Neutral Grounds

by Jiffy Kate

  He smiles, moving past me and waiting while I set the alarm and lock the deadbolt.

  We’re meeting my uncle’s lawyer at Lagniappe tonight to go over the documentation I have and papers that need to be filed before we can get a court date. I decided to go with him because he already knows the history of Neutral Grounds and that at least cuts out some of the bullshit.

  Have I mentioned how much I hate the complicated turn my life has taken? So much. If I could wiggle my nose and go back a few months when my biggest concern was the impending New Orleans summer, I would.

  Wouldn’t I?

  If that meant no Shep, would I still go back?

  “You’re thinking too much,” Jules says. “What’s got you all twisted up tonight? I thought since you were getting regular dick you wouldn’t be so stressed.” He bumps me with his shoulder and I give him a pity chuckle.

  The regular dick, as he puts it, is definitely not my problem.

  “The dick is good,” I reply.

  “Then what’s the problem?” he asks, stepping in front of me to open the door to Lagniappe. “Age before beauty.”

  Rolling my eyes, I walk into the restaurant and my mouth immediately starts to drool, just like it does every time I walk through the doors. Actually, my mouth begins to drool every time someone even mentions Lagniappe. It’s like a Pavlovian response.

  “Hey, y’all,” Micah greets, grabbing a few menus from the hostess stand. “Is Shep joining you?”

  Shep’s name is another Pavlovian trigger—desire, lust, need, want, and confusion. So much confusion.

  “No,” I tell him, glancing around the place for an older man with white hair. “We’re meeting a Mr. Terrell. Is he here yet?”

  “Not that I know of, but I have your table ready in the back.”

  Jules and I follow Micah and he leads us to the same table we sat at the night Shep and I came to an agreement to marry. Has it really only been a month? How has he worked his way so deep under my skin? How did I let him do that?

  “Can I get y’all something from the bar?” Micah asks, interrupting my thoughts…or more like saving me from them—from myself.

  “Vodka and club soda,” I tell him. “With a lime. And make it a double.”

  “I want that fruity drink with rum in it…the one you stole from Shaw,” Jules says with a wide smile, appreciating the view that is Micah Landry.

  Jules has no shame in his game and I love that about him.

  “Double vodka and club soda with a lime and a Come Again,” Micah repeats our order with a smirk. “And we didn’t steal it. We’re borrowing it…with Shaw’s blessing.”

  Jules hums his approval as Micah turns toward the bar. “Speaking of coming again…” he mutters under his breath. “Mmm.”

  “Jules,” I hiss, swatting his arm.

  He laughs, turning back to me. “What? You can’t tell me you’re so dickmatized you no longer recognize a Grade A piece of meat when it’s right in front of you.” His massive eye roll is audible. “That man is more than a snack, he’s a whole fucking meal. I swear, I’ve gotta find me some more single bitches. All this monogamy is bringing me down.”

  My expression falls at the mention of monogamy and Jules notices. I know he’s just joking around, but he played right into my inner turmoil. “What’s that look for?” he asks.

  “Nothing,” I say, seeing a waiter walking toward our table with a tray of drinks.

  He lets it go, for the moment, but as soon as the waiter leaves, he’s back like an attack dog. “Okay, before Mr. Terrell gets here, let’s clear the air. It’s stifling.”

  “I don’t think I can do it,” I confess, immediately bringing my glass to my lips and taking a drink, appreciating the burn of the vodka.

  “What?” Jules asks. “This meeting? The court hearing? You’ll have to help me out here, because sister friend has a few irons in the fire. What exactly do you think you can’t do?”

  It’s a challenge. I see it in the way he quirks his perfect eyebrow and sips his drink.

  “Everything, Jules.” I sigh, taking another healthy drink. “This. The fight with Theo. Being married to Shep. All of it. I just want to go back to when I knew what was coming every day and I was ready for it. Lately, I’ve had this feeling in the pit of my stomach like I just jumped out of an airplane and I forgot my parachute.”

