Soulful Strut Page 7

  “Ahem. I listened to your show yesterday. Really interesting.” Jayson crossed his arms as he spoke to Monette.

  “Thanks.” Monette glanced at his handsome smile but didn’t smile back.

  “I, uh, really hate that you had to suffer at the hands of a corrupt man like Winn Barron. He gives the justice system a bad name.”

  “Yeah, well that same system doesn’t see him as corrupt. They didn’t do a thing to him.” Monette shrugged. “Jerry Hines isn’t exactly dripping credibility. Since there was no evidence backing up either of our stories, nothing else is going to be done.”

  Jayson walked toward her. “Maybe not, but everybody knows the truth. Why else would the governor approve the parole recommendation? I read his statement. He said there was strong reason to believe the case against you had been ‘tainted.’ ”

  “Like I said, no hard evidence to indicate Barron broke any law. So, he gets to keep sunning on the beach in Palm Springs. My reward is parole. Oh, well, no use whining.” Monette lifted a shoulder.

  ‘Too bad he’s not facing a judge. Anyway, just wanted to say I think your show is really going to inform people. I learned a lot.” Jayson nodded, an earnest expression on his handsome face.

  Monette felt a definite thaw in his direction. Maybe she’d just mistaken shyness for snobbery. She did have a small chip on her shoulder sometimes. She turned in her chair to face him. “Oh, really? Like what?”

  “The Justice Project, for one thing, and that some way-out stories might just be true.” Jayson gave her an apologetic smile. “To be honest, I probably wouldn’t have believed you, like a lot of folks.”

  “It’s okay. Jim Rand had a healthy dose of skepticism, too. Like Hines, I had my own credibility issues.” Monette smiled at him for the first time. His candid admission melted what little ice remained.

  “You still didn’t deserve what Barron did to you. Everybody makes mistakes. I’ve made my share of stupid moves.” Jayson shook his head.

  Monette doubted Jayson had done more than drink one too many beers at his fraternity party. Nothing compared to some of the things she’d done. She reminded herself of the wide divide between them. Then his sensuous mouth curved up into a delectable smile and closed the gap just a little.

  “Excuse my manners,” Monette hastened to say, falling right into his down-home manners. “Can I offer you something? Maybe a sandwich or some lemonade?”

  “No, thanks. I’ve got lunch waiting for me back at the garage.” Jayson made no move to go. He gazed at Monette.

  “How will you get back?”

  “Just a few minutes’ walk from here,” Jayson said and pointed east.

  Monette glanced down at his legs. Powerful muscles strained against the dark blue work pants. She could tell that even a longer distance would be no problem for him. “Congratulations on having a successful business, by the way.”

  “Thanks. Nothing fancy, though. I have two shops and a total of six employees between them. Looks like you settled in pretty good.” Jayson slapped one palm against his thigh for a few seconds.

  “Yeah, the folks that run this place are good people. Sure you don’t at least want some lemonade? Even a short walk out in that sun can dry you out” Monette could tell he wondered about her but was polite enough not to pry so soon. She liked that.

  ‘Thanks. Lemonade would wash a little dust from my throat,” Jayson said.

  “How long have you had your own business?” Monette found a tumbler in the cabinet, and then poured until he waved for her to stop. She handed it to him.

  “About three years now. Took me almost ten years to open the first shop. Worked for other people while I saved up.” Jayson sipped from the tumbler.

  Monette watched his throat work. “I’m always interested in how people go about building something for themselves. Not that I’m knocking working for somebody else.”

  “Yeah, it’s okay. I like having my own garage, though. More work than being an employee, ’cause everything is on me, but more freedom in other ways,” Jayson replied. “You’re chasing an even bigger dream than I am, being a famous talk-show host.”

  “Not so famous yet”

  Monette appreciated his modest way of complimenting her. He was no smooth talker full of fancy flattery. Jayson Odum might be just what he seemed—a shy, straightforward man. She had no experience with such a creature. Her past had been filled with flashy guys, the kind that turned out to be much more trouble than they were worth.

  “You were on national television and you have a bestselling book.” Jayson gazed at her with his head tilted to one side.

