Release Me Page 3

  He’d set out to alienate everyone who’d tried to help him, from his old teammates to his physical therapist. He’d even raised his voice to Mama, the one time he’d ever done so in his life. The day he’d caused tears to stream down his mother’s face was the day Toby knew he’d crossed a dangerous line. His callous disregard for his own mother’s feelings had terrified him, but he’d plummeted so far into his personal pool of self-pity he wasn’t sure how to drag himself out.

  His self-destructive state of mind had been one of the reasons Toby had stayed away from home for so long. He had not been ready to face the future, had figured he was due at least a few more years of wallowing, but Alex refused any excuses. His brother had promised bodily harm if Toby did not snap out of his depression. Instead of snapping out, Toby sunk deeper. And stayed away.

  Instead of relinquishing his stance, as Toby hoped he would do, Alex had issued an ultimatum: either find something else to do with his life besides moping, or don’t come back to New Orleans.

  No, Alex was not a hand holder.

  Still smarting from Alex’s remark, Toby reminded his brother, “I did offer to play ball with you and Eli last Saturday.”

  “Yeah, but only because you knew we would say no. The one-on-one game between me and Eli is sacred.”

  “Whatever,” Toby said. “I still owe the two of you a butt whipping on the golf course.”

  “In your pitiful dreams,” Alex answered. “Grab that miter box.”

  Toby snatched it from the toolbox and handed the cutting guide to his brother.

  “I only caught bits of what you were saying about the TV show yesterday,” Alex continued. “When do they start filming?”

  “Not for another five weeks. I haven’t officially signed on yet,” Toby said, bracing the wood while Alex used the backsaw to cut a perfect 45-degree angle.

  “What in the hell are you waiting for?”

  Toby looked up at his brother, then quickly looked away. Alex always could read him like a book.

  Alex braced the saw against the trunk of the oak tree and grabbed a bottle of water. “What’s going on with you, Toby? You’re the one who decided to jump into this music thing.”

  “It’s not just some thing. This is my career.”

  “Then start acting like it,” Alex said, pitching the water bottle on the ground and crossing his arms over a massive chest whose muscles bore the benefits of years of hard labor. Alex treated him to a piercing glare, “What are you afraid of?”

  Making a fool of myself.

  Proving I really am destined to be a failure.

  “I’m not afraid of anything,” Toby insisted. “I just want to be confident that I’m making the best choices for my client.”

  “Getting her on national television? Do you know how many rising stars would kill for this opportunity?”

  Toby knew Alex was right. He’d been having this same conversation in his head for the past thirty-six hours. He knew this was the right thing for Aria’s career, but what if it didn’t work out? What if he found a way to screw this up the way he’d screwed up his basketball career? There were so many what ifs his head was on the verge of exploding just trying to get a handle on them.

  “What if I mess this up?” he asked, unable to stem the question.

  The edges of Alex’s mouth tightened. Toby could feel the irritation radiating from his brother. Alex reached into his pocket and retrieved his cell phone. “Call the man. Right now, Toby. Call him and tell him that Aria is going to do the show. I taught you to go after what you want, not run from it like a scared little girl. Now take the damn phone and call the man.”

  His brother, Mr. Sensitive.

  Toby ignored the phone. “I’m meeting with Kellerman later today.”

  “On a Sunday?”

  Toby shrugged. “There’s no such thing as a day off in this business.”

  Alex’s chin jutted forward, challenge gleaming in his eyes. “So, what are you going to tell him when you meet with him?”

  “That Aria is going to do the show,” Toby said, feeling better now that he’d finally made the decision.

  Alex pushed the phone back into his pocket. “I still should kick your ass.”

  “Didn’t I just say we’re going to sign on for the show? Leave the ass-kicking for your basketball game with Eli.”

  “I’m an expert at ass-kicking. There’s plenty to go around,” Alex said with his version of a smile.