  He laughs. “Well, first, and I quote, you’d never jump out of a perfectly good airplane.” He gives me a pointed stare, because, yeah…okay, I’ve said that before. “Two, if you did jump out of a perfectly good airplane, you’d have a back-up to your back-up parachute.”

  “Exactly!” I exclaim, the vodka obviously altering my normal volume. “And there’s no fucking parachute. See, this isn’t me. I should’ve never agreed to this—”

  “Then, why did you?” he asks, cutting me off before I can begin to whine. Nobody likes a whiner, especially Jules. “And from the story I was told, you volunteered your fine ass before he could ask.”

  I drink on that for a minute. Sure, I know the answer, but it doesn’t really make sense in my brain anymore, nothing does. “I did it because Shep needed someone and I…wanted…to…help him out,” I finally say, as unsure as my words sound.

  “So, this was a completely selfless act?” Jules asks, leaning his elbows on the table and leveling me with his stare. “There wasn’t anything in it for CeCe? Well, besides the cool mil. Let’s leave money out of it for now.”

  “It sounded easy,” I tell him, my lines of communication loosening up as I finish the last dregs of my glass in record time. “What’s a year, you know? And how bad could being married to Shep be?” I shrug. Even though I’m asking the questions out loud, they’re more for me than Jules. “I knew I was attracted to him, but I thought it was lust…or unrequited feelings. Honestly, there was a part of me who thought if I could just have him for a short time, I’d get my fill and more than likely be so annoyed with him at the end of a year I’d be happy to give him a divorce.”

  “But?” Jules asks, prompting me to continue.

  “But I don’t see that happening.”

  We sit there quietly for a minute before Jules makes his final closing statement. “You love him.”

  Mr. Terrell saves me from facing the judge and jury by making his appearance. “Ms. Calhoun,” he says, pulling out his chair. Jules and I both stand and we all shake hands.

  “Hello, Mr. Terrell. Thank you for meeting me after hours.”

  “Oh, no problem,” he says, waving it off. “I had a case that went late, so it’s a nice change of scenery for me. Besides, if I would’ve gone home, I would’ve resorted to a cold sandwich.”

  I smile, feeling at ease with the older man immediately.

  After easy conversation, a quick bite to eat, and another round of drinks, we dive into the real reason we’re here and Mr. Terrell becomes all business. “I’ve looked over all of the documents you scanned in,” he says, his wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. For an older gentleman, he’s quite handsome…very distinguished. “Thanks for that, Jules.” Jules nods and Mr. Terrell continues after a long, drawn-out exhale. “Mr. Duval does have a case and he’s barely slid in under the five-year mark. If he would’ve contested the will just a few months later, it probably wouldn’t have mattered. In the state of Louisiana, a will can be challenged within five years of going to probate. That window closes at the end of October, but I assume Mr. Duval knows that.”

  His annoyance with my so-called cousin is obvious.

  “Listen, CeCe,” he says, turning all of his attention on me and dropping the papers to the table. “You know and I know your uncle intended for you to have that building and run his business. He and I had a good working relationship and I have no doubt he would be mad as a hornet if he knew this greedy little bastard is coming back after this property after all this time.”

  “I did find a returned letter,” I tell him, pulling it out of my bag. “It was in a stack of papers at my mama’s
house stapled to a letter from a Cynthia Rawlings. From what my mama told me, she’s Theo’s mother.”

  Mr. Terrell takes the envelope and quirks an eyebrow when he sees it’s still sealed. “May I?”

  “Yes,” I tell him, glancing over at Jules. “I think I’ve just been waiting on someone else to do it. I didn’t know if it was going to hurt or help and I’ve honestly been a nervous wreck thinking about it…like it’s a ticking time bomb.”

  Mr. Terrell’s eyes scan the paper as I hold my breath.

  His eyebrows go up and down and occasionally he cocks his head and then nods in agreement.

  “Well,” he says after a few painful moments. “It’s a letter from your Uncle Teddy to Theo, and it’s basically his last-ditch effort to reach out to him.” He hands it to me and I rip the bandaid off and read it for myself.

