In Love by Christmas: A Paranormal Romance (7 page)

Cass’s head was half shaved. The dragon tattoo her hair had covered looked like it would come alive from her scalp. She screamed at him, “You are a
shit! You use people. You use me.
You want everyone to think you’re such a good father, but you’re not. People feel sorry for you because I’m such a
burden
, but they don’t
know
…”

She’d gone on like that, cursing and screaming, her sweater’s shoulder falling down to show her skeletal form.

He ran out of the house and called his pilots to take him back to the Bay Area. He’d cried all the way home, wiping away tears of pain and truth. She hurt him, almost mortally. He hated Cass. She was too smart and too sick and knew it was his fault. He hadn’t kept her safe. He hated her for being so smart. She saw through anything. Deeper inside, some part wanted to get back at her for the pain she’d caused him.

This time, he’d do it right. Havertin was right. Will was sure of it. Fuck Vanessa, fuck Leroy. Maybe that clodhopper cowboy would learn something where he was sending him. If he didn’t, see where he got with Cass. She wasn’t the tender flower he thought she was.

Cass was as snobby as the best of them when she was clean and sober. Dressed like a model in a fashion magazine and spoke like an English professor. She didn’t talk like a stevedore when she wasn’t on drugs, but she wasn’t a sweet thing that was so grateful, y’all. Leroy would get a big surprise, if her treatment worked.

Will picked up a crystal paperweight on his desk. For an instant, he wanted to throw it. He wouldn’t. He didn’t want Cass savaging Leroy over his manners. He wanted a family that worked. More than anything, Will wanted to do the right thing. This was it.

Two weeks later, when Leroy and Doug were flying across the Atlantic, Leroy had to admit that Mr. Duane was the most powerful and effective man he knew. He got a psychologist to hypnotize him. Leroy thought hypnosis would be like in the movies; he’d go to a creepy old house with cobwebs and spiders. A weird lady in robes would say, “Watch the shining ball.”

It wasn’t that way. A young man with a short beard had him sit down in a bright office. Then he gave him instructions. “Remember a time when you felt very strong.” Leroy did. Somehow the guy added in an airplane, then imagining sitting in one. Imagining it taking off. Took a few sessions.

After hypnotizing him so he wasn’t afraid
thinking
about getting on an airplane, the psychologist took Leroy to the San Jose airport. There, he had him climbing in and out of Will’s planes, from really big ones to itty bitty ones.

7

Jolly Olde England

O
utside of Will’s
home in Woodside, the condo in London was the most amazing place Leroy had seen, bigger and more luxurious than the one in New York. The apartment in New York had been all slick leather and straight lines, with artwork that looked like kids did it using duct tape and finger-paints.

This place was furnished with huge chairs and sofas covered with fabrics like the ones he’d seen on
Hermitage Estate: Upstairs and Down.
The pictures on the walls were of things you could recognize—people and horses and trees. Everything wooden was carved and polished and velvet draperies hung at the windows. Only the splendor of Will’s house in Woodside surpassed this urban palace.

Leroy stalked around, looking in the rooms’ doorways and peeking out the windows at the dark streets. They were shiny, wet with rain.

“You know what this trip is about?” Doug said, following him like a shadow.

“Oh, yeah. ‘Welcome to Will’s world.’” He couldn’t stop pacing. The nervousness he’d felt since he set foot on that plane to rescue Cass had caught up with him. “Will’s makin’ sure that if Cass and me get married, I won’t embarrass him.”

Leroy went back to pacing. He would have sworn, if he had been a swearing man. What was so wrong with him? Back home, he felt just fine in his skin, and his world. Step into Will Duane’s world and he had to be remodeled like a rundown house. Maybe get indoor plumbing for the first time. He kept moving, wanting to kick something.

He thought to himself,
Hold on, Leroy, if you want Cass, this is what you have to do. You have to fit into her world. Her world, not yours. Nothin’ wrong with you that these folks won’t find and make worse. Eat humble pie. Maybe you’ll like it.

Doug opened his mouth to say something, but the telephone rang. He grabbed it and scooted into his bedroom. Leroy could hear the strain in his voice through wooden panels.

“Baby, I will be home as soon as I can.” Doug burst out of the bedroom. He held the phone against his ear with his shoulder, partially covering the mouthpiece with his hand. As though that kept Leroy from hearing everything. “You’re OK. You’re at Will’s. Everyone cares about you. I’ll be home in a week, tops. You’re fine, sweetheart.”

Leroy followed Doug’s movements and words, becoming concerned.

“Don’t worry, baby. I love you. Can I talk to Carl?” Doug turned around as though he was heading back into the bedroom then stopped. “Carl? Is she OK?” He listened. “I need to be there. I’ll come home tomorrow.” A deep voice resounded from the phone, but Leroy couldn’t hear what he said, other than what the tone of his voice said, “No. You need to stay.”

