Bourbon Street Royalty: Jaded Series, Book Two

by Kimmie Easley

  “Damn, Mother. Seriously? You can’t get up and down the steps every day. You’re too weak. This is what the hospital suggested, and it’s what we’re going to do.”

  “A suggestion is just that, a suggestion.” She leveled her gaze at him, only to have him throw the bags down and head for the door. “Fine, I’ll stay downstairs.”

  Lucky picked up the bags and began unpacking.

  Tilly hovered. “When are you going to make the announcement?”

  He eyed his mother. He didn’t have time for this micro managing bullshit. “What are you talking about now?”

  “The board. You’re going to need to set up a press conference to announce the change of command. The seat cannot stay vacant long. Clients will begin to pull their contracts. Rumors will start. It will be a huge disaster. The end of Gauthier Transport.”

  She laced her long, elegant fingers together and placed them in her lap. Her frail chest heaved with annoyance.

  “Mother, don’t get so worked up. I have things handled. It’ll be fine. Gauthier will be fine. You’ll see, I promise.”

  “What do you have going on that’s more important than your father’s legacy?”

  “Stuff, don’t worry about it. I can take care of more than one thing at a time mother.”

  “James, we don’t have long. I hope you have your priorities straight. You’re not getting all caught up in that nasty, little stripper’s web, are you?”

  Lucky rolled his neck for the umpteenth time since being in the crowded room with Tilly. He drew in a long pull of air. “Don’t talk about her like that. Stop being such a snob. All you need to know is that Baby is important to me, and that should be enough.”

  The elderly woman scoffed. “Baby? How can I take the entire notion seriously with a name like Baby?”

  His chest tightened. As he was about to blow a gasket and say something that he knew he would instantly regret, Joyce walked in with a lunch tray.

  “Oh, Baby’s a doll. You would love her if you would just give her a second of your precious time.”

  Tilly’s anxious, dull eyes widened. “You’ve met her?”

  Joyce nodded and placed the tray on the side table. “Had breakfast with her this morning. Lovely girl.”

  “She was in my house?” She directed her appalled stare towards her son.

  He rolled his eyes. He adored Joyce, but she didn’t always have the best timing when it came to being helpful. The shit was about to hit the fan now.

  “Yes, mother. She was at the house. I’m a grown man.”

  “That doesn’t mean you can use my home for random sex visits.”

  “Dammit, mother. It wasn’t like that, and you know it! Baby Jade means everything to me. If you want a relationship with me, or at the very least, my help, you’d better learn to find a way to get past your rich, bitch bullshit.”

  Lucky knew he was pushing it with his tone, but he couldn’t let her get away with treating Baby like shit. If he had his way, she was going to be in the picture for a long time, and his mother would have to get used to it.

  Tilly rounded her perfect brows. The little lines around her mouth creased. “You cannot talk to me that way. I am your mother and a Gauthier. You will show some respect.”

  “Seriously? Do you hear yourself? You go around demanding everyone’s respect, but you refuse to even be in the presence of someone you know nothing about. Who do you respect? Is there anyone worthy enough? Maybe you have forgotten, but there was a time when you didn’t have a fucking penny to your name. Don’t you remember how much it sucked waitressing and answering phones all those years to send Dad to college? Who are you to look down your nose at someone else just because they have no other options, so they’re making due with the hand that they’ve been dealt? Baby Jade works her ass off the only way she knows how. You have no idea the bullshit that she’s been through, still going through. She’s a hundred times stronger that anyone I have ever known, Gauthier or otherwise. Maybe she’s no Carrie Scott, but I love her. She’s here to stay. Get used to it.”

  Lucky’s chest expanded as he stormed out of the bedroom. He bolted out the front door, slamming it closed behind him. He jumped on his bike and roared down the driveway. If he didn’t get to the bottom of this shit soon, whoever was on the other end would have the upper hand.

  Unacceptable.

  He headed straight to Gauthier headquarters to do another run through of his father’s office.

