ALTHOUGH JACQUI WAS tempted to run the contracts through the shredder, they sat on the corner of her desk, waiting for Rutherford’s signature at dinner tonight. Hiring a company outside of Biloxi just seemed like a betrayal to what Marc and she had committed to after Katrina, and she had betrayed him enough by not being with her family when the plane crashed. Yet, according to Brent in their conversation after the business lunch yesterday, it was their best opportunity to get the community center started.
“He’s willing to do it as cheap as possible just to showcase what he can accomplish,” Brent said back at the office. “You want the community center to be a nonprofit, and to be honest, with the economy the way it is, The Karston Foundation can’t afford to carry it. Even with the fundraiser planned in a couple of weeks, we need to cut corners without sacrificing quality. Neal Rutherford is your best chance of doing that.”
“Marc would never have gone for it.”
“Jacqui, Marc isn't here. You are, and you’re the one fiscally responsible for this company. As your financial adviser, I’m telling you this is the smartest move.’
She knew Brent would not purposefully have her go against Marc’s vision unless it was necessary. She trusted her adviser to have her best interests at heart, as well as the foundation’s. That didn’t take her feeling of betrayal away, however. She had nodded, surrendering. “I’ll have Lily draw up the contracts.”
She glanced at the contracts now sitting on the corner of her desk like an accusing finger. At least, the employees would be local, even if the company was an outsider. While she knew Neal’s long-term goal was to become a part of the community, not wanting to remain an outsider for long, part of his company would always be located somewhere else. He lives somewhere else, so not all the money would stay local. It was the first compromise she made since Marc passed away, and it settled like bile in the pit of her stomach. She needed a break.
Her father was still in a burly mood according to her housekeeper at her last check in—poor Sophia— and Jacqui didn't feel up to a round of verbal boxing with him. She wasn’t sure how Sophia could put up with him day in and day out, but the lady always had a smile on her face. She had been that way since Marc hired her right after Katrina while they were building The Karston Foundation. She lived with them, did all the cooking and the cleaning. She even acted as a third parent to Maggie at times. After the plane crash, Jacqui counted on Sophia to keep her home from falling down around her as much as she depended on Karl to keep the office running smoothly. Luckily, Marc had surrounded them with strong, talented people. Jacqui didn’t think she would have made it, otherwise.
“I’m heading out for a while,” she said, passing Lily’s desk. “Please send Mr. Wellington an email informing him of my dinner tonight with Mr. Rutherford to sign the contracts. We’ll also need to get Rutherford Construction to meet with the architects. Please arrange a meeting here at the office.”
“I’ll take care of it, Mrs. Karston. Enjoy your lunch.” Lily was already scribbling away her newest instructions. Jacqui knew the young woman would take care of everything with the greatest efficiency. She always did.
The Biloxi heat hit Jacqui as she pushed her way through the glass doors into the fresh air. Winter was gone and spring had sprung upon them with flowers and pollen leaving its dusty coat everywhere. While the nights still held a slight chill, the days were already sweltering. The pre-lunch traffic was heavy as she slipped out of the parking lot onto Caillavet Street, turning left toward Highway 90. She wasn’t hungry. Not yet, at least. She needed to talk more than she needed to eat right now, and there was only one person she trusted with her inner turmoil.
Fifteen minutes later, she pulled into the Old Biloxi Cemetery off Irish Hill Drive, a knot forming in her chest as she passed the entrance. Off to the left, a groundskeeper trimmed hedges around one of the mausoleums. To the right, mourners huddled around a tombstone, visiting their lost loved one the only way they could, the same way she visited her family.
Once she reached Marc’s gravesite, she knelt and set back on our heels, her hands fidgeting with one of her husband’s handkerchiefs she carried with her, knotting and unknotting the corners. Maggie’s grave was on his left and to his right was a plot reserved for Jacqui. A pang of guilt tugged at her that she was not already lying beside them. It was only because of her recklessness that she wasn’t. Her friends told her it had saved her, but she didn't agree. Her place was beside her husband.
