Pretty Dangerous (8 page)

“Naturally, you’ve made contributions since
you’ve been here.” Kerry affected a sympathetic expression that
didn’t look natural for her. “I’m sure you need to settle in with
your little girl, catch up on loose ends at home, etc. Take another
week or so. Then we can talk.” Kerry closed the workbook.

“No,” MiMi clipped before she could go
on.

“Excuse me?” Kerry blinked eyelashes heavy
with black mascara at MiMi.

“The rest of the week should be enough.” MiMi
picked up the workbook and stood. “I’ll thank Tyler again for
pitching in on my way out. He followed my blueprint pretty well
considering his lack of experience.”

“That wasn’t exactly a suggestion, MiMi.”
Kerry looked up at MiMi stonily.

“I’ve spoken to Mr. Jenkins and Darcas.
They’re fine with me coming back Monday. In fact, Darcas said I
could come in tomorrow if I wanted. Oh, and before I came for our
meeting, Elle and the team brought me up to speed. Took less than
five minutes. Like I said, the work I did before I left was quite
thorough. Darcas agreed. See, I left her a detailed summary.” MiMi
held up the workbook.

Normally, MiMi didn’t rub Kerry’s nose in the
fact that she was on great terms with the regional VP and the
director of fashion merchandising. But MiMi needed leverage as
Kerry circled like a shark tasting blood in the water.

“I see.” Kerry’s jaw muscle worked as she no
doubt held in what she really wanted to say. She slowly stood, but
looked down at her desk for several seconds before she raised her
head. “Well played, Landry.”

“Look, we both want Fashion Sense to be
profitable. My reputation is built on how well we sell. The minute
I don’t produce, I’m out. No amount of chitchat with the bosses
about Mardi Gras and gumbo will matter. But they know I make money.
The numbers don’t lie.” MiMi met her gaze without looking away.

“Right, of course,” Kerry said. The words
seemed to be forced through her lips. She tried to smile, but it
ended up as more of a pirate’s sneer.

“We’re on the same team, Kerry. When I do my
job, you look good. I think Tyler is talented. He’s got a future in
this business. I’m going to do all I can to help him.” MiMi nodded
as she tucked the workbook into her large leather tote bag.

“How nice of you.” Kerry came around the
desk. “This job means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”

“My career with Zen Corporation means a lot
to me,” MiMi replied evenly. “I care about our company, and showing
my daughter that women can balance family and business. Being a
mother, I know you understand.”

“I do, and I’m glad we had this talk.” Kerry
smiled and held out a hand. “Monday then.”

“Monday, nine sharp as usual,” MiMi replied
and shook the cool dry hand.

****

Early Friday around noon MiMi sat in Jazz’s
apartment behind Candy Girls. Jazz ran a night club that also
included a restaurant. Workers from the surrounding blue collar
neighborhood streamed in to buy lunch. In another six to eight
hours the party crowd would dominate. Then the cooks would put out
free appetizers until midnight. Cheap finger food would go with the
more expensive mixed drinks. The sound system belted out the throb
of R&B music, the constant soundtrack of Jazz’s business. Until
the beat picked up, and rap lyrics were no longer G-Rated, families
with kids in tow would stop to buy supper plate.

Jazz sat on the living room floor playing
with Sage on a child’s tablet computer. They were surrounded by a
soft play pen gate since Jazz’s place wasn’t child proof. As they
tapped flashing baby animals in bright primary colors, music
played. Sage squealed as a rabbit hopped from one cupcake to
another.

“This carpet is the boss,” MiMi said, eyeing
the jewel tones of green, red, blue and gold of the Oriental wool
rug.

“Yeah, I had to redecorate.” Jazz let out a
whoop as baby fox chased the rabbit. Then she huffed. “Stupid
game.”

“In other words, you’re letting a two year
old beat you.” MiMi laughed.

Jazz scowled. “This game doesn’t even make
sense. All they do is bounce around on cakes and gobble up
candies.”

“Ba-ba.” Sage switched her attention to a
large purple ball. Her cute chubby legs kicked the soft bouncy toy
a few inches. She clapped as though she’d just achieved a winning
score.

“Whoa, my leg fell asleep.” Jazz got to her
feet. She closed the gate to keep Sage safe and then staggered to
the sofa.

“Getting kind of old to sit on the floor with
kids, huh?” MiMi teased.