  “Sir, if there’s something specific you’re looking for, maybe I could help.” Wendy cradled a stack of files to her chest. She shuffled her feet while Lucky rummaged the bookshelf.

  “If I knew, I’d tell you.” The lie was all too easy. “Has anyone else been in this office?”

  “No sir.”

  He turned to face her. Her bottom lip trembled as she shook her head.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes sir. No one. I don’t even have a key to your, I mean, Mr. Gauthier’s office.”

  He huffed. Where in the hell was that fucking contract?

  “Can I get you some coffee or something, sir?”

  He stomped towards her. “No, what you can do is give me a fucking second to clear my head.”

  The tears that had been pooling in her eyes spilled over, slipping down her full cheeks.

  He immediately wished he could take it all back. It wasn’t her fault, and if she didn’t have a key, Colby sure wouldn’t have trusted her with any other information.

  “Hey, I’m sorry. There’s just a lot going on, and I guess I’m still grieving. I’m just looking for something personal. It’s ok. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Use the car and company card to go to lunch, get a massage or something.”

  She peered up at him. Her curious eyes narrowed. “Really?”

  “Sure, come on. I’m sure you got one. Leave the receipts on the desk and I’ll sign off on them.”

  “You don’t need me here?”

  He placed on a hand on her shoulder and steered her towards the door. “I’m almost done here anyway. Go ahead. If anyone asks, you tell them I said it was cool.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Gauthier.”

  The simple statement was like a dull knife to the gut. He mustered up a smile to put the poor girl at ease. “My pleasure.”

  He closed and locked the door behind her. He hadn’t seen Carrie all day, and he didn’t want to risk the chance of her barging in while he was on the hunt. It was time to tear this motherfucker apart.

  After hours of emptying out shelves, cabinets, and drawers, Lucky was ready to pull his hair out. Nothing.

  He had spent the entire day ripping through every inch of that office and came up empty handed. This would be the time to move on to plan B, if only he had one.

  He stepped out of the side elevator and spotted the chatty receptionist. She didn’t notice him because she was too busy trying to eavesdrop on a conversation taking place in the corner by the glass doors. It was a couple, and they appeared to be bickering. He thought the man looked familiar, but the woman was hidden by the man’s large frame. It wasn’t until he recognized what the woman was holding that he realized it was Carrie. She was shoving his father’s itchy, wool coat in Drew’s face.

  Lucky hid behind a column to watch the scene play out. He couldn’t make out the words, but by observing the erratic body language, it became clear that they were no longer on the same page. The more Drew shook his head, the angrier she got with her arms flying through the air.

  Every muscle in Lucky’s body tensed as he witnessed Drew take the coat and march toward the parking garage. Once Carrie was on the elevator, Lucky bolted. He intended to follow Drew and find out once and for all what the fuck was going on. He shifted gears, zipping in and out of traffic wondering what the coat had to do with anything. Adrenaline soared through his body. All he wanted to do was get his hands on the man, and anyone else who wanted to hurt Baby and teach him the fucking lesson of a lifetime. He was itching to get his hands o
n the piece of shit and show him how it’s done in New Orleans.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Baby Jade

  Baby skimmed her warm lips with her fingertips. The heat from Lucky’s perfect mouth lingered, making it difficult to concentrate. Lost in her thoughts, she nearly tripped over the curb as someone came barreling out of the heavy, wooden doors.

  A young, black man turned at the corner, knocking over an overflowing trash bin. When he did, he glanced back over his shoulder, making eye contact with Baby.

  Pain pierced her chest. Her heart raced. “Phillipe, wait!” She hollered, but he was already gone. She didn’t bother trying to chase him down. He had always been the fastest runner in their neighborhood. He could have had an athletic scholarship, but that dream went up in smoke, literally.

  She watched helplessly as he disappeared into an alley. Strange, he saw her. Why did he run? He looked different, thinner, with huge, sunken eyes. The sharp bones in his face jutted out, and his clothes appeared to be two or three sizes too big. But it was him. She was sure of it. Her heart swelled in her chest as she thought about giving the bittersweet news to Ma’Linn.

  Her son was alive.

