by Chanta Rand
********
Gatesville Women’s Penitentiary was located two and half hours from Houston. Actually comprised five women’s prisons, Gatesville was rumored to have over one hundred thousand acres. The Crain Unit, its largest prison, housed over fifteen hundred inmates. The prison had a long and colorful history in Texas. In the mid-1800s, female prisoners were housed in the Huntsville Unit in Huntsville, Texas. Then in 1883, they were moved to the Johnson Farm, a privately-owned cotton plantation near Huntsville. Around 1907, the governor of Texas moved the women to Eastham Farm to try to protect them from predatory prison guards and what basically amounted to slave labor, with women serving as domestic servants and sharecroppers. Amidst complaints of sexual abuse – some women were impregnated by the guards and forced to work until the day of delivery, often giving birth in the fields – the female inmates were finally moved from Eastham to Gatesville, Texas.
Jewell parked at the main entrance to the Crain Unit. The 174-bed unit housed pregnant, elderly, and mentally retarded female inmates. Jewell was well aware of the statistics. But today, she was concerned with only one occupant. Forty minutes, two metal detectors, and one body search later, she was finally able to enter Region VI of the unit to see her sister’s face.
Cameron looked haggard. Twelve years in here had taken its toll. Jewell knew most of the inmates worked seven hours per day. Maybe that was why her sister appeared to be so tired. Or maybe it was just the dark crescent marks under both eyes that made her look older than her thirty-six years. Even her normally long, curly hair was now cut short and had lost most of its luster.
“What brings you here, dear sister?” Cameron sneered sarcastically.
“Well, hello to you, too.”
She sat back in the metal chair and crossed her arms over the top of her orange colored prison jumpsuit. “Well, your visits have become far less frequent, so I figure you come bearing bad news. Forgive me if I don’t get all choked up.”
Cameron had a point there. Jewell visited her about four times a year, and she sent her a care package occasionally. Andy stopped coming when he was around ten. Cameron never wrote or showed any interest in her son, so Jewell really couldn’t blame Andy for forgoing the scenic road trip.
She jumped right in. “I’m having some trouble with a client. She found out you were incarcerated, and she’s threatened to go public and expose my personal life. I’m just giving you a heads-up to be prepared for some additional press,” Jewell advised. “In fact, your case may open again as a result.”
“Shit!” Cameron hissed. “That’s just what I don’t need, girl. I’m coming up for a parole hearing. I don’t need the extra publicity.”
Jewell pursed her lips. This was just like Cameron. She didn’t ask Jewell if she was okay or how Andy was doing. All she did was worry about herself.
Why did I even bother coming here?
Because I love her, and she and Andy are all the family I have.
“At any rate,” Jewell continued. “Portia will stop at nothing to get what she wants. I’m not even sure she’ll honor the agreement we made.”
“Portia?”
“Portia Rothchild.”
Even for those locked behind bars, the Rothchild name was famous. It was synonymous with privilege, style, and of course, wealth.
“Damn girl, what have you gotten yourself into? Hanging out with the rich and famous. Must be nice.”
Jewell told her everything, from the day Portia hired her to this morning’s phone call.
Cameron laughed, and for a brief moment, she was the big sister Jewell worshipped from birth to middle school – before Cameron had shown her dark side. “This is better than General Hospital. And here I thought I was the bad girl in the family.”
Jewell couldn’t help but smile at that one. “I’m not bad Cameron.”
“You just got caught up in the moment.”
“Yes.”
“And lost all common sense.”
“No.”
“Oh, you knew what you were doing and you didn’t care? You wanted to do it?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Jewell admitted. She wanted to feel Mason inside her. Feel his strong arms wrapped around her. She could have stopped it, but she didn’t.
“And it felt good and you didn’t think about the consequences.”
“Right.”
“Kinda like me.”
Jewell stopped and stared at her sister. “Yes, kind of like you. But I didn’t break any laws.”
