Soulful Strut (36 page)

“Wish I could be so sure.”

***

Monette arrived back at New Beginnings two
hours later. The bus ride had been a lot of fun. Three women had
recognized her from the papers. Another man had heard her radio
show. Within two minutes, about one-thud of the riders had been in
a hot debate on crime. If Chaz had been taking a poll, he would not
have been happy. Many of the bus riders had been victimized and
hadn’t wanted to hear what they’d called “excuses to let thugs go.”
By the time Monette had gotten off at her stop, she’d had three
staunch supporters, two elderly women cursing hip-hop, and a
monster headache. She’d looked forward to the empty halfway
house.

All the women were out. Almost all. Tyeisha
met Monette at the front door.

“Gwen is here and—” Tyeisha broke off when
Sherrial emerged from her office.

“Come to my office, Monette.” Sherrial tilted
her head to one side and eyed Tyeisha.

“Umm, I gotta go do some ... stuff.” Tyeisha
glanced at Monette with a message in her dark eyes.

“My parole officer is here to check up on me.
No problem.” Monette looked back at Tyeisha, and then turned to
Sherrial. “Or is there?”

“I’ll let her tell you.” Sherrial led the way
to her office.

Gwen Anderson was standing in front of
Sherrial’s desk when they walked in. “Hello, Monette.”

“Hi. Your expression tells me this is not
good news.” Monette closed the door and waited.

“Did you attend a party where alcohol was
being consumed and known felons were arrested after a shooting?”
Gwen spoke in the monotone of a cop getting right to the point.

Monette clenched her back teeth. She steadied
her breathing to keep calm. After several more seconds of charged
silence, she nodded. “Yes.”

“Damn.” Sherrial rubbed her forehead
hard.

“Care to give a few more details?” Gwen
gestured to a chair. She watched Monette sit down. Instead of
taking a chair, she sat on the edge of Sherrial’s desk.

Monette thought about the lessons she’d
learned in prison. Friends could turn to enemies fast. Candi had
given her clear signals. “It was stupid,” Monette hissed.

“That much I already know,” Gwen said.

“I was invited to a party. Okay, so I figured
folks would probably be drinking, but I didn’t touch anything
stronger than cola. I was told it was just an old-school house jam
for grown folks. The guns I definitely didn’t count on. Some
youngsters showed up. Next thing you know bullets are flying,
everybody’s running, and we got outta there.” Monette shook her
head.

“We?” Sherrial’s usual good-natured
expression was gone. She looked all business as she considered
Monette’s words.

“Everybody at the party,” Monette replied
without missing a beat. “Look, except for that dumb move, I’ve been
walking straight.”

“I can vouch for that, Gwen. Don’t recommend
her parole be revoked after one bad decision,” Sherrial put in.
Still, she gave Monette a look of censure.

“I never do that after one mistake, but there
are special circumstances here. We need to follow every letter of
those parole conditions, and I have to enforce them all.” Gwen
glanced at Sherrial. “Give us a minute. Trust me— you don’t want to
know.”

“Yes, I do. I have a feeling this could
impact New Beginnings. Trudy is out of town, so that leaves me in
charge.” Sherrial crossed her arms and didn’t budge.

Gwen sighed and looked at Monette. “Of all
the people you could choose to take on. I know, I know. You didn’t
have much choice.”

“The SOB framed me.” Monette threw down her
purse and briefcase. “I’ve been fighting for years just to get out
of prison. I shouldn’t even be on parole. I didn’t do the
crime.”

‘Trust me, I’m feelin’ you,” Gwen shot back.
“Just calm down. Look, I’m getting pressure to watch your every
move. Somebody left an anonymous message at the office about that
party while I was out. My supervisor ordered me to get right over
here. You have to be a saint for the next fourteen months.”

Monette’s hands tightened into fists.
“Right.”

“I know that there is a gang back at LCIW
just waiting for you,” Gwen said.

Sherrial gasped. “You think Barron not only
wants Monette back in prison but has a hit waiting for her?”

“Do the math,” was all Gwen replied. She
grimaced, as though the words tasted sour.

“Oh, Lord.” Sherrial dropped into a chair.
“What can we do?”

