Thunderous applause erupted in the room. Patrice was so happy she began to blush.
Once the response died down, Patrice continued. “Now, on to the really good part. All of you have seen him and most of you have at least spoken to him in passing. Let me introduce to you the man behind the fragrance who is going to introduce us to the world, Mr. Jacques Germain,” Patrice said, clapping her hands, the staff following along with her.
Jacques stood and walked to the front as he received the applause. He held his hand up to politely quiet them.
“What’s the name of it?” someone shouted out.
Jacques pressed the button on the remote control in his hand to show them a PowerPoint presentation. Two of the employees passed a small tray with a stack of blotters that held the scent on them, so that each person could take one.
The sketched photo of the new fragrance, Allure No. 6, flashed on the wall with the sound of an acoustic guitar filling the room.
Patrice walked slowly around the room as the members of her staff smelled their newest product. She wanted to capture their responses to help them decide whether or not they needed to continue to tweak the formula.
“This smells really good,” she heard one person say.
“What do you think, ladies? Do you like it?” Jacques asked.
There was a loud chorus of “yes,” “beautiful,” “wonderful.”
Patrice had the broadest smile on her face. Chills ran up and down her spine as she was witnessing a life-changing moment. Her gaze went to Jacques’s who was smiling more today than she’d ever seen since she met him. He seemed to be standing a bit taller and taking in all the responses.
Patrice headed back to the front and as she walked by she heard two girls talking.
“This smells good.”
The other lady leaned closer. “And he is fine,” she said. Her voice wasn’t light enough for her to whisper since Patrice heard every word.
He might be fine, but he’s mine.
Patrice stood next to him. He leaned over and whispered, “I have never experienced anything like this before. As many big events as I’ve taken part in with Fairchild, this one is special. I really feel like I’m a part of something,” Jacques said.
When it came to Jacques, Patrice was happy that she’d made a difference in his life. He definitely impacted hers and she’d never forget it.
Patrice stepped forward. “I want all of you to be a part of this,” she said with outstretched arms. “Everybody is going to benefit. If you’re patient and stay with us for the long haul, I promise you that it will be worth it.”
She started walking back and forth in front of the crowd. “Now, in closing, I want to dispel the little rumors I’ve been hearing about Jacques and me,” she said before stopping suddenly. “It is true, he is my Valentine.”
At first you couldn’t hear a pin drop in the room. Patrice glanced at the two women she’d heard earlier before she burst into laughter.
“Ladies and gentleman that’s all we have for you today. Thank you so much and have a great and productive day.”
The meeting was adjourned, but the atmosphere was electric. As the people were leaving the area, Patrice moved closer to Jacques. “What did you think about the presentation?”
“I was sure they would be receptive, but their responses were overwhelming. I think you have some good people here.” Jacques pulled her into his arms.
* * * * *
When Patrice got back to her office there was a message from Nikki saying that she was being released.
Patrice went to the lab to tell Jacques. “I’m going to pick up Nikki from the hospital. But I still want you to come over. Maybe we can do something to celebrate today.”
“Okay, babe, that sounds good. I have to get a haircut and a shave and then I’ll be over.”
She left the building and went straight to the hospital. Patrice didn’t have to wait long for the nurse to wheel Nikki out to the car. She got out to help her inside. For the first few minutes of the ride they rode in silence.
Finally Patrice said, “Baby girl, how are you feeling?”
“Oh, I’m okay,” Nikki responded in a whisper, nodding her head as if she were trying to convince herself.
“Are you hungry?” Patrice asked.
“No, I had lunch.”
“I can imagine what a hospital lunch must have been like,” Patrice chuckled. She was trying to make light of the situation, but it didn’t seem to be working.
“Yeah, you know it, but it was okay,” Nikki said before turning toward Patrice. “How’s Katrina?”
“She’s fine, she’s at my mom’s house. As a matter of fact, we’re going by to pick her up now.”
Patrice glanced over at Nikki staring at her. She could see the glaze of tears in her eyes. “I can’t go back to that apartment.”
“Okay, Nikki.”
“No, you don’t understand. I had a nightmare last night. It was horrible.”
Patrice was sure that after what Nikki had endured, having a nightmare wouldn’t be out of the ordinary.
“Patrice, I dreamed that Terrance tried to kill me.”
Reaching over, Patrice patted Nikki’s arm. “Oh, don’t you worry about that,” she said. She realized that Nikki had gone through a lot and wanted to help settle her down as quickly as possible. “I had no intentions of taking you back to your apartment,” she said, giving her a slight smile.
Nikki shook her head. “Where will I stay? I don’t really have any money.”
“You needn’t worry about that. You’ll be staying with me until you’re fully recuperated.”
“Oh, I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t impose on you. You’ve done so much for me already.”
“It is the only safe and sensible thing to do until we get you away from here. By the way, my mother has people working on trying to locate your father,” she announced turning onto her parents’ street.
