turned just enough to glance over her shoulder. The bottom dropped out of her stomach. The woman walking toward them wore skintight jeans, a bright yellow T-shirt that accentuated her large breasts, and sported a short, flyaway haircut that proclaimed her stylish and hip. Jasmine Talbot was strikingly attractive. And very sexy. Two things Reve Sorrell wasn’t. But the body was similar to hers, although hers was well camouflaged beneath classically tailored pinstriped black slacks, a black blazer, and a white shirt. And the woman’s every feature was a perfect match to Reve’s. Same forehead, eyes, nose, mouth, ears, long neck, cheekbones, chin.
A cold fear encompassed Reve as Jazzy drew near. There was no way someone could look that much like another person without them being related. That meant this woman could very well be her sister, maybe her twin sister.
Jazzy stopped several feet away as Reve turned around fully and their gazes locked. She noted the same shock, the same uncertainty, and the same unanswered questions in Jasmine Talbot’s eyes that plagued her. Green eyes, not brown, she noted. But what had McCord said? Something about Jazzy wearing contacts.
Caleb walked over to Jazzy and urged her into motion. “Come on over and meet another one of Jamie’s lady friends. It seems you two have even more in common than just being Jamie Upton’s type.”
“What is this?” Jazzy asked as she came within a foot of Reve and glared at her. “Who are you?”
“Reve Sorrell.”
Jazzy looked at Caleb. “How do you know this woman?”
“I just met her outside a few minutes ago. She mentioned that Jamie had suggested she come to Cherokee Pointe and meet you. It would seem that Jamie found an almost perfect substitute for you.”
While Caleb watched Jazzy speculatively, Reve picked up on a wild, angry tension smoldering inside him. God, what had she gotten herself into?
“Look,” Reve said, “the reason I’m here really has nothing to do with Jamie, it’s just that—”
“Why don’t you tell the lady that Jamie no longer needs a substitute,” Caleb said, “that as of last night, he’s got the original back in his bed?”
Jazzy glowered at Caleb. Her cheeks flushed. “What were you doing, standing outside my apartment, watching me in the middle of the night?”
Jazzy glanced around, apparently checking to see if anyone was listening to their conversation. Since all eyes were focused on the three of them, it was obvious that anyone within hearing distance was privy to what was being said. Reve knew for sure and certain she had inadvertently walked into the middle of what seemed to be a lover’s triangle: Caleb McCord, Jazzy Talbot, and Jamie Upton.
“I just happened to notice Upton’s Mercedes at your place last night when I left work. I helped Lacy close up the place after you left,” Caleb replied. “I don’t give a shit who you screw, but from now on, don’t pretend you want him out of your life. You’ve wasted my time and energy by getting me to throw him out of Jazzy’s Joint time and again, when apparently all you were doing was titillating him, making him want you all the more. You know what that makes you in my book?”
Jazzy slapped Caleb McCord. Right there in the middle of the restaurant. Reve gasped, shocked by the woman’s actions. A lady never reacted in such a coarse, crude manner. Certainly never in public. But then, from all accounts, Jazzy Talbot was no lady.
Being involved, even as a bystander, to this sort of crude behavior was not what she’d bargained for when she decided to make this trip. Get the hell out of here now, she told herself. Go home to Chattanooga and forget there’s a woman here in Cherokee Pointe who might be your twin. You don’t want to be related to a woman like Jazzy Talbot.
While the attentive clientele absorbed the scene between Jazzy and Caleb, Reve picked up her purse from the booth, then turned and all but ran from the restaurant. Before she reached the door, she heard a man’s voice calling her name, but she didn’t slow down, didn’t look back to see who it was.
Just as she got outside and took a deep breath, a familiar hand clamped down on her shoulder. “Don’t run off,” Caleb said.
Reve swallowed, then turned to face him. “Please, leave me alone.”
“I apologize for what happened back there. Jazzy and I tend to ignite sparks off each other. And I did deserve that slap she gave me. Come on back and—”
“No, thank you. I’ve seen quite enough of Jasmine Talbot.”
“Don’t judge Jazzy by what happened in there. If you’d give yourself a chance to get to know her, you’d like her. She’s all right, you know. Her only problem is that she’s addicted to Jamie Upton. And I suspect you might have that same addiction.”
“I assure you, Mr. McCord, I do not.”
Caleb laced Reve’s arm through his. “If that’s true, then maybe I’ve been trying to score points with the wrong redhead.”
Chapter 3
The minute Jim Upton heard his grandson’s Mercedes zoom into the circular drive in front of the house, he stomped out onto the veranda to head the boy off. He had a few choice words to say to Jamie, and he didn’t want any of the ladies to overhear their conversation.
Reba had been so upset with their grandson’s outrageous disappearance from his own engagement party last night that she’d gone to bed with a migraine. When he’d checked in on his wife this morning, she’d still been sleeping. He and Reba hadn’t shared a bed in years. Her choice, not his.
