AlTonya Washington - Provocative Territory

Clarissa knew that the woman had been on her own since the age of fourteen. How she’d survived was a tale Jaz had never shared with her niece.

Clarissa had a fine idea. Looking into the faces of the young, lovely women who made their living at Jazzy B’s Gentlemen’s Club, Clarissa guessed a lot of her aunt’s history ran parallel to theirs. Clarissa, whose job was akin to recruitment, saw those same hopeful yet guarded women when they were at their most frightened and defeated.

The stories of their upbringings were far removed from fairy tales and romance. Clarissa learned a lot about her aunt through the very girls she gave purpose. In them, she saw her aunt’s fears and shame but also the woman’s strength and intelligence.

The dancers walked into the expansive room. It had served as Jazmina’s office, lounge and private dance studio. The girls arrived in a silent, somber stream. They all charted a path right to Clarissa for warm hugs and cheek kisses. Once each girl had found a spot to sit in the vibrantly decorated room, Clarissa moved to stand in the clearing.

“By now you’ve all heard about Jaz’s passing. Yes, Meri?” Clarissa pointed to the young woman whose hand was raised.

“Um...we didn’t even know she was sick.” The petite girl’s tone was whisper soft.

A murmur of voices filled the room for a short while before Clarissa raised her hand for silence.

“I talked with her doctor. She’d been taking heart medication for a while and um...” Clarissa cleared her throat when emotion suddenly crowded it. “She didn’t want anybody to know, not even me.”

Rayelle came over to grip Clarissa’s hand. Clarissa welcomed the contact, which gave her the power to keep talking.

“I wanted to meet with you guys to assure everyone that jobs are secure. I’ve got no intentions of closing down or selling off the clubs.” Clarissa gave the news a few seconds to settle.

“I’ll never be able to replace my aunt in your eyes and I don’t want to. I will strive to give you the same sense of contentment and security you’ve always felt as employees of Jazmina Beaumont.” She managed to laugh although it was clearly shaky.

“I’m, uh, not one for speeches so I’ll just end it there. Either Rayelle or I will be in touch with the details about—” Clearing her throat that time did no good. The ball of emotion was wedged deep. She waved off Rayelle, who was moving close to offer more comfort.

“We’ll let you know about the funeral service,” Clarissa got the words out.

“All right, ladies, that’s it for now.” Rayelle gave a clap to rouse the young women from their spots on the sofas and settees. “You can head on to rehearsal, makeup or anything else on schedule. We open in three hours.”

The girls took time to kiss and embrace Clarissa again on their way out of the office. Rayelle watched until the last dancer had gone.

“You’re right,” Rayelle said, pulling her hands through her shoulder-length hair and clasped them behind her neck. “I think they were better off hearing that from you.”

“Hell, Ray.” Clarissa leaned against a corner of the white oak desk. “I don’t know a damn thing about running a business let alone a strip club.”

“Gentlemen’s oasis,” Rayelle corrected, using Jaz’s preferred description.

The words brought a smile and then laughter. The desire to laugh held on to Clarissa far longer than the actual humor the comment merited. It just felt so good to give into the urge.

“You know you’re wrong about that,” Ray said once they had sobered from the laugh attack. “What do you think you’ve been doing for Miss J all these years? I can’t think of a better person to handle this place.”

“I can.” Clarissa cast a pointed look toward Ray, who again laughed.

“Oh, no, Miss Clay. I am not the one for schmoozing and hobnobbing and grammatically correct speech.”

Clarissa’s brow rose. “Could’ve fooled me.” She shrugged when Rayelle waved her off.

“I don’t know half of what it takes to operate this place.” Clarissa glanced at the folders she’d been browsing before the meeting with the dancers. “I don’t even know the ins and outs of who might’ve been giving her problems...nothing....” She knocked a fist against a jean-clad thigh.

Ray laughed one more time. “What are you talkin’ about? This place runs like a lean machine. I never heard Miss J complain about any problems.”

“Yeah, remember this is the same woman who didn’t tell us she had heart disease and bypass surgery, either.”

Ray folded her arms at her waist. “What are you getting at, Clay?”

Clarissa spent the next few minutes talking of “the day” when she spoke to Jaz over the phone and how insistent the woman was about talking to her in person.

“That is weird, even for Miss J.”

“So, in other words you and the girls haven’t noticed anything strange. She wasn’t acting funny...before?”

“Nothing I can put my finger on.” Rayelle’s fair features appeared shadowed by worry. “I’ll keep an ear open around the girls anyway.”

“I don’t even know what appointments she needed to keep.” Clarissa was staring at the files again. “Only thing I was kept in the loop on was the new construction project. Jaz wanted me on hand to take any necessary trips.”

“Guess that’s where it pays not to be a control freak.” Rayelle referenced Jaz’s penchant for organizing all aspects of her business calendar. Working for Jazmina Beaumont, a secretary or assistant was left with little to do.

“Know what?” Ray began to leer indulgently. “That’s the perfect excuse for dinner out on the town.”

Clarissa frowned. “What is?”

“Miss J’s appointments. We can go through her planner and get a better idea of her upcoming commitments. I’m pretty sure you won’t want to be hanging around here when this place opens in a few hours.”

“Mmm...” Clarissa leaned her head back as though she were envisioning the meal. “Add drinks to that offer and you’ve got a deal.”

“Now we’re speakin’ the same language.” Rayelle hurried over to Clarissa. They exchanged kisses and hugs over the stack of folders.

* * *

“You threw us for a loop here, sir. We weren’t expecting that,” Elias told Cleveland Echols when they spoke by phone later that afternoon. Eli had wasted no time asking the man about his decision to back out on the construction of the new bank.

“I am sorry about it, boy, but it’s like I told Tigo and Linus. A sudden loss of investors.” The man sighed. “Can’t say I’m all that surprised given the shaky state of the economy.”

“Right,” Eli agreed then massaged his eyes. “So that was the logic behind their decision to pull the plug.”

There was silence from Cleve Echols’s end of the line.

“Mr. Cleve?”

“It’s a complex matter, son.”

Eli bowed his head then, regretting the strain that came through in the man’s voice.

“How long have we known each other, Mr. Cleve?”

Cleveland Echols’s soft chuckling came through the line. “Since your mama brought you to the bank to deposit your first twenty dollars.” Cleve’s laughter continued as he recalled a then seven-year-old Elias Evan Joss refusing to leave his money until Cleve had come out from his office to personally assure him that he’d have access to his funds at all times.

“You should know that I only want to help, sir,” Eli cautioned once the laughter had settled. “It should go without saying that you can trust me.”

“That’s really all I have to tell you, Elias. The investors pulled out and went in with Waymon Cole.”

“Cole...how do I know that name?” Eli murmured.