CHAPTER ELEVEN

The magazine was guilty entertainment. The lives of the rich and the famous were fodder for lowly nine to five workers like him. Remy sat in the front seat of his employer's car reading, drawn into the drama of an article about an actress getting impregnated by aliens. Being privy to Mr. Warner's routine, he had thirty minutes left to finish up on the article. The man enjoyed his spa days almost as much as his daughter did hers.

He frowned with the thought of Blair Warner. He admired her from behind the safety of his shades. He knew any overt admiration wouldn't be appreciated by two certain people he happened to work with and for. He flipped aimlessly through the pages when he considered his predicament. His job for the most part required him to be deaf, dumb, and blind. He was good at that. Being in the type of home he grew up in with his dad and mom yelling only moments after they put him to bed, it was skill he needed if he ever wanted to sleep.

From his peripheral the door to the facility was opened and David Warner strode out casually. Any stress he shouldered before walking in looked to be properly relieved. Remy with practiced ease exited to open the door. The older man stopped to look up at the larger man. Remy kept his eyes forward until he noticed the curious gaze trained on him.

"Sir?"

The wind blew gently, but the wisps of David's hair bent to its will. Outside of his unruly hair his five hundred dollar tailored suit and his concentrated gaze showed nothing but control.

"You've worked closely with Joanne," David looked at him pointedly.

Remy nodded his head even though it wasn't a question.

"Do you like her?"

"As much as she allows anyone to like her, sir," he answered carefully.

David smirked knowing how true that statement was. He settled into the back seat and Remy closed the door behind him wondering where that came from. David would protect his daughter from anything especially herself he felt that she wasn't making a wise decision. Remy shook his head walking around the car. Nothing set right with him of late, and that included his interest in Jo.

The record was thirty in the row. Green eyes stared at the target. Aiming and then releasing with a flick of his wrists he would have won if a shoe hadn't pushed it. The small crowd erupted in groans. Louie glared at the foot and then the shapely leg it belonged to, rising to the shit eating grin. Wary eyes tracked the blonde passed Jo's former desk to Louie's side.

"Louie."

"Miss Warner," he stood quickly. He'd only been introduced to the heiress once or twice, so he kept it formal.

"Blair," she corrected. She looked at the glances from the other officers at the desk. She was always too busy to visit Jo at work. And whenever they had lunch dates they would always meet up somewhere. Jo never wanted her there.

Her eyes raked over the room with an inquisitive gaze. Desks were littered around the room all piled high with papers. There weren't telling pictures of family. She supposed that safeguarded the numerous criminals from getting too close. The room was alive, but the room had a stark serious quality. It wasn't a room she would have wanted to spend five days out of a week in.

Some cops wore uniforms while others suits. She remembered how Jo looked in her uniform when she first became a cop. There was something about a woman in uniform that did things to her, but she preferred her laid back Jo. Her face softened and she was at her most unguarded in jeans and t-shirt.

"Blair," the cop conceded, "Jo's not here," he wasn't sure if his friend told her anything about the suspension so he kept it vague.

"I came to see you actually," she smiled charmingly.

He found himself returning a smile that wasn't nearly as eloquent.

"Are you free for lunch?" Blair looked at his desk full of paper crumbled in balls.

He followed her eyes to his desk shrugging, "slow day."

When he collected his jacket and they walked side by side out to Blair's car. He stopped to stare at it causing the heiress to stop in question. The last time he'd been in a limo he was burying his mother.

"Is there something wrong?"

He shook his head looking down the street. "You came here to talk about Jo, we can talk and walk. There's a deli two blocks down with a very tasty lemon pie."

Blair's head reared in the direction of the deli and then the cop. She turned to the driver, who held the door patiently for her. She relayed that she wouldn't need his services and told him to wait.

Two steps into their uncertain silence Louie broke it, "my mother died and I haven't been able to look at a limo much less get in one."

Blair's eyes widened, "oh…. I'm sorry I didn't know."

"Yea," he shrugged pushing his hands to the bottom of his pockets.

"Jo was great at the funeral and so was Dorothy," he reminisced.

Blair frowned. She didn't remember Tootie ever mentioning that to her. Then her mind moved to the events of earlier today, the way they were laid out holding each other. It bothered her that Tootie and Jo had become so close.

"It's good that she has someone like Dorothy with what she's going through."

"What do you mean?" Blair asked testily, "going through what?"

