Gotta Get Next To You

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Gotta Get Next To You Page 12

by Emery, Lynn


  “Yeah,” Lee answered. They gazed at each other in silence for several seconds. “Guess they were stupid.” “You got that right. See ya.” Denny walked out with a long, cocky bounce to his steps.

  Lee felt frustrated and depressed. His instincts told him to keep trying. But it bothered him more than he cared to admit that Andrea might be involved. Lee turned back to the computer. He had put considerable time into learning the art of forensic records examination, the new term for sniffing out a rat. He would keep at it no matter where the trail of crumbs led him.

  Chapter 9

  The Plumbers Union Hall was decorated with a combination of artificial greenery and real flowers. Andrea looked around the large meeting room that had been transformed into a grand ballroom for the fund-raiser. Local businesspeople and Bayou Blue society were just as decorative in their finest. Andrea wore a plastic smile. These kinds of functions were now part of her duties as director, and she wasn’t thrilled about it. Yet the clinic was also supported by local funds, and Bayou Blue was by no means a wealthy town. Such events would allow her to implement programs tailored to meet the needs of Lafourche Parish residents. To that end, Andrea would just have to grin and bear it. Thinking of all the people who would benefit helped her get through it.

  The Zydeco Rockers played a series of lively tunes that coaxed more and more couples onto the floor, but Andrea’s focus was not on partying. This was a business affair for her. She circulated through the crowd, making contacts and answering questions about her health initiatives. A plump redheaded woman in a bright orange chiffon dress appeared beside her.

  “Miss Noble, I’m Hester Chappelle of the Bayou Rouge Chappelles.” Hester flashed a wide grin at her and waited for a response.

  Andrea did not miss her cue. “Of course, everyone knows the famous Chappelle family,” she said with a nod. “Who doesn’t love Fireball Creole pepper sauce?”

  “Ours was first!” Hester declared, and then giggled. “Every member of my family has to say that or be disinherited.” She referred to the decades-old rivalry with another famous Louisiana family who had a world-renowned hot sauce.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” Andrea accepted the offer of a cup of punch from a passing waiter. Another round of chitchat would leave her throat dry again.

  “So-so. The subcommittee did a fair job.” Hester glanced around the crowd. “I suggested we have a biker theme, but…” She lifted a shoulder.

  “That would have been interesting.” Andrea suppressed a shudder at the idea.

  “The Summer Sensation thing is okay, I guess.”

  “Well, we do have a wonderful turnout,” Andrea said. There were well over one hundred people in attendance.

  Hester glanced around the room. “Hmm. I especially wanted to meet you.”

  “Really?”

  “I admire all those fabulous programs you have. Community service is a particular interest of mine.” Hester beamed. “I helped to set up rose gardens for the homeless in over fifteen cities.”

  Andrea gazed at her speechless for a few seconds. “Now, that is something.”

  “I know it sounds strange, but bringing beauty into their lives is just as important as food. And they can sleep on grassy patches, too.” Hester spoke with pride.

  “Guess they know to avoid the thorns,” Andrea murmured. Then froze at the expression on Hester’s face.

  Hester blinked rapidly in confusion, then her face cleared and she burst into laughter. “You’re a delight, Miss Noble. I’m going to tell my brother to write a nice big check for the clinic.” She patted Andrea’s shoulder and left still giggling.

  Andrea sighed with relief as she watched the woman drift away to join other wealthy friends. Hester seemed to be repeating the story to them. Andrea smiled and waved when Hester pointed to her.

  Just then Katy emerged from the crowd, a plate of hors d’oeuvres in hand. She wore a pink pantsuit and her dark hair was pinned up.

  “See, boss? I don’t know why you were worrying. You’re doing a great job of schmoozing,” she said.

  “Nice word for brownnosing,” Andrea quipped. “And I’ve come close to stepping in it three times since I got here.”

  “Relax; your work speaks for itself. You’ve got heavy hitters in your comer.” Katy cleared her throat and nodded to her left.

  Andrea glanced at John Mandeville and his wife, Victoria, standing with another couple. He looked over at her and raised his wineglass in greeting. Victoria Mandeville followed his gaze. Her thin mouth clamped shut. Andrea turned away from them.

