by Emery, Lynn
Chapter 5
Lucky for MiMi, the daycare hadn’t filled Sage’s slot. So she sat across from her boss the next day. Ten minutes in to her talk with the lanky blonde, and MiMi knew she had plenty to worry about.
Fashion Sense had grown from a string of specialty women’s boutiques with only two stores to a major chain. Along the way they’d expanded to clothes and accessories for men and children. The merchandise at Fashion Sense was pricey enough to satisfy new money shoppers. The economy of Baton Rouge continued to go strong, attracting well paid white collar jobs. The people who filled them wanted to have distinctive everything. Fashion Sense catered to their mild sense of snobbery.
Kerry Newton stood six feet tall in stockings. A former model, she affected the same stylized movements from her days on the runway. She’d never become an international sensation. Still, she spun descriptions of her modeling fame as though she had. Now she was the regional manager of buyers at fifteen department stores in four states. She held a cordless phone against her left ear, and gazed through the window of the third floor office.
“Listen, honey, I’m so over hearing excuses from everyone. You tell the saleswoman that we don’t want a substitute. We signed a contract for the Bellows line of home fashions. We’ve planned an entire marketing push around it. Now get it done.” Kerry hit the button ending the call and thumped the phone onto her desk. “All I ask is for people to do the job I hired them to do. Is that too much?”
MiMi knew enough not to reply to her rhetorical question. Besides, under the circumstances, MiMi was sure Kerry included her in that complaint. Kerry’s assistant, Tyler Grant, bustled in, swished papers in front of her, and waited. The young man avoided eye contact with MiMi, just as Kerry had done since MiMi stepped through her door. No doubt he, like other employees, wanted to know if MiMi was in or out first. None of them had the guts to risk being on Kerry’s wrong side. So much for worker solidarity, MiMi thought sourly.
“Lilly wants you to call her,” Tyler said. He cast a furtive glance at MiMi. Five minutes later he hustled out to implement Kerry’s terse instructions.
“Now,” Kerry said. She sighed and looked at MiMi as if she were one more hurdle she had to jump. “You know we’re already heavy into preparing for the fall season. We’re working like crazy to finish the store catalogs.”
“I gave Tyler a full notebook on the hot colors and looks before I left,” MiMi said.
Kerry went on as though MiMi hadn’t spoken. “Even in this digital age a lot of our customer base of baby boomers still like the paper catalog. Our web team is putting in overtime to roll out the online version.”
MiMi broke in before she could go on. “I met with Elle and the team two weeks before my vacation. They have a complete list from the manufacturers. My contacts at Wilson’s, Barberry’s, and other houses sent me their fall fashions. Elle says y’all met on them.”
After a few beats, Kerry leaned both elbows on her cluttered desk. “You were gone over a month when it was supposed to be just a few days. That’s a problem.”
“I couldn’t control complications with my flight and then my friend getting sick. But Elle assures me all the stuff I left meant no hiccups in the planning.”
“I thought your friend got sick first, which forced to you change flights and that’s when you ran into problems,” Kerry replied. One pencil thin, brow arched to within an inch of its life, lifted.
“Yeah, the point is I checked with the team before I made it home. Elle said they didn’t miss a beat. I can pick right up because everything I did was spot on. The look this season will be earth tones mixed with bold colors.” MiMi tapped the open workbook she’d spread on Kerry’s desk.
“Right, but the thing is Tyler stepped in to help. He’s been invaluable to me, doing way more than just being my go-fer. He’s getting his degree in a few weeks.” Kerry rocked her leatherette executive chair back and forth.
“Good for him. Now he can work his way up from the display floor just like I did for the past six years. That’s after I got my bachelor’s.”
MiMi pushed down the growing anger threatening to explode into a tirade. She almost added that Kerry had been hired after her. For all her hard work, MiMi had been overlooked again. Kerry’s expression tightened. She, too, had only an associate’s degree. Rumors hinted she’d had a romance with one of the top executives when she was still a model.
