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  Toby ordered a round of drinks and, after about a half hour with no sign of the club’s owner, Ivana finally started to relax. Toby’s newest find took to the stage just past ten o’clock. The crowd went insane. Ivana still had no idea what Kpop was, but iKonik seemed to hit all the checkmarks on the boy band checklist: cute faces, flashy, choreographed dance moves, and smooth voices that harmonized to perfection. If she closed her eyes, she could have sworn she was listening to a 90’s R&B group.

  She’d just started to feel okay with Sienna dragging her here tonight when she glanced over and noticed Jonathan walking toward them. She instinctively shirked back against the sofa cushion, attempting to make herself as small as possible.

  No. Don’t you do that.

  She was done being a coward. She sat up straight and relaxed her shoulders. At least she hoped she looked relaxed on the outside. Inside, her nerves twisted and turned in her stomach.

  Toby stood, greeting Jonathan with a one-armed hug. They turned to the stage, where the band had begun an encore of the song they’d just finished. She hadn’t been directly in Jonathan’s line of sight when he’d walked over, so Ivana couldn’t be sure he’d even noticed her. She, however, was acutely aware of every single twitch he made.

  At least he was alone tonight. She wouldn’t have to suffer the heartache of watching him with another woman.

  And then, just like that, he wasn’t alone.

  The woman who’d accompanied him to whatever event he’d attended the other night when Ivana had gone to his office sidled up to him and put her arm around his waist. Apparently, Toby hadn’t realized Jonathan had a date tonight. Ivana could tell by the way he visibly stiffened and how he moved slightly to the left to try to shield her from their view.

  Goodness but she loved her brother-in-law.

  She peered over at Sienna and caught the look of pure disgust on her sister’s face. Ivana signaled with a short wave and shook her head. She didn’t want a scene. The last thing tonight needed was her sister going off on Jonathan.

  This was his club. He had the right to bring whomever he wanted here with him. Ivana would have to deal with this countless times in the future. It was best she get used to it.

  The band brought their final song to a close and the crowd showered them with raucous applause, so boisterous it felt as if the building was shaking.

  “Your acts are forever bringing the heat to my club,” Jonathan said, clamping his arm around Toby’s shoulder as they turned to face the seating area. His smile faltered when he caught sight of Ivana.

  That urge to cower overpowered her once again, but she maintained her outward composure. On the inside, her discomfort was so acute Ivana felt it in her bones.

  Jonathan tugged his date closer to his side, spanning her waist with his arm and settling his hand on her hip.

  The lump in Ivana’s throat magnified, little pieces of her soul dying inside as his actions delivered the message loud and clear.

  “Why don’t we all go upstairs?” he asked. “I’ll have the kitchen whip up some hors d’oeuvres.

  “I should get home to the kids,” Sienna said, her words clipped. “Vonnie, are you ready?”

  “I thought the kids were spending the night at Mom and Gerald’s?” Toby asked.

  Sienna flashed him a death glare. He flinched, then glanced at Ivana. “Oh. Umm, yeah. You’re right,” Toby said. “You should probably get back.”

  Despite the intense desire to grab hold of the opportunity Sienna had handed her, Ivana didn’t want to take the coward’s way out yet again. Instead, she said, “That’s okay if you have to leave. I’ll take an Uber when I’m ready to go home.”

  If she was in the mood to laugh, Ivana would have broken a rib at the shocked looks plastered on the faces around her. But laughing was the absolute last thing she was in the mood to do right now. It took every single ounce of fortitude she possessed to put up this brave front.

  “Uh, okay,” Sienna said, a perplexed frown pulling down the edges of her mouth. “I guess Margo can handle the kids for the rest of the night.”

  “Good,” Ivana said. She pushed up from the sofa and forced herself to smile. “Are we going upstairs?”

  Jonathan and his date led the way to his private suite, which afforded the best view in the club. As she followed, Ivana could only hope she could keep up this performance a little while longer. Lord knows it was the toughest acting job of her life.

