Cup of coffee in hand, Joi took a seat in the lobby of the Citadel Security office. She’d pulled up the Thursday morning episode of News One Now on her tablet, and watched it as she waited for her interviewee to arrive. The appointment was set for eight thirty, so she expected to have at least twenty more minutes of solitude before Karen came in.
As her routine dictated whenever her guards took on a new contract, she planned to spend a couple of hours at the office before heading to the bank. She’d spend the rest of the day with her staff at the worksite, and continue to do that through the trial period. It was her way of making sure things ran smoothly, because despite her confidence in her guards, she was always extra cautious when they began a new job.
When the episode of the news show ended, Joi shut down her tablet and looked up. No sign of Karen. I wonder what’s going on. In the eight years they’d been in business together, Karen had only been late to work twice. Both times, she’d been involved in a mishap of some kind. Punctuality was Karen’s hallmark, so any time she was late, Joi got worried. Reaching into her purse, she fished out her smartphone, preparing to search for Karen’s contact.
Before she could unlock the screen, an incoming call flashed on the display. Swiping, she answered it. “Hello?”
“Hey, Joi. It’s Gabe.”
Hearing the voice of Karen’s husband on the other end of the line made Joi’s hair stand on end. “Oh, God, Gabe. What’s happened to Karen?”
“Nothing too serious, but she did take a fall this morning. We’re at an urgent care now, but we’re being transferred to the hospital.”
“A fall? Where?”
“At the house. She slipped on a patch of ice in the driveway.”
That didn’t surprise her, considering last night’s weather. It had been unseasonably cold, with temperatures dropping down into the teens. “How bad is it?”
“I’m not really sure, but she’s probably broken her arm. They’ve got it in a sling right now.”
She sucked in a breath, glad that some of the neighborhood kids had come by to salt her driveway and sidewalk yesterday afternoon. “Ouch. What hospital is she going to?”
“Carolinas, in Pineville.” Gabe’s voice conveyed the concern he had for his wife. “I’ve already taken the day off from the optical shop so I can stay with her.” Gabe was an ophthalmologist by trade.
“Good. Look, I’ve got an interviewee coming in any minute, but as soon as I’m finished with that, I’ll be over to check on Karen.”
“I’ll let her know.”
“Give her my love, Gabe.”
“I will.” He disconnected the call.
Joi sighed aloud, releasing the sound into the empty lobby. She hoped Karen wasn’t in too much pain, because it sounded like she’d taken quite a spill. Now she’d have to calm her nerves, because she still needed to be able to focus on the interview she was about to conduct.
Since this turn of events meant she wouldn’t make it to Royal until much later than she’d intended, she put in a call to the bank. After informing Roosevelt of the situation, and asking him to pass her message on to Marco, she tucked her phone back into her purse and went to refill her coffee mug.
By the time she returned from the break room, she heard the bell chime over the door. She crossed the lobby, her free hand extended toward her interviewee. “Ms. Mendez?”
“Yes.” The woman, who was of average height and slender build, had fiery red hair and a bright smile. She reached out to give Joi a firm handshake. “You must be Ms. Lewis. Good morning.”
“Good morning. Come on in and have a seat.”
The two of them sat across from each other in upholstered chairs in the lobby, with a short-legged coffee table between them.
Joi asked, “Would you like a cup of coffee, Ms. Mendez? There’s a fresh pot in the break room.”
“No, thanks. I’m more of a tea drinker, but I’m good for now.” She settled back into the cushion of her chair. “And please, call me Maravillosa.”
“That’s a beautiful name, by the way. It means ‘wonderful,’ doesn’t it?”
Maravillosa responded with an easy grin. “Yes, it does, and thank you.”
Taking the resume out of a folder she’d laid on the table earlier, Joi began the interview by going over some of Maravillosa’s experience. “I see you’re an Air Force veteran. I’ve never had the pleasure of having one on my staff.”
“Yes, ma’am. I served fifteen years as a 3POX1B combat training and maintenance specialist.”
They spent the next half an hour talking about Maravillosa’s time in the service, her career goals and why she’d applied for the position. Joi did her best to be attentive as Maravillosa answered her questions, but part of her mind was distracted by her worries about Karen.
Finally, Joi stood. “Maravillosa, I think you might be a good fit for Citadel, but I’ll need to discuss this with my partner. We’ll be in touch with you soon.”
Maravillosa gave her another firm handshake. “Thanks so much for your time, ma’am. I look forward to hearing from you.”
With a wave, Maravillosa Mendez pushed open the door and left the office. Joi returned to the break room, fetching her pea coat from the coatrack. Once she’d slipped into it, she placed a wool beret atop her hair, pulled on a pair of red leather gloves and grabbed her purse from the chair she’d been sitting in. Pushing the door open, she frowned at the cold blast of air that met her, then hurried to her truck.