  “Katy, tell me the truth. Is there gossip about John Mandeville controlling the clinic?”

  “No way, folks are too scared of him,” Katy answered bluntly.

  “So you know,” Andrea said.

  “Yeah, well…”

  “Oh God! Just what I need!” Andrea rubbed her forehead.

  ‘Trust me, no one is going to risk the infamous Mandeville wrath,” Katy whispered. “Come on, boss. Relax.”

  “Sure, relax,” Andrea said, and resisted the urge to look at the Mandevilles again.

  “Ooh, I love this song. I’m going to find my date and boogie,” Katy said with a wide grin. She tugged at Andrea’s arm. “I said forget it, Andrea. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Andrea forced her mouth to curve up into a smile.

  She watched Katy leave with a sigh. At least Mandeville was staying well away from her. Andrea decided to put even more space between them and moved through the crowd. Gran grabbed her arm.

  “Everybody’s having a good time,” she said, her voice raised so she could be heard over the music. “Why aren’t you dancing?”

  “This is business for me, Gran. You know that. I’m being watched and judged.” Andrea tilted her head to indicate the people around them.

  “Pooh,” Gran said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “They’re already impressed if they’ve got any sense. Have some fun.”

  “From the way you were kicking up your heels with Mr. Walter, I’d say you’re having enough fun for both of us.” Andrea grinned at her.

  “We’re just friends.”

  “Oh, yeah. Tell me another one,” Andrea teased.

  Gran blushed. “Hush your mouth.”

  “I think he’s cute. And a real nice guy.”

  “Isn’t he, though?” Gran smiled, then squinted at Andrea. “What are you doing for male company?”

  “Don’t start.”

  Andrea put an arm around her and they strolled toward the tall doors that opened onto the terrace. A warm wind blew in the scent of the bayou and gardenias planted around the courtyard. The floor was made of a dark green stone tile. Antique-style lampposts provided a soft lighting. Six wrought-iron round tables with matching chairs sat in a circle around an area left clear for dancing.

  “Baby, you’re lonely,” Gran said.

  “For the one hundredth time, I’m not lonely,” Andrea said in a patient tone as though talking to a child.

  “Yes, you are.”

  “I don’t have time to be lonely. Besides, I’m surrounded by people ten hours a day.”

  “I’m talking about romance, girl, and you know it.” “Let’s not have this argument again.” Andrea kissed Gran’s cheek as they went outside.

  Gran held up a finger. “I don’t argue. I discuss. And I think—”

  “Yes, I know what you think,” Andrea broke in. She led her to an empty table. “Sit down and listen. I know you want me to be happy.”

  “Exactly, and you need—”

  “I need time. Please, Gran. I’ve got so much on my mind these days.” Andrea rested against the chair back and let out a deep breath.

  Gran smiled affectionately. “You’re right, cher. Sit and take in some fresh air. Enjoy yourself.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m working just as hard tonight

  as I do at the clinic. Don’t let the hors d’oeuvres and music fool you. I’m being sized up.” Andrea glanced at the people scattered around the
terrace.

  “Oh, stop. They’re too busy eating and dancing.” “They’re not that busy. Especially not the board members. It’s so important to build our credibility. I’d better circulate some more.” Andrea started to rise, but stopped when Gran shook her head.

  “You’ve been on your feet for an hour or more. You sit here and let me get you some more punch and food.” Gran stood.

  “There’s no need to make a special trip. I’ll be back inside in a little while,” Andrea protested.

  “I was going to get more food for myself anyway.” Gran moved off at a brisk pace. “Just stay right there.” Andrea opened her mouth to call her back, but realized it was no use. Gran was through the doors and fading into the crowd already. Andrea laughed to herself. Still, she enjoyed this brief respite from smiling and talking. Being out under the deep blue sky with silver stars twinkling overhead was peaceful. The band was evidently taking a break. Andrea glanced at her wrist-watch. It was near eleven o’clock. The party was set to wind down at midnight. She’d been here since seven. Gran was right; her feet were starting to complain. Andrea slipped off her black pumps, flexed her toes, and gave a soft sigh of relief. Another breeze brushed her face and she closed her eyes and breathed in the fragrant smell of home, wet grass, and bayou.