"Look Miss Warner," he started slowly taking the woman in. His private musings on Jo and Blair as friends left him wedged between incredulity and impractical. Jo explained their dynamic once as a smoothie. He interpreted that in his own way because she hadn't explained further. He saw this woman on the arm of prominent men from the community. She was worth more than the guys at the precinct would ever make in their lifetimes combined.

Park Avenue, as Jo sometimes called her with an endearing lilt, eyed him curiously as he continued, "Jo should tell you this or at the least you could talk to Dorothy."

"Why would I talk to Dorothy?"

"If you can't get the truth from the horse's mouth I figure the girlfriend's the next best thing."

Usually he wasn't so callous with Jo's sexuality, but Blair grew up with Jo. He knew that despite their many differences Jo considered her family. He looked at her expression carefully but she didn't show a hint of shock. They stopped. Strangers passed them on the street. Some glanced in their direction and others passed by without a glance. Blair kept her face neutral of the surprise she felt. Tootie and Jo, the idea of the duo as a couple rang in her head like a bad headache.

"I suppose you're right," she smiled. He reached for the handle of the deli door, but she shook her head. Whatever appetite she had when she left Tootie's apartment had long gone after this news. She declined graciously claiming she didn't want to keep him. Louie didn't think anything of it remaining polite and oblivious.

Blair strode calmly to the car that sat waiting. She settled into the seat grateful for the traffic. When she reached the office some time later and she closed the door gently. She felt comforted by the leather of her chair. When the clock informed her of the time she stood and walked down the hall to the conference room. Her movements were second nature and perfunctory. Two back to back meetings kept her undivided attention. Her ability to compartmentalize grew better as time passed. For hours she pushed Jo and Tootie to a corner of her mind she would revisit later.

Her colleague, Roger, took the lead with the meeting. It was an import/export deal with a new Asian client. Blair spoke the language fluently, but spoke only when she needed to. It was the strategy for Roger to take the lead on the meeting, since they were more comfortable with working with men. Usually that fact bothered her, but she didn't pay it any mind.

The second meeting she took on more of a responsibility. It was a long standing client that wanted more reassurances on security during shipments. The contracts would be drawn up new legal stipulations. Blair played charming well. No one had assumed that she was hurting on the inside.

She walked in her office with her head in files. Vesper smiled as she passed, but it went unnoticed.

"Hello sweetie," a bouquet accompanied the greeting when Blair crossed the threshold into her office.

"Randall?" her mouth curved upward on cue. She walked by him with a peck to his cheek before she lay down her files.

"I wanted to surprise you," he came up behind her smiling in her hair. "You look ravishing."

She didn't feel ravishing, "I'm wearing a work suit."

"You're the only woman I know that makes business formal look so….sexy," he growled the last part. Dipping his head at the nape of her neck he let his hands rest languidly at her hip. The bouquet lay forgotten on the table.

She responded moving her neck to the side to give him better access. She closed her eyes feeling his lips, but an unwelcome face popped into her head. She opened her eyes. The reflection of both her and Randall met her gaze.

"I want to take you out tonight," she felt his smile widen against her skin.

"I have a lot of work to do."

He stiffened at the excuse. He pulled back enough to put distance in between their bodies. His hands were still firmly holding her waist. He brushed his thumb along the fabric, before he answered, "I'm sure can wait until tomorrow."

She moved around the desk. He frowned at the added distance, "I wouldn't brush off your work Randall I expect the same courtesy."

"Brush off?" he repeated curious. "Am I missing something?" She answered with silence. He pulled in a deep calming breath. He prided himself on his ability to be enduringly patient. Blair tested his resolve, but he always acted like a gentleman. Randall didn't know where her anger was coming from; he knew he hadn't initiated it.

"Is there something wrong?"

There was plenty wrong. Blair wouldn't say the words out loud, at least not to Randall. He wouldn't understand that she was in love with a woman. He wouldn't understand the rage that pulsed through her at the news of Jo's new relationship. They flaunted it in her face for lunch. And then she had to hear it confirmed from an old friend of Jo's. It shook her to her core to feel like her reality was being ripped from her. Jo was hers. Who was Tootie to waltz in and seduce the love of her life?

Different emotions played over her face. She'd almost forgotten Randall was there until her eyes focused again. He studied her with concern, but she shook off her trepidation.

"It's been a long trying day," she said softly with her half truth.

Randall wasn't a fool. When he was approached by Blair's father to instigate a relationship he relished the blessing. Women fawned over him and Blair was a rude awakening. At first her aloofness was a challenge he enjoyed. The pleasure of the chase only heightened by the pedigree of a woman that most found unattainable. There was more to Blair's long trying day, but she wouldn't share it. She always shared just enough and then shut down.