Morning rush hour in downtown Charlotte had come to an end, so it took her less than fifteen minutes to reach the hospital. After she parked, she entered the building and went straight to the nearest information desk to find out where Karen was. The man there directed her to the orthopedic unit on the third floor. Finding out Karen’s location from the serious-looking nurse at the station took longer than it had to navigate the city streets. After butting up against the nurse’s insistent declarations about hospital privacy laws for a full fifteen minutes, Joi put in a call to Gabe and asked him to pull some strings. The phone rang behind the nurse’s station, and the salty lady in scrubs took the call. After a brief conversation with the person on the other line, the nurse finally directed Joi to Karen’s room.
Entering the room a few minutes later, Joi was relieved to see Karen sitting up in bed. Her dutiful husband kept watch over her from his seat in an armless chair to the right of her bed. Karen’s right arm was indeed in a sling, but other than that, she seemed to be okay.
Standing by the left side of the bed, Joi grasped Karen’s free hand. “Girl, you scared me. How are you feeling?”
Karen grimaced. “I’ve been better, but the pain meds they gave me are starting to kick in. Finally.”
“Gabe says you slipped. How bad was it?”
“I was outside rinsing mud off my undercarriage yesterday. I wasn’t really thinking about how cold it would get last night.” Karen shifted in bed, and grimaced again.
Gabe was at her side in a flash. “Baby, you’ve got to stop squirming. I don’t want you to make the injury any worse.”
Karen rolled her eyes, but leaned in slightly to accept her husband’s kiss on the cheek. “See what I have to put up with? I’m incapacitated and he’s still policing me.”
Joi shook her head, chuckling at their interaction. “Has a doctor seen her here yet? What do we know about what’s wrong?”
Gabe replied, “They’ve taken an X-ray, and we’re waiting for the results. But like I said, something’s probably broken. You don’t want to see what her arm looks like underneath that sling.” He frowned.
“Ouch.” Joi tsked, shaking her head.
“I am in the room, you know. You could just ask me.” Karen stuck her lips out in a mock pout.
“Hush, before I go after the other arm,” Joi chided.
Joi hung around for about an hour, during which she got to hear the doctor’s report. Karen’s right wrist was indeed broken, and she’d also dislocated her shoulder. All told, she would need to be out of work for at least two weeks, maybe longer.
After the doctor left, Karen turned to Joi with a guilty look on her face. “Geez, Joi, I’m sorry about this. We’ve just taken on a new contract, and now I’m going to be out of commission.”
Joi waved her off. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve still got your assistant to help me with the tech stuff, and I’m fully staffed on guards. I’ll be fine until you get back.”
Karen didn’t look particularly convinced. “Are you sure? Because maybe I can telecommute, and use one of those dictation programs to...”
“No. I want you to concentrate on getting better. If I need you, I’ll call you, but only if it’s absolutely necessary.”
“But, Joi, I...”
Joi silenced her friend and business partner with a cutting look. “Rest, Karen.” She turned to Gabe. “Will you do me a favor and make sure your wife gets her rest?”
Gabe nodded. “You know I will.”
“Good. I’ll swing by the house in a few days to check in with you, okay?”
Knowing she’d lost the battle, Karen sighed. “Okay. I’ll be good.”
Satisfied, Joi gave Karen’s hand a squeeze. “Then I’ll see you later. I’ve got to get over to the bank.”
With a wave to Karen and Gabe, Joi slipped out of the room.
* * *
With the wooden reed to his saxophone sticking out of his mouth, Marco settled onto the stool in front of his music stand. He wore his neck strap loosely around his collarbone, securing his control of the sax. He and the Gents were set up in the music room in his house for their weekly Saturday rehearsal. The spare bedroom, with its large bay window and high ceiling, provided the perfect acoustics and lighting for the band to practice.
Once he deemed the reed properly dampened, he set in the mouthpiece of his sax and tightened the gold screws that held it in place. Putting the mouthpiece between his lips, he blew into it, playing a middle C. Not liking the way it sounded, he continued to blow, stopping periodically to make adjustments.
Across from him, Darius was ensconced in the window seat, setting up Miss Molly, his beloved upright bass. Ken had already set up his drums, and busied himself tapping out a rhythm on the snare and high hat cymbal. Rashad sat on the bench in front of Marco’s aged upright piano, picking out a few notes to test the tune of the old eighty-eights.
Darius’s voice broke the near silence in the room. “Are we going to do the Cole Porter set this week? We had a lot of requests for it last week.”
Marco shrugged. “It’s fine by me, if that’s what the ladies want.”
Ken chuckled. “Heaven forbid you don’t deliver what the ladies want.”