  Theodore,

  You turned twenty-five today and I want you to know I’ve thought about you every day for twenty-five years. There’s not one that goes by that I don’t wish things were different. And I’ll admit, I’ve always hoped that when you were grown, you’d make the decision to come find me. Every attempt I’ve made in the past to form a relationship has been rejected and that’s a lot for an old man like me to take.

  I’m sending you this letter to let you know my door is always open. Even if it’s another twenty-five years. If I’m still alive, and that’s not a guilt trip, my old ticker ain’t what it used to be…my door and my heart will always be open.

  Teddy

  My hand clutches my chest as I feel the pain from my Uncle Teddy’s words bleed off the page. He wanted to know his son and I hurt for something he didn’t get, because he was a good man and he deserved better than what he got.

  “What will this mean in court?” I ask.

  Mr. Terrell shakes his head. “Nothing, if we don’t want to use it. The judge never has to know about this letter.” He sighs, leaning back. “Off the record, I think this is a dig for gold. I’ve done a little digging myself and it seems as though Theo is in the real estate game and he’s been losing lately. If I had to guess, he thought he could come back after all this time, contest the will, win because of his name and walk away with the spoils.”

  My heart drops to my stomach. “Will he be able to do that?”

  “Sadly,” Mr. Terrell says. “I’ve seen things like this go both ways. In all honesty, it could very well come down to the judge and how good his lawyers are.”

  “Do you know them?” I ask, pointing to the letterhead from the top of the original document I received in the mail.

  “Yes,” he says with another sigh and I don’t like it one bit.

  “And?”

  “They’re some of the best.”

  Fuck.

  Chapter 23

  Shep

  I’m over CeCe ignoring me. If there’s something we need to talk about, I want to have it out and get past it. That’s what married people do, right? They fight or argue—clear the air—and then have makeup sex.

  That’s what I want.

  And I want it with CeCe.

  I didn’t even know I wanted that until her.

  Just when I’m getting ready to pick up my phone and call her, there’s a knock on my door.

  Maybe she slipped away from the shop for a midday quickie. I did suggest it the other day when I stopped by to drop off her favorite muffalata from Central Grocery and she didn’t seem completely opposed.

  But even then, she was distracted.

  Even when I kissed her, it’s like there was a mental wall I couldn’t get past. CeCe is always guarded, but the last week or so has been different.

  Opening the door, I’m shocked, to say the least. “Finley?”

  “Hey,” he says, scratching the back of his head and looking unsure of himself, which isn’t like him, especially not with me.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He shrugs, like he doesn’t even know the answer to that himself. “I…well, your parents fired Maggie and she moved to Odessa to be with her sister. I didn’t have a place to live and I didn’t want to move to Odessa…so here I am.”

  There’s a duffle bag and his saxophone case at his feet and if I had to guess, that’s the extent of his belongings, but I’m still stuck on the part where he said my parents fired Maggie. “What do you mean they fired Maggie?”

  “You didn’t know?” he asks, a smidge of anger slipping through.

  “Of course, I didn’t know,” I assure him, opening the door a little wider and reaching down for his bag, leaving the saxophone case to him. “Come in.”

  “I’m sorry to barge in on you like this, but when my grandma decided to leave, I had no choice but to leave too…and this was the only place I could think of coming.”

  “I’m glad you did,” I tell him, giving his shoulder a tight squeeze. “I just can’t believe they’d let her go…she’s worked for them for so long. It doesn’t make sense.”

  He barks a laugh and looks around the place. “Yeah, well, they’re out to get you…any way they can. You know that, right?”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, motioning for him to have a seat on the couch as I walk to the kitchen. “Beer?”

  “Sure,” he calls back. When I walk back in and hand him one, he’s looking at me wearily. “Maggie was trying to keep quiet. You know she’s loyal to your family…but she’s more loyal to you than them.”

  I nod, cracking open my can and taking a drink. I feel like I’m going to need this to get through whatever bullshit he’s going to dish.