  Jonathan stood in the center of the long-vacant warehouse at the corner of Julia and Constance Streets, in the heart of the city’s Arts District. The interior of the three story structure was still in decent shape, a miracle seeing as it hadn’t seen an occupant since Hurricane Katrina. Based on what he knew from his experience renovating his law practice, he now suspected this renovation wouldn’t take nearly as much work as he first thought. Or, at least he hoped it wouldn’t.

  Jonathan heard someone emit a low whistle, then proclaim in a deep voice, “I know you paid a pretty penny for this place. It’s gorgeous.”

  He turned to find Alexander Holmes striding across the concrete floor, followed closely by another man of equal height, but not as much bulk as Alex. Both wore polo shirts with Holmes Construction embroidered on the pocket.

  Jonathan held his hand out, clasping Alex’s in a firm shake and bringing him in for a one-arm hug.

  “Thanks for coming out,” Jonathan said.

  “Thanks for hiring Holmes Construction for this job,” Alex replied.

  As if he’d even think about going with another contractor. The fact that Alex was practically family didn’t play a part in his decision to hire him; it’s because Holmes Construction was the best in the city. Hands down. And when it came to this project, Jonathan wanted the best.

  “This is Travis Hawkins,” Alex said, introducing the man who’d accompanied him. “He’ll be the foreman on this project. The lead engineer is on her way. She’s meeting with a client on the West Bank, but it should be wrapping up pretty soon.”

  “Sounds good,” Jonathan said. “Just a warning, I may have to skip out a bit early. I have a meeting back at the office in about forty minutes, but if you have anything in particular that you need me to clear up you can always text or send a message through LaKeisha.”

  Alex waved him off. “This initial assessment is just to give us an idea of what we’ll be working with. Based on what you want to do with this place, I doubt it’ll take the entire eight months you mentioned.”

  “I want to open in eight months,” Jonathan said. “Indina will need at least two months to work her magic after you’re done.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that. Indina can take a decrepit pile of junk and make it look like a mansion within a week,” Alex said. “I told her she needs to start one of those design shows on TV.”

  Jonathan laughed. He’d been telling Indina the same thing for years. She definitely had the personality for it. She’d bring a fresh perspective to all those house flipping shows his sister, Jacqueline, loved to watch. That reminded him, he owed his twin a phone call. She’d been on her way to a 76ers game when he called last night, and nothing came between her and her basketball.

  “What made you want to open a nightclub in this part of the city?” Alex asked as they walked toward the far end where Jonathan had envisioned a large, circular bar. “Are you sure that kind of crowd would fit in this area?”

  “This won’t be that kind of club,” Jonathan said. “Think more laid back. Relaxed.”

  As he examined the space, it was hard not to think about Ivana and how she’d inspired his newest venture.

  Don’t think about her.

  He’d expended an insane amount of effort to jettison all thoughts of Ivana Culpepper from his mind. Thinking about her would bring back memories of the hurt he’d glimpsed in her soulful eyes last night when he’d tightened his arm around Camille’s waist.

  Jonathan wasn’t even sure why he’d done it. To hurt her? To show his friends that he di
dn’t need her? To show himself that he didn’t need her?

  Once they’d gone up to his private suite at the club, he’d attempted a course correct, putting some distance between himself and Camille. Not that it had mattered. Ivana had mostly ignored him, spending the rest of the night chatting with Aria Jordan and then with Monica and Eli Holmes, who’d arrived in time for iKonik’s encore performance.

  Still, that flash of hurt he’d witnessed in her eyes remained with him. He couldn’t get that vision out of his head.

  Why was she here? Why couldn’t she have stayed in Honduras or Haiti or wherever the hell she’d run off to when she’d left him? Having her back in New Orleans stirred up feelings he’d vowed never to feel again, toward any woman. He’d be damned if he fell victim to them again.

  Alana Sanders, Holmes Construction’s lead engineer, arrived, and Jonathan forced thoughts of Ivana out of his head. He needed to focus on business.

