Dinner with the Blakemores (The Blakemore Files Book 5) (5 page)

The office for Blakemore Imports & Collectibles was clean.  All of the inventory was sorted, shelved, and categorized.  It took another two hours, but orders were matched with products that were sitting, ready to be boxed, labeled, and shipped. Her sister needed an assistant, especially with the baby arriving in less than three months.

A wave of sadness struck Ryanne as she took a seat in the chair behind the desk.  The add-on room to the house wasn’t fancy. It was kind of a storage unit converted to an office.  Nothing about her sister’s home was elaborate; she lived a normal, uncluttered life, in rooms filled with splashes of color. Based on the calculations in her head, along with the packing slips she had seen, her sister was easily pulling an extra thirty grand a year from this side business. More melancholy kicked her in the gut as she realized that she would not have a job after next week.  There was no way she was going back to Corpus Christie and she sure as hell wasn’t going to work in the same building as that man.

Several other issues started knocking her about as she sat staring at the wall.
Who hired Dwight to seduce and marry me so he could keep an eye on Saxton and Odessa
? The tears, which were clogging her tear ducts for the past two days, were pinching on her nerves.
I will not cry over him
.
I refuse
.
I may cry over losing my bogus artificial life, but I will get another one
. On Monday, she had decided, she would call her boss to resign. In the meantime, she had to start over.  Her phone vibrated on the desk.  She didn’t recognize the number.

“Hello,” she said into the line.

“Hey there, my lovely smart lady.  I figured since I didn’t hear from you last night, that I would touch base with you this morning,” Eddie said into the line.

This was odd.  She didn’t remember giving him her number or her name for that matter. “How did you get my number?”

Eddie laughed into the phone. “I sent myself a text of the photo we took together. Besides, I had your number from the second I spotted you in the store.”

Ryanne leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs.  “And what do you believe you have dialed up, Eddie Casanova?”

His smile could almost be felt through the phone. “Eddie Casanova?  I like that.  I may change it to my new stage name.”

They both were quiet. He spoke first. “I’m on the move a great deal in my line of work.  Of course there are women who flock to me, and when I started, I will admit I partook of the offerings.  After a few years of that, it gets boring.”

“And what does that supposed to mean to me, Eddie?” 

“Oh come on.  You’re smarter than that.  What do you think I want from you?” he asked with some firmness in his voice.

“I honestly don’t know.  You are implying that you don’t want random sex, yet meeting me was random,” she told him.

“Nothing in this life is ever random, my sweet lady. We enter this life naked and scared and we hope to find another soul to share this existence, so that when we leave this plane, we are not naked and alone,” he told her.

Ryanne found herself smiling. “So in other words, you want to get naked and not be as scared as a small babe because every night you find yourself alone… And what am I to do about this loneliness that you pack up to travel with along this plane?”

“It is my hope that you stave it off,” he said softly.  “I’m not asking for much.  Dinner, some intelligent conversation, a few embraces to wish me luck before I take to the stage.  A few kisses when I come off of my set … rub my ego, tell me I was great….”

She was laughing. “You sure aren’t asking for much are you?”

“I am now asking for your name,” Eddie said in the line.

“Ryanne,” she paused.  “Ryanne Trodat,” she completed the sentence.  She was also going to file for an annulment or something next week as well. The name Dobbins she no longer wanted associated with her name.

Eddie liked how well this was going.  “Well, Ryanne, I am headed to Austin for a gig tonight, then on to San Antonio, a quick pop in Corpus Christie to handle an issue that has been causing me some grief, then I am in Houston for three days.”

She said nothing.

“Ryanne,” he called her.

“Yes, Eddie,” she responded softly.

“Meet me in Houston on Tuesday?” he asked her.

“I’ll think about it,” she told him.

Eddie held the phone as he looked out the window of the small waiting area at the airstrip. “There is something else I want you to think about as well.”  He sat the phone down and picked up his guitar.  He strummed a few chords and sang a soft melody. “I am really good with my hands and fingers, Ryanne.”

“Oh my,” she said in the line.

“I will see you on Tuesday,” Eddie said as he hung up the phone.

Eduardo was pleasantly surprised when he spotted Odessa’s sister in the store.  He had not expected her to be an attractive woman with intelligence radiating through her eyes. Ryanne had a lovely figure, a warm smile, and a quick wit. She was not anything like Dwight had painted her to be. His intention had been to kill her, but he found himself liking the woman, and something about her sadness bothered him.
I am the cause of it, sending the wrong man to be her lover
.