“Naturally, you’ve made contributions since you’ve been here.” Kerry affected a sympathetic expression that didn’t look natural for her. “I’m sure you need to settle in with your little girl, catch up on loose ends at home, etc. Take another week or so. Then we can talk.” Kerry closed the workbook.
“No,” MiMi clipped before she could go on.
“Excuse me?” Kerry blinked eyelashes heavy with black mascara at MiMi.
“The rest of the week should be enough.” MiMi picked up the workbook and stood. “I’ll thank Tyler again for pitching in on my way out. He followed my blueprint pretty well considering his lack of experience.”
“That wasn’t exactly a suggestion, MiMi.” Kerry looked up at MiMi stonily.
“I’ve spoken to Mr. Jenkins and Darcas. They’re fine with me coming back Monday. In fact, Darcas said I could come in tomorrow if I wanted. Oh, and before I came for our meeting, Elle and the team brought me up to speed. Took less than five minutes. Like I said, the work I did before I left was quite thorough. Darcas agreed. See, I left her a detailed summary.” MiMi held up the workbook.
Normally, MiMi didn’t rub Kerry’s nose in the fact that she was on great terms with the regional VP and the director of fashion merchandising. But MiMi needed leverage as Kerry circled like a shark tasting blood in the water.
“I see.” Kerry’s jaw muscle worked as she no doubt held in what she really wanted to say. She slowly stood, but looked down at her desk for several seconds before she raised her head. “Well played, Landry.”
“Look, we both want Fashion Sense to be profitable. My reputation is built on how well we sell. The minute I don’t produce, I’m out. No amount of chitchat with the bosses about Mardi Gras and gumbo will matter. But they know I make money. The numbers don’t lie.” MiMi met her gaze without looking away.
“Right, of course,” Kerry said. The words seemed to be forced through her lips. She tried to smile, but it ended up as more of a pirate’s sneer.
“We’re on the same team, Kerry. When I do my job, you look good. I think Tyler is talented. He’s got a future in this business. I’m going to do all I can to help him.” MiMi nodded as she tucked the workbook into her large leather tote bag.
“How nice of you.” Kerry came around the desk. “This job means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”
“My career with Zen Corporation means a lot to me,” MiMi replied evenly. “I care about our company, and showing my daughter that women can balance family and business. Being a mother, I know you understand.”
“I do, and I’m glad we had this talk.” Kerry smiled and held out a hand. “Monday then.”
“Monday, nine sharp as usual,” MiMi replied and shook the cool dry hand.
****
Early Friday around noon MiMi sat in Jazz’s apartment behind Candy Girls. Jazz ran a night club that also included a restaurant. Workers from the surrounding blue collar neighborhood streamed in to buy lunch. In another six to eight hours the party crowd would dominate. Then the cooks would put out free appetizers until midnight. Cheap finger food would go with the more expensive mixed drinks. The sound system belted out the throb of R&B music, the constant soundtrack of Jazz’s business. Until the beat picked up, and rap lyrics were no longer G-Rated, families with kids in tow would stop to buy supper plate.
Jazz sat on the living room floor playing with Sage on a child’s tablet computer. They were surrounded by a soft play pen gate since Jazz’s place wasn’t child proof. As they tapped flashing baby animals in bright primary colors, music played. Sage squealed as a rabbit hopped from one c
upcake to another.
“This carpet is the boss,” MiMi said, eyeing the jewel tones of green, red, blue and gold of the Oriental wool rug.
“Yeah, I had to redecorate.” Jazz let out a whoop as baby fox chased the rabbit. Then she huffed. “Stupid game.”
“In other words, you’re letting a two year old beat you.” MiMi laughed.
Jazz scowled. “This game doesn’t even make sense. All they do is bounce around on cakes and gobble up candies.”
“Ba-ba.” Sage switched her attention to a large purple ball. Her cute chubby legs kicked the soft bouncy toy a few inches. She clapped as though she’d just achieved a winning score.
“Whoa, my leg fell asleep.” Jazz got to her feet. She closed the gate to keep Sage safe and then staggered to the sofa.
“Getting kind of old to sit on the floor with kids, huh?” MiMi teased.
