Release Me

by Farrah Rochon

  “Don’t worry, Toby. This is just an extremely small bump in the road. You knew it wouldn’t go perfectly.”

  “You’re right. There are always snags. And if we’re lucky enough to have this as the only thing that goes wrong, we’ll be in good shape.”

  “Let’s hope,” Sienna said. “I’m going into the office for a bit, then I’ll meet you at this afternoon’s radio interview.”

  He leaned over and placed a soft kiss on her lips.

  “Thank you,” Toby said. “For everything.”

  ***

  “Why me?”

  Ivana stood in the newly renovated lobby of Jonathan Campbell’s law office, trying to make sense of the transformation that had taken place, or as the case may be, the lack of transformation she had been expecting. Instead of being destroyed, the interior of the home had been restored to its 18th-Century splendor. But that couldn’t be. Hadn’t he torn down the original woodwork?

  “What happened to this place?” Ivana asked before he could answer her previous question. “Didn’t you have the contractor strip down these walls?”

  “I tore the walls down because they were rotting.”

  “But where is all the chrome and black crap. The first day I came here there was a sketch of an office on a poster board. Everything was ugly and cold and metal and black leather.”

  A devilish grin tilted his lips. “That was for my office at the club. Happy to hear you like my style.”

  “So you had no plans to have that modern décor in this office?”

  He shook his head.

  “What about the room in the back? I asked you specifically not to touch it.”

  “And I won’t touch it if you have dinner with me.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  He shrugged. “My original intentions were to gut it and turn it into a personal gym. The mirror panels to replace the existing walls are already on order.”

  Ivana could not hide her revulsion. A gym? Could this man do anything more to make her detest him? Apparently he could. Blackmailing her into going out with him was pretty damn detestable.

  “Are you so desperate for a date that you’re willing to sink to blackmail?”

  “Not just any date. Only with a certain woman who pretends it’s the hardest thing in the world to simply give me the time of day.”

  “I don’t wear a watch,” Ivana said, which made him laugh that deep, rich laugh that sent tremors along her skin. “You still didn’t answer my question,” she said. “Why me?”

  “Why not you?”

  “Stop answering my questions with a question and get straight with me. I want to know what game you’re playing.”

  “Is this the way you treat every man who asks you to dinner?”

  “I don’t get asked to dinner,” Ivana told him.

  One brow cocked.

  She decided to be truthful. “Most men are intimidated by me.”

  He stepped in closer, boring into her with heated eyes and slowly shaking his head. “It would be a mistake to compare me to other men, Ivana.”

  Ivana thought she was taking a deep breath, but it was only a fraction of the oxygen she needed to help clear her head.

  “Now, do I call in the contractor to continue with the renovations, or sign-up for membership at the gym down the street? You make the call.”

  “You are unbelievable,” Ivana said.

  He looked at his watch. “Time’s passing pretty quickly.”

  “Wait, you expect me to go to dinner with you now? Tonight?”

  “It’s nearly seven o’clock. I haven’t eaten since nine this morning.”

  “But tonight? I’m not dressed for dinner. “

  “You look perfect,” he said, then laughed. “Why do you look at me that way whenever I give you a compliment?” With an exaggerated look at his watch he asked, “So, Ivana. What’s it gonna be?”

  Ivana’s gut clenched with anxiety at the thought of accepting Jonathan’s invitation, but she knew what she had to do. She’d learned of the room’s significance during her research soon after she’d joined the religion. Dinner with Jonathan was a small sacrifice to save the room where the first Voodoo healing in New Orleans had taken place.

  She gave him a resigned shrug. “Italian or Seafood?”

  ***

  “Sienna, are you ignoring me?”

  Her lids briefly slid shut. Sienna opened her eyes and refocused on the road ahead. “Mother, I couldn’t ignore you if I tried,” she barely gritted the words through her teeth.

  “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but I don’t like it. And it had better change soon. Now let’s go over what you’re going to say at the introduction ceremony.”

  “I know who I am, Mother. I do not need to rehearse, and I am not lying.”

  “It’s not lying, it’s embellishing. Everybody does it.”

  It was bad enough she had to spend another hour of her life at yet another high society function. She was not up to dealing with her mother’s elitist friends. In fact, until her mother’s call in the middle of Aria’s radio interview, Sienna had forgotten all about tonight’s introduction ceremony.

  As if they all didn’t know each other, and constantly talk about each other already. This was just another way for the Queen Bees to show off in front of the Wannabes. Her mother so wanted to be a Queen Bee, but her misfit daughters prohibited her from fitting all the criteria, which included having successful children and grandchildren to dote on.

  Even Sylvia Culpepper could not produce grandchildren out of thin air. However, she had been trying to get Sienna to go along with “embellishing” her successes in order to fit her friends’ standards.

  She was not going to do it. The feats she had accomplished these past few weeks were big enough to get her name mentioned in every water cooler conversation at every marketing firm in the city. If it was not enough for her mother, than that was too bad.

