by Linda Verji
“Yeah?” she called out.
“Jazzy?” Her assistant, York Emerson, stuck his head into the room. “Are you done with Derrick?”
“Yeah!”
“Good.” Grinning, York entered the room. As soon as he did, Jasmine had to shield her eyes. The luminous green shirt the man was wearing was brighter than the future of every elementary school kid out there, and his white jeans were so tight, they had to be hurting his groin. Good God!
On first sight most people assumed that York was gay. He was short, slender and pretty, dressed in bright colors, spoke in a high tenor and liked to use his hands when talking. But York was as straight as they come. Jasmine had learnt that when he’d tried to hit on her while she was interviewing him. Rather than be offended, she was amused by his efforts and how cheerfully he’d taken rejection. But the real reason why she’d hired him was because she remembered him. He’d played the main character in her favorite horror flick, Train to Tennessee, and she still had fond albeit scary memories of him.
“What can I help you with?” she asked.
“You know what you can help me with.” York waggled his eyebrows. “Can I leave? Can I leave? Can I leave?”
“I thought you and Teddy were meeting at seven?” Jasmine turned her wrist to look at her watch. “It’s only two-thirty in the afternoon.”
“Yeah, but I have to prepare myself, get into character, change costumes! That takes a lot of time. ” York swanned across the room. He set his elbows on her desk and his chin in his palms as he gave her his best puppy-dog eyes. “Pretty please. Let me go. I’ll love you forever and ever and ever.”
“I don’t need your love.” Jasmine had to work hard to keep from breaking into a smile as she sternly added, “I need you to do your job.”
“I’ve already done my job.” York straightened to his full height. “Everything you asked me to do, I’ve done.”
“Are you done with the documents I asked you to go over?”
“Done.” York dramatically pointed to her computer. “Check it.”
“Have you called Paul Hayes to remind about his appointment?”
“Done!” York smiled.
“Sherry Carter’s accounts?” Jasmine narrowed her eyes. “I know you’re not done with those. I just gave them to you this morning.”
“I’m not,” York confessed. “But Alex said he’ll do it for me.”
This kid! Jasmine looked past him at the open door and shouted out, “Alex?”
“Yeah,” the man shouted out. Moments later, Alex Cousins, a short, chubby, light-skinned man appeared at the door. “What’s up?”
“York says you’ve agreed to work on Sherry Carter’s account for him.”
“Agreed?” Alex guffawed. “More like I was blackmailed into it. He said he’ll start spitting in my coffee if I don’t do it.”
“York!” Jasmine tried to give him a stern look, but the reluctant grin that lifted her lips spoiled it.
“Guys,” York whined. “Come on, I have to go. Let me go home.”
Jasmine threatened, “You better stop whining. Keep it up and I might keep you here late.”
“Jaaaazzzy,” York whined, earning laughs all round.
“Okay fine,” Jasmine surrendered. “Go. Go ye and get your part. But if you make it big, I want your autograph and a mention in your Oscar speech.”
“Oh thank you, thank you.” York started to circle her desk.
“Don’t dare try to kiss me,” Jasmine warned as she crossed her arms in front of her face protectively. “Or swear to God I will make you work until midnight.”
“Well, if I can’t kiss you then…” York gave Alex a mischievous grin. Obviously Alex was dumb because he didn’t read that grin. He only realized what York was going to do when York grabbed his face and planted one straight on his lips.
“Ew, ew, ew.” Scrubbing his lips with his hands, Alex tried to grab York. York daintily slipped past him and out the door.
“Bye people.” He trilled from somewhere outside. “Wish me luck.”
“Ew, ew, ew,” Alex kept grumbling as he followed the man.
Amused, Jasmine shook her head. “And he wonders why people think he’s gay!”
Barely had the two men left when a black woman entered Jasmine’s office. “What’s up with your kids?”
“Being naughty as usual.” Jasmine met the eyes of her best-friend, Kennedy ‘Kenny’ Johnson. “What are you doing here?”
