Sienna dug into the pitch-black earth with the shovel, working around in a circle until she was able to lift the shrub out of the ground. She picked it up at the base and placed the roots in the soil she’d prepared in a huge terra cotta pot. Packing the dirt over the tiny roots, Sienna closed her eyes and relished the sensation of the cool earth sliding between her fingers.
It had been a hellish week. Hellish, but exciting. The pressure of having her own account had kept her awake at night, devising innovative strategies to make Aria Jordan a household name. She had come up with a couple of ideas that she hoped would broaden Aria’s appeal to a wider audience, but she still had not found that one thing that would really make her shine.
Last night’s performance at the Hard Court had solidified the fact that the girl had the talent. Her spots at local clubs were a great way to grow a following, but they were working on an accelerated timetable. Sienna needed to find something that would catch the attention of more than just a few hundred people.
One thing. If only she could find that one thing.
Her job was one problem, but it wasn’t the only stress maker in her life. Seeing Aria and Toby together added its own dimension of distress. As much as Sienna hated the thought of the two of them together, she was offended by the way Toby treated Aria. As a manager and producer he was everything the girl could want, but as a boyfriend?
If being his girlfriend entailed Toby practically ignoring her and showing no type of affection whatsoever in public, Sienna was better off by herself.
Aria’s feelings could not be more obvious if she wore a T-shirt with I “heart” Toby across her chest, but Toby hardly ever returned the smiles she sent his way. Sienna hoped he paid her more attention in private. Then again, she didn’t want to think about the two of them in private.
Sienna packed the last bit of soil around the shrub’s base and turned to her rose bushes. She slid the pruning shears from the protective sleeve and knelt in the grass. Hers was one of the few front lawns in the Faurbourg Marigny. One of the neighborhood’s unique features was that most of the homes butted right up to the sidewalk.
A honking horn interrupted Sienna’s peace. Toby’s midnight blue Acura pulled up the short driveway next to her car.
“What are you doing out here?” he yelled from the open driver’s side window.
“Dyeing my hair,” Sienna sarcastically replied, shielding her eyes from the sun.
“I’ve been calling your cell phone all morning.”
She motioned toward the house. “It’s on the charger. The battery is going out, so I’m having to charge it up every day.”
“Buy a new battery. There are some parts of this city you do not want to be caught in without your cell phone.”
“I know. I’m going to trade the phone in when I get a chance. Now, what was so pressing that you had to drive half way across the city at,” she looked at her watch, “nine in the morning.”
“I had a revelation,” Toby answered as he strolled up to her.
“Care to elaborate?” Sienna asked. She rose, dusting dirt from her hands.
“How do you feel about attending the Greater New Foundation Full Gospel Baptist Church tomorrow? Damn, that’s a mouthful.”
Sienna slapped him on the arm. “You do not say church and damn in the same breath.”
“You just did.”
Sienna made a get on with it gesture with her hand. “What about the church?”
“Their eleven o’clock service is televised throughout the entire Gulf South. As far as Pensacola.”
Sienna knew where this was headed. And she was so there.
“Please tell me Aria grew up singing gospel?”
“Since she was six years old.”
Yes. This was a market they had not even considered.
“How do we get her on program?”
“The great Margo Holmes to the rescue.” Toby’s face lit up with a smile. “One of the ladies in some pottery class Mama just started attends the church. She was bragging about Aria and the show—”
“Of course,” Sienna interjected.
“Of course,” Toby agreed. “And the woman suggested Aria sing at their eleven o’clock service.”
“Where’s the church?”
“Out in Slidell. Can you make it?”
Sienna nodded. She was astounded that she had not thought about the gospel arena, as popular as the music was these days. She could only imagine Aria Jordan’s soulful voice belting out a gospel spiritual. After her performance last night, Sienna had to give the girl her due. She was better than half the singers out there today.
And, since he was the one who had discovered her, it was only fair to give Toby his due, also.
“She really is amazing, Toby.”
“I know. Mama comes through for me even when I’m not expecting her to.”
“No, I mean Aria. This is going to work out for you. Even if it’s not with this show.”
His smiled broadened. “So, you enjoyed the performance last night, huh?”
“Of course. The entire club was in an uproar. She’s going to be a big draw for Jonathan.”
Toby nodded. “He made me guarantee her performances over the next few weeks.”
