Good Woman Blues

by Emery, Lynn

  Chapter 8

  On Thursday, Erikka drove down the two-lane highway looking for the landmarks Gabriel had given her. She steered with one hand and held the sheet of paper with directions in the other. “A Chevron self-service station on the left, turn right. Go eight miles. Geez, I’m gonna end up in the swamp at this rate.”

  A large sign advertising swamp tours that guaranteed alligator sightings seemed to confirm her suspicion. Erikka cursed for the tenth time. Give her a complicated city map, and she was fine. Driving out in the middle of nowhere unnerved her. Cattle and a few horses grazed on the bright green grass of a high levee to her left. On her right only a few hundred yards of shrubs and trees separated the road from a winding bayou. A large snowy egret poised on the bank as though waiting for a nature photographer. Seconds later its huge white wings spread out, and it took flight. Erikka watched in awe as it soared on invisible air currents. The scene did have a pastoral beauty that she had to admire. No wonder Gabriel loved working in such a setting. She imagined his broad chest beneath a sleeveless T-shirt, brown skin glistening with sweat. An interesting character, she mused.

  After another few miles Erikka started to wonder if she’d taken a wrong turn somehow. She sighed with relief when she saw the cypress sign with Gabriel’s name carved into it. Erikka turned into the driveway. Another sign pointed the way to his workshop. Gabriel appeared in the doorway moments after she drove up.

  “Hi. Were my directions okay?” He strode to the car and opened the door for her.

  “Hello. Your directions were fine. When you said out in the country you meant it.” Erikka grabbed her portfolio from the passenger seat and got out. She locked the car, and then followed him.

  “I like the peace and quiet. I made coffee,” he said over his shoulder.

  “Bless you,” Erikka replied, with sincere gratitude.

  His baritone laugh rippled toward her like a piece of gold satin ribbon and wrapped around her. Her jangled nerves settled. When she stepped across the threshold into his workshop Erikka gasped. A sculpture of wood at least six feet tall reached up. The curves suggested the sensuous shape of a woman though the piece was an abstract. Unable to resist, Erikka touched it. She almost expected the polished dark surface to be warm as flesh. Her expression must have mirrored her admiration.

  “Thanks,” Gabriel said, without a hint of conceit. “How do you take your coffee?”

  “Black. You didn’t mention that you’re an artist.” Erikka dropped her portfolio without noticing where it fell. She walked around the sculpture twice.

  “Don’t really consider it art. Just working out my thoughts,” he said casually. “What I mostly do is furniture.”

  “I can’t imagine you haven’t had offers,” Erikka said.

  “A few. It’s not for sale though. I don’t bring many people to my workshop.” Gabriel’s tone suggested he valued privacy.

  Erikka indeed felt privileged. She wanted to question why he had invited her but decided against it. She looked around when she could finally take her eyes from the stunning sculpture. Smaller figures graced one comer as in a small exclusive art gallery. Prints of bayou scenes hung on the wall as a kind of backdrop. Gabriel walked over with two mugs and handed Erikka one. His art emanated a passion that suggested heated embraces and whispered intimacies. In a flash she sensed he’d been in love when he carved them. In fact, the corner had a distinctly feminine touch to it. Had he and his lover created this space just for them? If so, Erikka could understand his reluctance to admit just anyone.

  “They’re superb.”

  Erikka turned to him. His brown eyes gazed at her. She looked away, feeling somehow exposed. The man was taken, probably by a woman with smooth, perfect skin. They might as well have met in the local library. She’d thought of the drive out to see him in a ridiculous romantic way. Now all she had was a half-empty gas tank and egg dripping from her face. She found her portfolio on a small table.

  “Let’s go in here.”

  Gabriel led her through a door to a neat office. A computer was on a desk. A fax machine sat on a table along one wall. A window had a view of the water in the distance. The round table in front of it had four chairs. He gestured to one and sat down after she did.

  “Basically, I need to get set up. I started doing the books myself with the accounting software you recommended. But I could use a little guidance.”