  Toby grabbed a bunch of the wooden braces his brother had cut and walked over to where half the frame for Jasmine’s new room was already up. “You’re not worried about moving Jazzy on the opposite side of the house?” he asked.

  “No. I’m moving into the guest bedroom,” Alex answered. His eyes rose briefly, his silent warning amazingly loud.

  Toby didn’t need the warning. He knew better than to comment about Alex’s decision to move out of the bedroom he’d shared with his wife, Chantal. Or as Toby and Eli thought of her the lying-cheating-bitch-from-hell. Her death nearly two years ago had not caused him any heartache.

  Toby decided to drop the subject.

  “Speaking of moving.” He held the end of a two-by-four steady as Alex went at the other end with an electric saw. “Where is Cee Cee living these days? I heard she moved out of her mom’s house.”

  “Yeah, she moved into her grandmother’s place about six, seven months ago. I’m not sure if it’s even been that long,” Alex answered.

  “She’s doing pretty well for herself,” Toby said. “New job, new house. You know if she’s seeing anyone?”

  “How would I know that? And why does it matter to you?” his brother asked, putting the saw down and staring at Toby with that look that had always raised his defenses.

  “Don’t,” Toby warned.

  Alex had told him a long time ago that he was a fool for not seriously pursuing Sienna. Toby inwardly cringed at the thought. Cee Cee was like a sister. Other than the time back in high school when they had experimented with the bottle of Tequila she had found in her mother’s closet, Toby had never thought of Sienna in an even remotely sexual way. They had kissed that day. A kiss that had gone way farther than he had intended for it to go. But it had been the liquor. At least that was the story he was sticking to.

  Still, he could never imagine being with Sienna in that way. It was just too weird.

  Well, not that weird…

  “So, why did you ask?” Alex questioned.

  “Because Jonathan is coming into town tomorrow and I was thinking about hooking them up.”

  Alex’s brow shot up in surprise. “You’re playing matchmaker now? I thought that was Mama’s job?”

  “Mama will probably try to find some poor young thing at the church to fix him up with, but I think Jonathan and Sienna would get along. They’ve got a lot in common.”

  “So do you and Sienna.”

  “Would you leave that alone?”

  Alex raised his hands, palms out. “You’re stupid. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “That’s all? That sounds like enough.”

  Alex plunked another two-by-four on the sawhorse and started up the saw again. “I’m just trying to help you out here,” he shouted over the buzzing. He released the saw’s trigger and waited until the whirl of the tool had faded before continuing. “Sienna is smart, fine, and successful. She’s not out in the street every night. She goes to church. And—”

  “So why don’t you go for her?” Toby threw the words at him, his annoyance building by the millisecond. “Or at least go for somebody.”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  “Somebody should. If you don’t get some soon, you’re going to forget how to do it.”

  “I thought it was like riding a bike?” Alex said, settling another plank of wood on the sawhorse.

  “You keep telling yourself that,” Toby snorted.

  A grin broke out across Alex’s face.

  “What?” Toby asked at his brother’s uncharacteristi
c expression.

  “I just bought a new ten-speed so I could go riding with Jazzy to the park. First time I tried to get on it, I fell flat on my ass.”

  Toby burst out laughing. “Oh man, I don’t want to be anywhere around when you finally decide to get busy with a woman.”

  “That won’t happen for a very long time.”

  “Why not?” Toby frowned.

  The corner of Alex’s mouth twisted in exasperation. “I’ve got a daughter to think about, Toby. How do you think it would make Jazzy feel if I started bringing strange women around so close to her mother’s death?”

  “Chantal has been dead nearly two years. It’s not as if you owe that bitch any special mourning period.”

  “That’s the mother of my child you’re talking about,” Alex warned, his voice cold and hard.

  “You can keep her memory sacred for Jasmine’s sake, but don’t ask me to show her any kind of respect. You may be able to forgive what she did to you, but I won’t.”

