When she returned to her office, Sienna closed the door and slumped against it, clamping her hand to her chest.
What had she just done?
She closed her eyes and took a couple of deep, calming breaths.
How many times over the last several months had she prayed for the chance to prove her worth? One shot. That’s all she needed. Well, she had the mother of all shots now.
Just this morning, no one could have predicted how important Aria Jordan’s account would become to the future of MDF, Inc. When Sienna had been asked to take over the account for Jamie, she had been elated for the simple fact that she was finally entrusted with her own account again instead of playing assistant to one of the senior executives.
The senior partners had been afraid to give her another chance after the multimillion-dollar account she’d landed within her first month on the job had fallen through. It had not been her fault. The company had decided to leave the Gulf South because of its penchant for hurricanes, only to move to the West Coast’s even more unpredictable earthquakes. When would people understand that you could not outrun Mother Nature, no matter where you tried to escape?
But last year’s snag was a thing of the past. Within the span of a few hours everything about her career had changed. Drastically.
As she sat at her desk contemplating the responsibility on her shoulders, Sienna feared she was in danger of losing it once again. The biggest account the company could ever hope for was riding on how well she performed, and she’d offered up her job as collateral!
“Lord, help me,” Sienna murmured.
Gathering the articles she’d printed from the Internet on the demographics of the New Orleans radio listening area, Sienna grabbed her purse and locked up her office. She had a long night of non-recreational reading ahead of her. She also had to find a killer dress for Friday night.
Toby may have used the fact that since Aria was now her client, she needed to see her in action, but Sienna was not born yesterday. He was going to try to hook her up with his old college friend.
The idiot. He was so blind; he couldn’t see what was right in front of him.
Or, maybe he did see it. And trying to set her up with Jonathan was his way of letting her know that she could forget about anything between them.
Sienna brushed that thought off with a wave of her hand. Toby had always been clueless about how she felt about him. Probably always would be.
Sienna suspected that Toby still saw her as that shy, skinny, freakishly-tall-for-her-age girl who used to play ball with him on their elementary school’s old basketball court. He had yet to recognize the grown woman she had become. She should just get over him and find someone who would appreciate her as an attractive, successful, self-sufficient woman.
The thought alone scared her to death.
Sienna swallowed past the lump that inevitably lodged in her throat whenever her mind decided to dredge up memories she would pay any price to keep buried. For most of her adult life, Sienna had speculated about why she was so hung up on Toby. She supposed she already knew the answer.
Toby was safe. As long as she continued to pine for what would never be, she didn’t have to confront the reality she was too afraid to face.
After that incident with Curtis Henderson, Sienna wasn’t sure she could ever have a normal relationship with a man. It was a depressing thought, but one she was beginning to accept. The couple of guys she’d dated in college hardly counted, and the one blind date she’d had last year had been a disaster. Intimacy, on almost any level, scared her to death.
Sienna pushed those awful thoughts from her mind. She had enough on her brain with this new account. She did not need the added stress of her demons coming back to haunt her.
She reached her car and slid behind the wheel, throwing her purse on the passenger seat. As she did so, her father’s favorite warning rang in her ears. Warren Culpepper had warned the women in his life about not inviting trouble, and in his book, a purse lying so visible to the public was equivalent to having a “Steal Me” sign strapped across the front of it. Sienna was in no mood to play the victim. She stashed the purse under the front seat.
She drove the quick ten minutes to the wood frame house her grandmother had left her in the lower Faurbourg Marigny. In recent years, the small neighborhood just down the river from the French Quarter had become a hub of trendy restaurants and live music spots, but somehow maintained a close-knit sense of community. Sienna had always loved this neighborhood, with its collection of old, Creole-style cottages butted up against each other. She had spent more time here than at her own home when she was growing up.