  Maybe that explains why he was at Pecan Grove. Maybe he was looking for his mother.

  Confused, Baby stumbled into the building. A tall, elderly woman sat behind the desk.

  “Is Ang in today?” Baby asked.

  The woman shrugged her heavy shoulders, causing her cafeteria smock to move up and down. “Not sure. Just got here. They told me to stay put. There was some kind of ruckus out of one of the patients, and they needed me to man the desk.”

  Baby shuddered, causing her insides to quake. Her mother was bound to be at the root of the chaos. And now, after the run in with Phillipe, red flags were shooting off like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

  She darted past the desk, tuning out the cafeteria worker who was now yelling after her. She scanned the rooms lining the hallway. The screaming got louder as she drew closer to her mother’s room. Ang must have seen her panicked expression.

  “Hold on, hon. She’ll be fine. Just let us do our job.”

  Baby struggled to find her words through a strangled attempt to pull in even a hint of oxygen.

  “What happened? Is. She. Okay?”

  Ang gripped Baby’s shoulders, steering her away from the room. The alarming sound of Rozalie’s shrill scream flooded her ears.

  “Listen, hon, she had a visitor. Before you say anything, we only let him in because you had him on the approved list. And she didn’t seem to protest.”

  Baby shook her head. “I saw him outside. I don’t understand. Momma loves Phillipe. They used to be really close.”

  Ang folded her arms across her tiny body. “I remember. That’s why I assumed it would be ok. Maybe even good for her. He signed in brought her a root beer.”

  Baby’s insides sloshed, knots forming in her aching chest. The ear piercing screams faded, and she knew they had given her mother a heavy tranquilizer.

  Ang glanced back over her shoulder as they wheeled Rozalie out of the room and down the hallway strapped to a gurney. It was for her mother’s own safety, but it still plucked away at her heart.

  “I don’t know what went wrong. He’d been here less than ten minutes when I heard the commotion all the way at my desk. She just lost it. We couldn’t find out what happened because he was already gone before we were able to get the situation under control,” Ang explained.

  “It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I know, hon. The important thing is that she’s safe, and we’ll get her settled back in. You let us do our jobs and focus on taking care of yourself, got it?”

  Baby nodded, not paying attention to the woman’s words. Ang gave her a quick hug before storming down the hallway after the gurney.

  The door to her mother’s room remained open. She peered around at her mother’s belongings. Rozalie had been sketching. Her walls were plastered with drawings of various flowers. Her mother was talented, but she wasn’t prepared for such realistic details. Every flower you could possibly imagine had been taped around the room, giving it the illusion of being surrounded by a beautiful, vibrant garden.

  She ran her hand along the floral comforter folded neatly and lying across the foot of the bed. Lip balm, mascara, and a bottle of Rozalie’s favorite perfume, Cachet, had been lined up perfectly along the tiny vanity. The three were the only cosmetics her mother had every used.

  She checked the nightstand. A can of Barq’s rested on the plastic table. The condensation from the cold can dripped off the side and to the floor. Baby snatched up a handful of tissues and began cleaning up the trail. As she mopped up the floor, a slip of paper caught her eye. Down on all fours, she reached underneath the bed, pulling out a photograph. It was a picture of a man. She didn’t recognize him, but that didn’t mean anything. He appeared to be middle aged. Handsome. He was white, with light eyes, and a head full of strawberry, blonde hair. Something about the photo led her to believe he was sad, lonely.

  She stashed the photo into her bag before leaving. She offered a brief smile to the lady behind the front desk as she exited the building, where she was met by a cluster of people. The Satchmo Summerfest Parade was in full swing and had made its way to Pecan Grove. Elaborate floats, jazz bands, and dancers filled the streets and sidewalks. She rounded the corner only to find even more carnival fair. The smell of authentic NOLA cuisine tickled her nose. What she wouldn’t give to be a normal person, with a normal family, spending a normal day eating gumbo and beignets.

  Baby Jade pulled out the photograph and examined the man’s face. His haunting eyes were mesmerizing. The longer she stared, the more uncomfortable she got. She shuddered, sending chills up her arms and the nape of her neck.