  He started to breathe easier after a half hour of touring the warehouse. Alex and his team knocked on the walls, inspected the beams and gave the space a cursory overview, deciding that, overall, the building was solid. Jonathan wasn’t naive enough to expect smooth sailing throughout this process. He’d learned during the renovations of both The Hard Court and his law practice that there were always hiccups along the way. But as long as those hiccups didn’t blow his budget clean out of the water, or add months of extra time to the job before it could be completed, he was ready to take whatever this warehouse handed him. In the end, he would have a night spot unlike anything New Orleans had ever seen.

  Several months ago, he’d flown overseas to visit a number of gentlemen’s clubs throughout Europe after finally deciding to go ahead with the idea he’d been mulling over for the past couple of years. There were only a few in the United States that even came close to the type of establishment he planned to open. But, unlike those clubs, his would not be exclusive to men.

  “Hey, do you have everything you need here?” Jonathan asked Alex. “I need to get back to the office.”

  “I want to stay a little while longer. We’ll take some measurements and a few pictures, then my team and I can start working up a plan.”

  “No problem,” Jonathan said, handing Alex the key. “I can drive over to your office to pick the key up later today.”

  “Actually, I’m meeting up with Harrison after work,” Alex said. “We’ve been putting off getting together for weeks now, and both our wives told us that we’d better take some time to meet up or they’re not letting us back in the house.”

  “Good for them,” Jonathan said with a laugh. “Harrison’s been trying hard to relax, but it’s not easy to give up being a workaholic when it’s been your way of life for so long. I’m happy you’re there to help him. He needs it.”

  “We both do.” Alex held up the keys. “I’ll drop these off when I come by to see Alex. The estimate for time, materials and the cost of the reno should be done by next week.”

  Jonathan left Alex and his team at the warehouse, driving down South Peters toward his office. Just as he pulled into his parking spot, his phone rang with the law practice’s number. “I’m outside,” Jonathan answered. “You can show Chris Barton to my office.”

  “He had to cancel,” LaKeisha said. “He just called.”

  Well, shit. He could have stayed at the warehouse a bit longer with Alex and the rest of the Holmes Construction crew.

  “However, Angus Thomson is here to see you,” his receptionist continued.

  Jonathan stopped in the middle of opening his car door. “Did he say why?”

  Although, the question he really wanted to ask was whether or not Angus was alone, or had he come with Ivana.

  “No, but I can ask,” LaKeisha said. “All he said was that he only had a short time and wanted to speak with you.”

  Jonathan entered the law office and walked directly to his receptionist’s desk. “You mind ordering lunch for the office?” he asked.

  “My pick?”

  “Yeah. Just none of that Greek food,” Jonathan pleaded.

  “You will learn to appreciate a good gyro.” She cocked her chin toward the side parlor. “Mr. Thomson is in there.”

  “Thanks,” Jonathan said. On his way to the parlor, he spotted Nicolas coming out of the downstairs conference room.

  “What are you doing here?” Jonathan asked. “I thought you had that seminar?”

  “Cancelled. The entire panel of speakers got food poisoning last night,” Nicolas said. He held up the file in his hand. “I’ve found some pretty interesting things in here. Let me know when you have time to talk about it.”

  “As soon as I’m done with Mr. Thomson,” Jonathan said, motioning to Angus. He shook the man’s hand, his entire being sagging in relief upon discovering he’d come alone. “Should we go to my office?” Jonathan asked.

  “Actually, this won’t take long,” Angus replied. “I only have a few minutes, but I couldn’t leave without thanking you personally for your help. Ms. Dayton took care of everything. I fly out to Los Angeles at three o’clock.”

  “Really?” Jonathan’s eyes widened in surprise. “Serena cleared that up quicker than I thought she would.”

  “Yes,” Angus nodded. “I still think this country’s visa system is a scary thing, but this wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be.” He held his hand out. “Thanks again.”

  “It was no problem,” Jonathan said. “Enjoy California.”

  As soon as Angus exited the room, Nicolas let out a derisive snort. Jonathan looked over his shoulder at him. “You good?”