Jim hadn’t seen anything of the Willis family—Laura, her mother and father and younger sister. He assumed they were all still in bed. Of course, he wouldn’t blame Cecil Willis if he insisted his daughter call off the wedding. Damn shame that such a sweet, fragile Southern belle had fallen in love with Jamie. The look on dear little Laura’s face last night when she realized Jamie had just up and left had been enough to break a man’s heart.
Jim stood on the veranda, his arms crossed over his chest, and watched his grandson meander up the steps, all the while whistling. When Jamie saw Jim, he threw up a hand and smiled broadly. Damned good-for-nothing scoundrel, Jim thought. What the boy lacked in every other aspect, he often made up for in charm. But charm was worthless in and of itself. Just about as worthless as Jamie. Why the Good Lord had seen fi
t to take away Jim’s son and daughter and leave him with nothing but Jim Jr.’s only child, he’d never know. If only Jamie was more like his father. But he wasn’t.
And to think that Jamie had been such a sweet, precocious child. Loving, beguiling, and seemingly as devoted to his grandparents as they were to him. But with each passing year, from twelve years old to the present, at twenty-nine, Jamie had become more and more of a disappointment.
If it hadn’t been for Reba’s pleading defense of the boy, Jim would have written him off as a lost cause a couple of years ago. But Jim realized that losing Jamie would break Reba’s heart, and even if he didn’t love his wife—had never really loved her the way a man should—he cared about her and believed she deserved what little happiness she derived from their grandson.
Reba had her heart set on Jamie’s marrying Laura. And by God, if it meant beating sense into the boy to get him to straighten up, at least until after the wedding, then Jim was ready to whip his grandson’s ass.
“We need to talk,” Jim said as Jamie approached him.
“Ah, now, Big Daddy, what good is talking going to do? You’ll chew me out, I’ll say I’m sorry, then—”
Jim grabbed Jamie’s arm, twisted it behind his back and said, “March your sorry ass around to the side of the house and into the gazebo. You and I are about to have a major come-to-Jesus-talk, boy.”
Grunting in pain, Jamie struggled. Fruitlessly. Despite being seventy-five, Jim had the advantage of not only superior strength, but superior size. He was half a foot taller and fifty pounds heavier than his grandson. “Hellfire, Big Daddy, you’re going to break my arm.”
“I’d like to break your neck.” Jim tightened his hold on Jamie’s arm and marched him down the steps and onto the driveway.
Jamie stopped struggling, relaxed, and fell into step with Jim’s pace. As soon as they drew near the large, ornately decorated gazebo at the side of the house, Jim gave Jamie a shove inside and motioned for him to sit down. Jamie sat in one of the two huge wicker chairs. Jim paced back and forth in front of his grandson, then took a deep breath and sat down in the other chair.
“Look, it’s no big deal,” Jamie said. “I’ll apologize to Laura and to Big Mama and to Mr. and Mrs. Willis.”
Jim clenched his teeth. No big deal. I’ll apologize. “There comes a time when apologies just aren’t enough. How the hell are you going to explain to Laura why you left your engagement party before it ended? Are you going to tell her that you had to go see Jazzy Talbot, that your hunger for another woman was so powerful that—”
“I can’t give Jazzy up. Not entirely. Surely you, of all people, understand that.”
“Don’t compare the two of us, boy. I have never done anything that I knew would hurt your grandmother. I respect her too much, care about her too—”
“What about Erin? Don’t you think that if Big Mama knew about your latest mistress, she’d be hurt?”
“She doesn’t know and she never will.”
“And Laura has no reason to ever—”
“Hell, boy, Laura knows about Jazzy. Everybody in Cherokee County knows about Jazzy.”
Jamie glanced away, a sullen look marring his handsome features. “I’ll marry Laura, just like Big Mama wants. And we’ll give y’all some grandbabies. That should make Big Mama happy. But I can’t love Laura. Not the way I love Jazzy.”
Jim groaned. A part of him actually felt sorry for his grandson. Jamie truly believed that what he felt for Jazzy Talbot was love. Hell, maybe it was. Maybe he loved Jazzy as much as he was capable of loving another human being. But Jamie’s love was weak and spineless, just the way he was.
“I thought Jazzy had pretty much told you to get lost,” Jim said. “ Is that what this is all about—you just can’t take no for an answer? Her not wanting you makes you want her all the more?”
“She wants me.” Jamie rose to his feet and walked over to the edge of the gazebo railing that circled the twenty-foot circular building.
“Did she let you stay the night?”
Jamie turned, a wicked grin on his face. “I stayed a couple of hours. We talked. We said our good-byes. But I know that sooner or later, she’ll take me back. She always has.”
“Not this time. She wants marriage, doesn’t she? She knows you’ll never marry her. I hear she dated Jacob Butler for a while. He’s a fine man who’d make her a good husband. And I’ve been told that the new bouncer at Jazzy’s Joint is very protective of her. He’s thrown you out of the place more than once, hasn’t he?”
“Jazzy broke it off with Butler…that big, ugly Indian. And as far as Caleb McCord—she wouldn’t marry him anymore than she’d marry Butler. Neither man has what Jazzy wants.”
“And that would be?”
“Money.”