  ‘True, but the media moves on to the next big thing really fast. I’m skating on the last few seconds of my fifteen minutes of fame,” Monette quipped.

  Jayson shook his head with a serious expression. “I don’t think so. You know, you’re an entrepreneur, too.”

  “Who, me? Please. I’m sort of a disc jockey with no music working for the station. Actually I don’t even have that much job security, because I’m on contract,” Monette said with a grin.

  “Then as an independent contractor you really work for yourself. The show helps you sell books. You’re a motivational speaker and media personality. Think about Oprah. Sure, she’s in entertainment, but look at the people she’s helped directly and through her show.” Jayson nodded to her as though urging her to think big.

  Monette blinked rapidly at the new perspective he offered. “Me and Oprah. Shoot, put that way, I’m running with the big dogs,” she joked.

  “The way I see it the sky’s the limit.” Jayson grinned back at her and gestured with his hands. “For both of us.”

  Monette blushed at being paired with him, even if it was in the abstract. She watched the movement of his strong hands. “Yeah, I guess that’s a good way to look at it.”

  “I’ll bet you even have a business plan.”

  “Now that’s a stretch. I’ve never had a plan in my life,” Monette replied with a snort.

  “Bet you do,” he challenged.

  “You’re on. How much?” Monette dug in her pocket for small change. “Okay—all I’ve got is a few dimes and some lint.”

  Jayson laughed. “You’ve gotta be kidding. I didn’t literally mean—”

  “Oh, no, don’t back out of it now.” Monette snapped her fingers. “I have an idea.”

  “Now why am I getting worried by that look in your eyes?” Jayson crossed his arms. His playful expression implied he was anything but worried. Instead he seemed to be enjoying himself.

  “If I win and I indeed have no such plan, you must appear as a guest on my show. If you win, I’ll buy you a triple stacked ice cream cone at the deli down the street. Deal?” Monette put both hands on her hips.

  His grin spread wide. “Deal. You know you won’t get off with one of those flimsy little things.”

  “Big talk, but you don’t know how truly disorganized I’ve always been,” Monette tossed back. “Now, I never intended to write that book. Didn’t have any intention of being on television or the radio. Just fell right into it. Accidents, no plan.”

  “Uh-huh.” Jayson did not seem disturbed by her talk.

  “Believe it It’s in my book. Er, just check your schedule when you get back to work and let me know what day you’re available. Bam!” Monette gave her head a confident toss.

  “I started your book. You described your plan to bring media attention to your case. It worked, and once you had that attention, you decided to get your message out. You even admitted thinking of ways to sell books, with guidance from the PR person at your publisher. You were going after profits, and you had a plan. A business plan.” Jayson nodded slowly and smiled.

  Monette’s mouth dropped open. “Mama always said to watch those quiet types. You totally played me.”

  “I like cherry vanilla with those candy sprinkles and a tasty waffle cone. Umm-umm good.” Jayson chuckled when Monette groaned in mock distress.

  “Being the stra
ight-up good sport that I am, I’ll overlook how you scammed me into taking that bet. You’ll get your ice cream cone, slick.” Monette squinted at him. She pursed her lips to keep from smiling.

  “Long as you’re not bitter about it,” he retorted, then laughed harder when she growled at him.

  Sherrial rushed in. “Sorry you had to wait, Jayson. I’ve got two calls waiting and reports to write. Lord, what a day. Where do I sign?” Her words came out rapid fire as she huffed.

  Jayson grabbed the invoice from his back pocket and fished the car keys from a front one. “Right here. Came to one hundred forty-eight dollars and fifty cents.”

  “Fine. You okay?” Sherrial seemed to realize Monette was present for the first time. “Morning, Monette.”

  “Hi,” Monette replied.

  “My day is good so far. Hope yours gets better,” Jayson said, his calm exterior in sharp contrast to Sherrial’s frazzled state.

  “So do I.” Sherrial glanced at Monette, then at Jayson. She wore a curious expression when she looked at Monette again. “Better get back to my office. Bye.”