  Ma’Linn was ambling up the walkway with an armload of shopping bags as Baby made her way up Rampart Street. She quickly shoved the photo back into her shoulder bag and ran to help her friend. “Anything left on the store shelves?” She teased.

  “Dat not funny, cher.” Ma’Linn wrestled with the load while fumbling for her keys. “I ‘bout out ever’t’ing. Freshin’ up dat altar.” She jerked her head toward the stone where she burned candles and performed rituals. The generic shopping bags didn’t have a logo or name, but Baby knew they were from Ma’Linn’s favorite voodoo shop, which happened to be disguised as a dilapidated, rundown deli.

  “Speaking of that, I have some news.”

  Her friend placed the bags on the stoop. She clutched at her plump chest. “’Bout my boy?”

  Baby nodded.

  Ma’Linn’s already round eyes grew twice their normal size. She stumbled backward and rested herself on the plastic stool. “Whatch’ya know?”

  “Most importantly, he’s alive.” Her heart jumped as she watched tears spill down the old woman’s brown cheeks. “He’s caught up in some real bad shit. He saw me, but ran.”

  “Where he be?”

  Baby shrugged. “I don’t know where he’s staying. I saw him at Pecan Grove. He was there to see Momma.”

  Ma’Linn’s bushy eyebrows furrowed.

  “I know. I don’t get it either. When he took off running, I went in to check on Momma. Turns out, Phillip signed in as a visitor. They said Momma went nuts, hysterical after a few minutes alone.”

  “Did dey bot’er askin’ me boy what happen?

  Baby shook her head. “They said he was gone before they had a chance.”

  Ma’Linn’s ample chest heaved. Her shoulders sagged forward, and she lowered her head. Baby decided it was too early to bring up the photo since she didn’t know if it had anything to do with Phillipe or not.

  She reached for her friend’s hands. “I don’t know what any of this means, but at least we know that he’s alive. That’s great news, right?”

  Ma’Linn peered up at her. Tears streaming down her face. “Why don’t he come home?” Her signature, baritone voice cracked.

  “I don’t
know. I don’t have any answers for you, not yet. He’s alive and still in town. This is a good thing. You have to trust me on that.”

  The two women shared a long embrace before going their separate ways. Ma’Linn immediately began setting up her altar while mumbling an unfamiliar chant.

  Baby prayed, for her friend’s sake, that Phillipe would be able to escape Slade’s clutches alive. She didn’t hold much hope, but she prayed just the same.

  ***

  “Mickey said to let him know when you get here.” Velvet busied herself by adding more bright red lipstick to her already heavily painted face.

  “Thanks, I’ll check in before my first set.”

  “No hay necesidad,” she said before belting out a long string of Spanish directed at Willow.

  The petite, young girl scrambled up from her seat and bolted up the stairs.

  “What was that all about?” Baby questioned Velvet, eyeing her closely.

  “Nada, just taking care of business. You look tired, Chica. What’s up with you?”

  Baby sighed. “It’s just been a long day. Time to slap on a smile and make those big bucks.” She tried to grin but wasn’t sure that Velvet was convinced. A fucked up vibe filled the room, and she didn’t like it. Her gut tightened, forming a painful knot.

  Baby finished glamming up for her shift. Pinning her hair up, leaving soft, sexy tendrils teasing her glistening shoulders. Her captivating, jade green eyes danced underneath her thick, fanned out lashes. She checked her reflection in the mirror and adjusted her cleavage, pulling her breasts up into perfect, round globes peeking out from her black, satin corset.

  She dabbed a drop of jasmine oil between her boobs, behind each ear, and along both wrists before strolling into the main hall. She scanned the packed room. An endless sea of hungry men was already knee deep in the eye candy on stage. Locals, regulars, and tourists. Glancing toward the DJ booth, she was surprised to find it empty. The track was on a loop, but no one would notice unless they had heard it a million times like she had.

  The bartender scrambled behind the bar while arguing with an impatient shot girl.