Jim snorted. “Maybe that’s what she wanted when she was sixteen and got herself pregnant with your baby, but Jazzy’s grown up and turned into a damn fine businesswoman. My guess is her priorities have changed.”
Jamie turned and glared at Jim. “Is this conversation over? I need some breakfast and a few hours’ sleep.”
Jim grabbed Jamie by the front of his fancy tuxedo shirt and hauled him closer. “Before you do anything, you find Laura and you fix things with her. You get down on your knees and beg her to forgive you, if that’s what it takes. Come Saturday, three weeks from now, you’re marrying that girl. And if you do anything—and I mean anything—to break your grandmother’s heart, I’ll break your damn fool neck. I’ve had all I’m going to take from you.”
Jamie trembled. Good, Jim thought. It’s about time I made him afraid of me. He released Jamie and shoved him toward the exit. “When you apologize to Laura, you’d better be convincing.”
Locking his gaze to Jim’s, Jamie smiled. “I didn’t spend the night with Jazzy, but I did find solace in a lovely lady’s arms. I think you might be interested in who I shared coffee and a kiss with less than half an hour ago.”
“I couldn’t care less what poor, stupid slut entertained you last night.”
“Now is that any way to talk about Erin Mercer?”
Every nerve in Jim’s body rioted, every muscle froze. “Try another lie, boy, because I don’t believe that one.”
Jamie shrugged. His grin broadened to show a set of perfect, pearly white teeth. “If you don’t believe me, call her and ask her if we didn’t share breakfast coffee and a smoldering good-bye kiss this morning.”
Balling his hands into fists to keep from hitting his grandson, Jim inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. “Get out of my sight. Now!”
Jamie laughed as he turned and sauntered lazily toward the house. Jim, who watched until the boy disappeared from view, wondered what he’d ever done to deserve a grandson like Jamie.
Sally Talbot and her best friend Ludie emerged from Jasmine’s and headed up the street toward Jones’s Market. Sally had a hankering for some catfish and she knew Jones’s was the best place in town to get fresh catfish. They bought straight from Silas Monroe, who owned a pond-raised catfish farm here in Cherokee County. When they crossed the street, Sally gathered a mouthful of tobacco juice and pursed her lips. She spit out a stream of brown liquid just as they stepped up on the sidewalk.
“I wish you’d give up that nasty habit,” Ludie said. “You’re going to wind up with cancer of the mouth, mark my word. One of these days—”
“My God, look over there…” Sally grabbed Ludie’s arm. She couldn’t believe her eyes. But sure enough, right there across the street, only half a block from Jasmine’s, a woman stood talking to Caleb McCord. A woman who looked a hell of a lot like Jazzy. A cold fear surged through Sally—a hidden fear that had plagued her for nearly thirty years.
“Where?” Ludie asked, glancing up and down the street.
“Over there by that fancy green car. I think it’s one of them Jag-u-wars. Look at that woman talking to Caleb.”
Ludie’s keen black eyes zeroed in on the woman. Ludie gasped. “Dear God in heaven. S
he looks like…she could be Jazzy’s twin. But how’s that…oh, lordy, Sally, do you think she might be—”
“Yeah, I think she just might be. And if she is, you know what that means.”
“It means our Jazzy is going to be asking a lot of questions.”
“You got that damn straight.” Sally munched on her tobacco, then spit on the sidewalk. “And just what do I tell her?”
“You could tell her the truth.”
“She might hate me.”
“She might,” Ludie replied. “But knowing our Jazzy the way I do, I figure she loves you enough to forgive you.”
“Come on.” Sally motioned to her friend. “I got to see her up close. Let’s go over there and get Caleb to introduce us. I might ask that lady a few questions before I worry too much. Maybe she don’t know—”
“If she doesn’t know she looks like Jazzy, she will soon enough. You know Caleb will tell her.”
Sally yanked on Ludie’s arm, then all but dragged her short, plump friend back across the street. As they drew near and were able to get a better look at the woman, Sally’s heart sank. This gal had to be Jazzy’s sister. Lord, help me. I had no idea there were two babies. If I’d known…
“Morning, Miss Sally.” Caleb McCord, always cordial and mannerly, nodded in his friendly way. “Miss Ludie. How are you ladies this morning?”
“We’re just fine,” Ludie replied, all the while sizing up the woman beside Caleb. “Who’s this pretty lady you got with you?”
Caleb chuckled. “Miss Ludie, Miss Sally, I’d like for y’all to meet Ms. Reve Sorrell, from Chattanooga, Tennessee.”
“Howdy do, miss.” Ludie smiled.
“What brings you to Cherokee Pointe?” Sally asked.
“I’d think that was obvious,” Caleb said. “She came here looking for a woman she was told resembled her enough to be her twin sister.”
“Well, now that you mention it, she does favor our Jazzy some, don’t she?” Sally extended her hand toward the woman. “I’m Jazzy’s Aunt Sally.”
Reve shook hands with Sally, all the while studying Sally as if she’d put her under a microscope for close scrutiny. “I met your niece and I agree that we do look a bit alike, but—”
Beg to Die Page 4