  “See ya,” Jayson replied and watched her leave. Then he turned to Monette as he folded the invoice and stuck it into his shirt pocket. “I’d better get back to the grind myself.”

  “Don’t even try it. You love every minute of all that hard work,” Monette said and followed him to the kitchen door.

  He smiled. “Yeah, you’re right. Means a lot more when you’re building something of your own.”

  “You could be a motivational speaker yourself,

  “Mr. Odum. I’m feeling very inspired.” She didn’t add that the inspiration was moving beyond commerce and into the personal realm.

  “Not me. I’m mostly into working with my hands. Not too big on speeches.”

  “Okay, I’ve got another bet for you. I’ll bet you are a speaker. If I win, you come on my show after all.” Monette gave him a determined look.

  “Nah, I don’t wanna take your money. Besides, I’m not talk-show material.” Jayson rested his hands on his narrow waist.

  “You do a lot of networking to benefit your repair shops, maybe even speak at small-business expos. Don’t deny it; Chaz mentioned that’s where he met you. Therefore you have the ability to speak about Quality Car Care Centers.” Monette could tell she had hit home by the amused twinkle in his eyes.

  Jayson’s mouth twitched just barely as he gazed back at her in silence for several seconds. “You got me.”

  The phrase set Monette’s mind down a road that had nothing to do with radio shows or auto repair shops, and she glanced down his top-quality body before she knew it. She swallowed hard to keep from panting at the sight of him. The man dressed up work clothes like nobody else she’d ever met.

  “Uh, you could talk about being a small business owner against the odds.” Through some miracle of self-control, Monette managed to get back to the subject

  “Let me think about it I’ll talk to you later,” Jayson said.

  “Okay.” Monette looked at him steadily. His brown eyes deepened into a kind of smoky topaz temptation.

  “Okay. Bye,” Jayson said and nodded.

  “Bye.”

  Jayson smiled one last time, as though to remind Monette just how enchanting his mouth could look curved up. That final shot of power wasn’t necessary. Monette had already counted all the delightful qualities he possessed. She was up to number ten when Candi entered the kitchen.

  “What was all that about? Wow-wee.” Candi wiggled her eyebrows at Monette and poked her with an elbow at the same time.

  “We were discussing a business proposition,” Monette said, then immediately realized she’d just handed Candi more ammunition.

  Candi let out a whoop. “Oh, yeah. Sound like y’all gonna be takin’ care of business alright.”

  “Shut up,” Monette tossed at her. She washed the few dishes they’d used.

  “Hey, ain’t nothin’ wrong with getting some good love from a fine man. Seems like you got Mr. Clean all worked up. That’s more than anybody else around here has been able to do.” Candi made a crude noise and rocked her hips from side to side.

  “Everything is not about hopping in bed with a man.” Monette dried the plates and glasses before putting them away.

  “No. There’s the sofa, the chair, the floor.” Candi continued to do a bump and grind routine.

  That Candi’s talk came close to what Monette had begun to feel toward Jayson struck a nerve. Monette wanted to think she’d grown past her old ways. She didn’t want to be the woman everyone expected. Sure, Monette had been bold, even brazen in her fight to get out of prison. She had used her old skills to get attention and influence people. But now she’d glimpsed a world different from her former environment of players and hood rats. Monette wanted to be part of that new world. Candi’s assumption that Monette was out of the hood but the hood wasn’t out of her rankled. Still, she pushed down a spike of annoyance at her friend.

  “Please,” Monette said dryly. “I’m not into jumping on the first man I see. I actually have goals that don’t involve sexin’ some guy I hardly know. So excuse me, cause I’ve got work to do.”

  When Monette started for the door, Candi curtsied. “Yes, your royalness. I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of your rise to the top of society.”

  Monette shook her head. “You are such a clown.”

  “Hey, let’s walk downtown later on.” Candi glanced around to make sure they were alone. “I can show you some places to party.”

  “Candi—”

  “We’re gonna have fun, girl. Big fun. Damn, I’m glad you’re here.” Candi gave Monette a good-humored shove, and then bounced out of the kitchen.