“Can you take care of her for me?” Tough, worldly Doug had tears in his eyes. “Thank you, man. I owe you big time.”

He hung up the phone and looked at Leroy, desperate.

“Janice?”

“Yeah. She’s freaking out. It’s all too much,” he waved his hand around the room. Will’s world. “Do you know anything about Janice?”

Leroy knew all about Janice. He and Grandfather had rescued her from a situation similar to Cass’s. Too similar. She’d become an exemplary warrior, recovering from what life had thrust on her and her alcoholism. But Leroy sensed that Janice needed Doug and needed him now. All the work she’d done since meeting Grandfather was in jeopardy.

“Go home. I can take care of myself. I’m a spirit warrior.”

“No! You need me as much as Janice does. That’s why Carl told me to stay. You don’t know what you’re in for. Sit down, Leroy. I’m going to tell you the facts of life.” Doug indicated one of the overstuffed chairs. He sat on the adjoining sofa.

“You’re in charm school.” Doug’s mouth tightened. “Will is giving you this trip because he needs to stash you somewhere until we see if Cass is going to make it. She’s been hospitalized a bunch of times before. You know that. You don’t know that I was there for her a couple of them.” Leroy’s jaw fell open.

“Yeah. I was in love with her. I fell out of love with her the first time she got mad at me. Have you heard about Will’s temper?” Leroy shook his head. “No? If he blows up at you, you’ll never forget it. Cass is
off
the scale. She
attacks
.” He pulled up his sleeve and showed Leroy half-circle scars on his forearm, top and bottom. The scars bore tooth marks. “Cass. Thirty-six stitches.

“Most likely she won’t make it out of rehab clean. But if she does, Will wants you ready to take her off his hands.” Leroy slumped, brow furrowing. “If you asked Will what he was doing, he wouldn’t say that, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out.

“He wants you to fit in his world, which is also Cass’s world. She was raised like this.” He waved his hand, indicating the luxurious room.

“But what if she doesn’t make it and you don’t end up married? You’re Grandfather’s grandson. Whatever Grandfather has is in you too; anybody can feel it. You’re a valuable corporate asset. But Will needs a man he can send anywhere.”

Leroy stood up. “I’m not good enough for him?”

“No, you’re not. Not now.”

“Why didn’t he tell me that to my face?”

“Will doesn’t work like that. You know some things about him. What does he do if he want’s something fixed?”

Leroy was silent for a moment. “Sends a fixer.”

“And what am I?”

“You’re Will’s fixer.” Leroy wanted to head to his room and get his bags. “Are you fixing me?”

“What I can see that needs it. But there’s fixing and there’s fixing. There’s what we did to save Cass, and there’s me dealing with some lying motherfucker that needs his head kicked in. I don’t do that, but I do the legal equivalent.”

“What are you doing now?”

“I’m helping a friend. Will should have talked to you and said something like, ‘I need to have you more polished if you’re going to be going places with Cass or working for me.’ He didn’t; he sent me. Will’s an asshole, Leroy. I knew that before the Meeting, and I really know it now. But that’s not all of him. You’ve lived at his house. What do you notice about Will?”

Leroy was ready to leave. “He’s rich. He gets his way. He’s …”

“Not a bad guy. Sit down. What did you notice about the people he took to the Meeting? The people at his house?”

Leroy thought back to the retreat. He was only there a little while, but he remembered that the executives were an Asian guy, Melissa, and Doug. Some of the drivers died in the massacre, but they were white, Latino, and African American. His chef was gay. Living at his house now? Maybe fifteen people from the Meeting, Indians, all of them.

“Did he mind that Melissa, who everyone considers Will’s real daughter, married Wesley, the most Indian Indian on the planet?”

Leroy shook his head.

“That’s right. Will is
color blind
. Race does not matter to him. Neither does sex, sexual preference, or religion. He’s a really good person in that respect. What he cares about is
performance
. Get the deal done. Win the prize, no matter who gets hurt. And he cares about his favorites. He will back them—us—up beyond what you can imagine. As long as we come through and don’t betray him. The problem isn’t Will. Do you understand?”

“No.”

Doug blew out a breath. “Will wants you to fit in his world and make it with Cass. I want that too, Leroy, really a lot. I’m one of you; I’m a spirit warrior. I’ve never been around people like you. You love each other. And I feel you like me …
love
me.” Doug’s face worked like he was trying to spit out a poison toad. “You deserve to be the man you could be—not just the really nice, country guy. You could be master of the universe.” Doug seemed to be fighting with himself.

“What are you trying to say?”

