Soulful Strut (9 page)

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 straight-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.