Chapter 6

Eileen's new secretary causes her to rethink the way her business is run....

    Kicks went flying; legs sliced through the air. He anticipated each of my movements and dodged every attempt. Finally, I landed a hit against his chest, and he stumbled backward a little, but came back with a roundhouse that knocked me to the ground.
    Once on the mat, I took a second to catch my breath. He towered above me. "Nice try. You're getting better."
    "Sure," I muttered.
    "You are."
    He offered me his hand, but I slapped it away and got up on my own. "Tell me that the day you're lying on the mat," I retorted. "Damn you, aren't you s'posed to be a dancer?"
    Astaire did not smile at that. "You women really know how to destroy a compliment, don't you?"
    "You've been teaching me self- defense for a year."
    He reached up and brushed his hair out of his face. "You expect to be able to outmaneuver a black belt after a year?"
    "Of course. I'm after instant gratification."
    "Apparently."
    "Maybe I'll develop a special self- defense ability."
    "Maybe."
    By then, we were walking toward the lockers. "You're mocking me, aren't you?"
    "Never."
    I hit him lightly. He pretended to poke out my eyes.
    "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to hit a girl?" I joked.
    "Not that I recall."
    "You could at least go easy on me."
    "Tell that to the next guy that steals your purse."
    "I will, right before I blast him into orbit."
    Astaire gave me a funny look as he punched the elevator's Up button. "Except that you should be hiding your extra abilities."
    "Thanks for the reminder," I said.
    The elevator came. Astaire asked, "Where are you headed?"
    "Home, to take a shower," I replied. "Lobby, please."
    The doors closed, and the elevator began its journey from the basement of the Brotherhood building to the first floor.
    "It's raining," Astaire said, his grey eyes temporarily blank.
    "My umbrella's in my car."
    He spread his hands to about the length of a golf- size umbrella, palms up, and an umbrella grew into existence.
    I put on a goofy smile. "That's my good wittle pwecog- slash- flight- slash- power negation- slash- mowecular manipulator."
    A grin flashed across his face. "Just throw me a treat, why don'tcha."
    "Will you take a rain check on that?" I joked.
    The elevator doors opened, and we stepped out. He walked me to my car. "Hmm," he remarked, a little sarcastically. "Something's different."
    "Thanks for the rain gear," I said. "See you later."
   
    I was pleasantly surprised. It was Cadeyrn's first day of work, and he was on time- early, even. He was also considerably professional, wearing a dress shirt and slacks. He stood up when I entered the office. "Good morning, Ms. Grier," he said cheerfully.
    "Good morning," I replied warily.
    He sat down after I sat. "So, where do we start?"
    "Hold your horses, guy," I said, still sore at the point where Astaire's foot had connected with my body. "I'll let you know when I have something for you to do."
    I started my computer. He began to twiddle his thumbs.
    "Patience," I said.
    He stopped. "Yes, ma'am."
    As I browsed through my emails, I heard a soft tapping noise to my distant right.
    "Ward," I said, growing irritated.
    The tapping stopped.
    I scribbled some notes on to a pad. A soft whistling commenced.
    The pen in my hand fell loudly to the desk. "Why don't you go get me some coffee?"
    "Sure. How do you take it?"
    I always drank my coffee black, but to annoy him, I said, "Go to Café du Monde and get me a large café au lait." Café du Monde was on the other side of town.
    "Great."
    "And on your way out, ask Mai if she'd like anything."
    "Will do." He left, still cheerful.
    He returned much too soon with two café au laits (not counting the one he'd left with Mai). After he sat down and took a sip of his, he asked, "Why haven't I heard of you before?"
    That baffled me. "Because I'm a private person and I don't need random people knowing me-"
    "No," he said, although it was obvious that he'd purposely asked that question ambiguously. "What I mean is, why haven't I heard of your business before?"
    "Well, we're fairly small-"
    "How long have you been open?"
    "About two years."
    "You need better advertising."
    "You don't think I know that?"
    "Then do something about it." He rocked back in the chair.
    I snorted. "You haven't seen my bank statement."
    "Have you ever operated in the red?" he asked.
    "No," I said proudly.
    "You ought to try it sometime."
    I balked. "What?"
    "Take some risks. Have a little faith in your business. This is what you want to do, right?"
    I didn't know how to answer that. "Guess what- I've got a job for you. Research different types and costs of advertising and report back to me."
    "Yes, ma'am," he said, and turned to the computer before him.
    It worked like a charm: he didn't ask me any personal questions for the rest of the day. Just before closing, he dropped a small stack of papers and notes on to my desk and said, "There you are. New Orleans advertising for beginners."
    I glanced through the stack. "And how many of my limbs will this cost me?"
    "I worked out a few different options- different companies, packages- and came up with some quotes, which you'll find on the last page."
    I needed an excuse. "Do you honestly think I can afford this?"
    "Fire Mai."
    "Are you offering to  become my new receptionist?"
    He shuddered. "No."
    "Then let the woman do her job."
    "Get a loan," Cadeyrn suggested. "Have a yard sale. Find a sugar daddy. Unless you put yourself out there, you'll keep losing customers."
    I just shrugged.
   
    "Hello," I said loudly, closing the door behind me. "I come bearing snacks."
    "Hello, angel," Daddy said, opening his arms, a signal for me to come and hug him. "How have you been?"
    "Fine, Daddy," I answered. "Where's Mama?"
    "Just finishing dinner," Mama said from the kitchen.
    I sat on the floor and leaned against Daddy's reclining chair. "What's wrong?" he asked, looking down at me.
    "Nothing, Daddy. I guess I'm just tired of all this lying."
    "Lying?" he asked. "Lying to who?"
    "I couldn't even tell my secretary that I'm not supposed to advertise."
    "Secretary?" Mama asked through the wall. "You hired someone else when you can barely afford to eat?"
    "I just told him I couldn't afford it," I continued. "Even though Aaron could easily give me the money."
    "Then explain it to him," Daddy said. "Tell him you want to earn your living, and to do that, you'll need to advertise."
    "He thinks it would be dangerous for me."
    "Don't use your full name or face."
    "But my business' name is Eileen Grier Interior Designs."
    "That's not your full name, angel."
    "That's true.... Would the law require me to list my abilities in advertisements?"
    "I don't think so, but either way, it's worth looking into."
    "Thank you, Daddy." I hugged him again.
    My mother appeared with two plates of food. "While you're at it, ask Aaron for a larger salary allowance for Mai and your new secretary- man."
    "Mama-"
    "I was young once, you know." Mama placed a plate before each of us. "You just be careful, okay? And don't take Aaron for granted- he's a godsend, and you're lucky to have him."