“That’s excellent. It’s the best way to establish a following—one that’s outside of the teenage demographic. I think we’ve got a pretty good handle on that age group.”
“And this church thing is going to tap into another segment of the population.”
“One we never even contemplated,” Sienna agreed, unable to contain a matching smile.
“Yeah, I may have to buy Mama a new Sunday hat for coming up with this idea.”
“You know, it might not be a bad idea if we could get her in on a brainstorming session. I’ll bet if we get your Mom and brothers and maybe even Jonathan together, we can think of a bunch of untapped audiences. We’ve got to think outside the box with this, Toby. We don’t have time to sit around and wait for inspiration to strike.”
“Good thinking.”
“Naturally,” Sienna teased. “You’re paying good money for me to come up with these brilliant ideas.”
“I was thinking about that. Since you’re the one handling Aria’s account, maybe I could fire MDF, Inc. and you can just continue on as a friend.” Toby winked.
“Not on your life.” Sienna laughed. “C’mon, help me with this wheelbarrow.”
Carrying the shovel, she led him around the side of the house where she had filled half the bed of her grandmother’s rusty wheelbarrow with a coffee ground and table scrap compost.
“Since when do you do yard work?” Toby asked. He went around and gripped the handles of the wheelbarrow.
“Since I got a yard of my own,” Sienna quipped. “Bring it around the front for me. I need to get some fertilizer from the shed.”
Heading to the back of her property, Sienna went to the small aluminum building she’d purchased at Home Depot to replace the wooden shed that had been blown to pieces by Hurricane Katrina. She retrieved the bag of fertilizer and a trowel from the wall-mounted tool shelf.
When Sienna returned to the front of the house, she found Toby already scooping the compost mixture and situating it around the edge of the flowerbed.
“Since when do you do yard work?” she asked.
“Since five minutes ago,” he answered. He looked around at her composition of shrubs and perennials. “This is really nice, Cee Cee. Granny Elise would be happy with what you’ve done.”
She let her eyes roam over the landscaping she’d put so much time and energy into making her own. “I think so, too. Granny always wanted a rose garden, but she never got around to it. This is sort of like a tribute. Makes me feel closer to her, you know.”
Toby nodded and they both stared at each other. Silence stretched between them like a long winding road. Sienna’s level of discomfort grew with each millisecond of excruciating quiet.
Finally, Toby broke the connection. Rising from where he knelt in the dirt, he dusted his hands off and planted them on his hips. “Sienna, when did this happen?”
“What?” But she knew what. It was painfully obvious.
“I never imagined a time in my life when I would feel awkward around you. I’ve been trying to pretend everything is okay, but it’s not.”
“I know.” She shrugged. “But what can we do about it? Friendships grow apart all the time.”
“I know that, but us?”
Another shrug. “I guess if you don’t work at it, even the closest relationships are going to fade. I admit I never thought it could happen to us, either. I was closer to you than I was to my own sisters. But…” Sienna added water to the soil. She mixed in a handful of fertilizer and tamped it down around the base of the flowers.
“At least you’re home,” she said after several somber moments. And for the first time since his return, Sienna made certain the depth of her feelings were evident in her eyes, if only he was willing to see them.
“I’ve missed you, Toby,” she said, nearly aching with the breadth of emotions rioting through her. Would he finally understand just what it is she felt for him?
“I missed you, too,” Toby answered. “I haven’t had anyone to give me a hard time for no reason at all. You’re the only friend who can do that.” His playful punch on the arm was like a fist to the gut.
Sienna pasted on a smile. It took effort to keep her disappointment hidden. “That’s my specialty, right?”
“Maybe we can work on being the friends we used to be, huh?”
“I’d love that more than anything,” Sienna answered.
At least she knew she could lie with a straight face.
***
Sienna jumped as her cellular phone rang. Waving at Candi as the assistant drove out of MDF’s employee parking garage, Sienna pulled the phone out of her purse and checked the tiny screen. It was a number she didn’t recognize.
“This is Sienna,” she answered.
“Hey, I’m glad I caught you.”
“Toby? Where are you calling from?”
“Jonathan’s club. Look, can you stop at Mama’s tonight? I’ve been making some phone calls and scored two more spots for Aria for this week. I’ve got a couple of ideas that I want to run by you before I send anything out to the radio stations.”
“Can’t we handle this over the phone? I’m supposed to have dinner with Ivana in an hour.”