  Sienna pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant and turned the car off, but before her mother could open the door, she hit the automatic door locks, locking them in.

  “Sienna, what are you doing?”

  The look her mother pierced her with would have caused her to shirk just a few months ago. But Sienna was sick of cowering. She’d agreed to do this, but it was the last time she would allow her mother to reign over her life. And she was doing it on her terms.

  “We need to set some ground rules before we walk into that restaurant.”

  “Sienna, I don’t have time for your nonsense. Now unlock these doors so we can go.”

  “You’ll either sit and listen to me, or we’ll spend the entire time in the parking lot. Take your pick.”

  The gasp that escaped her mother’s lips was priceless. “Just who do you think you’re talking to in that tone?”

  “Are you listening?”

  “I am not about to let you talk to me this way, Sienna Elaine.”

  “You don’t have a choice.” Sienna twisted in her seat. Her mother needed to see her face when she said what she had to say. “The only reason I am still going along with this is because I don’t want you to look like a total fool, but after the ball on Sunday that’s it, Mother. I will not let you use me to live out some ridiculous dream you’ve had.”

  Her mother opened her mouth to speak, but Sienna cut her off.

  “Listen to me. We are going to go in there, and you will not make anything more of my career than what it is. If you cannot be proud of the fact that I’m a very successful junior marketing executive, then find yourself another more acceptable daughter to pass around to your friends.”

  If it were possible for a person’s head to pop right off their shoulders, Sienna was sure her mother’s would have by now. She could practically see the steam building under her perfectly coiffed hair.

  “Furthermore, I will not tolerate you lying about any romantic relationships, or even worse, trying to push me with an unmarried son of one of your so called friends.”
/>
  “You should be grateful any of my friends would want their sons with you. Most of them think you’re gay.”

  Sienna thought about Toby’s hand traveling up her stomach, his mouth pulling on her nipple through her blouse.

  “Perfect,” Sienna answered. “I’ll start my introduction by telling them all that I’m a lesbian.”

  “Sienna!”

  Dang. She wasn’t holding onto her chest. Sienna was sure that would have given her mother a heart attack.

  “Do you promise not to change me into your version of the ideal daughter when we get in there?”

  Oh, yeah. Her mother could cook a head of cabbage with the steam radiating from under her collar.

  “Just unlock the door,” Sylvia spat.

  “Not until you give me your word.”

  She gave the most imperceptible nod.

  Pressing the automatic lock, Sienna shivered from the rush of pleasure that came with just this one small victory. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Imitating Michael Jackson’s moonwalk would have been inappropriate, but that’s exactly what Jonathan felt like doing. He should feel guilty for lying about remodeling that back room, but when Ivana had barged into his office demanding the room not be touch, inspiration had struck, and Jonathan refused to feel even a twinge of guilt. He’d started to doubt he’d ever get Ivana to agree to go out with him.

  Of course, this was not what he’d had in mind when he suggested dinner. Even though he was still new to the city, Jonathan had questioned Ivana’s directions when she’d told him the location of the restaurant where she wanted to have dinner. Toby had given him a crash course in the neighborhoods to avoid, and this one ranked high on the list. As he looked over the scores of faces crowding the tables in the soup kitchen, Jonathan couldn’t help but say a prayer for their situation.

  “I don’t eat no green beans,” an old lady, who had on at least three coats even though it was pushing eighty-five degrees outside, yelled at him.

  “Sorry, Ms. Mable. He’s new,” Ivana said as she placed an extra roll on the woman’s plate.

  Jonathan leaned closer to her. “When I suggested we have dinner, I envisioned sitting at a table while people served us, not the other way around.”

  “We eat when everyone else has been fed,” Ivana said.

  “Hurry it up,” came a call from somewhere down the line.

  “Get back to your green beans,” Ivana said. “You’re slowing down the line.”

  “They’ll get the damn beans when I give it to them,” Jonathan muttered under his breath. “Ungrateful sons of…”

  His respect for Ivana grew by leaps and bounds with every abusive remark one of the vagrants hurled her way. Jonathan had been ready to fight the first person who’d insulted her, but Ivana had stopped him. She’d told him he needed to understand that most of these people were angry at the world because of their current circumstances, and that he shouldn’t hold their sour attitudes against them. The way Jonathan saw it they all should be grateful that people like Ivana and the rest of her friends cared enough to fix them a hot meal.

  By the time everyone had eaten their fill, which included seconds and even thirds for some people, there were a few pieces of roast beef and about ten string beans left for both he and Ivana to split. Ever the gentleman, Jonathan gave up his claim to the green beans so Ivana could have them all.

  They took a seat at the table one of the other helpers had just cleared.

  Now all he had to do was get her to talk about herself, which he had not been able to accomplish the entire time they’d served the homeless their meals.

  “So, what’s the age difference between you and Sienna?” Jonathan asked, since his earlier question about her business had tanked.

  “When did it become appropriate to ask a woman her age?” she countered.

  “Come on, Ivana. You practically ignored me the entire time we were serving. Did you agree to go out with me just to be difficult all night?”