“That’s not how Portia sees it. And in this case, she’s judge and jury.”
Jewell nodded her head. If this were a real court, Portia would already have her tried and sentenced. “So, my next stop is to see Mason, but if I don’t succeed…”
“So, let me see if I understand this correctly. If you don’t get Mason to agree to marry Portia, she’ll basically destroy your life.”
“Precisely.”
Cameron rolled her eyes. “I really don’t see how she can hurt you.”
“Are you crazy? Did you hear anything I just said?”
She uncrossed her arms and leaned forward. Her best feature, amber eyes with flecks of brown, narrowed. “I heard it all. I’m not the crazy one. Portia’s the one missing a few wrenches from her toolbox. If you think about it, you really don’t have anything to lose, Jewell. Number one, I’m already in prison. It can’t get any worse for me. Number two, you’re always bitching about your work anyway. You said you want to sell the business and become a writer. Well, this is one hell of a story to tell. Of course, you’d have to change all the names to protect the guilty. Number three, Andy doesn’t need Portia’s endorsement to get into Julliard. If the kid is as talented as you say, he’ll have no trouble. So what, if he has to get wait-listed? That’s life. We sit around waiting for shit to happen sometimes. If we always got everything we wanted right away, the world would be pretty damn boring.”
Jewell looked at her sister. For the first time in a long time, she made sense. “I never thought I’d be saying this, but thanks for the advice.”
“You’re welcome.” She shrugged her slender shoulders. “You always did worry too much. And besides, if you don’t convince Mason to marry Portia, all the better for you.”
“Why would you say that?”
“I see the way your eyes glass over and your face lights up when you talk about him. Even your body language changed.”
Jewell waved her off. “Since when did you become such an expert on body language?”
“It’s part of my degree plan. I’m studying for my Bachelor’s in Business Management. I have to take two communications classes. Body Language was one I chose.”
Jewell was genuinely proud of her sister and she told her so.
“Yeah, well what else am I gonna do in this shithole? May as well get educated.”
Jewell gave her a sad smile. “I’m sure Andy will be proud of you too. Why don’t you write him and tell him yourself? I think he’d love to hear it straight from you.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” The old Cameron returned, her tough exterior bullying her sensitive side back into hiding. “I don’t want the kid worrying about his jailbird mother. I may never get out of here and I can’t have him visiting me, seeing me in these conditions. I want him to remember me the way I was before I got in prison.”
“He was two years old. I don’t think any of us can remember that far back.”
“You’re a better mother to him than I could ever be. And better than our own sorry ass excuse for a mother. Maybe if she’d shown me one tenth of the affection you show Andy, I wouldn’t be in here today.”
This was one of the rare times Jewell agreed with her sister. Their mama never had a kind word for her daughters. “Yeah, maybe.” Their lives were full of maybes.
Cameron looked at the clock on the putty colored wall. “My time is up,” she announced. “I have a class in thirty minutes.” She stood, signaling the guard. “And by the way, don’t be afraid of Portia. In
here, I’ve dealt with characters a lot scarier than her. She controls her own little corner of her world. Don’t let her control yours.”
EIGHT
Mason sliced his porter house steak. His cloth napkin was laid neatly across his lap. He’d only had one glass of wine. He smiled to himself. Jewell would be proud. Before he met her, he hadn’t thought he needed any polishing up. But now, he would concede, she had taught him a thing or two. Well, maybe more than two. More like a dozen or so things. Today, he was showing off his new-found manners by having lunch with his friend and business client, Walter McCullough.
“You’re certainly in a good mood,” Walt remarked.
Mason finished chewing before speaking. “I’m just enjoying my steak.”
“Sure, sure.” Walt stroked his graying goatee. “And you’re drinking red wine. The last time I saw you drink wine was…never.”
“There’s something to be said for guilty pleasures.”
Walt pulled the tablecloth aside and peeped under the table. “And you’re wearing– dear God, are those what I think they are? Slacks!”