“Watch it or I’ll throw you and your cheating crumb snatcher outta here,” Jazz shot back. “You’re older than me. Thirty-five your last birthday, right?”
“Thirty-one, and you d… darn well know it.” MiMi kept her voice low. Not that Sage noticed. She carried her teddy bear by one leg as she kicked the ball again. They watched her for a few minutes as they sipped sodas.
“Your folks wouldn’t approve of you bringing Sage to this part of town. The center of sin and depravity is only a breath away,” Jazz said melodramatically.
MiMi laughed. “That’s a direct quote from Aunt Ametrine. My mother would say ‘Sage should be exposed to a more elevated social environment’. ”
“Translation: ‘Keep my grand baby out the hood, girl!’” Jazz started to light a cigarillo, glanced at Sage and put it away.
“They don’t mind throwing hints that I won’t inherit if I keep hanging with the wrong people. That’s why I need my own.” MiMi picked up dishes with the remains of their lunch from Jazz’s café. She went to the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher. Then she started wiping the counters.
“Okay, but running around the world after Jack’s stolen cash is a bad, not to mention dangerous, idea.” Jazz propped her feet on the sofa cushion. She waved at Sage with a smile. The baby made squealing noises and continued to play.
MiMi carefully hung up the dish cloths to dry on a towel holder. She scanned the kitchen and dining area one last time. Then she joined Jazz on the sofa.
“I want something of my own, and for Sage. My parents like the use their money like a club.”
“Nasty way to treat your own kids,” Jazz agreed.
“Maybe, but I should be independent. Getting a rich husband isn’t much better. I’d just trade one kind of economic prison for another.” MiMi sighed and sank back against the cushions.
Jazz gave her the side-eye. “Then why did you chase Roderick so hard?”
“Insurance,” MiMi replied bluntly. “I’d have my own money, and his would just give me more operating cash, a cushion. What?”
“Sorta sounds like something your family would do,” Jazz said just as bluntly.
MiMi gave a short laugh. “I was attracted to Roderick, so it wasn’t all cold and calculating. But trust me; he had status and my father’s assets in mind when he asked me out. Plus our parents finessed our meeting.”
“Those social events to make sure all the bourgie kids hang with the right crowd,” Jazz said dryly.
“Yes, the debutant balls, coming out teas, dances, theater nights and parties all serve a purpose. People who have things in common are attracted to each other. Like you and Detective Addison.” MiMi gave Jazz a sly look.
“Yes, we’re still seeing each other. No, we’re not going to live together. I like simple,” Jazz said firmly.
“Oh please. Explain to me a simple relationship with a man. I’ve never seen one.” MiMi gave a snort.
“We have a little fun conversation, lot of hot sex, and say see ya later. Simple.” Jazz winked at MiMi.
MiMi hopped up to cross the room. Sage had escaped the baby play area they’d created. She’d become fascinated with the buttons on Jazz’s expensive sound system. MiMi steered her back to her toys. Once Sage became distracted with her teddy bear and another toy, MiMi sat down again.
“Keep telling yourself that lie, okay? I’ve seen the way you look at each other,” MiMi retorted.
“Whatever. Back to you and this money. Willa is right. Concentrate on your career. Wow, can’t believe I’m quoting her.” Jazz shook her head.
“Says the woman who owns a business. Working for someone else isn’t insurance. I’m tired of kissing butt and following someone else’s agenda.” MiMi picked up a throw pillow and tossed it around.
“Didn’t sound like butt kissing the other day. I can’t believe you went gangsta with the woman. You sure as hell have changed.” Jazz studied her for a few seconds. “Look, I realize you’ve been through some stuff, but don’t let it make you hard.”
“Oh yeah? Look where being girly-girl has gotten me. Jack crapped on me. My parents and sister push me around. I don’t want my daughter to think she has to be a doormat to get ahead.”
“I get you, girl. So let’s all clean up our acts. Well, Willa’s pretty sanitized already.” Jazz laughed. “So you and Roderick are through?”
“He tried to throw me under the bus. What do you think?” MiMi retorted.