“You’re the one who suggested just this morning that we brainstorm outside of the office. Bring your sister over, too. Mama won’t mind. She’s making dinner for Jonathan. You know how Mama is when it comes to food. There’ll be enough to feed the entire neighborhood.”
She certainly could use some of Margo Holmes’s cooking. It would be a hundred times better than anything she ordered in a restaurant. And it was free.
“Okay, I’ll be there. But I’m warning you, Toby, I don’t want you pushing Jonathan and I together as soon as I get to the house, alright?”
“Maybe you should take your own advice.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sienna asked.
“Nothing,” Toby answered.
She knew she had not imagined the sharpness in his voice, but decided not to inquire further. “Is seven-thirty okay? I need to drop by Ivana’s and pick her up.”
“Cool. See you in a little while.”
Sienna finally made it to her car. Locking her purse in the trunk—sans the cellular phone she kept in her hand—she got in and took off for Ivana’s, hoping her sister still remembered their dinner date. It was a crapshoot where Ivana was concerned. Her older sister had no problem blowing her off if there was some worthy cause that needed her help.
Sienna didn’t mind. It was what made Ivana special. Her sister would give her last dime, the food from her mouth, and the clothes on her back—all at the same time—if it meant someone less fortunate would not have to suffer. That’s why Sienna took it personally when people called her sister a witchdoctor or a wacko, or any of the other horrible names that were used to describe Ivana. Some even by their own mother.
Sienna’s hands tightened involuntarily on the steering wheel.
She pulled up to the shotgun house in the Treme neighborhood that Ivana shared with her best friend from college, Lelo, who was out front watering one of the huge ferns on the porch.
“Hey, girl,” Lelo called.
“Hi there. Is my sister home, or did she ditch me?” Sienna answered, making her way up the concrete walkway.
“She’s here,” Lelo said. “So, how is the job, Miss Big Time Marketing Executive?”
“It’s pretty good. I was just given my very own account.”
“Congratulations, sweetie,” Lelo said, sitting the plastic watering can on the porch ledge and enveloping Sienna in a hug. “You’re going to own that company sooner than you know.”
“I like the way you think.” Sienna laughed.
“You made it,” Ivana called from inside the house. Even with the meshed screened door partially obscuring her view, Sienna could still make out the wild colors her sister wore. Ivana had her own style, and she was not ashamed to show it no matter what others thought about her.
“Give me a minute,” Ivana said. “I need to get something from my room.”
Sienna opened the screened door and entered the house. The strong scent of patchouli smacked her in the face. Ivana and Lelo were best friends, but their individual tastes clashed unmercifully, creating a house with some of the most mismatched décor Sienna had ever seen.
Ivana’s penchant for bold colors and patterns rioted against Lelo’s frilly lace and soft pastels. At first sight, it was hard for the brain to comprehend just what was so off about it. If she stayed for very long, she developed a headache.
Sienna walked to the back of the house toward Ivana’s room. She found her sister at the mirror, looping a strand of faux pearls over her head. She wore her gorgeous mass of hair in its natural and most beautiful state tonight, free flowing over her shoulders and down her back. They both had a tall, slim build, but Sienna had always envied her sister’s elegance. While she’d always considered herself tall and lanky, Ivana was willowy and graceful.
“You look awesome,” Sienna told her. “Although, it’s a bit much for a drive-thru window.” She laughed when Ivana’s middle finger shot up, flipping her off. “I can’t believe you did that.”
“That’s what you get for thinking of taking me to a drive-thru for dinner,” Ivana answered.
“Doesn’t matter. There’s been a change of plans.” Sienna walked over to the bed and fell face down into the soft, well-worn comforter. She kicked one shoe off and left the other dangling from her big toe. She turned her head to Ivana. “We’ve been invited to dinner at Margo Holmes’s house.”
“Really?” Ivana gave her a raised eyebrow stare through the mirror. “What did little Jasmine do, lose a tooth?”
Sienna grinned. “No. It’s a long story, but to give you the short version, I’m heading an account for this singer Toby discovered. There are some things we need to go over that couldn’t wait until Monday.”
“You’re dumping me on our traditional dinner night for business?”
“Call it payback for all the times you’ve bailed on me.”
Ivana nodded. “I deserve it. And if your payback involves Margo’s cooking, you can pay me back any time.”