  “If you’re not doing a lot of complicated transactions, you might do fine. First, let’s discuss terms.” Erikka gave him a list of her fees, including the first consultation. An hour later she had a good idea of what would get him on track. They eventually sat side by side at the computer desk looking at the screen.

  “Whew.” Gabriel rocked back in his chair. “I can enter the figures, but I should use a professional.”

  “I agree. Your sales have increased by 18 percent in the past year alone. Unless you like spending time doing the books. Some business owners prefer it, at least until they get really big.” Erikka scrolled through the spreadsheets of the software program.

  “No way. I like working with my hands, but not tapping a keyboard for hours,” Gabriel replied.

  Erikka glanced down at the long, tapered fingers of his large hands. A sterling silver band with leaves etched into it was on the ring finger of his right hand. She briefly thought of the woman who must have inspired the sculpture and felt flushed. Better get back to business. Discussing balance sheets and dry numbers would no doubt help. Having Gabriel leave for a while would definitely get her mind out of his bedroom.

  “Right. Well, I can set up basic functions here so you can track expenses and income. Then a set of statements will be automatically generated. If you like I can do it now. Should take me about two hours.”

  “If you have time,” he said.

  “I have plenty of time,” Erikka replied, thinking of her stalled career.

  “Great. I’ll make sure the coffee is fresh.” Gabriel left the office and gently closed the door as though afraid of disturbing her.

  Erikka did not allow herself time to think of him. Instead, she got to work. Two hours later she had the forms set up. She spent another hour and a half walking him through the menu. Gabriel caught on after getting comfortable with the computer. Once Erikka showed him how he could save time, Gabriel became enthusiastic.

  “I’m beginning to realize why people love computers.” Gabriel seemed proud as he looked at an income statement he’d created with only a few prompts from Erikka.

  “Less time on the books, more time in the studio,” she replied, with a smile.

  “Which explains why you have so much of it on your hands,” he said. His long fingers tapped the keys.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Time, you mentioned having plenty of time. With your skills, I’d think you would be busy all day with clients.” Gabriel glanced at her briefly, and then looked at the spreadsheet again.

  “Not much to do way out in the country. Now back in New Orleans—No, that icon computes the percentage formula.” She pointed to the icon on the toolbar.

  “Thanks. So, you moved from New Orleans. You like small-town life, I suppose.” Gabriel tapped in figures on projected expenses.

  “Hardly. Now go to the next screen. Here, let me show you.” Erikka moved the mouse around until the page was complete.

  “Great. Then why did you move to Loreauville?” Gabriel said.

  “Needed a break. I’m staying with my aunt for a while. Eventually I plan to move back to the city.” Erikka nodded toward the computer. “Any questions?”

  “No, you pretty much answered them all. You’re a great teacher.”

  “Well, the software is pretty straightforward. It tells you what to do. Just don’t freak out. We’ve saved your important data. You can’t destroy anything.” Erikka stood.

  “Oh yeah? You don’t know how little experience I have using a computer.” Gabriel looked at the desktop warily.

  “Relax. Just remember w
hat I told you. Even if you hit ‘delete’ the program will ask if you’re sure before the action is completed. You can call me, and I’ll come to the rescue,” Erikka said, as she sorted through the jumble of ledger sheets he’d been using.

  “You might regret that offer,” Gabriel joked. He closed one screen and opened another, as though testing himself.

  “You’ve done a good job of learning the basics in a few minutes. I have faith in you,” Erikka said with a smile.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t call you after business hours and interrupt your social schedule.” Gabriel glanced at her.

  “Such as it is in Loreauville. Come to think of it, running spreadsheets might add more excitement than I’ve had in weeks.” Erikka used a set of folders on his desk to organize a few essential files. “Here, put these in a drawer and label them by year. That way you can easily find your old hard copies.”

  “You’re very efficient. Where do I sign?” Gabriel took the folders from her and went to a metal file cabinet in a comer.

  “I really don’t think you need the expense of an accountant. A bookkeeper could file the sales and income tax forms for you. It would be cheaper.” Erikka began arranging more files.