“The guy did tell the judge you weren’t in on the drug buy. If he was going to set you up, he could have put it all on you. You were taking a puff when the cops rolled up on y’all.” Jazz shrugged when MiMi gave her a squinty-eyed look. “I’m just sayin’.”
“I made a mistake, but I don’t smoke weed on the regular,” MiMi whispered. “Apparently Roderick does.”
“Kinda hypocritical if you ask me. You drink wine and martinis. Weed is a recreational high like alcohol.”
“Don’t forget the part about weed being illegal,” MiMi replied tartly.
“All I’m saying is, y’all were on vacation and he did something stupid. It happens.”
MiMi frowned. “Maybe if we were still teenagers on spring break, but not at our age. Roddy should have shown more judgment.”
“Says the woman who used him to chase down laundered money in an offshore account.” Jazz ducked when MiMi tossed the throw pillow at her.
“Shut up,” was the best MiMi could say as a comeback.
“Okay, okay. Don’t get violent. You’ve still got your job. That’s something.”
“For now. Kerry doesn’t know the real story of my extended vacation.” MiMi chewed her lower lip. “I don’t know. Flight complications and saying Roderick got sick sounds thin even to me. What if…”
“Hey, what happens in the DR stays in the DR. She won’t find out.” Jazz patted her on the leg.
“Yeah, I guess. I’ve been doing Internet searches to make sure. So far I haven’t found anything.” MiMi let out a slow breath to release the tension that had suddenly tightened her muscles.
“See? And they haven’t contacted y’all about the murder either,” Jazz said casually.
MiMi sat straight. “Oh shit.”
“I thought you said no cussing around the baby,” Jazz scolded. Then her grin faded. “What’s wrong?”
“I haven’t searched for articles on the murder. What if the police told some reporter I was questioned?”
“Shit,” Jazz whispered.
“Get your tablet. I’ll look on my smartphone.” MiMi grabbed her hobo bag to pull out her phone.
Both spend thirty minutes searching the Internet. MiMi held her breath when she put in her name. Nothing. Then she used Roderick’s name as keywords. All that came up were a few stories about his company. They found only one article about the murder on an obscure Caribbean news page. The article only identified the victim and said no suspects had been identified.
“So you can relax.” Jazz poured soda in glasses for both of them.
“Yeah, right.”
MiMi stared at the search results on Jazz’s tablet. She still felt a sense of doo
m; like a hurricane that would rock her world was building in those beautiful Caribbean waters. Going to the Dominican Republic and asking about Jack’s account at the bank there had stirred up… something. When Sage let out a yelp, MiMi looked up and smiled with affection. Sage yawned as she rubbed her eyes with chubby fists, fighting to stay awake. She scooped her up and kissed her cheek.
“You’re right. It’s over. Come on, baby girl. We’re going home. It’s time for your nap and for Auntie Jazz to get back to work.”
****
In an hour they were home, and Sage was in her playpen sound asleep on her favorite blanket. MiMi enjoyed the quiet routine of putting the house in order. Maybe Willa was right. She should count her blessings, forget dreams of a big bank account, and just live. Then she sat down at the desk in a corner of the kitchen to pay bills. Economic reality slapped her upside the head repeatedly. After another hour of staring at figures that didn’t change for the better, MiMi rubbed her eyes. The personal finance software was pretty efficient in showing her the bleak bottom line.
“Thank God I fought for my job, but it’s not over,” MiMi murmured as she tapped the keys of her laptop.
Kerry wouldn’t give up. MiMi sighed at the prospect of a daily battle. At least Kerry would return to corporate headquarters in a village outside Milwaukee, Wisconsin. The frozen Midwest was the perfect place for that icy witch. She didn’t have an empathetic bone in her body. The next two weeks would be touch and go, but once Kerry boarded that plane, MiMi would be golden. First thing Monday, she would go in and make nice to Kerry. MiMi doubted it would make a difference, but at least she could tell Darcas she made an effort. The doorbell chimed just as MiMi hit submit on the last electronic payment. She logged off the credit card website and sighed.
“I sure hope this is the prize patrol from that sweepstakes company.” She looked through the window beside her ornate front door of thick beveled glass. “Damn it.”