Mason chuckled. “Calm down. You’re making a scene.”
Walt shrugged. “I’m wondering if I’m looking at some clone who replaced Mason Kincaid. What’s with the new duds?”
“A man can’t change up his style once in a while?”
Walt held up his hands in surrender. “My bad. You can wear whatever you want. Just give a fella more advance notice next time. I might want to wear my slippers and smoking jacket,” he mocked.
Walt was six-foot-six, three hundred and ten pounds. The thought of him wearing a pair of delicate slippers was hilarious. Mason wagged a finger at him. “Smoking jackets are only worn in the privacy of your own home. And by the way, smoking is socially unacceptable. You need to give up that nasty habit.”
Walt’s jaw dropped. “This is Portia’s doing, I know it.”
“Naw, Walt. Portia has nothing to do with this.” Mason looked around and lowered his voice. Walt was one of Mason’s oldest friends. He trusted the man with his life and his secrets. “I’ve met someone. Someone totally unlike Portia.”
Walt grew serious, his eyebrows knitted together in worry. “Someone unlike Portia? Who the hell is it?”
“A very special lady. She’s my new image consultant.”
“You hired an image consultant?”
“I didn’t hire her. Portia did. For the wedding.”
Realization dawned on Walt’s face as he apparently digested these words. “Uh, hold on a sec. Let me see if I can wrap my head around this. Your fiancée hired an image consultant for your wedding. And now, you’ve hooked up with this woman?”
Mason nodded. “That about sums it up.”
“So, how long have you been seeing her?”
“I’m not really seeing her. We have this incredible connection. It’s so strong, it’s made me think twice about marrying Portia.”
“Damn! Was the sex that good?”
“It’s more than sex, Walt. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”
Walt gave a low whistle. “Man, this is serious.”
Mason let out a deep breath. “Yeah, I know. I just need time to think.” He stared at his steak. Suddenly, his meal didn’t seem so appetizing anymore. He was fully aware of his duty to the family. For years, he’d been satisfied with his role. But now, just being satisfied wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He wanted Jewell. He’d been going through life wearing blinders. But Jewell had shown him a new side of life. She’d shown him the promise of what could be. A life filled with love. A love filled with passion. “I just can’t make a commitment to Portia right now.”
“You’re playing a dangerous game, man. What about your great-grandfather’s will?” He’d known Walt since high school, and Walt knew everything about him, including the codicil in Grandpa Benson’s will.
Mason shrugged. “Like I said, I just need some time to think.”
“Well you have exactly forty-eight hours.”
“You think I’m nuts, huh?”
Walt took a sip of his ice water. “I think you’re a man who knows what he wants. I’ve never known you to act rashly on anything. If you’re having second thoughts, I encourage you to carefully consider the pros and cons of what you’re doing. In the end, you have to make yourself happy, ‘cause you can’t please everyone.”
The rattle of Mason’s cell phone caught his attention. A text message from Jewell flashed across the screen.
If you’re not too busy, can we meet ASAP?
He tried to appear cool on the outside, but inside, his body temperature soared like a furnace in August. It was good to hear from Jewell, especially after she’d left in the middle of the night.
He replied back. Never too busy for you. See you in one hour.
He put his phone away and looked up to see Walt staring at him.
“That was her, wasn’t it?”
Mason grinned. “Yeah, how’d you know?”
Walt leaned back in his chair and folded his massive arms across his chest. “You’re in big trouble, man.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I wish you had a mirror so you could have seen the look on your face. It was pure unadulterated joy. Your eyes lit up like a fireworks display.”
Mason pulled out his wallet and laid the cash for both meals on the table. “You don’t mind if we cut this short, do you?”
“Not at all,” Walt answered. “I can see you’re anxious to go meet up with her. Just do me a favor.”
“What’s that?”
“Try not to skip on your way out.”
Mason stood and threw his napkin at Walt. “Aw, shut the hell up.”