A few snickers broke out in the room, and Marco cut his eyes at the drummer. “Shut up, Ken.”
Rashad, still tapping keys on the piano, spoke then. “I’m going to guess you’re not having an easy time with your new security contractor.”
Marco rolled his eyes. He’d hoped to avoid that particular subject today. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Oh, come on, Marco. You’re the one who’s always bragging about being a ladies’ man. Now you want to clam up, the one time we’re actually interested?” Darius gave him a look of amusement from his perch in the window seat.
Rather than answer, Marco attempted a middle C from the saxophone but it still didn’t sound quite right to him.
“Darius is right,” Rashad remarked. “Does this mean Ms. Lewis is immune to your many charms?”
Marco let the mouthpiece fall from his mouth, and rested his sax against his right hip. “No, she’s a woman just like the rest of them.” That statement was only partially true. Yes, Joi Lewis was a woman, but there was something about her, some appealing quality that set her apart from her peers.
“Really, Marco?” Darius folded his arms over his chest, looking very much unconvinced.
“She’s not immune. She’s just...stubborn.” It was the truth. Marco had never encountered a woman so determined to dismiss his many positive qualities.
Another round of chuckles filled the room.
“It’s true,” Marco groused. “She’s already admitted she’s attracted to me, but she’s decided to ignore it.”
“Why?” Darius’s tone was mocking.
“She wants to keep things strictly professional between us, because she doesn’t want any preferential treatment when her company’s trial period is up.”
“I don’t see why you’re complaining. She’s doing the right thing, and possibly saving the both of you from a potentially awkward situation.” That comment came from Ken, who’d laid down his drumsticks and was now shuffling through pages of sheet music.
“It’s too late for that.” Marco wanted to elaborate, and tell Ken that things between him and Joi were already plenty awkward. But he knew there was no point. His friends, in typical Gents fashion, were going to keep entertaining themselves at his expense, at least until someone changed the subject.
“Did you get a chance to kiss her? That usually turns women into putty in your hands, right?” The snide question came from Rashad.
He recalled the kiss they’d shared. The memory of the softness of her lips was particularly potent. “Yes, I kissed her. And you can now stop being an ass about this, before I use your locks to strangle you.” Marco cut a censuring look in Rashad’s direction.
Darius cut in. “All right, guys. I think we’ve teased Marco enough. We need to start deciding on a set list and a stage costume for the Winter Jazz Fest, and then we need to actually practice so we don’t sound terrible when we take the stage this week.”
Marco listened as his bandmates went back and forth about the upcoming jazz festival, relieved that the heat was finally off him. The four of them conversed for several minutes about what songs they would play, and how they would alter their usual stage wear for the event. The Winter Jazz Fest typically drew large crowds numbering in the thousands. Getting in front of an audience that large was a big deal for the Gents. While none of them considered themselves career musicians, they all agreed that their love of the music made them want to reach as many people as they could.
“All right, so we’ll do a few original songs, and round the set out with the crowd-pleasers—Monk, Miles and Coltrane.” Darius jotted the tentative set list on a legal pad. “Sound good?”
Everyone agreed.
“Great, now let’s practice. We’ll run through ‘Anything Goes’ first. Count us off, Ken.”
As the men readied their instruments, Ken raised his sticks above his head, crossing them in a V formation. Tapping them together, he gave the count. “Five, four, three, two.”
All of them began to play their respective parts, the sound blending together to provide a pleasing backdrop to Rashad’s impassioned crooning.
The sound was, quite literally, music to Marco’s ears. As he moved his fingers over the keys of his saxophone, turning his breath into the clear notes supporting the harmony, he felt a certain joy rising inside. This level of peace was something he only achieved when he played his sax, and if it were possible, he’d live there. And when the notes from his sax joined with Rashad’s skillful piano playing, the deep notes echoing from Darius’s fingers playing over the strings of his bass and the rhythmic cadence of Ken’s drums, they created something truly magical. Each man played off the other, combining their talents to give new life to the classic jazz compositions they all knew and loved.
When the first song ended, a collective cheer went up in the room.
Rashad had a broad grin on his face. “Damn. We’re hot today, y’all.”
Marco had to agree. He imagined his own playing might have been affected by the song’s lyrics and meaning, and how it related to his current feelings about Joi. But since he’d survived his friends’ earlier barrage of questions, he knew better than to bring the subject back up again.
The band moved on to the next song, Cole Porter’s classic, “Night and Day.” As Marco played the notes, he continued to let his passion for the music, and his growing fascination with Joi, inform his execution. She might never come around, but at least he’d have the inspiration she provided to fuel him toward the pinnacle of his talents.
Knowing that made him feel somewhat better, so he smiled around the mouthpiece of the sax, and gave it his all.