by Emery, Lynn
“Wait a minute. Let me guess, Ryan is superfine and you’re going for extra brownie points.” Erikka looked at Monique with her arms crossed.
“No.” Monique groaned when Erikka continued to stare at her. “Okay, so I’m trying to get in with his fine older brother Clifford. But that isn’t the point.”
“Uh-huh.” Erikka waved at her and unlocked the front door.
“Come on, Erikka. We both win here.” Monique grabbed her by the arm and pulled her around until Erikka faced her.
“Moni, you can’t be this desperate. Don’t sell your kinfolks for a man. They can’t be that scarce.” Erikka tugged free and walked to the kitchen. She took a pitcher of lemonade from the refrigerator.
“Cuz, I want a man who has a steady job, all of his teeth, and doesn’t live in a tiny trailer in his mama’s back yard. Help a sista out,” Monique pleaded.
Erikka laughed out loud. “Here’s a thought, move to New Orleans.” Then she stopped laughing when she considered her experiences. “Might as well stay here.”
“Do this for me.”
“I’m still not sure.” Erikka took two tumblers from a cabinet and poured lemonade in both. “When I tell him about my recent troubles—”
“I told Ryan about you already. No details,” Monique added quickly, when Erikka looked at her. “Just that you’ve been through a tough time. You can fill in as many of the details as you want.”
“Better be decent money. Of course anything over zero would be a big help,” Erikka added, with a dry laugh empty of real humor.
“He can’t pay a lot, and it’s part-time. But like you said, it’s a paycheck.” Monique watched her steadily, her eyes wide with hope.
“It can’t hurt to talk to this what’s-his-name.” Erikka still felt a flutter of anxiety in her midsection.
“Ryan Wilson.” Monique grinned and did a little dance.
“Yeah. Give me his number, and I’ll call him.” Erikka lifted the glass to her lips.
“No need. You have an interview with him this afternoon. Get dressed.” Monique took the glass from Erikka’s hand before she could taste the lemonade.
“What the—” Erikka let out a string of curse words.
“Think of the judge and those creditors, baby.” Monique pushed Erikka out of the kitchen and steered her to her bedroom.
“You’re not thinking of me, Moni. I suddenly feel used,” Erikka protested. Seconds later they were in her room.
“Uh-huh.” Monique went to the closet. “These gray slacks and matching jacket look sharp. I say we go with those.”
“This is a sad day. Where is your dignity?” Erikka snatched the suit from Monique.
“I tossed it the night my last date told me his hobby is watching pit bulls fight to the death. Get moving. You don’t want to be late.” Monique tapped her wristwatch.
“It’s noon, and I haven’t had lunch.” Erikka stared at herself in the mirror. “Look at my hair.”
Monique went into the small bathroom. “I’ll fire up the curling iron and treat you to a meal later,” she yelled through the door.
Erikka stared at her reflection. Her anxiety jelled into fear. She’d made so many mistakes in the past year. Taking a deep breath, Erikka tried to pump up her sagging self-confidence.
‘Try not to screw this up,” Erikka said, pointing to the jittery woman that looked back at her.
***
The next day Erikka went to her first day of community service. The job interview had gone well, much to Monique’s delight. Of course, Ryan Wilson had the jittery tics of a man on the edge of financial ruin, so he might have made a snap decision. Erikka would start going over the television station’s books in a few days to give his staff time to get them organized. She had a job; even it was part-time and temporary. And at least she wasn’t picking up trash on the highway as part of her community service.
“Who’s got B sixteen?” the recreation assistant yelled for the third time, as loud as she could. Three of the twenty or so bingo players strained forward, the rest either chattered to each other or wandered around gossiping. Rusty chairs and shaky tables were scattered around. A few faded and forlorn-looking pictures of swamp scenes hung crookedly on the walls. The place definitely needed a makeover, Erikka thought to herself.
“I’m in hell.” Erikka shook her head slowly as she looked around at them. “Lord, why me?”
“Here she is, my wonderful niece. Y’all are gonna love her.” Darlene appeared from a side door with another woman by her side. “Carmel, this is Erikka. Carmel is our volunteer coordinator.”