Dwight had called her a cold fish in bed.  There was nothing cold about her. In fact, she was quite the opposite.  Maybe what he had said to her had far more truth in it that he wanted to admit.  The mother of his children was a cold woman, not only to him, but to his four boys. The first five years of their marriage had been a test of his patience, and he wanted nothing more to do with her after she intentionally caused the birth defects in their youngest son.  A woman like that he had no use for.

He didn’t mind being a widower. He also had no qualms about being a widow maker.  “Seňor,” his pilot called to him, “we are fueled and ready to head to Corpus Christie. You may board when you are ready.”

He was more than ready. Dwight had lied to him about Ryanne. Eduardo was also wondering what else his informant had lied about.

Mariana was seated on the plane when he boarded. “Is everything okay, Seňor?”

“No.  My toe still hurts like hell and now I have to go and personally kill someone else,” he said as he plopped down in the seat and removed his boot.  “I swear, with the exception of you, you just can’t get good help these days!”

Odessa walked into the office as Ryanne ended the call. “Was that your attorney, Ryanne?”

“No,” was all she said.

As Odessa’s eyes scanned the room, a giant smile came over her face. “Wow!  Thank you so much.  I tell you, Ryanne, these last two months it seems like all I do is eat, sleep, and poop. I am so behind, and I could really use some help.”

“Whatever you need, Odessa.  I am glad to lend you a hand,” she said.

“That is great news, because I just got off the phone with Saxton and he wants us all to come to Houston next week for Thanksgiving. I’m going to need your help convincing Mom and Dad,” Odessa said.

“Houston?  Next week?”  Ryanne repeated.

“Of course, you are coming, as well as Kevin. I think Saxton said he invited Roget, Antoinette, and Victorío,” she said.  Odessa wrapped an
Artesanía
pot in with bubble wrap before she put it in a box with shipping popcorn
.
“I think it may be a nice change of pace for the holiday, and his folks really like to cook.  Lots of good food,” Odessa said.

She stopped talking when Ryanne walked up behind her and enveloped her in her arms.  “Thanks, ‘Dessa. Thank you for everything.”

With a quick pat on her sister’s arm, Odessa said, “Anytime you are ready to talk, Ryanne, I’m ready to listen.”

Ryanne only smiled as she thought of Eddie’s words:
Nothing in this life is ever random
.  Next week she would be in Houston. She saved his number in her phone and used the selfie for his profile picture.             

Saxton had never cleaned out his closets in his old room at the ranch.  Since losing a few pounds, most of the clothes still fit.  He pulled out his charcoal grey suit, a white shirt, and a red tie.  His father had been very surprised when he came home from work the day before and found Saxton sitting in the kitchen, munching on gingersnaps Patsy had baked earlier for him. They said little as he joined his father for a late evening ride.  Even Longshot, his horse was glad to see him. At his request to his parents, he asked that they not tell his sister and brother he was home.

Today, he planned to surprise Belva by showing up at the office and taking her to lunch. He had called ahead and managed to get on her calendar because she was a very busy woman.  Belva Blakemore was the philanthropic arm of Blakemore Oil. Last year, she took on the job full time after leaving the University.  Her role in the company took care of the foundation, which supplied funds to Texas-based and national charities. Her offices were located on the sixth floor of the ten-story building.

Saxton hated the offices of Blakemore Oil. All the glass and shiny people who plastered on fake smiles as they kissed your ass because of the last name of Blakemore. He always resented being the oldest by default.  Robert, Jr., was the eldest son, who died suddenly at the age of ten, and their mother was never the same. It was then that she began her afternoon sip fest of mint juleps. The less responsibilities she had, the more she drank. Her oldest son and heir was gone, Saxton became the heir apparent. Technically, the job of CEO of Blakemore Oil belonged to Robert, Jr.  Saxton’s role would have been to oversee the ranch, a job that was currently held by his Uncle Dusty, but he opted instead to leave home and make his own name.  The name Blakemore carried a great deal of weight in Houston, and it was something he learned at a young age was not always a good thing.  People disappeared at the snap of a Blakemore finger and the police looked the other way.

Belva’s husband had disappeared.  Saxton knew better than to ask questions.  He never asked them of his sister, and she never asked any of him. As he entered the glass building, heads turned and snapped.

“Is that Saxton Blakemore?” one redhead asked.

“Saxton Blakemore just walked into the building in a suit,” said some man with a large cup of coffee.

An older gentleman in a brown suit asked, “Is he finally going to take over the company?”