Her close relationship with her grandmother had always been a sore spot between Sienna and her mother. Sylvia had been ashamed of her upbringing, and a mother she labeled as being too “common” and uncouth. Sienna had been in awe of her Granny Elise. To Sienna, she had performed miracles with her meager means, providing food for the hungry, and sewing clothing for the neighborhood’s less fortunate. She was the type of mother most people would be proud to have.
Of course, her mother was not most people. She’d encouraged Sienna to sell the house, claiming she wanted to finally get the atrocity out of the family. It had given Sienna an absurd amount of pleasure to move into the old house, despite her mother’s wishes.
Sienna smiled to herself as she thought about the termites she’d discovered hiding in the walls of the living room soon after she’d moved in. She’d cursed the pests to hell after receiving the fifteen hundred dollar estimate from the exterminator. If not for the termites, Sienna would never have put most of Granny Elise’s most precious possessions in storage, and they would be lost forever.
Even though water from the breeched levees caused by Hurricane Katrina did not threaten the house, the high winds had blown away most of her roof. Sienna had been one of the very lucky ones in this city, her grandmother having added extra hurricane insurance when she still owned the house. Nearly all of the repairs had been covered. And the termites had been blown away, too.
Sienna walked through the side door that led to the kitchen, setting her purse and car keys on the counter. She kicked her shoes off in the small alcove between the refrigerator and stove. She looked in the refrigerator for something to drink and came out with a nearly empty pitcher.
Opening the floor to ceiling pantry, Sienna searched for the powdered ice tea mix while mentally going through the list of takeout places she had already ordered from this week. She wasn’t in the mood for Mexican, and had eaten Chinese the night before. Pizza would do, but it didn’t have the appeal it usually did.
For some unknown reason, she felt like eating…real food. She wanted red beans and rice, or maybe baked chicken and mashed potatoes. Cautiously, she turned her gaze toward the cabinet that held the pots and pans. The last time she had even opened it was a few weeks ago when she had contemplated grits one morning, only to visit the drive-thru at McDonald’s for an Egg McMuffin.
It was a shame, indeed. This kitchen had birthed more delectable meals than most people ate in their entire lifetime. Her grandmother had taught her more than her fair share of recipes, and if she put her mind to it, Sienna knew she could probably whip something up.
Sienna’s lips thinned with annoyance as she conjured the image of Toby standing in her office, licking his lips. He was the one who had her feeling guilty about not carrying on the tradition of her grandmother’s cooking.
Maybe she could…
Nah. Cooking would require time and effort, two things she could not devote to food tonight. She had something bigger on her plate. She had to find a way to make Aria Jordan a star.
Closing the pantry door, Sienna headed for the phone. Pizza Hut was on speed dial.
Chapter Six
“So, man, are you ready for tonight?”
Standing at the mirror in the bathroom of Jonathan’s St. Charles Avenue condominium, Toby finished buttoning the last of the buttons on his shirt, then went t
o work on the two at his wrists.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?”
“I’m cool as ice. I know everything is going to be perfect,” Jonathan said as he moved away from the door and into the bathroom. He picked up the bottle of moisturizer and squirted a dime size amount into his palm, rubbed his hands together then smoothed them over his close cut hair.
“This bathroom isn’t big enough for the both of us,” Toby said. “And, not trying to jinx you or anything, but how do you know everything is going to go off without a hitch?”
“I prayed for it,” Jonathan said. “Works every time.”
“I can’t argue with that. I need to remember that I have that option.”
“That’s the only option that matters.”
“I know. I know. Have you been hanging around with my mom or something?”
“She’s a smart woman.”
“A smart woman who can also cook. She wants you to come over for dinner tomorrow night.”
“I’m there.” Jonathan glanced at his watch. “It’s almost that time. I need to get down to the club.”
Toby held out his hand, and when Jonathan grabbed it, he pulled his friend close and patted him on the back.
“It’s going to be good,” he said.