Sienna picked up the catalog she’d spotted on the nightstand. Thumbing through the pages and grimacing at the clothing that was too outdated for a woman Ivana’s age, she asked, “What’s happening with that house in the Quarter you’re trying to save?”
“Don’t ask.”
“What happened?” Sienna tossed the catalog back on the nightstand. “The last time I talked to you, you said the contractor was ready to give in.”
“The contractor was at his breaking point, but the new owner will not be so easy to manipulate.”
“You met him?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Just keep at it,” Sienna encouraged. “I have total faith in the tenacity of Ivana “The Pit bull” Culpepper.”
Ivana laughed. “I don’t think I’ve earned the nickname “Pit bull” yet.”
“Oh, yeah? I’ll bet that contractor would beg to differ.”
Ivana smiled at her through the mirror. She picked up an old-fashioned perfume diffuser and misted herself.
“I’m ready,” Ivana announced. She turned, and sashayed back and forth, her long turquoise skirt bellowing, while the oversized sleeves of her gauzy white blouse mimicked a downed fighter signaling surrender.
Sienna speared her with a curious glance. “Are you trying to land a man?”
Ivana’s hazel-colored eyes shot daggers. “Shut up.”
Sienna burst out laughing. “Come on. One of Toby’s college friends is in town. Hopefully, Margo made some gumbo to welcome him to the city.”
“If only we could be so lucky.”
***
Ivana groaned as the hem of her skirt caught in the car door. That’s why she didn’t own a car; they clashed with her usual attire. She’d ruined many a skirt by getting it caught in a car door. She’d even lost one that way. That had been embarrassing.
The rich aroma of home cooking filtered out of Margo Holmes’s open kitchen window, greeting them in the front yard.
“Girl, come on,” Sienna said. “I smell jambalaya.”
Ivana followed her along the graveled walkway toward the back door, but even the delicious smelling food was not enough enticement to put an extra pep in her step. She loved the Holmeses as if they were her own family, but just like her own family, they thought she was weird. Of course, Margo had never said anything to her face, but Ivana knew better than to think she didn’t get whispered about when she left a room.
She was the fruitcake. Sylvia Culpepper’s lost cause.
If it were not for Sienna and her unwavering support, Ivana would have probably cut off all ties to her family long ago. They just didn’t understand her. Nobody understood her, except for her sisters in the struggle to save New Orleans’ misguided souls.
She was a Voodoo priestess, and proud of it. She fought for what she believed in, and did everything within her power to preserve the increasingly dissipating history of the real Voodoo of this city.
But it still hurt when people misjudged her.
Ivana followed Sienna through the screened door and pass the dozens of plants overtaking the back porch. A beautiful sign with Margo’s Jungle hand-carved into the wood hung over the door that led to the kitchen.
“Come on in.” She heard Margo say from within the house. Closing the door behind her, Ivana took a deep breath and put on her confident, talk-about-me-all-you-want-I’m-still-my-own-woman face. As much as their cautious looks and whispered comments hurt, she refused to hide her true self.
“Ivana, honey. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.” Margo was alone in the kitchen, but male voices could be heard coming from one of the front rooms of the house. “You look wonderful. I love that color on you,” Margo said, holding out Ivana’s long skirt.
“Thank you,” Ivana said, bending down to give the extremely petite woman a hug. “It’s great to see you. Thanks for inviting us.”
“You know my kitchen is always opened,” Margo said with a nonchalant wave. “The two of you arrived just in time. Tobias and Jonathan have been waiting in the living room like a couple of starving dogs. If you all could help me bring this to the dining table,” She handed a bowl of steaming, aromatic jambalaya to Sienna and gestured with her head for Ivana to grab the large bowl of green salad. “We can start dinner.”
The dining table was set with mismatched plates, silverware and plastic go-cups like the ones thrown from the parade floats at Mardi Gras.
“I apologize for the place settings. Jasmine was here with Alex earlier and she begged to set the table. And you know I was not letting that little girl touch my good dishes.”
“At least she wants to helps,” Sienna said.
“Help, my foot. Miss Thang had the nerve to demand five dollars after she was done.”
Ivana laughed, but inside, she could not control the small prick of pain that pierced her chest at the thought of Margo’s beautiful granddaughter. She longed for a child of her own.
“Tobias? Jonathan?” Margo called from the door of the dining room. “Dinner is ready.” She came back to the table. “Take a seat, girls. They should be out in just a minute.”