“Needed your help.” Kenny walked deeper into the office and closed the door.
Kenny was what one would call ‘thick’. Jasmine had grown a few curves when she’d gone to college but she had nothing on Kenny. When God was creating Kenny, he’d decided to throw all the leftover curves to her. The lady was all lush boobs and thick thighs. Add her height of almost six-feet and it was no surprise that Kenny drew attention wherever she went.
“With what?” Jasmine sat back in her seat.
“I sent you an email with Absolutely Muffin’s accounts for the last half of the year.” Kenny settled in the seat across from Jasmine. “Could you look at it and tell me how they’re doing?”
“Yo, I’m not doing this again,” Jasmine protested. “How many times do I have to remind you that I’m a silent partner?”
Jasmine and Kenny had come down to LA together from New Orleans four years ago. This was right after Jasmine quit working for the bank. At first Kenny had worked as a marketing executive, but she’d been forced to quit her job soon after because of the company’s working conditions. As soon as she was out, Kenny had started her own business, Whizkids Investment. Whizkids was a company designed to provide loans and guidance to college start-ups. The idea was interesting enough that Jasmine had offered her the seed money on condition that she get equity in the company. As expected, Whizkids was doing amazing.
“Come on, it’s just a teeny-weeny little file,” Kenny coaxed. “Just look at it.”
“You have a certified CPA on your payroll.” Jasmine grumbled, “Tell him to look at it.”
“He’s already looked at it, and he thinks it’s good. But I need a second opinion, and you’re right here.” Kenny stuck her lip out in a pout. “You shouldn’t have moved into the same building as me if you didn’t want me to keep harassing you.”
Obviously the lady wasn’t going anywhere. Jasmine huffed. “Fine, if you’re making me work then I want money for my advice.”
“Have you checked the value of your equity in Whizkids recently?” Kenny grinned. “I think you’ll be quite happy.”
“Not that money. Other money,” Jasmine retorted. “I want other money for my valuable information.”
“Yeah! Like I’m going to do that.” Kenny snorted. “Now stop being a whiny heifer and look at those accounts for me.”
“I hate you,” Jasmine grumbled but all that met her was a laugh. Reluctantly, she clicked on Kenny’s email.
A quick scan of the document said that ‘Absolutely Muffin’ was doing quite well. Though Absolutely Muffin was just a baking business, it’d differentiated itself significantly from other business by the quality of their product and process that it’d gained significant market share within the California State University. Their accounts looked healthy enough for the business to even expand outside the university. Jasmine was about to tell her friend all this, but Kenny broke the silence first.
“When will you call your mom back?” Kenny studied Jasmine. “She keeps calling me to check if you’re still alive.”
“I’ll call her,” Jasmine said without looking away from the computer.
Deliberately, she didn’t specify when she’d call her mother back. Why? Because she didn’t want to talk to her mother. Recently, their conversations always seemed to go the same way. It would start with her greeting then her mother would launch into mourning about how far Chancery was from New Orleans. The conversation would then move on to Jasmine’s dating life. Hadn’t she found someone yet? She was getting old. Did she want to be a spi
nster like Aunt Precious? Her eggs were getting old. Of course, her mother would then start quoting some obscure research about how children born to women over thirty were at risk of birth defects… blah, blah, blah.
Frankly, it was tiring.
It wasn’t that Jasmine wasn’t trying. She wanted to get married and to have a family of her own, but fate didn’t move according to a set schedule. None of the men she’d dated had been right. A few had come close but not close enough. There always seemed to be missing something.
You mean something like what Lucas had? Her subconscious taunted.
No! She shut it down. Lucas was all kinds of wrong. So what if she still thought of him? So what if even thinking his name still sent a dull pain rushing through her? He was still the man who’d left her on the ground getting laughed at while he walked away.
No, he wasn’t Mr. Right.