“Be extra careful ’cause we’re all walking in
a minefield right now,” Gwen said with force. “You get my
meaning?”

Monette nodded slowly. She knew very well
what was at stake. The Barrens had used their network of political
connections to reach into the Probation and Parole Department. Winn
would not hesitate to use his network of criminals to silence
Monette. Not only that, he’d take down anyone else she cared
about.

“I understand Winn Barron’s methods better
than anyone,” Monette said. She thought about Jayson and made more
than one decision.

Chapter 18

Monette held her breath for a week. Even
though Sherrial and Trudy tried to reassure her, Monette expected
the worse. She dodged Jayson so he wouldn’t be pulled into her
troubles. She found all kinds of ways to tell him she was too busy
or tired to see him. Since they hadn’t had an argument, he believed
her. The longer they stayed apart, the more Monette saw reality.
After all, wasn’t facing the real deal what she preached on her
talk show? In the cold light of day, far from the effect of his
soft brown eyes and hard body, Monette did just that. She could
insert herself into Jayson’s black middle-class world, but no way
would Monette be a perfect fit. Dealing with women who had suffered
abuse, survived street life and still struggled to free themselves
was what she understood. Brunches and teas weren’t her thing. Candi
might have just been spiteful, but she’d had a point Monette
couldn’t ignore.

She still had not heard from the Pardon
Board. Though Jim tried to downplay the significance of how long it
was taking, Monette knew better. Normally the board would have
issued a decision by now. The controversy attached to her
application meant the heat was on them. A pardon recommendation
would be tantamount to saying they believed that Winn Barron had
indeed framed her. Maybe those interested in justice would overcome
politics. Right. Monette had no plans of holding her breath on that
one.

At the end of the day on Friday, Monette left
Second Chances feeling pretty good. For days she’d dodged a couple
of reporters until the story about the Pardon Board, her past and
Winn Barron’s denials had died away. When she walked out of the
building, Jayson honked, and then pulled up. The window slid down
smoothly.

“Hello, pretty woman. I decided to track you
down since you’ve been avoiding me.” Jayson peered at her over the
top of his designer sunglasses.

Monette swallowed hard under his scrutiny.
“I, uh, I’ve been so busy with the book and everything. And then
Danica has me working on this program and, well...”

“No time for me. I got it.” Jayson’s eyes
narrowed.

“It’s not that at all. I just have to juggle
all this stuff and comply with all the rules at the halfway house,
then ...” She stammered on, and Jayson nodded. His sympathetic
expression made her heart do a tiny flip. More than anything, she
wanted to be with him.

“In other words you’re too busy being a
celebrated author and talk-show host. Hanging out with a grease
monkey just isn’t exciting.” Jayson gave a melodramatic sigh and
placed a hand over his heart. An impish twinkle lit up his cocoa
eyes and softened her resolve to push him away.

She put a hand on one hip and shook her head
with a smile. “Oh, please.”

“Hop in and let’s celebrate the end of
another workweek.” He was still dressed in his work clothes.

Monette went around the front of the Jeep and
got in on the passenger side. “Well I’ve been working, but looks
like you’ve had the day off. That outfit looks mighty clean and
pressed. I don’t think you’ve been near an engine,” she teased.

“Mostly stayed in the office today. Got two
new mechanics, thanks to you.”

“Me?” Monette snapped the seat belt into
place and looked at him.

“Sure. Between those commercials on KTQL and
appearing on your show, my business has increased ten percent. We
needed more hands.”

“Of course the fact that you do good work has
something to do with it.” Monette smiled back at him, and then
glanced away.

“Yes. You bring in the customers and I make
sure they keep coming back. We make a great team.”

“Glad I could help,” Monette replied.

“Okay, enough about business. Let’s shake off
any frustrations or problems associated with work. Fun is now on
the agenda.” Jayson brushed a kiss across her lips before Monette
could reply. His deep voice hummed along with a rhythm and blues
song on the radio as he drove from the parking lot

True to his word, Jayson kept the tone light
for the next hour. Monette enjoyed the feeling of letting go for
the first time that week. They dined out at Kiva’s, an upscale
restaurant far away from the kind of world Monette saw most of the
week. A jazz quartet provided perfect mood music. Muted lighting
and the elegant décor must have been just what she’d needed.
Monette finally let go of the worries of the day.

