behind his desk.
“They should really be the ones to talk to you about this, boss.”
Rolling his eyes, Eli grimaced at Desmond’s stance. This wasn’t going to be a conversation he’d enjoy.
“So is this it?” Eli waved the message slips and opted against forcing Desmond to share the reasons for his partner’s visit.
“Uh...” Desmond’s dreads hid his face when he bowed his head. He looked even less thrilled about sharing the next order of business and appeared as though he’d been delivered when a quick rap fell to the door before it was pushed open a tad wider.
Linus Brooks walked in with Santigo Rodriguez close behind. Elias observed his partners with a mix of curiosity and amusement. The three of them had been friends since before any of them knew how to put together a sentence. As an only child, Eli had considered them the brothers he’d never had.
Santigo Rodriguez wore a smile even when he was fit to be tied out of rage. The trait often proved to be rather disturbing, for one could never truly track Tigo’s moves. That aspect of the man’s personality proved quite handy though at the negotiating table.
Linus Brooks was almost Tigo’s exact opposite. Linus’s most distinguishing characteristic had to be his stinging, outspoken nature. The man wore his emotions and opinions on his sleeve, but always made a point of verbalizing them to ensure they were communicated.
The curiosity lurking in Eli’s bright gaze gradually gave way to more curiosity. That day may have been the first time in...ever that both men wore twin expressions...of unease.
“Two things,” Linus began once the door had closed behind Desmond’s hastily departing figure.
Eli rocked back in the gray leather and suede chair behind his beech wood desk and spread his hands urging his partner to continue.
Linus cleared his throat first, saying, “Cleveland Echols is putting his project on hold.”
The news nudged some of Eli’s curiosity out of the way to make room for confusion. “The framework and foundation have already been laid, right?” He watched his partners display solemn nods of confirmation. “Reason?” Eli spread his hands again.
“Said his investors pulled out.” Tigo went to sit on the edge of the desk and toyed with a baseball paperweight that lay there.
“All of ’em?” Elias asked, watching as his partner nodded again.
“Every last one,” Tigo added, stroking the light beard shadowing his face.
Eli rocked back in his chair again. “That’s crazy... There was all that support for it.”
Cleve Echols’s charitable endeavors in Philadelphia were well-known. It was the man’s more upscale endeavors that earned him a lucrative portfolio and respect in the business world. The financier owned and operated branches of banks throughout Pennsylvania and Delaware. There were even prominent locales in Atlanta, Chicago, Las Vegas, San Francisco and Miami. Echols’s plan to construct a new bank was a major bit of news. The latest establishment was to serve as the headquarters for the successful branches.
“So what does this mean for us?” Eli asked.
“Means we come out smellin’ good.” Linus’s wide mouth curved into a satisfied smile but he shrugged. “Not as good as we’d smell with a full project paid for, but our preliminary charge and phase one fees have already been settled so...”
Eli leaned close to his desk and propped his elbows along the edge. “We should keep our ears to the ground about this—see if we can pick up what may have motivated it.”
“We’re already on it,” Tigo said.
“So what’s the other thing?” Eli queried after silence dominated the office for several seconds. Amusement returned to his extraordinary stare as it shifted between Tigo and Linus. “Haven’t y’all already rehearsed how you’re gonna tell me?”
Santigo mussed the wavy crop of hair covering his head. “You won’t like it. No matter how we tell you.”
“You’d be a fool to put the kibosh on this, considering the Echols’s mess,” Linus blurted, staying true to his trademark outspoken persona.
“Then let’s hear it.” Eli smoothed the back of his hand across his goatee.
“We’ve been offered a remodeling expansion project. Given the scope of the thing...it’d draw on our offices across the country.”
Santigo nodded in agreement with Linus’s explanation. “It’s huge, El. Way bigger than the Echols deal and with the potential to keep us in the black for years.”
“More in the black than we already are,” Linus included, reading the look on Eli’s face.
“Sounds like an offer we shouldn’t refuse.” Elias reared back in his chair again. “So why don’t you think I’ll like it?”
“It’s not the offer we expect you to dislike, but who it comes from,” Tigo said, then cringed.
Linus stepped over to drop a folder on the desk. Elias leaned closer and brushed his fingers across the label marked with the name Jazzy B’s.
* * *
Clarissa David stared across the den at the decorative facial tissue dispenser but she didn’t trust herself to make the short trip to retrieve one. Instead, she used the backs of her hands to smear away the water that pooled in her large eyes and made a continuous stream down her cheeks.
She’d been sitting immobile for the last ten or twelve minutes. Intermittently, she’d been plagued by bouts of shaking her head in confusion as if some remark had just been made which prompted her disagreement.
No words had been spoken. Clarissa was alone in the room, dazed and in disbelief. Confusion was but one of the emotions filtering her mind at that point. She’d arrived in Media, Pennsylvania, two miles west of downtown Philadelphia in time to have her final conversation with her aunt Jazmina Beaumont. It was hardly a conversation. Clarissa twisted her mouth into what could have been a grimace. The purpose of the gesture, however, was to hold down the sobs crowding her throat. She’d gotten to her aunt’s bedside in time for the woman to tell Clarissa only a few things at best. While they were lovely and inspiring, they had barely grazed the surface of all the questions skipping around inside Clarissa’s head. Not to mention everything Clarissa herself had wanted to say to the woman who had helped raise her.
Clarissa sat perched on the very edge of an armchair cushion. She resembled a frightened animal ready to take to flight. She was clenching her hands so tightly that they had an ashen appearance. Frustrated by the sight of them, Clarissa hid her almond-brown face in her palms and shuddered.
Soft rubs to her shoulders caused her to jerk upright a few moments later. Clarissa tried and failed to produce a smile for her aunt’s oldest friend and business manager, Waymon Cole. Desperately, she reached up to tug on Waymon’s hand until he was seated on the arm of her chair.
Clarissa rested her head on the man’s thigh as she cried.
“It’ll be all right, sugar.” Waymon’s calm, easy tone was almost