Before Ivana had a chance to sit, Toby Holmes came through the door that led to the living room.
“Hey there, Mrs. Trump,” Toby said, greeting her as he had since Donald Trump had married his ex-wife, Ivana.
She had forgotten how tall he was. Ivana told him so as they embraced. “Somebody should have told you to stop growing, Toby.”
“I’m the same size I was the last time you saw me.”
“I don’t think so. Any man who dwarfs me is too tall for his own good.”
“Where’s Jonathan?” Margo asked.
“Washing up. He should be out in a minute.”
“What about Aria?” Sienna asked from the seat she’d taken at the table. Ivana rounded the table and sat beside her.
“Aria’s not coming, is she, Mama?” Toby sent raised eyebrows Margo’s way, who shrugged and said, “Not if you didn’t invite her.”
“I didn’t think Aria needed to be here for this discussion. She’s still trying to recover from her performance at The Hard Court.”
“But she did so well,” Sienna said. “I couldn’t tell she was nervous.”
“She gets like that sometimes, but once she’s on stage, she’s good to go.”
“She was definitely impressive,” Sienna admitted.
“How did the club turn out? Did Indina do a good job,” Margo asked.
“It’s first class all the way. But that’s to be expected with Jonathan. He never does anything half-ass. Sorry, Mama,” Toby said.
Ivana smiled at Toby’s apology. The Holmes boys did not use questionable language in front of their mother. It was refreshing to see that type of respect still in place.
Toby shook his head. “After last night’s success, I don’t know how I’m going to handle that boy. His head is big enough as it is.”
Ivana discreetly rubbed the side of her own head. It was still throbbing as a result of the confrontation from a few days ago with a bigheaded attorney who was destroying one of the first homes that was ever used as a haven for the city’s sick.
She needed to devise another tactic. She’d beaten the contractor nearly to his breaking point. He’d been ready to crack; she knew it. But Ivana’s instincts told her the building’s new lessee would not be as easy to intimidate.
Her blood boiled just at the thought of his superciliousness.
She dropped her napkin on the floor and blamed him for that too. Her nerves had been on edge ever since she’d left his office. Ivana bent to retrieve the napkin, silently cursing her new foe.
Arrogant, overconfident…
“Here he comes,” she heard Toby say, “Ivana, I want you to meet my buddy and teammate from St. John’s—
Bigheaded, egotistical…
“Jonathan Campbell.”
Ivana raised her head and her heart stopped.
Lord, Almighty, there he was. Her foe. Her arrogant, overconfident, bigheaded, egotistical foe. Her handsome-as-all-get-out foe.
Ivana could tell he recognized her instantly. The corner of his mouth lifted in a grin that sent a shot of something tingly straight to the pit of her stomach. He came around the table and captured Sienna’s hand, placing a perfect kiss upon the back of it, all the while still staring at her with those keen brown eyes.
“How are you doing, Sienna?” he asked.
“Wonderful,” Sienna answered. “Congratulations on last night.”
“Thank you,” he answered, then he turned to Ivana, and the grin escalated to a full wattage smile. The rush of nervous energy she’d experienced when she first met him came over Ivana once again.
“And here is the second of the infamous Culpepper girls, Ivana Coleman,” Toby introduced.
She inwardly cringed at hearing her married name. “I went back to Culpepper,” Ivana corrected him.
Jonathan walked around the back of her chair and Ivana’s heart rate multiplied. She needed a sip of water, but feared her hands would shake the liquid right out of the cup. Instead, Ivana put her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her folded hands, thwarting any plans he may have had of repeating the greeting he used on Sienna. She did not want this man’s lips anywhere on her. Really, she didn’t, Ivana told herself.
“Hello, Ivana.”
Electric sparks raced down her back at the sound of his deep voice softly calling her name. He held out an extremely large palm the color of a rich caramel latte.
Ivana tipped her head to the side but kept her hands planted firmly under her chin. “Welcome to New Orleans,” she said. She refused to lie and say she was happy to meet him because she most certainly was not.
His eyes sparkled with knowing amusement and she was sorry she even deigned to look at him at all.
“Thank you,” he answered and walked around to the seat next to Toby. He didn’t sit directly across from her, but with the small size of the Holmeses’ table, he very well could have been in her lap for all the distance between them. Margo’s cooking didn’t seem all that appetizing anymore. Ivana would have given just about anything to leave.