"Hey, Maggie, baby," she said, tears already pooling at the bottom of her eyes. "Mommy misses you so much. Do you remember the community center I told you about? Well, I hired the company that’ll build it today. Well, actually, it’ll be tonight when they sign the contracts, but we’re closer. Mr. Wellington is really excited. He says they are used to building fun things for children, like four-story slides right inside the building. You’re going to be so proud of it.” Jacqui swiped at a tear that snailed down her cheek, forgetting she had the handkerchief. “I know you’ll be watching over it.”
She glanced over at the grave marker at the head of Marc’s plot. Loving Husband, Father & Friend. A Helping Hand in His Community. Her throat tightened, and she had to force herself to swallow to open it back up. Marc’s funeral service had been overflowing with the people he touched. He made it his mission to see Biloxi returned to its glory after Katrina hit, and he believed that was accomplished by helping the everyday person rebuild. The Karston Foundation had been born out of that dream, and the Karston’s, along with Brent Wellington and Vince Andrews, Marc’s college buddy, made that dream a reality. Together, they assisted businesses in rebuilding, helped families get back on their feet, and aided local charities. Marc had even lured big businesses to relocate to Biloxi and created jobs with the deal that the money stayed in the area. She hadn’t made that deal with Rutherford, not entirely.
Leaning down, she ran her hands along the manicured blades of grass. “Well, honey, I’m sorry.” She paused a moment as her voice caught. Holding back the tears, she continued, her voice more subdued. “For the first time in ten years, we’re bringing a company in from out of state. Brent really believes Rutherford Construction can get us going in the right direction with the community center, and they promise to only hire local people. They’ve even promised to do it at cost just to be able to showcase their work. I know what our mission has always been, but Brent doesn’t think we can afford to build the center without their help.” She swiped at the tear that fell down her cheek, streaking her face, as feelings of betraying Marc’s dream overwhelmed her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
A cool breeze blew against her tear-stained cheeks, drying the salty water that streaked her makeup. It was like Marc brushed her tears away, reassuring her. She took a deep breath, bringing her tears to a halt. Glancing up into the noonday sky, the clouds overcasting the city, she swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. Two years and sometimes it still felt like yesterday. Her father wanted her to move on, telling her she was still young enough to start another family.
“I don’t have time for family, Dad,” she had told him. “I have a business to run and charities to oversee. This city still has a long way to go.”
“I didn’t realize you had been made mayor. Pardon me for thinking my daughter needed a life outside of the office.”
He dropped the conversation, but not the subject. It became a reoccurring theme over the past year as he tried to steer her toward relationships. However, the one time she gave in to her baser urges had been a disaster. It hadn't even been on purpose, just a moment of weakness and a craving to be held. She woke up sick to her stomach, feeling as if she betrayed Marc all over again. She never wanted to experience those emotions again.
She pushed herself off the ground, brushing pieces of grass from her slacks as she stood. What’s done is done, but she still felt guilty about it. She would just have to make sure she stayed on top of Mr. Brewer, making sure he followed through on his promises. He may not like her interference, but that was his problem. She didn't know him well enough to trust him, not that she trusted many. I’ll hire you, Mr. Brewer, but I’ll never leave you unattended.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“I really wish you were staying behind to sign those contracts,” Morgan said as he unloaded the trunk of Neal’s luggage. “Jacqui Karston likes you. She wants to deal with you. Not me.” Morgan didn’t mind doing the work, but he wasn’t overly fond of coddling the clients. When it came to employees, they either did the job or they were fired. You couldn’t fire the people you worked for, and Neal would kill him if he quit. It wasn’t that Morgan couldn’t schmooze with the best of them. It was just that he hated the hypocrisy of it all. Neal was much better at playing politics and smoothing the ruffled feathers of the people who hired Rutherford Construction. Morgan didn’t have the time or patience for the nonsense. If he was anything, he was honest about his motives. Kissing anyone’s ass was just never his style.
Neal lifted the lever of his luggage on wheels and slung the strap to his briefcase over his shoulder. “Who she wants and who she likes is beside the point. This is why I brought you out here. You’ve done these types of meetings before. Hell, you’re the whole reason we got the contract in the first place.” That was a fact Morgan was sure to regret. “Now, I’ll have Barbie call the local papers and put a call out for experienced people of all trades as well as some secretaries for you.” Barbie was Neal’s private assistant in the Jacksonville office, the main headquarters for Rutherford Construction, Incorporated. She did most of the real work if the truth were told. “I’m guessing you won’t need a big staff to begin with, but I’ll want you ready for new growth. I expect to gain more accounts. There’s quite a bit of room for new construction here.”