  “I agreed to go out with you because you gave me no other choice.”

  “So you’re saying you would never have gone out with me if it were not for wanting to save that back room from becoming my private gym?”

  The look she gave him told Jonathan that was exactly the case.

  Forget this. Why was he bothering with a woman who didn’t want anything to do with him? He was getting hit on at least a dozen times a night at the club. All he had to do was crook his finger and he could have a string of women in his bed.

  But not a single one of them had intrigued him the way Ivana had. There was something about her that captivated him, so much so that he decided against ending the date early, as he had been about to do just a second ago. Instead, Jonathan employed another tactic, something he knew she couldn’t resist.

  “Why don’t you explain just why that room is so important to you?”

  She gave him the suspicious eye before taking a sip of water and asking, “Why?”

  Jonathan shrugged, “It must mean a lot if you were willing to stoop to having dinner with me.”

  She gave him a saccharine smile. “Only fools fall for reverse psychology, Mr. Campbell, and despite what the vast majority of people think, I am no fool.”

  That. That right there was what had him coming back even though she shot him down at every turn. She had a hint of sass that tended to surface from time to time. It was such a contradiction to the no-nonsense image she usually portrayed. She fascinated him, plain and simple.

  He was about to speak when she said, “The building that houses your new law practice is where the first Voodoo healing took place in New Orleans.” She pushed a few green beans around with her fork. “It’s an important part of the religion’s history, at least to us practicing it here in New Orleans.”

  “What made you turn to Voodoo,” he asked, because he desperately wanted to know. He knew her religion was important to her, and Jonathan was dying for just a small look through this window to her soul.

  “I was raised a Christian,” Ivana provided. “Actually, in many ways I still believe in God, but it was the compassion of the Voodoo that appealed to me. I’d never witnessed such generosity.” She looked up at him, her expression softened. “I was like you, you know. All about my career without a thought about others.”

  Jonathan swallowed back his reaction to her baseless account of his personality. She’d drawn her own conclusions about him based on his being an attorney. He would set her straight soon enough. For the moment, he didn’t want to say anything that would stop her now that she was finally opening up to him.

  “I got tired of Corporate America pretty quick,” Ivana continued, still pushing the food around. “One day, one of my fellow Voodoo sisters approached me. She said something within me called to her, and invited me to join her at a healing. It was life-changing,” she said, passion gleaming brightly in her eyes. “I get chills just thinking about the love that was present in that room.”

  She expelled a breath, looked down at her plate. “That’s why I was so against you moving into the building and tearing it apart,” she said when she looked back up at him.

  Jonathan hitched a shoulder apologetically. “I didn’t know,” he said.

  “Forget it,” she waved him off, but Jonathan didn’t want anything fueling the insensitive jerk persona she’d mentally created with regard to him.

  He reached over and wrapped a hand around her wrist. God, her skin was soft. He looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know I’ve given you grief over the room. I didn’t know how important it was too you.”

  She stared at him, a wisp of hair bellowing softly in and out of her partially opened mouth. Jonathan ached to capture her full bottom lip between his teeth and suck.

  A loud crash came from the kitchen, jerking them both out of the intense haze of awareness that had wrapped itself around them.

  “Everything’s okay,” came a call from th
e kitchen.

  Ivana pulled her hand from his hold, using it to tuck the wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, I’m glad I got through this dinner. I can rest easy knowing the room is safe.”

  Disappointment twisted his stomach. “Is that really the only reason you agreed to have dinner with me?” Jonathan asked, knowing his hurt showed in his face, but unable to do anything about it.

  “It’s the only option you gave me,” she returned.

  Jonathan shook his head. “I’m trying really hard here, Ivana, but you’re not making it easy.” He pushed his plate to the side and folded his hands on top of the table. “Why don’t we pretend we’ve never met? Forget the fact that you don’t like me, for whatever reason you choose not to like me.”

  She held up her hand. “Before you go any further, let me explain just why I don’t like you.”

  Oh, great. He had just asked for this, hadn’t he?

  Ivana used her fingers to tick off the reasons. “Your office. Your club. Your car.”

  “My car?”

  “Yes. Your job.”

  “Hold up. Back to the car. Why don’t you like my car?”

  “Because it is the most ostentatious heap of wasted money I’ve ever seen. The only reason a man would pay that much money for a car is to compensate for his insecurities and low self-esteem.”

  “You can tell all that just by the car I drive? Who’s practicing pop psychology now?”

  She ignored him and went on with her Why I Despise Jonathan list. “The way you dress.”

  “Wait, wait, wait. What have my clothes got to do with any of this?”

  “Same as the car. Why else would you spend so much money on those suits and silk ties if not to make yourself feel special?”

  “Isn’t that why anyone does anything for themselves? That’s the point of life, to be happy. At least for the majority of the population. And what about you?” Jonathan asked, past the point of being a little miffed. In fact he was well on his way to being damn offended by her observations. “Do you spend your evenings working in a soup kitchen only because you want to help people, or because you want to feel good about yourself?”