“I don’t even know if my father’s alive,” Nikki said, turning to stare out the window.
“Nikki, let’s not jump to conclusions. We’ll have to wait and see what they uncover. You told me that your father’s name was Leroy Howard. Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s be patient because you just never know,” Patrice said as they rolled alongside the curb in front of her parents’ spacious home.
“Stay here, I’ll go get Katrina. It should only take a few minutes.” Patrice got out of the car and went inside.
“Momma, I’m here,” Patrice said, walking toward the kitchen.
Katrina was sitting at the kitchen table eating macaroni and cheese with a spoon.
“Oh, I didn’t know she was left handed,” Patrice said to her mother who was standing at the kitchen sink, cutting up some chicken quarters.
“She does really good to be so small,” Myra said, glancing at the toddler with a grin on her face. She looked back at Patrice. “So how is Nikki?”
“She’s fine, she’s out in the car. She’s going to stay with me for a few days.”
“I’m sure little Katrina will be happy to see her mommy,” Myra said.
“Momma, any progress on locating—”
“Her dad?” Myra added before Patrice could say it.
Patrice nodded.
“No, but there are good people working on it,” Myra said. She turned to Patrice and hugged her. “We’re going to get through this and that young lady is going to be just fine.”
“I truly hope so, Momma. I really feel for her.”
“You don’t need to feel for her. You need to do exactly what you’re doing. I think that sometimes feeling sorry for folks are a wasted emotion. What can they do with pity?”
Patrice looked away and Myra moved her head back so that they could look at each other.
�
��Listen to Mommy. You will impact this girl’s life, Treecie. You are helping her, so don’t feel like your hands are tied. I’m very proud of you, baby.”
“Thanks Momma and I appreciate you helping her as well.”
“If you need me to keep this sweet little one again, I’d be more than happy to do it,” Myra said, turning back to her task.
“What about her husband?”
“You mean her boyfriend. They aren’t married,” Patrice said, correcting her mother’s statement.
Myra threw her hand forward. “Okay, then fine. Have they picked his ass up?” she asked, under her breath, low enough so the child couldn’t hear her.
Patrice tried not to laugh at the animated look her mother had just given her. “I haven’t heard anything so far, but it’s a matter of time,” she said, giving her mother a big hug. “I’d better get out of here, I left Nikki in the car.” Patrice walked over and snapped a paper towel from the dispenser and wet it before going over to clean Katrina’s hands so they could get her coat on.
Chapter Eighteen
The barber splashed aftershave on both hands, wiped them together and lightly rubbed Jacques’s face. He unsnapped the cape, and whisked him off with a talcum-filled brush. Jacques eased out of the chair, straightened his pants and pulled them up as he examined his haircut and shave again in the big mirror. He fished out several bills and handed it to his barber.
“Thanks, my man,” the barber said. “And remember for as long as you’re in Chicago I’ll take care of your grooming needs.”
“I appreciate it, Mr. Clark,” Jacques said before he shook the older man’s hand. His sister had told him about the guy who cuts one of her friend’s hair. Jacques liked the atmosphere of the barbershop and most of all he liked Mr. Clark.
Jimmy Clark had been in the Bronzeville community for over fifty years. Everyone who came into the shop had been coming there to get their hair cut since they were young. Now they were men and were bringing their own little boys to Mr. Clark for service.
Jacques grabbed his coat from the rack and put it on. Donned in his black apple cap that fit looser now, he stepped out into the Chicago night. Inside the car, he turned on the satellite radio to a smooth jazz station before he decided to call Patrice.
“Where you at, girl?”
“I just walked in the apartment. Can’t talk now, I’ve got to go to the bathroom.”
“I’m on my way,” he managed to say before the call dropped.
Jacques laughed looking at himself in the rearview mirror. “That’s my girl,” he said. “Oh, I forgot to ask her if she wants something to eat. I’ll just go on over and we can order out.”
Jacques pulled into an empty space and got out of the car. He hit the intercom and Patrice buzzed him in. He was excited because they were going to spend an intimate evening together. When Jacques walked into the apartment, he saw little Katrina sitting on the end of the sofa watching television. Now, he was confused because Patrice hadn’t mentioned anything about her having the little girl.
Patrice walked over to him.
“Uh,” he gestured toward the girl. “Where is her mother?” Jacques asked.
“She’s in the back resting.”
Jacques was taken aback. He didn’t remove his coat, he just sat in the nearest empty seat.
“Take your coat off, you are staying, aren’t you?” Patrice asked.
Jacques didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but he hadn’t planned on babysitting tonight. He wanted to be with his girl.
“Yes, I’m staying. I–I thought we were going to spend the evening together,” he said, taking his hat off, handing it to Patrice.
“Well, I have to help this girl as much as possible.”
Jacques muttered under his breath as he slipped his coat off.
Patrice took Jacques’s coat and as she was hanging it in the closet, she said,
“Jacques you’re not getting clingy, are you?” she said jokingly, sauntering back over to the couch.