  “Yeah, me too.” Monette followed her, laughing at the silly dance steps Candi made down the hallway.

  ***

  The next week went by quickly. Thanks to Trudy and Sherrial, Monette had five speaking engagements lined up. All of them would count toward her community service hours, one of the conditions of her parole. Monette would not be paid for any of her appearances. Three would be lectures to female adolescents taking part in a court diversion program. The other two appearances were speeches at workshops. She still faced the challenge of filling up over two hundred more hours. Though Sherrial assured her there were other opportunities, Monette still worried. Then there were the group counseling sessions. Monette dreaded those meetings. Most of the women talked about bad childhood experiences or how much they missed their kids. One subject that really rubbed a painful place inside her was talk of motherhood. If Monette had to name her top five biggest regrets, disappointing her children would always be at the top of the list. Eventually Sherrial or Trudy would make each of the women face her own part in winding up in serious trouble. Such talk reminded Monette of every bad move or wrong choice she’d made.

  All these pressures made Monette even more nervous about her future. Her only solace was the fact that she at least had a guest for her Monday talk show. The subject, bad taste in men, was one she wouldn’t have to study up on, either. Still, by the end of the week Monette was feeling testy. Friday morning Monette was out of bed by six o’clock like everyone else. Candi, Tyeisha and several others ate fast so they wouldn’t miss the bus. Yarva found time to give Monette special, unwanted attention as they sat around the table at breakfast.

  “Got another big day, I hear. Givin’ a speech.” Yarva licked a spot of grape jelly from her thumb.

  “Yeah, Monette is gonna talk to some girls at the Second Chances Academy. That’s cool,” Tyeisha said with bright energy. She hadn’t noticed the trace of sarcasm in Yarva’s remark.

  “Wonder if your parole officer thinks it’s cool. She could throw a big fat monkey wrench in your plans. That would be too bad.” Yarva smiled at Monette.

  Candi squinted at Yarva. “Why should she care where Monette does her community service?”

  “Guess she figures something like picking up trash along the highway would bu
ild more character. Monette would look cute in one of those orange vests they make you wear, too.” Yarva picked up her plate and stood.

  “Sounds like you know a lot about picking up trash. But then you would,” Monette replied and affected a phony smile back at Yarva.

  Yarva thumped her plate down on the table again and stood over Monette. Candi and Tyeisha stood at the same time, ready to intervene. Monette finished her last spoonful of oatmeal as though she hadn’t noticed Yarva. She calmly sipped coffee from the ceramic mug. After a few more minutes of tense silence, Yarva backed away.

  “You don’t know me like that” Yarva stabbed a forefinger at Monette.

  “Goes both ways. We’re all out here trying not to make the same mistakes again. I’m sorry for what I said.” Monette did not want any more battles than she already had.

  “Yeah, right. Whatever.” Yarva picked up her plate. She let out a gruff laugh as she walked out “Three friggin’ cheers for the sisterhood.”

  “Okay, I tried.” Monette threw down her fork.

  Candi grabbed one arm when Monette started to go after Yarva. “Blow it off, girl.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.” Monette smiled at Candi to signal that her temper had cooled.

  The women eased into small talk. Moments later they went into the kitchen with their dirty dishes. Yarva was there, moving slowly, as though not interested in her task. She turned to them, still wiping her hands on a dishcloth.

  “Bout damn time y’all came in here to clean up. Tyeisha, it’s your turn, so stop tryin’ to duck kitchen duty,” Yarva snapped at her.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m here to save you from the dishwasher,” Tyeisha said lightly, trying to tease the older woman out of her bad mood.

  “Miss Media Star there might play mama, but I ain’t gonna. So don’t try that cute baby sister act with me.” Yarva glared at her.

  Monette felt her temperature rising again. “Leave the kid alone. If you spent as much time working as you do pissin’ me off, you’d be rich.”

  “Yeah, but I wouldn’t be havin’ half as much fun,” Yarva said with a sneer.

  “C’mon now, y’all. We don’t need all this drama about a few pots and pans. I’m gonna take care of it. Okay?” Tyeisha put a hand on Yarva’s arm.