“Hi. Glad you could help us out.” Carmel pushed her reading glasses up on her head. The slim frame pinned her salt-and-pepper hair back like a headband.
“Judge Patchette asked the state probation office to transfer my case. He volunteered me, but thanks.” Erikka continued looking around.
“I love her sense of humor,” Darlene said, with a tight smile that sent Erikka a clear message.
“I’m grateful for another set of hands,” Carmel said with a laugh. “We have a dining area through there. For now we still deliver about fifteen meals around town for folks who can’t come here. The crafts room is to the right this way.”
The Rose Garden Senior Center didn’t have a garden, much less roses. Though a valiant effort had been made to decorate, the place still seemed sadly shabby. Erikka began to feel just as dejected. The center started to feel like a metaphor for the turn her life had taken. Fifteen minutes later, after a tour of the small facility, Carmel led Erikka to Darlene’s office. Darlene must have read her mood. She put an arm around Erikka’s waist when Carmel left them.
“What’s up?”
“Everything is everything.” Erikka forced a light tone.
‘Talk to me, girl.” Darlene shook her gently.
“Look, I get to feel sorry for myself on alternate Thursdays. Since this is Monday, I’m cool. Show me the copy machine or dustpan. Might as well get at least the first two hours of community service behind me.” Erikka turned in a circle.
Carmel came back. “This is the perfect day for you to start. We’re having a health fair Saturday. You can copy the flyers, help me set up tables, and make phone calls.”
“Sounds good. See ya,” Erikka said to Darlene.
“Yeah, well, if you need anything—” Darlene seemed ready to follow Erikka around.
I’ll be fine.” Erikka waved Darlene back into her chair on her way out. She turned to Carmel with a smile. “Show me the work.”
Erikka got busy. She copied the flyers that kids from a local high school would distribute. She found the ancient computer that Carmel had used to design them. Within ten minutes Erikka had livened up the look using the simple desktop publishing program. Within the first hour Erikka made phone calls, helped the recreation therapist put up her equipment, and set up the crafts room for the next day. Time seemed to pass quickly. To her surprise,
Erikka actually didn’t hate what she was doing. Taking a break, Erikka sat outside on a shaded patio to enjoy the sunshine. By the end of the day Erikka waited for about thirty minutes while Darlene finished paperwork. On the drive home, Darlene kept glancing at Erikka sideways.
“Sorry you had to wait for me. How did it go today?” Darlene said.
“You need to relax, Darlene. I’m not about to fall apart.”
“Okay, okay. So maybe I’m hovering a little bit.”
“A little? I can feel your breath on my neck. Take it easy.” Erikka grinned at her.
“Starting right now,” Darlene assured her. “Uh, your boyfriend called.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Erikka said promptly.
“Vaughn,” Darlene replied.
“I call him a few other names. Boyfriend is not one of them, believe me.” Erikka stared at the passing scenery.
“I checked my voice mail at home, and he left a message for you.”
“Good for him. He won’t be hearing from me anytime soon.”<
br />
Erikka only felt a small pang when she said the words. The hurt had begun to fade. Besides, all Vaughn wanted was to make a token effort. What little conscience he had demanded at least that much.
“You’re being kinda hard on the brother. Maybe—”
“No, I’m not. Let’s talk about something really important, like what we’re going to have for dinner.” Erikka turned on the car radio and snapped her fingers to the tune.
“That bump you just heard was me dropping the subject of Vaughn for good,” Darlene said.
“The hint is finally taken,” Erikka tossed back.
***
Two days later Erikka sat across from her new employer giving him the bad news. For a one-time consultation fee she’d done a preliminary review of his books. It had only taken two hours for Erikka to realize what a bad job his bookkeeper had done.
She had a hard time getting Ryan Wilson, six feet tall, thin, and full of energy, to sit still for over ten minutes. He tapped his fingers on the surface of his desk as she explained what she’d found in his accounts. Erikka described the mess in diplomatic phrases. Ryan’s jaw muscles worked into knots as she spoke.