“Thanks, and not just for dinner. You always
seem to know how to restore me.” Monette touched his face with the
tips of her fingers.

Jayson kissed them. “My motives aren’t
totally unselfish.”

“Now if I could just go home to my own place
tonight. Nothing fancy. Maybe a little apartment in a nice part of
town. A neighborhood where I won’t hear some kid’s speakers
blasting X-rated rap lyrics. Or gunfire.” Monette grinned as she
leaned closer to whisper. She looked at the upper-class clientele
around them. “These folks have no clue about that kind of
life.”

“It will happen, baby. How about you come
home with me tonight?” Jayson held her hand as though he intended
to sweep her away from all unpleasantness.

“I think that could be arranged. Since I’m a
semi-free woman these days with overnight visiting privileges. Just
have to leave contact info with the staff.” Monette gazed into his
eyes. She savored being the object of his desire. The magic moment
ended when a tall woman approached.

“Excuse me, Ms. Victor. I’m Elaine Strassner
with the Advocate. How are you?” The woman stuck out her hand.

“We’re having dinner.” Monette looked at her
hard. She recognized the name. Elaine Strassner had written the
article that had pretty much trashed Monette and cast doubt on her
story about Winn.

“Yes. I don’t want to interrupt your
evening,” Strassner went on.

“You already have,” Monette cut in.

“Naturally I’ll make an appointment to meet
with you. Here’s my card.” Strassner held it out, and then placed
it on the table when Monette didn’t take it “You have a chance to
get your side of the story out there.”

“I can save us both a lot of time and
trouble. No comment.” Monette could hear her voice getting louder
and feel her temper running hot.Strassner looked at Jayson
sideways. “Are you aware that Winn Barron personally contacted
friends who are using their influence to—?”

“I don’t give a damn about Winn Barron,”
Monette snarled. She started to go on but noticed two couples
nearby staring at them.

“Ms. Strassner, this isn’t a good time or
place,” Jayson broke in. “Ms. Victor has your card. Thank you.”

“Of course. I look forward to hearing from
you.” Strassner’s leggy stride took her across the dining room. She
joined a male companion who waited for her at the door. With one
last glance at Monette, she left.

“Humph.” Monette glared at the woman through
the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. “She’ll be waiting forever to
get that call.”

Jayson did not say anything for several
minutes. The waitress brought their food, and then left before he
spoke. “I’m not going to let anything else mess with our
evening.”

Monette wished the incident could be so
easily dismissed, but she knew better. “I’m sorry you’ve been
dragged into my soap opera life.”

“Hey, I’m used to having a celebrity
girlfriend,” Jayson said with a gentle smile. “No problem.”

“Yes, Jayson, it is a problem. I appreciate
how understanding you’ve been, but... damn,” Monette blurted out.
The people at the next table seemed to lean toward them to hear
more. Monette lowered her voice and pulled her hand free of his.
“This isn’t working.”

“Our celebration? Or do you mean something
more?” Jayson said. His gaze searched her face for answers.

“We both know what I mean.” Monette looked
away to avoid getting lost in his dark eyes. “Listen to your kid,
Jayson. Lenae has good instincts.”

“I love her, but no eight-year-old is going
to dictate my love life,” Jayson insisted.

“Get real. She’s a big part of your life and
she can’t stand me. Not to mention the rest of your family is
probably less than thrilled.” Monette gulped down sweet tea and
wished it were something with more of a kick.

“Nonsense. My family can’t wait to meet you.
Look, honey, I know you’ve had a rough week. Okay, a rough month,”
Jayson added when Monette shot a glance at him.

“Hate to tell you this, but drama is routine
for me. Let’s just postpone the family get-together. I’m not up for
it.” Monette fidgeted with her napkin.

“All right. In a week or so when things cool
down for you,” Jayson said, his voice even and reasonable.

“Not gonna happen. Listen, bottom line: we
need to skip it altogether.” Monette risked a look at him.