  “I want more.”

  Erikka’s heart skipped. When Gabriel dropped the folder into a drawer and turned, his expression was blank. Obviously abstinence had given her an overactive imagination and libido, she mused. Erikka took a deep breath to get both in check.

  “I’m not going to turn down business if you insist,” she said, hoping her voice was cool.

  “If I hire an employee or two, then we’re talking payroll deductions. If they’re full-time, there’s workmen’s compensation.” Gabriel ticked off the points on the fingers of one hand as he spoke.

  “Don’t forget accident and liability insurance. Carpenters hit their thumbs and drop blocks on their feet, stuff like that,” Erikka added with a nod.

  “I’m hoping to hire folks with a bit more dexterity,” Gabriel said, and laughed.

  “Careful interviewing and references would be in order,” Erikka replied, with a grin.

  “But you’re right. Even the most careful or skilled workers can get hurt.” Gabriel rubbed his jaw. “I have a lot of planning to do. See why I need you? Your professional services I mean.”

  “Yeah, I got it.”

  Erikka managed to maintain her all-business mode. She felt grateful her pulse, heart, and other excitable body parts didn’t kick in to supply some other interpretation. They wrapped up the meeting with an agreement on her services. Gabriel showed her more of his furniture to give Erikka an idea about his business. He touched each piece with a kind of Zen-like reverence for the wood. His voice grew soft as he described his work method. Erikka found herself asking only a few questions, and those in a hushed tone. A gentle breeze came through the open window. Gabriel stood in a slant of sunshine for a moment. She noticed the reddish-brown tinge of the hair on his bare forearms as he pointed to a chair. All they needed was the sound of a water fountain and New Age music. The workshop seemed to be an oasis of tranquility. Then Erikka’s cell phone rang.

  “Excuse me.” Erikka answered it. Karin’s voice kept breaking up. “The signal is bad. I’ll call you back. Stop being so nosy. Bye.”

  “Only so many towers out here. Like I said, peace and quiet.” Gabriel gazed at her. “Somebody trying to track you down?”

  “Just a friend. Anyway, we can meet again on Monday. By then I’ll have the name of a good bookkeeper or an accountant.” Erikka picked up her portfolio. “I’m doing short-term contracts only. I’m going back to New Orleans eventually.”

  “I see.” Gabriel turned a rounded length of wood in his hands.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure the person I recommend is reputable,” Erikka said.

  “Of course. Thank you.” He placed the wood on a workbench and put both hands in his pockets.

  “Right.” Erikka felt off-balance, as though she had left something undone. They stood a few feet apart. “I really love your carvings. They’re beautiful. If you ever want to exhibit, I have some contacts.”

  Gabriel’s eyes grew animated. “Really? Maybe I’ll consider it.”

  “An exhibit would be great publicity. I worked with historical restoration experts in New Orleans as a volunteer. So, I met a lot of architects, gallery owners, and art investors. I know a few people who would love your work. In fact, a lot of public buildings and private companies decorate with art, even commission pieces. Could add up to quite a bit of money.”

  “The money isn’t important. I love creating,” Gabriel said as he swept a hand out.

  “Right, you’re one of the Cormiers. I mean, my aunt told me about your family,” Erikka added quickly, when a slight frown wrinkled his brow.

  “Been investigating me?” The light in Gabriel’s eyes clouded over.

  “No, I didn’t mean to sound like I’ve run a criminal record search or anything.” Erikka snapped her mouth shut. Now why in the hell did she say that? “Darlene just told me your family is prominent and—” Erikka’s voice died away.

  “My family on both sides own property and businesses,” he supplied in a dry tone.

  “Right. I think it’s wonderful. Having a rich family and coming from a privileged background, I mean. At least I know your check won’t bounce,” she joked.

  Gabriel seemed to grow more rigid as seconds ticked by. “I’ll finish putting in the numbers. By Monday we might just need to review what I’ve done.”