And even if he was, it didn’t matter because she had no idea where the bastard was. After graduating high school, he’d disappeared. Jasmine’s father had said that he’d enlisted in the army. The last time she’d seen him was during her father’s funeral. Even then it was just a glimpse; as if he’d deliberately tried to avoid meeting face to face. Well, screw him! It’s not like she wanted to see him then either. After that brief glance, she’d never seen him again. As far as she was concerned, he might as well be dead.
A part of her immediately protested at the thought. No, not dead. No matter how much of an asshole he was, she didn’t wish him death. Maybe just a little pain. Wherever she was, he hoped he was suffering. That he still remembered her and was in pain because of her.
Kenny left a few minutes later after Jasmine assured her that Absolutely Muffin was doing fine and she had nothing to be worried about. At around six, Kenny called her to let her know that she was leaving for the day. Jasmine still had an online consultation at around nine so she stayed back in the office. Halfway through the consultation, her phone started ringing. It was Kenny calling. Jasmine ignored the phone-call, but once she was done with her consultation, she called her friend.
“Why are you busting my phone, heifer?”
Kenny’s tone sounded urgent as she asked, “Have you seen the news?”
“No, I was with a client.” Jasmine frowned. “Why?”
“York’s dead.”
“What?” Jasmine could’ve sworn that her heart stopped right then.
“York’s dead,” Kenny said. “It’s everywhere online.”
“That’s a lie. It’s not true.” A sudden coldness seeped into Jasmine’s every limb, and her voice was shaky as she insisted, “It can’t be.”
“It’s true. Just check.”
It wasn’t true. Jasmine propped the phone between her ear and shoulder as she quickly typed York’s name into the search bar. “It’s not true.”
But it was. The headline that met Jasmine when the first page came up was as shocking as it was unbelievable.
Child Actor, York Emerson, Commits Suicide. Dead at 24.
All the entries on that page said the same thing. That York was dead.
Jasmine blinked, hoping that closing her eyes might change those headlines. But it didn’t. York was still dead.
CHAPTER 2
“Come on, man.” Jackson, the freakishly tall proprietor of Freak N’ Comics, pleaded. “I can’t do this for less than a grand, two hundred. Everyone’s selling theirs for even more than that.”
“If everyone jumped off a cliff, would you do it too?” Lucas asked absentmindedly as he carefully inspected his loot to make sure it was not only original but that the package had never been opened. The loot in question was Lego mini-figures of Iron Man and Captain America that had only been sold at the 2012 Toy Fair.
“These toys are worth more than a grand?” Shane West, Lucas’s partner, couldn’t hide his shock as he edged closer to look at the toys. The black man moved as if to touch them but Lucas slapped his hand away.
“They’re not toys,” Lucas said. “They’re collectibles.”
“Like you said they’re collectibles,” Jackson jumped in with his pitch. “And as you can see they’re good. They’ve never been removed from their bag and even come with their Toy Fair pass. A grand two hundred, man. That’s my last offer.”
“Eight hundred,” Lucas countered even though he was willing to pay more.
When he’d heard that Jackson was selling his, Lucas had practically raced over. Though ridiculously expensive, these mini-figures were extremely rare. They were markedly different from the usual mini-figures in that they were based on the comic-book versions of the superheroes rather than their movie adaptations. Also, Iron Man’s head was an openable helmet that slotted over Tony Stark’s smirking face instead of the usual closed helmet.
“One-one,” Jackson countered.
“Eight hundred,” Lucas insisted.
“Okay. One.”
“Eight hundred.”
“Wow!” Jackson huffed in frustration. “You’re not even trying. I called you first cause you’re a regular here, but I can sell them to someone else.”
“Fine.” Lucas sighed. “Nine hundred and I get Abbot free.”
Fifteen minutes later, the deal was made.
Shane laughed as he and Lucas walked out of the comic-book store. “I can’t believe you spent nine hundred dollars on Legos.”
“What would you prefer I spend it on?” Lucas lowered his gaze straight to his partner’s feet. “Sneakers?”