  Nicolas nodded, but Jonathan sensed something was wrong. He gestured toward his office, signaling for Nicolas to follow him.

  “You’ll let me know when lunch arrives?” he asked LaKeisha on the way to his office.

  “I ordered Jamaican, by the way,” she said. She put her hand up before he could speak. “And, yes, I made sure to order extra beef patties.”

  Jonathan slapped a hand over his heart. “This is why you can never, ever leave this job.”

  LaKeisha just stared at him with a bland look that said she only had one nerve left and Jonathan was working on it. He’d been the recipient of that look so many times over the years he saw it in his sleep.

  Once in his office, he cleared a couple of thick, leather-covered law books from his desk and motioned for Nicolas to take a seat.

  “I’ve been reading up on Louisiana’s forced heirship law,” Nicolas said, spreading the file folder open in front of Jonathan. “Do you know this is the only state that has such a thing?”

  Jonathan closed the folder. “Forget about this for a minute. I want to talk about what just happened. What’s your problem with the guy who just left? Something about him pissed you off.”

  “It’s nothing,” Nicolas said. Jonathan tried his best to mimic LaKeisha’s bland look. He doubted it was nearly as good as his receptionist’s but it did the trick.

  Nicolas rolled his eyes, but then said, “I know you can’t talk about that guy’s case because of attorney/client privilege.”

  “Actually, he wasn’t a client. I was just doing a favor for a fri—for someone,” Jonathan corrected. “Do you know him?”

  That didn’t seem likely, but something about Angus had gotten underneath Nicolas’s skin.

  “No,” he answered. “But I know his type. He’s a foreigner, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “A foreigner who had some kind of problem with his visa. And just like that,” he snapped his finger, “his problem is solved. He can move about the country however he wants, right?”

  “I’m not clear about the specifics, because I directed him to a friend who deals with immigration law, but apparently whatever the issue was with Angus’s G-1 visa, it was an easy fix. They were able to clear it up within a matter of days.”

  “Of course they were,” Nicolas said. “That’s the way it happens for some people.”

  Jonathan had no idea what
was going on, but this wasn’t like the mild-mannered kid he’d been mentoring these past couple of months. Nicolas’s nostrils flared, the sharp angles of his clenched jaw emphasizing his anger.

  “I’m going to ask again,” Jonathan said. “What is going on? You can tell me. Maybe I can help.”

  Nicolas slumped back in his chair, a brooding frown curving his mouth downward. Jonathan had never seen him in this kind of mood.

  “It’s about my uncle,” he finally said.

  “Is this your uncle Javier you’ve mentioned? What about him?” Jonathan waited several beats before he asked again. “Nicolas?”

  “His Green Card expired.” He sat up in his chair, rested his elbows on his thighs, and hunched his shoulders. “My uncle Javier came here to work construction after Katrina. A lot of people did. Javier probably had an easier time because of my parents—I told you about my parents, right? How they both came here to teach?”

  Jonathan nodded. “You said they’ve been here since the early nineties, right?”

  Soon after he’d started here, Nicolas had told Jonathan that his mother taught Spanish and Math at one of the city’s private schools, and that his father had been a physics professor at Holy Cross College before he passed away.

  “Uncle Javier went through all the proper channels and got a conditional, two year Green Card.”

  “But he didn’t get it renewed after his Green Card expired,” Jonathan surmised.

  “He got it renewed once, but then stories began to emerge about people being denied and deported. Who knows if it was true or not, but a lot of people who came up here after Katrina decided it was better to take their chances.” Nicolas shrugged. “He’s been living underground, like a lot of people I know.”

  “So what’s the issue now?”

  “My grandmother is sick and Uncle Javier wants to go home to visit. But I’m afraid if he does leave, they won’t allow him back into the country,” Nicolas said. “I can’t lose my uncle, Jonathan. He’s the one who helped raise me after my dad died. And I don’t want my mom to lose her brother, either. Having Uncle Javier here has been such a blessing for her.”