“Watch it or I’ll throw you and your cheating
crumb snatcher outta here,” Jazz shot back. “You’re older than me.
Thirty-five your last birthday, right?”

“Thirty-one, and you d... darn well know it.”
MiMi kept her voice low. Not that Sage noticed. She carried her
teddy bear by one leg as she kicked the ball again. They watched
her for a few minutes as they sipped sodas.

“Your folks wouldn’t approve of you bringing
Sage to this part of town. The center of sin and depravity is only
a breath away,” Jazz said melodramatically.

MiMi laughed. “That’s a direct quote from
Aunt Ametrine. My mother would say ‘Sage should be exposed to a
more elevated social environment’. ”

“Translation: ‘Keep my grand baby out the
hood, girl!’” Jazz started to light a cigarillo, glanced at Sage
and put it away.

“They don’t mind throwing hints that I won’t
inherit if I keep hanging with the wrong people. That’s why I need
my own.” MiMi picked up dishes with the remains of their lunch from
Jazz’s café. She went to the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher.
Then she started wiping the counters.

“Okay, but running around the world after
Jack’s stolen cash is a bad, not to mention dangerous, idea.” Jazz
propped her feet on the sofa cushion. She waved at Sage with a
smile. The baby made squealing noises and continued to play.

MiMi carefully hung up the dish cloths to dry
on a towel holder. She scanned the kitchen and dining area one last
time. Then she joined Jazz on the sofa.

“I want something of my own, and for Sage. My
parents like the use their money like a club.”

“Nasty way to treat your own kids,” Jazz
agreed.

“Maybe, but I should be independent. Getting
a rich husband isn’t much better. I’d just trade one kind of
economic prison for another.” MiMi sighed and sank back against the
cushions.

Jazz gave her the side-eye. “Then why did you
chase Roderick so hard?”

“Insurance,” MiMi replied bluntly. “I’d have
my own money, and his would just give me more operating cash, a
cushion. What?”

“Sorta sounds like something your family
would do,” Jazz said just as bluntly.

MiMi gave a short laugh. “I was attracted to
Roderick, so it wasn’t all cold and calculating. But trust me; he
had status and my father’s assets in mind when he asked me out.
Plus our parents finessed our meeting.”

“Those social events to make sure all the
bourgie kids hang with the right crowd,” Jazz said dryly.

“Yes, the debutant balls, coming out teas,
dances, theater nights and parties all serve a purpose. People who
have things in common are attracted to each other. Like you and
Detective Addison.” MiMi gave Jazz a sly look.

“Yes, we’re still seeing each other. No,
we’re not going to live together. I like simple,” Jazz said
firmly.

“Oh please. Explain to me a simple
relationship with a man. I’ve never seen one.” MiMi gave a
snort.

“We have a little fun conversation, lot of
hot sex, and say see ya later. Simple.” Jazz winked at MiMi.

MiMi hopped up to cross the room. Sage had
escaped the baby play area they’d created. She’d become fascinated
with the buttons on Jazz’s expensive sound system. MiMi steered her
back to her toys. Once Sage became distracted with her teddy bear
and another toy, MiMi sat down again.

“Keep telling yourself that lie, okay? I’ve
seen the way you look at each other,” MiMi retorted.

“Whatever. Back to you and this money. Willa
is right. Concentrate on your career. Wow, can’t believe I’m
quoting her.” Jazz shook her head.

“Says the woman who owns a business. Working
for someone else isn’t insurance. I’m tired of kissing butt and
following someone else’s agenda.” MiMi picked up a throw pillow and
tossed it around.

“Didn’t sound like butt kissing the other
day. I can’t believe you went gangsta with the woman. You sure as
hell have changed.” Jazz studied her for a few seconds. “Look, I
realize you’ve been through some stuff, but don’t let it make you
hard.”

“Oh yeah? Look where being girly-girl has
gotten me. Jack crapped on me. My parents and sister push me
around. I don’t want my daughter to think she has to be a doormat
to get ahead.”

“I get you, girl. So let’s all clean up our
acts. Well, Willa’s pretty sanitized already.” Jazz laughed. “So
you and Roderick are through?”

“He tried to throw me under the bus. What do
you think?” MiMi retorted.

“The guy did tell the judge you weren’t in on
the drug buy. If he was going to set you up, he could have put it
all on you. You were taking a puff when the cops rolled up on
y’all.” Jazz shrugged when MiMi gave her a squinty-eyed look. “I’m
just sayin’.”