“Hey, these are Louis Vuittons, personally designed by Kanye.” Shane tilted his foot to show off the black high-tops. “It doesn’t get classier than that.”
“You call it classy, I call it getting swindled.” Lucas snorted. “At least I can resell my babies for more than I got them fo-”
Lucas’s words got cut off when something hard and heavy crashed into his back. He only realized that the something was human when a man rushed past him, but by that time he was already falling. The bag containing his mini-figures flew out of his hands. As he tumbled to the floor knees-first, all Lucas saw was his expensive – his very expensive collectibles flying up into the air then crashing to the ground.
His lips parted in a horrified gasp. But before he could scramble towards his package, he heard the patter of fast feet behind him and shouts of ‘stop’. Seconds later, two rent-a-cops sped past him. Honest to God, Lucas’s heart stopped when one of the cops stomped over the package. The world came to a standstill, and every single sound except for the crunching of a boot on his precious toys disappeared. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Shane came alive right then and raced after the cops. One of his stupid Kanye Vuittons also fell on Lucas’s already-damaged package, smashing it irreversibly.
Oh. My. God.
Had those men just stepped on his mini-figures? His nine-hundred dollar mini-figures? He was going to kill them. He was going to kill them all!
Lucas didn’t even know when he moved. One moment he was on the floor watching his collectibles get smashed with horrified awe and the next he was giving chase. His feet pounding to the angry beat of his heart, Lucas raced towards the elevators where the other men were headed. Even though the rent-a-cops and Shane were a few seconds ahead of him, Lucas soon caught up to them.
The perp ducked into an elevator. By the time his pursuers got there, the doors had already closed. The rent-a-cops looked like they were thinking of waiting there for the next elevator. Not Lucas and Shane! In an almost synchronized movement, the two men turned and rushed towards the escalator.
The down escalator was out of order, but neither Lucas nor Shane cared. They ran down the steps and wove their way through shocked shoppers in a bid to catch up with the perp. Even though Lucas was ahead of Shane, the perp still had the upper hand. The elevator doors opened on the ground-floor while Lucas and Shane were still speeding from the first floor. The perp raced out and headed straight for the exit.
Lucas had no choice. He took the steps two at a time until he was at a jumpable distance from
the ground-floor then vaulted over the railing of the escalator. Shocked gasps and screams met his fall. However, Lucas had done this enough that with just a bend of his knees as he landed and a safety roll, he made it back to his feet safely.
And the chase was back on.
Unfortunately for the perp, the rent-a-cops on the upper floors had already alerted their colleagues. When he got close to the exit, more guards were there waiting for him, tasers in hand. That brought him to a screeching halt right in front of the fountain. He turned as if to run back in the direction he’d come from. However, when he saw Lucas coming at him like a charging bull and the crowd that was now gathering around him, panic streaked across his overly tanned features. Frantically, he looked around.
Lucas could tell that the perp was looking for a solution to his dilemma. Unfortunately, he chose the worst possible one. His beady eyes settled on a middle-aged woman who’d stopped to watch the ‘show’. Lucas knew what the perp was about to do but seconds before he could get to his gun, the man had already pulled a knife and grabbed the woman.
“Get away,” the perp shouted over the startled scream of the woman he’d grabbed. His left arm like a manacle over the woman’s upper body, he waved the knife. “Get away from me or I’ll kill her.”
“Drop the knife.” Lucas set his hand on the gun at his waist but didn’t pull it. There were too many people around and he didn’t want anyone getting hurt. His gaze trained on the perp, he coaxed, “Drop the knife and we can talk about this.”
“Why would I drop a knife that I paid for?” the perp retorted sarcastically as his gaze frantically moved from Lucas to the rent-a-cops then back to Lucas. The woman tried to jerk away from the perp but his hold was so tight that her actions had zero effect.
“Help me,” she cried out, her eyes pleading with Lucas. “Help me.”
“Shut up!” The perp pressed the tip of his knife right against the woman’s neck. It nicked the woman’s skin and a small droplet of blood appeared.