  “Well, she said she overheard your parents talking a couple of months ago about forcing you to marry Felicity Crawford,” he says with a lift of his eyebrows as he opens his beer and takes a drink. “Maggie knew you’d never go for it, but she didn’t want to say anything when you were home because you had CeCe and she really likes her. She didn’t want to cause trouble or make waves. It’s not because she didn’t want to warn you. Believe me, she did…but she needed her job.”

  “I know,” I tell him. “I don’t blame her. And my parents wanting to marry me off to Felicity Crawford doesn’t surprise me one bit. But it doesn’t really matter because I beat them at their game. Marrying CeCe was the best thing I ever did.”

  “I don’t think your dad is going to stop trying to figure out a way to get his hands on your inheritance.”

  Leaning back in my seat, I chuckle darkly. “He can try, but he won’t win.”

  “What if he tries to mess with you and CeCe?” he asks, worry evident on his face.

  I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Look, Finley, he can try, but it wouldn’t matter. I think he’s forgotten if I don’t make it to a year, which I will…I plan on being married to CeCe for the rest of my life. But if it didn’t work out, the one hundred million would go to charities. I’ve even thought about telling them to go ahead and make a donation. Over the past month, that money has become less and less important. Sure, it’d make business easier for me and Maverick. But we can make it without it.” Taking another drink of my beer, I let my mind wander for a second before continuing. “I’m sorry Maggie lost her job, but truthfully, she’s better off not being there. I won’t have to worry about her as much. And if she needs money, I’ll give it to her.”

  “She doesn’t need money,” Finley says quickly. “You’ve done enough. She’s grateful and she wanted me to make sure you knew your father was plotting.”

  “Tell her thanks, but I’m going to be fine,” I tell him confidently. Inheritance or no inheritance, I’ll be fine. As long as I have CeCe, nothing else matters. She’s the real prize in all of this. “What about you, though? You need a place to stay?”

  He lets out a deep breath, resting his elbows on his knees. “I might,” he admits. “I didn’t really think it through, just hopped on the first bus out of Dallas and ended up here.”

  “You did the right thing,” I tell him. “New Orleans is going to love you. And you can stay here as long as you need t
o.”

  “Thanks, man,” Finley says. “For everything. I’m not sure where I’d be if it weren’t for you.”

  That uncomfortable itch starts just like it does every time someone pays me an honest compliment and I blow it off. “Nah,” I tell him, waving him off. “I just believed in you, that’s all.”

  “It was more than anyone else had ever done.”

  Chapter 24

  CeCe

  A very pregnant Avery waddles into the shop and my mood immediately lifts. “There’s my baby mama,” I call out, handing a customer their drink. “Thanks for coming in.”

  Avery gives me a weary smile when she makes it to the counter and I reach across to hold her hand. “You hanging in there?”

  “No,” she says, her voice quaking and I immediately hurry around the counter and pull her into a hug.

  “Hey, hey,” I soothe. “It’s okay.”

  “Shaw won’t let me go anywhere on my own,” she cries into my shoulder. “Not that I want to go anywhere. It’s hotter than forty hells and I’m as big as a whale. I mean, I’m surprised I fit in your door.” Her cries grow louder and I give my lingering customers an apologetic smile, mouthing pregnant women over her shoulder. I would never let her see that. She cries about everything nowadays.

  “Speaking of Shaw…” I glance out the window and see him wave at me before turning to walk back toward Come Again. I guess I’m on preggo duty, which is fine by me. I need the distraction. I need to think about something besides all of the crazy shit going on in my life right now.

  “He dropped me off,” Avery says, finally sniffling to dry up those tears. “Like I’m a little kid.”

  Pulling back, I take a look at her, smiling as I wipe under her eyes. “How about you have a seat and I’ll make you a delicious smoothie.”

  “Fuck smoothies,” she grumbles.

  “A decaf iced cappuccino?”

  She finally sits and crosses her arms over the beach ball she’s toting around these days that holds my future godchild. I am going to be its godmother, even if I have to fight someone for the title. “A regular iced latte.”