“I made a mistake, but I don’t smoke weed on
the regular,” MiMi whispered. “Apparently Roderick does.”

“Kinda hypocritical if you ask me. You drink
wine and martinis. Weed is a recreational high like alcohol.”

“Don’t forget the part about weed being
illegal,” MiMi replied tartly.

“All I’m saying is, y’all were on vacation
and he did something stupid. It happens.”

MiMi frowned. “Maybe if we were still
teenagers on spring break, but not at our age. Roddy should have
shown more judgment.”

“Says the woman who used him to chase down
laundered money in an offshore account.” Jazz ducked when MiMi
tossed the throw pillow at her.

“Shut up,” was the best MiMi could say as a
comeback.

“Okay, okay. Don’t get violent. You’ve still
got your job. That’s something.”

“For now. Kerry doesn’t know the real story
of my extended vacation.” MiMi chewed her lower lip. “I don’t know.
Flight complications and saying Roderick got sick sounds thin even
to me. What if...”

“Hey, what happens in the DR stays in the DR.
She won’t find out.” Jazz patted her on the leg.

“Yeah, I guess. I’ve been doing Internet
searches to make sure. So far I haven’t found anything.” MiMi let
out a slow breath to release the tension that had suddenly
tightened her muscles.

“See? And they haven’t contacted y’all about
the murder either,” Jazz said casually.

MiMi sat straight. “Oh shit.”

“I thought you said no cussing around the
baby,” Jazz scolded. Then her grin faded. “What’s wrong?”

“I haven’t searched for articles on the
murder. What if the police told some reporter I was
questioned?”

“Shit,” Jazz whispered.

“Get your tablet. I’ll look on my
smartphone.” MiMi grabbed her hobo bag to pull out her phone.

Both spend thirty minutes searching the
Internet. MiMi held her breath when she put in her name. Nothing.
Then she used Roderick’s name as keywords. All that came up were a
few stories about his company. They found only one article about
the murder on an obscure Caribbean news page. The article only
identified the victim and said no suspects had been identified.

“So you can relax.” Jazz poured soda in
glasses for both of them.

“Yeah, right.”

MiMi stared at the search results on Jazz’s
tablet. She still felt a sense of doom; like a hurricane that would
rock her world was building in those beautiful Caribbean waters.
Going to the Dominican Republic and asking about Jack’s account at
the bank there had stirred up... something. When Sage let out a
yelp, MiMi looked up and smiled with affection. Sage yawned as she
rubbed her eyes with chubby fists, fighting to stay awake. She
scooped her up and kissed her cheek.

“You’re right. It’s over. Come on, baby girl.
We’re going home. It’s time for your nap and for Auntie Jazz to get
back to work.”

****

In an hour they were home, and Sage was in
her playpen sound asleep on her favorite blanket. MiMi enjoyed the
quiet routine of putting the house in order. Maybe Willa was right.
She should count her blessings, forget dreams of a big bank
account, and just live. Then she sat down at the desk in a corner
of the kitchen to pay bills. Economic reality slapped her upside
the head repeatedly. After another hour of staring at figures that
didn’t change for the better, MiMi rubbed her eyes. The personal
finance software was pretty efficient in showing her the bleak
bottom line.

“Thank God I fought for my job, but it’s not
over,” MiMi murmured as she tapped the keys of her laptop.

Kerry wouldn’t give up. MiMi sighed at the
prospect of a daily battle. At least Kerry would return to
corporate headquarters in a village outside Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
The frozen Midwest was the perfect place for that icy witch. She
didn’t have an empathetic bone in her body. The next two weeks
would be touch and go, but once Kerry boarded that plane, MiMi
would be golden. First thing Monday, she would go in and make nice
to Kerry. MiMi doubted it would make a difference, but at least she
could tell Darcas she made an effort. The doorbell chimed just as
MiMi hit submit on the last electronic payment. She logged off the
credit card website and sighed.

“I sure hope this is the prize patrol from
that sweepstakes company.” She looked through the window beside her
ornate front door of thick beveled glass. “Damn it.”

“Hi MiMi. Don’t pretend you’re not home. I
saw the curtain move,” Roderick said quickly.

“I don’t have to. This is my house, and I
don’t have to open the door. I can just let you stand there looking
stupid,” MiMi yelled back.