“We didn’t get a chance to talk much last night,” Sienna said, placing her napkin in her lap and reaching for the spicy smelling dish. “How are you enjoying the city so far?”
“It’s getting more and more interesting everyday,” Jonathan answered, still looking at Ivana. She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.
“This isn’t your first time here, is it?”
He finally turned his attention fully to Sienna. “I’ve been down a couple of times before, but not since Toby and I were in school.”
“I was in Atlanta at the time,” Sienna said.
He nodded, taking a sip from his plastic cup filled to the brim with iced tea. “Spelman. I remember Toby talking about how you passed on all those athletic scholarships and picked the academic one instead.”
As they feasted on jambalaya, the conversation turned to both of Jonathan Campbell’s new endeavors. Ivana’s estimation of him dwindled with each syllable spoken. The man encompassed everything she loathed. Not only was he the attorney who was single-handedly ruining that beautiful house in the Quarter, he was also the proprietor of the monstrosity of a nightclub recently constructed on Esplanade Avenue. As if this city needed another place to provide liquor and loud music.
“So, what do you do, Ivana?”
Ivana jerked her head up, looking around the suddenly eerily quiet table. The question had come from Jonathan, who sat with that slip of a smile edging up the corner of his mouth.
“Ivana is a…umm…priestess,” Toby provided.
“A priestess?”
“I’m a Voodoo Priestess,” she clarified, raising her chin so high in the air she nearly caught a nosebleed. She would not let this slick-skinned lawyer make her feel ashamed of what she was. She’d faced enough ridicule from her ex-husband, Michael, and her own mother. She certainly would not flinch under the censure of this man whom she barely knew.
But there was no censure in his surprised gaze. His right brow quirked, he simply nodded. “Extremely interesting. I guess I should steer clear from you then. I wouldn’t want you to put a hex on me.”
Ignorant fool. If she could cast hexes, she’d turn him into the jackass he was, complete with floppy ears and gigantic teeth.
Ivana settled for sending him a stare that said quite clearly “don’t mess with me.” She would leave him to his ill informed ideas. He would have no interest in learning what the real Voodoo of New Orleans stood for anyway. And it wasn’t as if she had never heard remarks such as his before. Ivana had dealt with them from the moment she join the Cause. If she took the time out to actually explain the culture to everyone she met, she’d never get any work done.
The original Voodoo did not operate the way history tended to portray: calling on evil spirits to wreak havoc on society. The real Voodoo was a benevolent society that took care of the sick by utilizing the power of spirituality that was found inside all human beings. She and her sister priestesses simply had a better way of harnessing that power.
Unfortunately, people chose to believe lies and half-truths when it came to understanding her kind, and Ivana no longer had the energy to change their minds. She surely was not going to waste her breath on people like Jonathan Campbell, who obviously had no desire to resuscitate the city’s less fortunate. Instead, he was more interested in destroying history for personal gain.
Ivana glanced at the old, but delicately cared for, grandfather clock in the corner. They hadn’t been here a half-hour. Toby and Sienna still had to talk business.
It was going to be a very long night.
***
Jonathan leaned back in the chair and mulled over the possible reasons behind his uncharacteristic reaction to the woman sitting across the table.
What was it about her that fascinated him so? Maybe it’s because she was so unlike any of the women he usually pursued. A challenge.
He never had to put forth much effort when it came the fairer sex. As soon as most women discovered he was both single and a lawyer, they kicked their game into full gear. Neither his career nor his marital status seemed to matter to Ivana, and that intrigued the heck out of him.
Hell, maybe she had cast some sort of spell on him. Probably happened back at his office. That’s why he couldn’t think of anything but her.
Her scent had lingered in the lobby long after she had left on Thursday. After a while, Jonathan had grabbed his notes and legal tablet and set up shop at the parlor’s coffee table. He’d wanted to enjoy her essence for as long as possible.
And now she sat less than three feet away, with nothing but a pine table and a pecan pie separating them. That and the chip the size of Gibraltar she held on her shoulder. Jonathan had watched her throughout the night. He couldn’t help it. It was as if she held magnets in those astute brown eyes.
She had conversed with Margo while Toby and Sienna brought him in on the discussion of various alternatives to help promote Aria. But Jonathan found it hard to concentrate on much of anything, save for the woman sitting across the table.