  Damn. She’d definitely put her foot in it. Erikka cleared her throat. “Sounds good.”

  “Thanks again,” he said, a noticeable invitation for her to leave.

  “Goodbye. Call me if you have any questions between now and Monday,” Erikka said as she walked to the door.

  “I probably won’t need to.”

  His reply made Erikka feel even worse. She turned and faced him suddenly. Startled, Gabriel stopped and took a step back. “Listen; don’t mind my clumsy attempt at small talk. I’m not one to pass judgment based on gossip.

  “I appreciate your magnanimity, Ms. Rochon. Goodbye.” Gabriel’s voice was low. Yet the quiet of the countryside made it ring loud and clear.

  Erikka started to try again. Then she decided to wait until her brain was better connected to her tongue. “See you Monday.” She forced a smile.

  He merely nodded and closed the door behind her when she left. Erikka drove away, thinking that she needed a plan to redeem herself. She hoped the four days before their next meeting would give him amnesia.

  Chapter 9

  “How’s it going so far?” Darlene pushed the, rocker back and forth. She gazed at Erikka, sitting across from her in the other rocking chair on the front porch.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” Darlene replied, gently pushing for more.

  “Yeah, okay.” Erikka continued to look off into the distance. She seemed distracted by her own thoughts.

  “Oh well, good.” Darlene contemplated another try. Before she could take another stab at it Erikka spoke.

  “How are things working out with LaTrice? That was nice of you to give her a job at the Senior Center,” Erikka said.

  “We’ll see. I looked over the fact that she was fired from her last two jobs.” Darlene shrugged. “She’s showing more attitude than gratitude. Of course, she probably knows I’m not crazy about her. But I get to see my granddaughter every now and then. She’s beautiful.

  “She sure is. Brandon and LaTrice should be thankful. Another episode of The Young and the Senseless.”

  “I’m hoping she’ll straighten up her act.” Darlene did not have much hope. At least Brandon was speaking to her again. She frowned when Kelvin drove up in his Lincoln.

  “Good evening. Man, but it’s hot today.” Kelvin wore a genial expression that was all down-home charm.

  Darlene scowled a silent admonishment at him. His smile stretched wider. When she realized they had Erikka’s full
attention, Darlene smiled back. “Yes, it is. How are you, and how is your wife?”

  “We’re fine. You’re doing good work down at the Senior Center, Erikka. I’m on their board of directors, you know,” Kelvin said easily.

  “Yes, I did. Thanks. Just doing my job,” Erikka replied. She glanced from him to Darlene as though looking for signs of something.

  “So, is that what brings you here?” Darlene asked in a measured voice. Better be a damn good reason. Her nosy neighbor would spread news of any man visiting Darlene’s house.

  “Had a thought. The legislature cut the budgets for all social programs, including services for the elderly.” His voice boomed as though he was speaking for anyone listening.

  “Yeah, Darlene mentioned it,” Erikka said.

  “And charitable donations are down. We need new ideas,” Kelvin went on.

  “I have experience helping historical restoration projects get funding, but I don’t know—” Erikka broke off.

  “Even better. You’ve worked with other nonprofits to raise money. Those old folks really need your help,” Kelvin said earnestly.

  Darlene’s gaze settled on his chest and the strong arms.

  Kelvin’s desire to help others was genuine. Unlike his bitchy wife, who mostly thought of herself, he cared about others. He was right about the center. More than a few folks were afraid it might have to close. Not to mention she could see him more without raising suspicions too much.

  “I’m sure Erikka could come up with great ideas,” Darlene said, before Erikka could answer.

  ‘Two smart women for the price of one. Sounds like a winner,” Kelvin said, and rubbed his hands together. “We’ve got a meeting in about two weeks. I say we put our heads together and come up with a plan. Of course, the board has the final say-so.”

  “Maybe tomorrow?” Darlene blurted out. Then she glanced at Erikka. “I mean, if Erikka can.”

  “I’m going to New Orleans for the weekend again, remember?” Erikka gazed at Darlene with one eyebrow up.