Mason heard Walt’s deep chuckle as he quickly left the restaurant. It was okay. Nothing would ruin this moment. Jewell was waiting for him. Nothing else mattered.
********
Mason made it to the Roof Garden an hour later. Through text, he’d agreed to meet Jewell at the bar. When he entered the dimly lit bar, he immediately spotted her sitting on a leather-cushioned stool. Her bare legs were elegantly crossed beneath a cream colored skirt, a glimpse of her taut thighs peeped through the tasteful split up one side. His eyes jumped to the leopard patterned pumps she wore, and quickly traveled upward to her firm backside. Her back was to him, so she didn’t see him approach.
“Hello beautiful.” He announced.
She turned, giving him a startled look as if she’d been deep in thought. “Hello Mason. Thank you for meeting me on such short notice.”
“My pleasure.” She looked damn good. An image of those bare legs flashed through his mind. Last night in the barn, she’d wrapped those maple-colored legs around him and brought him to his knees, literally. He’d lain there for hours after he woke up and realized she was gone. He wanted to savor the memory of her kiss. The sounds of her deep purrs of contentment. The feel of her warm hands massaging his erection. He cleared his head. It took all of his strength not to pull her into his arms right here in the middle of the bar. She was wearing that red lipstick that accentuated her full lips. He leaned in, prepared to kiss her, but she turned away, offering her cheek instead.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Portia called me. She said you called off the wedding.”
Mason sat on the bar stool next to her. “That’s right.” He wasn’t ready to talk about this right now, but Jewell was bound to find out at some point. Might as well be now.
“You have to go through with it, Mason. You made a commitment to Portia. Not only that. Hundreds of people will be there.”
Mason frowned. He didn’t like the tone of Jewell’s voice. It was cold and matter-of-fact, like she was reading the label of ingredients on a can of soup. “To hell with those people. I don’t even know them, and I don’t give a damn what they think of me. They’re all people Portia is trying desperately to impress. My guest list consists of less than twenty people. My friends and family will accept m
e regardless of who I’m married to.”
“What about your grandfather’s will?” she pressed. “You’ll be disowned.”
He shrugged. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
“C’mon, Mason. Who are you kidding?”
He clasped her hands in his. “I care about you, Jewell. I don’t need my grandfather’s wealth or his approval. I want to make something of my life with you.”
Her eyes grew wide; shock and anguish distorted her pretty features. “Are you serious?”
“I’m putting my future on the line. Of course I’m serious.” He took a deep breath. Maybe he was acting prematurely, but it all felt so right with Jewell. He had to put it out there. He had to let her know how he felt. And God help him, he had to know if she felt the same. “You touched something deep inside me, Jewell. All these years, I thought I knew what I wanted. Then I met you. You gave me a taste of something…better.” He shook his head defiantly. “I can’t go back to being the old Mason. Whether you want to be with me or not, my life as I know it has drastically changed. You made me over – inside and out.” He cupped her face between his hands. “I’d feel a whole lot better knowing you were by my side along for the ride.”
He waited for her response, his eyes searching hers for some sign of assent.
“Mason, if you care at all for me, you’ll do this. You must marry Portia.”
He squinted at her, then dropped his hands in his lap. “Woman, are you nuts?”
I just poured my heart out to you and this is how you react?
“I’m not crazy. But Portia is.” She slammed her fist into the bar’s marble countertop. “And if you don’t marry her, she’ll destroy me!”
A feeling of dread kicked at his gut. Something wasn’t right. Jewell wasn’t normally prone to hysterics. “Mind telling me what the hell is going on, Jewell?” Her normally perfect lips were set in a grim frown. “Why are you so fired up for me to get married?”
Mason listened as Jewell told him about the conversation she’d had with Portia. He could barely hide his disgust when she revealed that Portia had been spying on them. The fact that she’d threatened to ruin Jewell’s business and prevent Andy from getting into Julliard turned his stomach. His family was just as rich and powerful as Portia’s, but they would never use their wealth for evil purposes.