  “Miss Mavis sent me out on a mission.”

  Andrea’s eyes flew open. Jamal stood in front of her holding a small, round tray with two plates of food and two glasses of punch. He looked stunning in a black suit cut stylishly with narrow lapels, a crisp white shirt, and a black, green, and white silk necktie. The suit jacket was tailored to fit his broad chest. A tiny shock of electricity started at the base of her spine and spread through her hips. Andrea just gazed at him for a moment. His cologne floated on the breeze and snaked itself around her until she shivered. Obsession for Men, Andrea thought hazily. Appropriately named, given the effect he was having on her. Then Andrea realized she must be gawking at him. She’d successfully avoided him most of the evening as he circulated among the guests.

  “What?” she managed to blurt out.

  Jamal held up the tray. “She said you needed to be revived after working so hard. So here I am.”

  Andrea’s mind took an erotic turn at the speed of light. She could think of all kinds of ways this gorgeous man could refresh her. He put the tray on the table with a graceful movement.

  “Yes, here you are,” she murmured. Andrea looked away from him. She hoped it would clear her mind. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. May I sit down? That was a long walk.” He gazed down at her with a soft smile.

  “I’m sorry,” Andrea stammered out. “Of course, please.”

  He folded his long frame into the wrought-iron chair. “You should be pleased with the turnout.”

  Andrea struggled not to stare at him again. He stood out from every other man present. His every gesture seemed to capture her.

  “We have a lot of support from the community,” she said.

  “I noticed you doing the network thing.” Jamal took a bite out of a small ham sandwich.

  “The entire board is here.” Andrea gazed through to the ballroom. “The mayor, aldermen, all of them are keeping a close eye on us.”

  “Yeah, this is a business function in disguise.” He nodded.

  “Exactly. Of course, good food and music make it easier to open up discussions.” Andrea laughed. “Something we understand very well in south Louisiana.”

  ‘Tell me about it. Since I moved here I’ve had to re-ally exercise more. Too many fried-shrimp po’ boys,” he said, and patted his fiat stomach.

  Andrea studied his build. From where she sat, he was doing a great job of keeping in shape. “Men can eat whatever they want without worrying the way we do. It’s all these fat cells.”

  “I wish,” he said with a grunt. “You should be with me at the gym. It’s rough lifting those weights and doing chin-ups.”

  “You could handle anything with those muscles,” Andrea blurted out before she realized it. “I mean …” She stuck a cookie in her mouth to cover her confusion.

  “Thanks.” Jamal swept a glance over her from head to feet. “You must work out, too. You look positively … fit.”

  Andrea squirmed under his examination and tugged at the hem of her ivory sleeveless party dress. “I try to run at least three times a week. Honestly, I haven’t kept up. Too many long hours at the clinic.”

  “Best thing to fight off tension,” he said.

  “That’s something I get plenty of these days.” Andrea wanted to steer the conversation back onto safe ground. “Every day I uncover some new horror that curls my hair.”

  Jamal leaned forward. “Yeah, things have been pretty bad. The records are like a puzzle somebody threw in the air. You have to wonder how those people got anything done,” he said, referring to former clinic staff members.

  ‘Tell me about it!” Andrea said with a groan. She lowered her voice. “Patient records are still screwed up. But we’ve made headway a little.”

  “What about the pharmacy?” Jamal took a sip of punch, and then put down his glass. “I heard Bill Larissey is about ready to quit.”

  Andrea scowled at the mention of the part-time pharmacist. The man constantly criticized Andrea’s attempts to organize the clinic.

  “He’s a pain in the… well, you know. Everyone works with me except him,” she said.

  “The inventory and dispensary are a mess.”

  “No kidding. Why should it be different from the rest of the place?” Andrea retorted.

  “I guess you’re sorry you took this job.” Jamal used his forefinger to trace an invisible line on the tabletop.