“I feel it,” Jonathan said, reciprocating the embrace. “And don’t worry about Aria. She’s about to blow up. I’m just lucky she’s using my place as her starting ground.”
Once Jonathan left, Toby turned back to the mirror. Gripping the sides of the bathroom counter, he stared hard at his reflection. Sometimes he was unsure he even knew the person staring back at him. The life he now lived was so drastically different from what he had envisioned.
How had he ended up here? What made him think he could succeed in the music industry? He didn’t know a damn thing about music. Yet, here he was. About to launch a star.
Was it just a lucky break?
Did it even matter?
Luck or not, all that should matter is that with the right marketing strategy and enough exposure, Aria Jordan could be the next big thing. He was due. He’d had enough unlucky breaks in his life.
Unlucky breaks. He knew about those, didn’t he?
Toby nearly laughed out loud. It was either that or put his fist through the mirror. He didn’t care what anybody said, he was still bitter. He missed playing basketball. He missed the rush he got when he ran out onto the court at the start of the game, high-fiving his teammates. He ached to experience, just one more time, the crowd’s excitement when he slam-dunked the ball over an opponent’s head. He used to live for that stuff. Now, every time Toby thought about the accident his resentment was reinforced.
But he was not thinking about the accident. Not tonight.
Tonight was the start of a new beginning. He was strong. Resilient. Tonight, the lemons in his life would finally start to make some sweet tasting lemonade. And he was ready to drink it up.
Nervous excitement caused a shiver to race down Toby’s back. He could barely grip the razor.
In less than a week, circumstances had radically changed. Lord knows he had not prayed as much as he should have, but somebody must have been looking out for him all the same. It was too perfect to be coincidence. Having Marshall Kellerman spot Aria right before the opening of Jonathan’s club was an act of God. Her performance tonight was mutually beneficial to both of them. Jonathan’s advertising was certain to bring in a huge crowd, and Aria’s performance, which Toby had no doubt would be stellar, would bring subsequent business to the Hard Court. It was perfect.
And with Sienna’s brilliance behind it all…
Sienna had impressed the heck out of him. He should not be surprised. Sienna excelled at whatever she put her mind to. It had always been that way. But it was still funny to see little Cee Cee play the grown-up professional.
And, damn, but she had grown.
Toby thought back to Jasmine’s graduation picnic, and the feeling that had gripped his chest when he first spotted Sienna in that airy sundress. She still had the body of an athlete, with defined muscles in her arms and her calves, but her body had become more delicate. Delicate looked really, really good on her.
Remembering the scrawny girl with cornrows and a basketball permanently tucked in the crook of her arm, Toby could have never imagined she would turn into such a gorgeous woman. Even on those few occasions when he’d seen her during one of his rare trips home, Toby couldn’t remember her being this fine. Or, maybe he just hadn’t paid attention.
He passed a final glance in the mirror, then exited the bathroom and picked up the freshly pressed linen jacket that matched his bone-colored slacks. The dark brown silk shirt and patterned tie were the perfect compliment to the ensemble.
Because The Hard Court was centrally located on the edge of the French Quarter, where Dauphine Street met Esplanade Avenue, it took him only fifteen minutes to get to the club. At just after 9:00 p.m. there was not a full house yet, but it was well known that the party didn’t get started in New Orleans until nearly midnight. Considering that, the crowd was a respectable size.
He was hoping for the club’s success as much as he was pulling for his own. Jonathan had helped him through some of the toughest times of his life; days when he had thought about giving up. Days when he had desperately missed the best friend he had left back home in New Orleans. In a way, Jonathan had taken Sienna’s place as confidant. Yet, there were still some things he would not disclose to Jonathan that he would not have had a problem sharing with Sienna.
Not anymore, though. These days, there was an indescribable tension that stretched between he and Sienna like a valley between mountain peaks. It was strange to not have the companionship they once shared. Maybe now that they were working together things would get back to normal.