  Anger spiked in his blood. If he could bring her back from the dead, Toby would do so just so he could have the chance to kill her with his bare hands. He would never forgive Chantal for the pain she’d caused his brother.

  “I didn’t say I forgave her,” Alex murmured. “But I understand.”

  “You what!” Toby exploded.

  “Let’s drop this, all right?”

  “We’re not dropping anything. What do you mean you understand? She died with her lover in the same car with her, and you understand?”

  “Toby!” The blood vessel on Alex’s forehead bulged to twice its normal size. “Drop it,” he ground out.

  “Fine,” Toby said, dropping the two-by-four, as well. “I need to get out of here anyway.”

  “You’re bailing on me?”

  “Hey.” Eli came from around the corner of the house, surprising them both. “Oh, hell. What did I just step into?” he asked as he looked from Toby to Alex.

  “Nothing. I was just leaving. I have a meeting with the producer of the show.”

  “Go handle your business,” Eli said.

  “Maybe while I’m gone you can get someone to come and examine your brother’s head.”

  Alex shot Toby a look that should have sent him running.

  Eli turned to Alex. “What’s he talking about?”

  “Nothing,” Alex answered. He picked up the hammer, and Toby could tell by the look in his eyes that his brother wanted to clobber him over the head with it.

  “I’m out of here,” Toby said. Walking away, he felt a small measure of satisfaction as he heard Eli and Alex arguing.

  Chapter Three

  Sienna stared up at the stately mansion, with its austere balustrade and towering two-story Grecian columns. A fountain, surrounded by a vivid display of tea roses, wisteria and rhododendrons, gurgled petulantly just beyond the gate. The house mocked her. Standing proudly amongst the other grand structures in the city’s Garden District, home to some of New Orleans’s wealthiest inhabitants, the mansion was an unforgiving representation of a life she thought she had left behind.

  “Sienna,” her mother called from where she stood just inside the partially opened wrought-iron gate. “Are you going to stand on the sidewalk the entire afternoon, or are you coming in?”

  Was standing on the sidewalk the entire afternoon an option? There wasn’t a question which Sienna would pick if given the choice. Millicent Perkins’s home stood as a stark reminder of the painful past Sienna had no desire to revisit. Just the thought of the memories being inside that house would conjure sent a cold shudder down her spine.

  “Sienna!” Her mother shot her an aggravated look. “I swear, if your sister were not moving, I would have asked Tosha to join me. Lord knows she’d make a better impression.”

  That’s because Tosha lived for this pretentious crap even more than her mother did. Sienna swallowed back her retort. It wasn’t worth it.

  “I need to get my wrap out of the car,” she said instead. She went back over to the car and retrieved her lace wrap. How ridiculous that she had to get more dressed up for Sunday tea than she was for church this morning.

  She followed her mother through the gate, the sound of it closing causing her heart to constrict. The clinking of a prison cell shutting behind her could not have elicited more distress. Sienna swallowed past the emotions clogging her throat as she made her way up the short, stone-laid walk.

  “Good afternoon, ladies.” The Perkins’s housekeeper greeted them at the door. She was dressed in the black and white maid uniform of years past. “Tea is being served in the courtyard today.”

  The housekeeper guided them through the richly dressed parlor. Gilded mirrors adorned the silk-covered walls. The dark-colored paisley pattern was drab enough to sour anyone’s mood. An antique Louis XIV settee, covered in similarly depressing fabric, sat under one of the mirrors.

  Everything about the house exuded Old Establishment. It was a lifestyle her mother had never had, and no matter how many teas, bridge parties, or debutante balls she attended, Sylvia Culpepper would never fit in. After all these years, many of the women in her mother’s circle still looked down on her. Instead of admitting defeat, Sylvia just tried harder.

