Horrified, Clarissa covered her mouth with both hands. Her speechlessness didn’t last for long.
“You should have told me!” she lashed out, her eyes shifting in fury between the two men.
Steve was shaking his head. “I couldn’t, love. She absolutely forbid it.”
Clarissa turned her accusing glare toward Waymon.
“It’s true, sugar,” he confirmed with the same slow, sad shake of his head. “You know better than we do how protective she was over you.”
Clarissa let her head fall as though she had no strength to keep it up. She couldn’t refute the truth in Waymon’s words. How often had she listened to her aunt advise her, over the last five years especially, to not let the business become her life or even her passion. Remaining true to form, Clarissa had allowed business to become precisely that.
Feeling defeated, Clarissa left the sofa and went to overlook the rose garden Jaz had cherished. Behind her, she could hear Waymon speaking with Steve about the funeral preparations. She turned to rejoin them.
“No. You don’t need to sit in for this, baby,” Waymon said.
“It’s okay, I’m fine.” Clarissa’s sigh proved otherwise but she maintained. “I need something to stay occupied.”
“Occupied?” Waymon mixed laughter with the word. “I promise you’ll have more than enough of that. But this is something you should let others handle for you.”
“I need to stay busy, Waymon.”
“Not now you don’t.”
She knew the man well enough to know that was the end of it. Deep down—though she’d be hard-pressed to know exactly where—Clarissa knew he was right. Stifling her arguments, she returned to look unseeingly past the bay window.
* * *
Elias had been unnervingly silent since Linus dropped the Jazzy B’s folder on his desk.
“We’ve already taken the early meetings,” Tigo explained, averting his dark eyes to pull on his shirt cuffs. “We’ve pretty much done all that we can without your approval.”
Eli applied a quick tug to his earlobe and then brushed his fingers along the edge of the legal-sized manila folder. When he’d brought his best friends into his father’s business, it was with the understanding that they’d have an equal say in the operations. Unanimous approval was needed before any project was green-lighted.
“The prelim work shows that the project is sound,” Linus chimed in. “The pertinent departments have reviewed the various aspects of the deal and everyone’s in agreement.”
“We can set up new meetings with everyone involved if you’d rather hear it from them,” Tigo offered.
“You don’t need to do that.” Eli’s voice was quiet.
“We know, given the history, that you might be hesitant here, man,” Linus chimed in again as he expected the worst with good reasons. “If you could just try blocking all that out. Think about the money on the table with another nationwide project in hand....”
Eli looked up from the desk. A smirk triggered the dimples slightly shaded by the goatee he wore. “You’ve sold me.”
Tigo and Linus expelled twin sighs of relief.
“What’s the catch?” Linus was first to recover from the easy feelings floating around the room.
“I’ll sign on two conditions.” Elias reared back again in the desk chair.
Tigo dismissed some of his easy feelings then, as well. “Conditions.”
“You two continue to work with Jazmina Beaumont and her people—” he shrugged “—I don’t want to find myself spending time with her while this thing’s in progress.”
Linus and Tigo tried to mimic their partner’s shrug. Blatant uncertainty slowed their movements even though working with Jaz and her people was pretty much the manner in which things were going anyway.
“What’s the second condition?” Linus asked.
Elias pushed back the Jazzy B’s folder across the desktop. “I deal exclusively with Clarissa David.”
Chapter 3
“How do you know about her?” Santigo blurted, his easy persona completely vanished. “Why do you get the best part of the deal?”
Elias pushed away from his desk, saying, “Because my name’s on the door.”
“And wouldn’t Mr. Evan be rollin’ in his grave if he knew that was only because you had a lucky night at cards?” Linus accused, his slanting amber eyes appearing thin as slits as they narrowed.
The partners had gone back and forth for weeks about changing the company name. They then went back and forth about what to change the name to. Elias apparently had no allegiance to keeping his family name prominently displayed on the building’s masthead. Linus and Tigo were no strangers to the tense relationship Elias shared with his father. Nevertheless, it didn’t sit altogether right with them to completely strip away every trace of Evan Joss’s existence.
When Eli suggested they settle the matter by a game of poker, Linus and Tigo figured it’d be the only resolution that would be agreed upon. Linus and Santigo often wondered who had been more perturbed when Elias won—them or Elias.
“Clarissa David lives in California, you know?” Linus folded his arms over his chest and moved closer to the desk. “She only comes back here a few times a year to check in on her aunt’s East Coast clients. She’s not even heavily involved in the construction end...”
“Yet you two have met with her, or am I mistaken?” Eli focused on the bridge he made with his fingers. He knew both men well. They’d have certainly made a point of meeting with Clarissa David during one of the few times a year that she visited Philadelphia.
“Is this about business or somethin’ more personal?” Tigo challenged, leaning against the desk.
“What difference does it make?” Eli countered.
Playful accusation brought a sparkle to Linus’s exotic stare. “You met her, didn’t you? ’Course you have.” He rolled his eyes.
“When?” Tigo finally moved off the desk.
“How?” Linus tacked on.