She had tried not to look at him. In fact, she looked everywhere else—her food, Toby, the ceiling. But when her eyes happened to wander back his way, there was no mistaking her disgust.
Disgust was the one thing he did not want to elicit in this woman. And not because he was afraid she would fashion a little doll after him and prick it with needles. If Jonathan had his way, he would give Ivana Culpepper something much more exciting to do with her time than calling on spirits and trying to stop people from renovating old buildings.
Margo rose from the table. “Sorry to leave, but I promised Etta Louis I would help put together care packages the church is sending for the troops in the Middle East. I’ll be right across the street,” she said.
“Wait, Mama.” Toby pushed his chair back. “I’ll walk you over there.”
Margo’s hands flew to her hips. “Tobias Anthony Holmes, I am a grown woman. I am capable of crossing the street by myself, thank you very much.”
“Do you all need any help putting together the care packages?” Ivana asked.
Jonathan could not contain his smile as Ivana latched onto an excuse to get out of dodge. She had looked on the verge of bolting all evening. He’d guessed the only reason she remained is because she’d come over with Sienna.
“No thanks, honey,” Margo answered. “The deaconess board is going to be there. But I can use help with the dishes,” Margo said, looking pointedly at Toby.
Toby put his hands up. “Sienna and I have to work.”
“I’ll do the dishes,” Ivana offered. “It’ll give me something to do while I wait for Sienna.”
Jonathan had to stop himself from rolling up his sleeves at the table. He had never been more excited about busting suds.
“Thanks for dinner,” Sienna called out to Margo.
“As I said earlier, my kitchen is always opened to you girls. I’ll leave a container of jambalaya for your mother.”
“I’ll make sure she gets it,” Sienna said.
The table’s four remaining occupants rose and started clearing the dishes.
“I’ve got that,” Ivana said, reaching across the table for Toby’s plate. “You two need to finish your work.”
So they could leave as soon as possible, Jonathan could practically hear her say. She wanted out of here.
She was not getting off that easy.
But before he could even turn toward the kitchen, Toby said, “J., why don’t you join us? You can help brainstorm.”
Jonathan stifled the curse he nearly let loose. He didn’t want to brainstorm. He didn’t want to do anything that did not involve a certain woman who claimed to be into Voodoo.
But he didn’t want to broadcast his intentions just yet. At least not to anyone other than Ivana. So instead of saying hell no, which is what he was thinking, Jonathan said, “Sure.”
They went into the living room. Toby and Sienna sat on the long sofa, while he took a seat in the lounge chair that sat at a right angle, but as soon as his butt hit the chair, Jonathan was ready to get up again. He wanted to be in that kitchen. His mind was focused solely on getting Ivana alone.
After a full five minutes of not comprehending a single thing that had been discussed, Jonathan lied, saying he had an important call to make, and hopped out of the chair as if it were on fire. He passed through the dining room and stopped in the kitchen doorway. Leaning his shoulder against the doorframe, he studied her. She was beautiful. Long, flowing hair, creamy, caramel-colored skin, and a slim, statuesque body that inspired all sorts of illicit thoughts.
“So, are you going to pretend you don’t know who I am?”
Her hands stilled. Her back became as rigid as a surfboard. Jonathan contemplated all the things he could do to the smooth column of her neck.
“I don’t know you,” Ivana finally said. She dunked another dish in the water and continued scrubbing.
“You can’t make me believe you don’t remember me.”
“Spending five minutes in the presence of someone does not constitute knowing them. I did not consider you an actual person the other day.” She turned slightly and looked at him over her slim shoulder. “Just a heartless monster with poor decorating taste.”
Jonathan flattened his palm against his chest as if covering a knife wound. He pushed away from the door jamb and walked over to the double sink, grabbing a dishtowel hanging from the oven’s chrome handle on the way. He helped himself to a bowl and began wiping away the excess moisture.
“I’ve got this taken care of,” she said.
“I want to help,” Jonathan replied.
She turned her attention back to the sink full of sudsy water. She had left the silver bracelet on her left wrist. The overhead light radiated sparks on it every time her hands came out of the water. After a few minutes of a surprisingly comfortable silence, Jonathan realized they could go on like this for the rest of the night. But that’s not what he wanted. Jonathan was determined to learn more about her.
She fascinated him.