But tonight was about The Hard Court. Jonathan was like a brother, and like his blood brothers, Toby wanted to see him succeed.
Since Aria was not scheduled to perform until 10:00 p.m., Toby decided to stroll around the club and play spy. Hopefully he could glean some insights from club-goers that Jonathan could use when making future adjustments. He went over to the bar, and was not there more than a minute before someone clamped an arm across his shoulder. He looked back, finding Jonathan.
“Looking good,” Toby said by way of greeting.
“I wasn’t expecting this many people so early in the evening. The kitchen has been hopping.”
Toby had fully agreed with Jonathan’s decision to turn the club’s second floor into a trendy bistro. During his clubbing days, he had spent many an hour driving around trying to find something to eat after a night of club hopping. The Hard Court’s patrons had to go no further than the glass enclosed elevator or the curving staircase when they were ready to leave the party atmosphere in exchange for light conversation and a decent meal. The bistro’s menu ranged from tasty appetizers, like Buffalo wings and cheese-slathered potato skins, to succulent pasta dishes.
“I could use a little something myself,” Toby said, rubbing his stomach. “I’ve been so nervous about tonight’s performance that I haven’t eaten anything all day.”
“I’m way ahead of you. I’ve got a table secured upstairs.”
Toby turned to follow Jonathan, then stopped as he spotted Sienna striding in from the front entrance. At least he thought it was Sienna.
“Good God,” he heard Jonathan say.
His thoughts exactly.
What she wore gave the phrase “Little Black Dress” brand new meaning. The dress was damn near non-existent. As she came closer, Toby noticed the straps holding up the bodice were even thinner than spaghetti. The fact that she had mile long legs was undisputable, but in a dress that barely reached mid-thigh, those legs looked as tall as the Empire State Building.
Unwillingly, he acknowledged the accelerated beat of his pulse. Feeling like an incestuous fiend, he tried to block out the thoughts that had jumped to the forefront of his mind at the sight of Sienna
.
Where in the hell had she even gotten a dress like that? The skimpiest thing Toby had ever seen her wear was a one-piece bathing suit.
Sienna came to stand before he and Jonathan.
“Well, I’m here.”
“You most certainly are,” Jonathan said. Stretching out his hand, he continued, “I’m Jonathan Campbell, proprietor. And you are?”
Sienna looked from Jonathan to Toby, smiling. “I’m Sienna Culpepper.”
Jonathan’s jaw dropped. “You’re Sienna?” He turned his incredulous stare to Toby. “This is not what I call a tomboy?”
Sienna cut her eyes in Toby’s direction. He shrugged. “Well, you were a tomboy back when we were in school.”
“She’s not anymore,” Jonathan commented. “Would you care for something to eat? Toby and I were just going up to get something from the restaurant.”
Sienna placed her hand in the crook of Jonathan’s pro-offered arm. “I’m starved. I worked late today and only had time to grab a stale energy bar that’s been sitting in my desk drawer for months.”
“Then, by all means, you must try the sautéed shrimps over angel hair pasta.”
Sienna closed her eyes and let out a seductive purr. “That sounds wonderful.”
Toby’s heart skipped three beats at her sensuous-sounding moan. He was torn between taking off his jacket and covering up her half naked body, and finding a dark corner and relieving her of what was left of that dress.
Whoa! Where the hell had that come from?
To even think of taking off Sienna’s clothes was…well…unthinkable. It was more than unthinkable; it was down right sick.
Toby caught the subtle expression on Jonathan’s face, and a cold knot formed in his stomach. He knew all too well what the gleam in his ex-teammate’s eyes meant. How many times had they gone scoping for women after games? Toby had participated in enough of that locker room talk to know that he did not want Sienna’s name associated with it.
And to think he had actually thought about hooking her up with Jonathan? Chalk it up to temporary insanity. But he was in his right frame of mind now. He would lay things out for Jonathan as soon as he could get him alone.
Release Me Page 7