“No worries. Once we get some people on the payroll, we can get the office in shape and get started making you some more money.” Morgan closed the trunk as Neal handed him the keys to the rental car. “I’ll probably fly back home this weekend and then drive my truck back up with some of my stuff. I only brought enough clothes to last a week, and if I’m going to be homesteading here for the next three months, I’ll need more of my own things.”
Neal nodded. “Just remember what I said. I don't want your crotch to screw this up. Everything is to be aboveboard. I don’t need another incident like Brevard.”
“Biloxi’s a big city. I'm sure my fun can be had outside of the office.”
“Good,” Neal said as the two men shook hands.
“Tell Edwin I said hello.”
“Please.” Neal rolled his eyes. “I know damn well you’ll be on the phone with him the minute I walk through those doors, warning him I’m on my way. Just make sure he’s ready.”
Morgan laughed, shaking his head as he watched his boss pass through the open sliding doors. He should have known Neal would be one step ahead of him. As he turned and walked around the car to the driver’s door, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his contacts until he found Edwin’s name. Glancing back at the entrance doors, he laughed as he jerked the car door open, the phone ringing in his ear. “Edwin, my man, your world’s about to get dimmer.”
“Neal’s on his way, I take it.” Edwin Coldwell didn’t sound enthused. In fact, he sounded the complete opposite. “There goes the rest of my week.”
Morgan started the engine, flipped the Bluetooth on before dropping his phone into his lap and pulled out into airport traffic. “My gain is your loss,” he said with a chuckle. He felt bad for Edwin. The two of them were a lot alike. Both just looked for a good time, and most of the time, they didn’t care with who or even where. Usually, it didn’t matter. However, Edwin kicked the hornet’s nest back in Brevard, and Neal hauled him out of town in an attempt to quiet things down. Morgan wondered if it worked. “How are things in Savannah?”
“Cooler than they were back in Brevard and in more ways than one. Of course, with Neal on his way, I’m sure the heat’s about to be turned up.”
“You’ll weather it just fine. You might face Grumpy Neal for a little bit, but he still wants you around or he would have just canned your ass. Ride it out, take your spanking, and then make sure you pick your next office fling a little better.”
“I’ll have to hire new people for that. The men here are prettier than the girls. It’s deflating.”
Morgan chuckled as he pulled out of the airport and headed back to his temporary home. He had checked out of the casino hotel the same time Neal did. Morgan would still eat out of Styrofoam containers until he made it back to Orlando and packed some of his own possessions, but at least it would be quiet. “Have you heard anything from back home?”
“I’ve talked to Jed. They’re looking to hire someone to fill Nessa’s spot and moved her to Faith’s position. Then he told me he fired Grady...”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” Morgan said, cutting Edwin off before he could continue with the meaningless chatter.
He heard Edwin take a deep breath. “No, nothing. I’ve tried to call Faith, but she won’t take my calls. As for Cherish the... I don’t even want to go there.”
“I don’t blame you.” Morgan knew Edwin had just been a passing fling for Faith. She just looked to spice up her bedroom, not run away from it. Yet, Edwin allowed the office romance to slide off his desk and into his heart. He wound up as hurt as he had hurt Cherish. It was messy all the way around and, if he was honest, Morgan was glad he was away from it for a while. He had his own little tryst with Faith—enjoyed it quite immensely, as a matter of fact—but, like Faith, it was purely physical. Emotions were left out completely.
The two men talked a little longer, Morgan detecting the somber mood of his friend through the phone. After a bit, he wished Edwin good luck and ended the call. Edwin was only depressing him. In a way, they were in the same boat, only for different reasons. Edwin was being punished, moved to bring silence to a lawsuit, while Morgan’s move was seen as an opportunity, both for him and the company. However, with the way Jacqui seemed to be coming off, it looked like both men would be miserable for a while.
Morgan sighed. He really needed to find a way to calm Jacqui Karston down, or she would make his life miserable. They only had one lunch, but it was enough to let him know she was definitely ice to his fire. What had made her so cold, he didn’t know, but he needed to melt that frosty exterior. He just needed to figure out how.