Jonathan watched as she opened the bottom cabinet and retrieved a small plastic container. She transferred the leftover rice and put the empty rice pot in the sink. Apparently, she wasn’t in a talkative mood.
He reached for a spoon and gently caressed it with the towel, biding his time.
Wait. Forget that!
Time was a precious commodity that was likely running out. Toby and Sienna could not have much more that could be handled over a coffee table discussion. And Jonathan knew as soon as they were finished, Ivana would demand she and Sienna leave.
If he was going to start up a conversation with her, he’d have to do it now. “So, are you really a Voodoo priestess?”
“Yes,” she answered. Her eyes remained focused on something outside the window over the sink.
“How did that come about?” Whether Ivana knew it or not, this wasn’t just small talk on his part. He really was interested. He knew very little about the occult, other than what came out of Hollywood. Actually, the thought of all that stuff scared the hell out of him, but if the typical Voodoo Queen was like Ivana Culpepper, Jonathan was willing to grow a little backbone where this creepy stuff was concerned.
Ivana ignored his question. For as much lip as she had given him back at his office, she surely was quiet tonight.
“How long have you been practicing Voodoo?” he tried. At least he geared their one-way conversation toward her interests. Wasn’t the biggest complaint of most women that men only talked about themselves? What more did she want?
Probably for him to walk in front of a bus.
Too bad. His grandmamma taught him long ago to look both ways before crossing the street.
He tried again. “Was this your childhood dream, or did you just happen upon it?” Okay. He’ll admit that was a stupid one, but he was running out of questions. But—look at that—it got her attention.
Ivana finally turned to him. “You don’t take hints well, do you?”
Jonathan smiled. “Not really.”
“Try.”
“Are you still upset about what happened back at my office?”
“What is your problem? Didn’t you hear what they said in there?” She pointed to the dining room. “I’m a Voodoo priestess. I rip the heads off chickens with my teeth and crush glass with my bare hands.” Sarcasm oozed out of her mouth. Her eyes teemed with it.
“And what is that supposed to mean to me?” Jonathan asked.
“It means you should be running out of the house, trying to get as far away from me as you can,” she answered. The sarcasm in her eyes had been replaced by something else. Was that sadness? Whatever it was, he didn’t like it. He much preferred the fire he’d seen in her eyes just a minute ago.
Jonathan reached into the water and grasped one of her hands. He slowly pulled it out and ran his fingers along the slick, warm flesh. The slight wrinkles from being immersed in water could not detract from the smoothness of her skin.
“You must be really good at that glass crushing thing.” He turned her hand over and studied her palm, tracing his thumb over it. “I can’t find a single sign of damage.”
She looked up from where he held her hand, and damn if those big brown eyes didn’t snatch the breath right from his lungs. Her eyes widened. Her lips parted. The air around them crackled and sizzled.
“Ivana, are you just about done?”
Jonathan’s eyelids slid shut at Sienna’s interruption. Ivana jerked her hand away.
“I’m done,” she called, wiping her hands on a dishtowel.
“You sure you don’t need me to write the directions to my apartment?” Toby was asking Sienna as they walked into the kitchen.
“I’ve lived here my entire life.” She laughed. “I think I can find my way around Carrolton.”
“Okay. Let me just fix a plate to go and I’ll meet you there. All I have to do is print Aria’s schedule off of my hard drive,” Toby said.
Sienna walked over to Jonathan and held out her hand. “Good luck with the law practice’s grand opening. Hopefully, I won’t have to see you in that capacity.”
“I doubt you can steer clear of me. I practice contract law, remember. I’m sure our paths will cross.”
“Well, I’ll just make sure you’re on my side.”
“For now, why don’t you make plans to be back at the club this Tuesday. I’m going to try establishing a Ladies Night.”
Still holding her hand, Jonathan bent over and placed a friendly peck on Sienna’s cheek. He turned to Ivana, but the look she gave him said very clearly he had best keep his hands and lips to himself.
Not for long, the voice in his head sang.
“Will I see you on Tuesday, Ivana?”
“I do not patronize establishments such as yours,” she answered.
The silence that followed her coldly delivered edict was suffocating as everyone stood in the kitchen staring uncomfortably at one another. With that one statement she had undeniably made her feelings known. Jonathan picked up the gauntlet like a fierce warrior. If that is how she wanted to play this, so be it.
A wide grin spread across his face.
Let the games begin.