“Hell hath no fury.” Ryan slapped a hand down hard, causing Erikka to jump.
“Excuse me?” Erikka wondered if she should bounce out of there. Untangling his finances would be enough of a headache. Dealing with a drama king, she didn’t need.
“Nothing. Forget about it. So, Monique brags that you’re a genius. Gotta get those books straight in three weeks. My investors are brutal. Dad and Mom will kill me.”
“Three weeks? If you want magic, call Sabrina the Teenage Witch, not an accountant,” Erikka said. “Look, I’ll need that much time to straighten out the accounts payable. Then I’ll have to start on the balance sheets, then the accounts receivable—”
“Damn.” Ryan pulled a hand over his face. “This is what I get for trusting somebody.”
“You didn’t have checks and balances. Another party, preferably a CPA, should review whatever a bookkeeper does.” Erikka wondered how much experience the man had running a business. “It’s too easy for someone with check-writing authority to abuse it.”
Ryan sprang from his chair. “Oh hell no. If any money is missing, I’m going to—”
Erikka stood and put a hand on his chest. The guy looked like he was going out to smack somebody down. “Hey, chill, I didn’t say money is missing. Just pointing out one of the pitfalls of not having the right procedures in place.”
He blinked hard for several seconds, and then took a deep breath. “Yeah, right. Sorry. Whew. Been under the gun for the last few months.”
“I know how it is. You didn’t get this far not keeping a clear head. Let me look deeper, get the full picture, and we’ll go from there.” Erikka did not want some poor incompetent bookkeeper’s blood on her hands.
“I think we’ll make a great team.” Ryan’s tense expression gave way to a wide smile.
Erikka took her hand from his chest when his gaze slid down her body. She moved away from him. “I can’t work more than twelve hours a week, maybe fifteen tops.”
“Right. Monique and Vaughn mentioned you had other obligations.”
“You know Vaughn?” Erikka did not like the sound of that at all.
“Sure. So, anyway do what you have to. When can you start?”
“How about Monday? I’m going to need office space,” she added. Erikka made a mental note to ask Monique more about this job.
“Perfect time to show you around. I just happen to have two small offices you can choose from. This building was the old library branch back in the day.”
Before she could respond Ryan slipped his hand under her elbow. Moments later they were on their way down the hall. Erikka couldn’t remember the names or faces that whizzed by. They only stopped long enough for a speed-of-light introduction. Ryan talked nonstop, mostly about his accomplishments and how this station was only the beginning of his plans. The offices were at the back part of the building. His full-time staff consisted of one receptionist, a secretary, the station manager, and two production assistants. The other four employees worked part-time.
“Right now we’re broadcasting eight hours a day. That’s a step up. I started out just two hours a day a year ago. We’ve got a gardening show, a cooking show, and more.” Ryan strode through the tiny station like a media king.
“Interesting. Guess your signal doesn’t go much past the surrounding area.” Erikka followed him through a black door.
“All the way to New Iberia. We added power five months ago. They’re on,” he said in low voice.
Erikka nodded, afraid to even whisper. Cables snaked across the floor. A tall young man with red hair moved around a camera on wheels following an older man waving a Bible.
“The lessons in Revelation are clear, my friends.” The man faced the camera with a fierce expression.
Erikka wondered how long it would take for the evangelist to build his empire. Suddenly, Ryan had her by the arm, and they were off again. They went past a glass booth where a young woman sat in front of a panel of monitors and controls.
“This is Kris. This is our new accountant, Erikka Ro-chon.”
“Hey, Erikka. Nice to meet you.” Kris gave a wave, and then went back to working the panel.
“Hi.” Erikka leaned down to watch Kris work.
“Don’t want to distract her. Well, that’s it. We have two more studios. They’re pretty much the same as that one.” Ryan led the way to his office without looking back to see if Erikka was behind him.
“My office?” Erikka said.
“Oh right. Jocelyn, come here a minute,” Ryan called through the open door.
His secretary came in. She smiled at Erikka, and then looked at her boss. “Yes, sir?”