Rubbing the line of Jacques’s fresh haircut, she asked. “What’s the matter, big boy?”
Jacques sat quietly ignoring Patrice and the statement she’d made. He stared at the cartoon on television just like Katrina.
“So, you’re into Sponge Bob, Square Pants now?”
Jacques stood to his feet and placed his hand underneath Patrice’s elbow. He guided her toward the kitchen so they wouldn’t be talking in front of the child. “I’m sorry, Patrice, I’m a little disappointed. After today’s events, we were supposed to be celebrating. I just really wanted to spend a quiet evening with you.”
Patrice opened her mouth then closed it. Jacques didn’t mind because he didn’t want their back and forth to get out of hand.
Fifteen minutes later, Jacques decided to go home. They were sitting together quietly, but he didn’t want to be squeezing Patrice’s hips or placing his hands between her legs with Katrina sitting on the couch with them. Then, Patrice kept getting up to check on Nikki who was sleeping each time she went. It was time to go, so he got his coat and hat and headed for the door.
Patrice followed him. “Jacques, I’m sorry,” she said.
“In all the excitement, I forgot to share some other good news with you,” Jacques said, fiddling with his cap.
“What?”
“My sister sold my apartment and found a house for me. I would like for you to see it on Monday before I close on it.”
“That’s great,” she said, reaching for his hand and squeezing it gently. “Wow, this is like a dream,” Patrice said.
“What do you mean?” Jacques asked.
“All of these great things happening for us.”
“Yes, it does seem like our connection is producing very positive energy.”
“I really hate that you have to go, Jacques,” Patrice said, stepping closer to him.
“I think you need to see about your guests and you can’t do that with me in the way,” Jacques replied with his hand on the door.
“You’re not in the way. I’m glad that you came,” she said before placing a kiss on his cheek.
“I’ll call you later. Have a good night,” Jacques said.
Walking down the hall, headed to his car, Jacques wondered if tonight was the start of things to come. He hoped not.
* * * * *
When Jacques got up on Sunday morning, he called Patrice to see if she wanted to go to brunch. He was sure that she was up already and if he called her now, it would give him plenty of time to get dressed.
He had her number on speed dial and pressed the button to call her.
“Hi babe,” Patrice said when she answered.
“What’s going on?” Jacques asked.
“Nothing much, how are you?”
“I was calling to see if you wanted to go out to brunch with me today.”
“Jacques, I’m sorry, I know that you were kind of disappointed last night. I was going to take Nikki over to her place to pick up the rest of her things.”
“To her place?” Jacques didn’t like the sound of that at all.
“Yes, to her place.”
Jacques didn’t say anything because he knew that Patrice was going to do whatever she wanted to do anyway.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He hesitated before speaking. At first he wasn’t going to say anything, but then decided to give his opinion. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. Did they pick this man up yet?”
“Yes, in fact Nikki got a phone call informing her that he had been arrested. They probably won’t hold him long, but he’s in custody. Now is the best time to get the rest of her things.”
“How long is she going to be staying with you?”
“Just until we get her into a safe place, preferably out of Chicago.”
“Okay,”
Jacques replied. He wondered if that were really true or was it the best answer Patrice could come up with at the time.
“Jacques please be patient while we work this out.”
“Yeah, sure, Patrice, I’ll be patient,” he said dryly. “But I have to tell you I’m a little possessive.”
“I’m beginning to see that,” Patrice replied.
“I’ll talk to you later,” Jacques said, ending the call.
* * * * *
Patrice drove Nikki over to her apartment. The couple lived in a decent three-flat apartment building on the South Side of Chicago. By the looks of the area, Patrice could tell that there were many working class families that lived there. She followed Nikki up the stone steps and watched as Nikki kept dropping her keys trying to unlock the door. Patrice assumed that it must have been her nerves. She stepped a bit closer to her and whispered, “Why don’t you let me try, Nikki?”
Nikki handed Patrice the key. She pushed it into the lock, turned the knob and opened the door. Stepping back, Patrice allowed Nikki to walk inside first and she followed behind, holding Katrina’s small hand.
Nikki opened a narrow door near the front and pulled out a large blue suitcase. She went into the next room, which from the pretty night lamp on the little table by the door, Patrice suspected was Katrina’s.
While Nikki gathered their things in the huge suitcase, she and Katrina sat in the living room. Patrice scanned the room which was not a large space, but cozy. She saw Nikki dart out of one room and then hurry into another. Patrice wondered if her movements were too erratic or was that the way she acted when she was rushing. She’d keep her eye on her just the same.
Patrice continued her assessment of the tiny apartment, which was very neat and clean. The brown couch and chair were made of microfiber paired with the cocktail and side tables, which looked like something from the early seventies. The throw rug underneath looked like it had seen better days, yet it was still in good condition.
Be My Valentine: The McClendon Holiday Series, Book 3 Page 17