He could hear them all and he responded to no one.  He rode up in the elevator in silence to the sixth floor.  More heads turned as he made his way down the halls in his very expensive shiny black shoes and very expensive charcoal grey suit. What he was wearing now probably cost more than the right side of everything in his closet at home in Dallas.
I remember when this type of stuff was important to me
. What was important to him now was family.

“I have an 11:30 appointment with Ms. Blakemore,” he told the assistant behind the very large wood desk.

She leaned forward with breasts too large for the small top she wore and pressed the button.  “Ms. Blakemore, your 11:30 appointment has arrived.”

Her Texas drawl could be heard through her office door as the scent of her overly expensive perfume arrived in the waiting area before she did. “I don’t have an 11:30 appointment, Clara,” she said as she flung open the door.

“Saxton?” she said with surprise as she looked at her big brother.

“Yes.  I am your 11:30.  Your calendar has been cleared until 2 pm and you, my dear sister, are all mine,” he said to her.  He extended his elbow. “Grab your purse and let’s ride.”

Her lips were moving but no sound was coming out.  Saxton loved it.  He dropped his elbow and moved around her to the drawer where she kept her purse.  He grabbed it, pushed it into her hand, and pulled her towards the door.  “We will be back at 2, Clara,” he told the woman who was grinning at him like a basket case.

Belva still had not found any words even when they reached the lobby. Her inability to speak only worsened when Saxton walked over to open the door to his Grandmother’s 1976 Cadillac Seville. It was probably the last time Patsy drove it as well.  The car was a funky baby blue in color but in mint condition and ran like a dream.

“Saxton, what is the meaning of all this?  You are wearing a suit.  You walked in the doors of Blakemore Oil… taking me to lunch … oh God!  Is Mama about to die from cirrhosis of the liver?” Her cheeks were flushed and pink.

He pulled the car from the curb and drove to what he knew was her favorite restaurant. “No, sis.  I’m in town to spend some time with my family.  You have a new job title coming up and I just wanted to sit down with you one-on-one and spend some time,” he told her.

“What new job title?  This is all freaking me out!” she said to him as she ran her hands through her long mane of black hair.

“Belva, you are going to be an aunt in three months,” he said as he glanced at her.

She was grinning. “Oh my God! That’s right, Saxton, you are going to be a dad!” The conversation picked up between them as they shared childhood memories about Uncle Dusty, their aunts, and good times.  Belva never complained about either of her brothers.  They were good men and good to her. Even when she went through a phase of bad boys and not loving herself, her brothers were always there, pruning off the weeds which kept trying to take root around her.

Grandma Patsy had become a surrogate mother to them as their mother began to mix the pills with the highballs, and when Lucy’s mornings started at noon.  Belva, desperate for attention, sought affection from many of the wrong men.  One, she even married.

Colton Hornsby was the worst kind of snake.  A man of little to no character who made it obvious he only wanted Belva for her money.  After whisking her away to Vegas, he was disappointed to find that Bobby Ray had tied the money up and only gave her enough to live on each month.  Once the rent, her car note, and utilities were paid, there was little left over for anything else. Colton had to get a job to help support his wife.  Yet the disappointment continued when he also found out that Bobby Ray was not going to give him a cushy job at Blakemore Oil, but instead gave him a field hand job on the ranch working with Dusty.

His frustration in not having access to the Blakemore bank was taken out on Belva. It started subtly at first, moving her further out and away from her family. Next, he started beating on her self-esteem, taking chunks of an already low self-confidence away. Saxton stayed in constant contact with his sister, as she shied away from their father. When Colton started laying his hands on Belva is when Saxton took exception.

It was also at 3:30 in the morning when she called him from the closet in the bedroom of the nasty little rat hole they called their home. Saxton arrived at the ratty apartment to find his sister beaten and bleeding.  He believed it only fair to do the same for Colton.

The damage from that night lasted far longer than anyone had anticipated.  The child that Belva was carrying did not survive.  Neither did her ability to conceive another child in her lifetime. When Saxton carried her limp body to his truck, he left Colton’s in the floor of the apartment.  A call to his father from the hospital and that was the last anyone saw of Colton Hornsby.  To this day, Saxton had no idea whether or not the man was dead or alive. A 3:30 am phone call changed his life.

The phone call from Ryanne brought back the ugly memory. The next few phone calls that arrived were going to bring back a few more memories for the Blakemores, as well as the Trodats. If there was one thing that Bobby Ray had taught him, if you see something once, it is random; you see it twice it is more than a coincidence. If you see it three times, it is a pattern and intentional. But Saxton had also learned on his own that there is no such thing as random.