“Show Ms. Rochon to the office next to yours. I think Elliot cleared the boxes out of there.” Ryan strode to his desk and started going through a stack of messages.
“We did. I’ll show you.”
“I’ll be in Monday then,” Erikka said to Ryan. He already seemed to have moved on to other tasks.
He came from behind the desk with his hand out. “Great, great. Jocelyn will hook you up right.”
Erikka took it, and his long fingers closed around her hand firmly. “Goodbye.”
“You’re part of a winning team now, Erikka. I look forward to our association,” Ryan said. His left eyebrow inched up as he stared hard at her. Then he let go and walked away.
Erikka recognized that look only too well. She’d never realized how flattering it was to have men, even jerks, flirt with her. Without looking back, Erikka followed Jocelyn down a hall.
“We’ve got a phone jack in there, but I’m not sure if it’s hot. We’ll have to check it. I’ll get you some supplies. I’ll be back in a minute.” Jocelyn looked at Erikka as though asking permission to leave.
“Sure. I’ll be here.” Erikka smiled back.
The young woman disappeared around a comer and down another hallway. Erikka opened the door to her new office. One small window faced the back parking lot. A few boxes were still in one comer. An oak veneer desk sat in the middle of the room. Opening the door had stirred up dust. Erikka coughed and backed out. She went in search of the water cooler. Two turns later she was lost. Fortunately, she ended up out in the lobby. Erikka stood behind four people waiting at the receptionist’s desk. The receptionist switched between the constantly buzzing phone and the crowd before her. The man at the head of the line stood taller than the rest, his broad back covered by a denim shirt. The long sleeves were rolled up to reveal his brawny forearms. Erikka recognized his baritone voice.
“I have an appointment with Tavis Miles.”
The receptionist held up a palm until she finished transferring a call. When she looked up the furrows in her forehead smoothed out. “Sorry about that. Now what’s your name?”
“Gabriel Cormier from Juste Bien.” Gabriel bent down slightly to com
pensate for being so far above her.
“Hi, Gabriel. I’m Tyquiesha. Juste Bien?”
“French for Just Right. We build handmade furniture and do custom carpentry work.”
“How nice. I’d like to see some of your work. What’s your address and phone number, please? For the sign-in register,” the receptionist added with a grin.
“Oh, please,” Erikka said, her comment louder than she’d intended.
The man ahead of her glanced back with a smirk. She cleared her throat and looked away in embarrassment. Gabriel leaned on the desk with both palms flat on the wood-veneer surface. Erikka had to admit she was surprised at him. He hadn’t seemed like the kind to flash his manly charm at any flirtatious female. Yet he seemed to eat up the attention. Tyquiesha pressed several buttons on her phone and waited.
“Mr. Miles, your ten-thirty is here. Right. You can have a seat Gabriel. He’ll be with you in a minute. Help yourself.” Tyquiesha waved a hand to a table with coffee and donuts.
“Thanks a lot, Tyquiesha.” Gabriel handed her a card. “We’ll be opening a showroom soon at this location. Stop by anytime.”
“I’ll do that.” Tyquiesha studied the card as though she had all the time in the world. She beamed at Gabriel again. When the man behind Gabriel cleared his throat loudly, her smile lost a few watts of power.
“Yes, sir,” Tyquiesha said to the man, her tone considerably less warm.
Erikka watched Gabriel stroll over to the table. He put down the leather satchel he carried and poured a cup of coffee. The denim shirt had a seam down the middle of the back and was tucked into his jeans. His deep brown hair was long and lay in tight woolly curls that brushed the collar of his shirt. Gabriel took a test sip from the cup. Satisfied, he went to a window and looked out as he drank more coffee. Erikka liked the way he moved, like a man at ease with himself. She was used to men perpetually in a hurry to go somewhere, like her ex-lover. Vaughn would have been glancing at his expensive wristwatch every ten seconds. Gabriel appeared content to wait. He didn’t pay attention to the other people in the lobby. His manner suggested he did not want to encourage casual conversation. He was wrapped in himself. Not self-absorbed, but rather self-contained.