By then, Eli was rolling up his sleeves in an attempt to ignore the gradual mounting of his frustration. “When and how I met her is my business.” His tone was soft, yet cold.
Linus was undaunted. “It’s our business, El. We can’t afford for you to let a personal...”
“Ancient,” Tigo interrupted.
“...beef with the woman’s aunt to cause us to miss out on this deal,” Linus preached.
“I take offense to that.” Elias’s voice remained low but not quite as chilly. “I already okayed the project. Last thing I’d try to do is sabotage it.”
Linus and Santigo couldn’t argue the truth of Elias’s words. Despite the dramatics that made up their partner’s relationship with his father, they knew Eli was of a mind to see the business remain among the top construction companies in the country.
“At least tell us why you want her all to yourself.”
Tigo groaned over Linus’s question. “Idiot—he just told you that he met her. That’s all it’d take.”
Elias lost his battle against smiling and shook his head. “I met her while Stan was fitting me for a new suit.”
“Humph,” Tigo grunted.
Linus nodded and eased his hands into his trouser pockets. “She’s a real sweetheart, El—nothin’ like what we’ve heard and what you know about her aunt.”
“Apple doesn’t always fall far,” Eli muttered.
“Well, in this case, it fell and rolled right out of the yard,” Tigo championed.
“But don’t take our words for it.” Linus waved his hands. “Could you at least tell us what your plan is?”
Elias laughed. “What the hell, fellas? You think I’d hurt her?”
“I just don’t think it’d be good for anyone involved for you to hold Clarissa David
responsible for what went down back in the day between your dad and her aunt.”
“That’s what I’m trying to prevent.” Eli’s words were genuine. “You guys went behind my back to put this deal together and had the chance to get to know her in the process.” He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I only want the same chance.”
Linus and Tigo didn’t appear totally convinced. At any rate, they eventually gave their consent with a round of slow nods.
“You wanna keep that?” Linus looked toward the Jazzy B’s folder.
“Leave it with Des.” Eli massaged the side of his nose. “He’ll tell me if there’s anything I need to know, and I’ll sign whatever crosses my desk.”
Left with nothing further to argue, Tigo and Linus slowly retreated from the office. Alone, Elias’s relaxed expression was replaced by pensiveness.
* * *
“Do you really need to be doing this now? Mr. Cole already told us what happened.” Rayelle Keats’s round café-au-lait-toned face was a portrait of bewilderment.
Clarissa set aside another one of the folders that was in the tall stack of folders she’d been reviewing, to acquaint herself with the club’s most pressing local business concerns. “They should hear this from me.” Her manner was a smidge absent.
Rayelle took a deep breath, hoping her “soft touch” didn’t fail her then. “I understand what you’re saying, Clay,” she began, using her pet name for Clarissa. “But nobody expects you to jump mountains today, this week or this month if truth be told.” When Clarissa continued to shuffle through the files, Rayelle came over to put her hand over the folders.
“Jaz was like your mother and you just lost her yesterday.”
The reminder caused Clarissa’s lip to tremble and the folder’s contents to cascade to the floor.
“Honey.” Rayelle pulled Clarissa up from the desk and into a squeeze.
“I have to be involved in something, working on something. If I don’t—” she inhaled sharply “—I’ll lose my mind. I know I will, Ray.”
“I know, honey.”
Clarissa pulled back from the embrace. “No, you don’t.”
Rayelle, a former dancer and choreographer, currently served as manager for the Jazzy B’s clubs in the northeast. She was used to dealing with servers and dancers and the stressful situations they often encountered in the profession. Therefore, it was easy for her to detect the chord in Clarissa’s voice that had little to do with grief.
“You wanna talk about it, hon?”
Clarissa stooped to collect the papers that had fallen. If there was anyone she could or would talk to, it would have been Rayelle Keats. The woman had started working for Jazmina when she was eighteen. Something had always told Clarissa that Ray’s introduction into the world of adult entertainment had come much sooner than that, but Clarissa had never asked. Rayelle always said that her life began when she met Jaz.
Clarissa and her aunt accepted Ray and the circumstances of her life without question. Clarissa had taken an instant liking to the Miami-bred Rayelle, having met her during summer visits. They had been friends for almost twenty years.
“We’ll talk.” Clarissa nodded when Ray looked over at her from helping with the papers. Clarissa glanced at the silver watch adorning her wrist. “Later though, after we’re done with the girls, okay?”
“You only get to brush me off once,” Rayelle warned and then hugged Clarissa over the stack of papers.
Clarissa was slipping on a pair of clogs in time to meet the dancers. Jazmina Beaumont had established her first club in the late sixties. The seedy (or less nurturing) side of Philadelphia in those days was where Jaz was born. Who raised her had always been something of a mystery for Clarissa. All she had ever known of her aunt’s childhood was that when the Beaumonts picked up their roots and decided to start over out west, young Jazmina had refused to leave.
Clarissa knew that the woman had been on her own since the age of fourteen. How she’d survived was a tale Jaz had never shared with her niece.