  Sienna could never grasp the logic behind her mother’s fierce determination to be accepted by these women. Sylvia allowed the rules of the Camilla Social Club to dictate nearly every aspect of her life. Every time she witnessed her mother compromise her own beliefs for fear that it would be frowned upon by the Camilla’s, Sienna lost another smidgen of respect for her.

  And this time, Sienna found herself caught up in the fray. Today’s tea was just the beginning of a season of stuffy, pretentious social gatherings her mother would guilt her into attending.

  Sienna stifled the expletive that was on the verge of escaping her mouth. Her mother would probably fall in a dead faint if she embarrassed her by uttering a dirty word in her friends’ presence.

  It was something to think about.

  A respectable crowd was already gathered in the courtyard, some sitting at small round tables, while others gathered around the cherub fountain in the center.

  “Sylvia, darling.”

  Sienna made every effort to hide her grimace as Millicent Perkins broke away from the group at the fountain, walking toward them with arms opened. Millicent greeted her mother with two near-kisses on the cheek. She was followed by several of her mother’s friends, people Sienna had not seen in years.

  Millicent turned her way. “Where have you been hiding, Sienna?”

  As far as possible from people like you. “Not hiding, just extremely busy,” Sienna answered.

  “Tamika will be so excited to see you. She should be here shortly. She, Ahmad, and the kids are having their pictures taken in the gardens at City Park. Today was the only day the photographer could fit them in. But,” Millicent delicately hunched her shoulders, “you have to make sacrifices if you want the best.”

  Of course, nothing but the best.

  Sienna wasn’t sure she could stomach an entire afternoon of her mother’s so-called friends debating whose children had the better jobs, houses, and families. That would lead to an entire night of Sylvia lamenting the fact that her daughters were lacking in every aspect of their lives.

  “So, Sienna.” Millicent sidled up next to her, taking Sienna’s arm and intertwining it with hers. “Do you have any kids yet?”

  Sienna noticed her mother’s face tighten as the woman asked a question she most certainly already knew the answer to.

  “No, no kids.”

  “Oh, you girls need to make a grandmother out of Sylvia. It isn’t fair that the rest of us have to wear that badge of age and she doesn’t.”

  “All in due time,” her mother said. Then, quickly changing the subject, she said, “So, Millicent, did you have the chance to visit Tosha’s store while you were in Atlanta a few months ago? You know she’s moving back there. She and her business partner are opening a second locat
ion.”

  Of course her mother would stir the conversation to the only daughter she deemed a success. Sienna tried not to grit her teeth. Why did her mother even bother to bring her here if she wasn’t good enough to flaunt in front of her friends? Tosha should be the one going through this hell.

  Then again, it wouldn’t be such hell for Tosha. Her older sister fit right into New Orleans’ African American high society sect. But being in this element again dredged up memories Sienna had tried to bury since the night of her debutante ball.

  God, she did not want to think about that night. But how could she not when she was being bombarded with so many triggers?

  Some sixth sense had warned her not to go to Karena Johnson’s after party the night they had made their debut into society. She had ignored her intuition, and instead Sienna had lied to her mother, telling her she was going to spend the night at Ivana’s dorm at Xavier University. She’d taken the city bus at night, something her parents never allowed.

  Going to Karena’s party had not been the worst; it was drinking the punch she’d known was spiked that had been Sienna’s downfall. The alcohol had loosened her inhibitions and muddied her brain. She would have never gone out in the alley next to Karena’s apartment building with Curtis Henderson if she had been in her right frame of mind.

  Just the thought of his name sent a violent chill racing across her skin. She had not allowed that name to surface in her mind in years. But that’s what being back in this world did to her. It made her remember everything from this part of her past. Especially the dark parts.

  “Sienna!” Her mother’s near shout pulled Sienna back to the present.

  “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” she asked her mother, whose neck had puffed to an unnatural size above the clenching collar of her silk blouse.

  “Millicent was asking about your job. She said her niece is thinking about going into pharmaceutical sales, and I told her you do something along those lines.”