  Andrea let out a long, slow breath. “It’s worse than I was told, and that’s the truth. But all in all, I’m glad to be home. And for the first time in years I feel like I can really make a difference, one that I can see.”

  Jamal gazed at her with a thoughtful expression. “You didn’t feel that way in Chicago?”

  “Some days I did. But most of the time I just felt overwhelmed.” Andrea smiled. “Could be I was never cut out for big-city life. What about you? Aren’t you bored down here after Los Angeles?”

  “Not really. I was ready for a change after my divorce,” he said with a shrug.

  Andrea detected a note of sadness in his voice. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Chicago definitely lost

  its appeal for me. Funny, but I started thinking about home more after I got the final divorce papers.”

  “Yeah,” he said quietly.

  She looked at him. “But you were home. Why leave?”

  “For one thing, my ex-wife moved to Houston. I’m closer to my son now,” Jamal said.

  “How old is he?” Andrea was intrigued at the image of him as a father.

  “Jake is six going on thirty-five,” he quipped.

  “And you left the rest of your family in L.A.?”

  He paused before answering. “My childhood in L.A. wasn’t exactly sweetness and light.”

  He’d left his home to escape. Andrea knew a lot about trying to outrun pain. The signs were there beneath that layer of strong, cool dude. His face cleared like a cloudy sky giving way to sunshine. He turned his bright smile on her.

  “Anyway, here we are right where we want to be,” he said.

  “Please,” Andrea said with a groan. “I’d much rather be seeing patients.”

  “But you know being in charge means you can do more good for more people,” he said, and gazed at her with his head tilted to one side.

  “Yes, I’m tired of complaining about what ‘they’ should do. I’m going to do it,” Andrea said.

  “You want a career, not just a job. Do what you want for once, right?”

  Suddenly Andrea felt a click deep inside. He understood her. His tone, his expression, and even the way his eyes reflected the soft lighting cast a spell and made her believe he could see into her heart. It wasn’t logical.

  They hardly
knew each other outside the clinic. As she gazed back at him she caught a glimpse of something in his eyes and thought she understood him, too. He was searching, like her.

  “Right,” she murmured, unable to look away from his dark eyes.

  When the band started to play, he looked over his shoulder, then back at her. “Let’s dance,” he said, and held out his hand as though the matter were already settled.

  Andrea was out of her chair and in his arms before she realized what was happening. The music seemed to wrap itself around them until she imagined they were all alone in the world. The tune was a rhythmic blues love ballad. The lead singer’s rich tenor added a poignant note that made the air vibrate. Andrea tensed when Jamal gently placed his open palm against the small of her back. Her hand rested inside his larger one. Without fanfare, Jamal pulled her closer until their bodies touched lightly. Andrea fought to slow her breathing when he rested his chin against her forehead. Her nipples hardened and sexual craving washed through her body. Andrea bit her Up to hold back the soft moan that threatened to tumbled across her lips. She became pliant under his touch as he led her in a Creole two-step.

  “How am I doing?” he said close to her ear.

  “Just fine,” Andrea whispered, and snuggled closer.

  “I took lessons from a friend.”

  “Hmm?” Andrea inhaled the scent of cologne on his skin, a salty mix that was intoxicating.

  “Dancing. My pal’s girlfriend showed me how,” Jamal said.

  “Yes, dancing,” she mumbled.

  Andrea was thinking of a different kind of dance. For the first time in years she felt totally free. There was only this moment, music, and the sensation of being in his arms. She wanted to cup his face in both hands and press her lips to his. As though her desire conjured up the reality, she was gazing into his eyes. His mouth came closer.

  “Andrea …” His voice was husky and low.

  “Yes?” Andrea whispered.

  “You look beautiful tonight.” Jamal said. “Simply beautiful.”

  Andrea took a deep, shaky breath. “Th—” His lips grazed hers teasingly, cutting off her reply.

  Jamal pulled her closer, his forehead resting against hers. For a long, delicious moment Andrea felt suspended in time. They seemed to float on a cloud, moving in harmony to the music. He started a fire that raged out of control deep inside her. Andrea gazed into his deep brown eyes and trembled in his arms, wanting more of him. Then the music stopped and the other dancers applauded.

 

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