Clarissa had a fine idea. Looking into the faces of the young, lovely women who made their living at Jazzy B’s Gentlemen’s Club, Clarissa guessed a lot of her aunt’s history ran parallel to theirs. Clarissa, whose job was akin to recruitment, saw those same hopeful yet guarded women when they were at their most frightened and defeated.
The stories of their upbringings were far removed from fairy tales and romance. Clarissa learned a lot about her aunt through the very girls she gave purpose. In them, she saw her aunt’s fears and shame but also the woman’s strength and intelligence.
The dancers walked into the expansive room. It had served as Jazmina’s office, lounge and private dance studio. The girls arrived in a silent, somber stream. They all charted a path right to Clarissa for warm hugs and cheek kisses. Once each girl had found a spot to sit in the vibrantly decorated room, Clarissa moved to stand in the clearing.
“By now you’ve all heard about Jaz’s passing. Yes, Meri?” Clarissa pointed to the young woman whose hand was raised.
“Um...we didn’t even know she was sick.” The petite girl’s tone was whisper soft.
A murmur of voices filled the room for a short while before Clarissa raised her hand for silence.
“I talked with her doctor. She’d been taking heart medication for a while and um...” Clarissa cleared her throat when emotion suddenly crowded it. “She didn’t want anybody to know, not even me.”
Rayelle came over to grip Clarissa’s hand. Clarissa welcomed the contact, which gave her the power to keep talking.
“I wanted to meet with you guys to assure everyone that jobs are secure. I’ve got no intentions of closing down or selling off the clubs.” Clarissa gave the news a few seconds to settle.
“I’ll never be able to replace my aunt in your eyes and I don’t want to. I will strive to give you the same sense of contentment and security you’ve always felt as employees of Jazmina Beaumont.” She managed to laugh although it was clearly shaky.
“I’m, uh, not one for speeches so I’ll just end it there. Either Rayelle or I will be in touch with the details about—” Clearing her throat that time did no good. The ball of emotion was wedged deep. She waved off Rayelle, who was moving close to offer more comfort.
“We’ll let you know about the funeral service,” Clarissa got the words out.
“All right, ladies, that’s it for now.” Rayelle gave a clap to rouse the young women from their spots on the sofas and settees. “You can head on to rehearsal, makeup or anything else on schedule. We open in three hours.”
The girls took time to kiss and embrace Clarissa again on their way out of the office. Rayelle watched until the last dancer had gone.
“You’re right,” Rayelle said, pulling her hands through her shoulder-length hair and clasped them behind her neck. “I think they were better off hearing that from you.”
“Hell, Ray.” Clarissa leaned against a corner of the white oak desk. “I don’t know a damn thing about running a business let alone a strip club.”
“Gentlemen’s oasis,” Rayelle corrected, using Jaz’s preferred description.
The words brought a smile and then laughter. The desire to laugh held on to Clarissa far longer than the actual humor the comment merited. It just felt so good to give into the urge.
“You know you’re wrong about that,” Ray said once they had sobered from the laugh attack. “What do you think you’ve been doing for Miss J all these years? I can’t think of a better person to handle this place.”
“I can.” Clarissa cast a pointed look toward Ray, who again laughed.
“Oh, no, Miss Clay. I am not the one for schmoozing and hobnobbing and grammatically correct speech.”
Clarissa’s brow rose. “Could’ve fooled me.” She shrugged when Rayelle waved her off.
�
�I don’t know half of what it takes to operate this place.” Clarissa glanced at the folders she’d been browsing before the meeting with the dancers. “I don’t even know the ins and outs of who might’ve been giving her problems...nothing....” She knocked a fist against a jean-clad thigh.
Ray laughed one more time. “What are you talkin’ about? This place runs like a lean machine. I never heard Miss J complain about any problems.”
“Yeah, remember this is the same woman who didn’t tell us she had heart disease and bypass surgery, either.”
Ray folded her arms at her waist. “What are you getting at, Clay?”
Clarissa spent the next few minutes talking of “the day” when she spoke to Jaz over the phone and how insistent the woman was about talking to her in person.
“That is weird, even for Miss J.”
“So, in other words you and the girls haven’t noticed anything strange. She wasn’t acting funny...before?”
“Nothing I can put my finger on.” Rayelle’s fair features appeared shadowed by worry. “I’ll keep an ear open around the girls anyway.”
“I don’t even know what appointments she needed to keep.” Clarissa was staring at the files again. “Only thing I was kept in the loop on was the new construction project. Jaz wanted me on hand to take any necessary trips.”
“Guess that’s where it pays not to be a control freak.” Rayelle referenced Jaz’s penchant for organizing all aspects of her business calendar. Working for Jazmina Beaumont, a secretary or assistant was left with little to do.
“Know what?” Ray began to leer indulgently. “That’s the perfect excuse for dinner out on the town.”
Clarissa frowned. “What is?”
“Miss J’s appointments. We can go through her planner and get a better idea of her upcoming commitments. I’m pretty sure you won’t want to be hanging around here when this place opens in a few hours.”
Provocative Territory Page 3