“Oh, shit, Leroy. Some of the people you’re going to meet would make hamburger out of you for the fun of it. They’ll try to humiliate you. They’ll break you if they can. Why?”

“To get back at Will?”

“Yeah. But mostly, because you’re black.”

Leroy jerked.

“Will’s color blind, but some people you’re going to meet and have to charm are just plain racist sons of bitches. Not just racist. They think they’re descended from God because their ancestors got named Lord this or Earl that, most likely for doing shitty things to peasants living in the mud.

“If you don’t get the stuff Will has lined up for you right, they’ll keep you out of their world forever. And wreck your value to Will. They’ll do it so slick, you won’t know what happened.

“I know this, because they tried it with me. I was raised in Beverly Hills and my dad’s a CEO. I can play their games. But you’re a nice guy. They’ll cut you to ribbons. That’s why I need to stay here.”

Leroy stared at Doug, speechless. “Where do you think I’ve been, Doug?” he finally choked out. “You think the neighbors love my dad and me because we’re so nice? No. I heal every person and animal that can get to me for free. The neighbors
love
that. My dad’s a famous rodeo clown. A celebrity. Neighbors like that too. But not
all
of them.

“Back when my long-ago grandpa got the place, they wanted to shoot us Watches back to Africa. We didn’t get run off or killed because my daddy’s people had always had a mojo going. Juju. I got an
African
juju
and
Native
juju.

“You’re so afraid for me that you won’t go home to take care of Janice? That’s crazy, man.” Leroy shook his head. But Doug kept scratching at his head like Leroy was in terrible danger and couldn’t see it.

“The Rez was worse. I lived there from when I was six ‘til I was twenty. Do you think the reservation was
nice?

“if we stepped one foot off the Rez,
nobody
liked us.
Everyone
wanted to humiliate us and ruin our chances. Especially
me
, because I was Grandfather’s grandson
and
had African blood.

“You’re afraid I can’t handle people hatin’ me because of my skin?” Leroy shook his head in amazement.

“Yes.” Doug’s eyes misted again.

Leroy didn’t laugh. It was more of a convulsive chuckle. Doug’s feelings were nice, and unusual, but only a white man would think he was such a flimsy piece of business. He was sweet and kind because of Grandfather and the Great One and his own Self, not because people hadn’t noticed the color of his skin.

“You’ve never been where you’re going now.” Doug glared at him. “I know you think I’m stupid, but you don’t know what you’re in for.” Leroy could almost hear a growl under Doug’s breath. “We’re up early tomorrow for breakfast instruction, by the way.”

“Breakfast instruction?”

“Yes, sir. Breakfast and tableware. Do you know how many pieces of flatware there are in a formal place setting?”

“No.”

“Nine on a skimpy service. With three crystal goblets and three plates. And a bowl. How many courses does a formal dinner have?”

“Why are you asking me this?”

“Because Leroy, you may end up dining with heads of state. You need to know that a formal dinner has eight courses, with a ninth optional.”

“That’s what I’m going to be doing here?”

“Some of it. Will has a lesson in table settings set up for you tomorrow morning, then for a little quiz on what you learned, a formal lunch with Peter Alexander Payton Faxmore, Lord of Ballentyne at his club. Then we play golf with him and a few pals.”

“I’ve never played golf.”

“I’ve played it all my life. I hope you’re a fast learner. They’re good here.” Doug leaned toward him. “This is serious, Leroy. Your future hangs on mastering shit so stupid that if anyone ever told you that it mattered, you’d think they were joking.

“If you mess up with this shit, they’ll fry your ass. Except you’ll never know what you did. You’ll break some rule and you’ll never get invited anywhere in polite society again.

“That’s why I need to stay with you. To cover your ass when you screw up. And you will screw up.”

Doug’s blue eyes bored into Leroy’s like he was looking for the Titanic. “Anything else you want do before we turn in?”

“Yeah,” Leroy said, as serious as Doug. “They’re supposed to retire Jackie Robinson’s number at the Mets/Dodgers game tonight. President Clinton’s going to be there. Let’s see if we can catch the ceremony on TV. It may make you feel better about what a black man can do.”

Turned out they’d missed the presentation, so they channel-surfed the news. They stopped when the screen showed a couple of English newscasters standing in the dusty road leading to Leroy’s reservation. The unmistakable loaf mountain poked up in the distance.

“Well, Clive, still no sign of the hundreds of people who disappeared only a few miles from here.” The announcer looked like the raven-haired version of every newscaster Leroy had seen since news of what happened at the Meeting exploded around the planet. The camera panned the sky. Black military helicopters shot toward the Mogollon Bowl and the setting sun.

“Only a few miles up that road on reservation land, a mass murder as horrifying as the Jonestown/Guyana massacre occurred.”