Sighing heavily he followed the same path she took to distance herself. He grabbed her hand, but left her ample space.

"I'm here for you."

She looked at their interlocked fingers. His hands were considerably larger than hers. There was a thin row of hair on the outside of his hand leading to his palm. His hands were manicured. Jo's were harder from working with them so much. There was no threat that would get the headstrong brunette into a nail salon. Caught off guard by the raw emotion of pleasure she smiled at the memory. Blair didn't realize how Randall might have interpreted the smile. A hand reached under her chin and coaxed her head upward until their eyes met.

"I'm here for you," he repeated with more conviction.

Jo slammed the door behind her. The couple at the other end of the room jumped. Blair didn't seem pleased to see her, but she knew better than to make a scene in front of Randall. Randall spoke first turning fully to acknowledge Jo.

"Jo isn't it?" he smiled thinly, irritated at the interruption. Blair visibly stiffened when she walked in the room.

"Randy," she never took her eyes off of Blair; she shoved her hands in her jacket pockets ignoring his outstretched hand.

"Randall," he corrected.

Jo grinned looking at him for the first time since she walked in, "Randy, you think me and Blair could talk alone for a sec?"

"We were headed out for dinner," Blair interrupted.

Randall smiled at the news while Jo's stomach dropped. It wasn't new for her to announce that she would be going out with a beau, but Jo was out of practice to brushing it off. She was either never around or too absorbed with her own thoughts to care. Unfortunately when Blair left that morning, it meant that she had to face off with Tootie and Natalie alone—with a hangover. It wasn't her ideal afternoon.

"We need to talk," Jo countered planting her feet as if she thought Blair would resort to shoving her out.

Clenching her jaw, she turned a kinder gaze to Randall, "could you give us a minute."

He replied with the brush of his lips on her cheek and moved to leave the room. Jo watched him close the door more gently than she had when she first came in. She shook her head.

"He's dashing," she stated sarcastically motioning with her thumb.

"Among other things," Blair smiled too sweetly for Jo's taste.

"Does he know about your extracurricular activities at my apartment?"

Blair's face flushed, a hand rested on her hip while the other played with the stems of her bouquet. "Did you come here for a reason Jo?"

Jo was smiling inside, this is exactly what she wanted, confrontation. It was as sweet as the hum of the engine of 76 Corvette. She stepped towards Blair. Her eyes traced the line of Blair's stance until they landed on her lips.

"You left so quickly this afternoon you missed all the fun."

"Well I'm sure you and Tootie were having enough fun for all of us last night." Her inflection was unmistakable and Jo was left with a less than intelligent response.

"What?"

Blair pinched the bridge of her nose turning away from her.

Jo continued. "I don't know what kind of high priced drug your own but you're definitely getting your money's worth."

Blair whirled around quickly. Caught off guard when she realized Jo stood within inches of her reach. And while it was just that comforting to be this close again, memories from their last confrontation were still raw.

"I know," Blair's accusation was ground out through clenched teeth.

Jo took an unconscious step back, she often enjoyed the blondes rage, but this was different. She tilted her head going over in her head what Blair was talking about. There was a long list that Jo didn't want to dwell on that Blair didn't know. Since 'Columbo' claimed to know whatever it is that she knew Jo wasn't going to give anything until she found out.

"And what's that Blair?"

Jo could see how much of a chore this seemed for Blair to say, "You're sleeping with Tootie."

The mechanic's brows jumped, "….Tootie?" Jo looked dumbly at the lawyer.

"Tootie," Blair repeated solemnly hoping she didn't sound as hurt as she felt.

Jo would have laughed. She would have laughed hard. Instead, she was interrupted by Blair's latest love interest reminding her they needed to hurry before they ruined their reservations.

Blair couldn't be reasoned with when she was like this. Jo didn't have a level head. She watched him take liberties while putting her jacket on, and Blair let him. Sucking in her first reaction she turned on her heel. Blair watched her go from the corner of her eye. Jo hadn't denied it, she would have rather Jo denied it.

The brunette had come to rant after she spent the remainder of her afternoon stewing. She didn't have anything specific, just a general idea of what she'd yell about. This was how they communicated in their best and worst moments. But Blair was dismissing her for a dinner. Dismissing her like some common servant she owned. And to top it off she thought she was sleeping with Tootie. Tootie of all people, she stopped a sardonic chuckle from erupting at the notion. She watched the doors to the elevator closed and used the back wall to hold most of her weight. What was happening to her? What was going on with her life? Question such as these spun in her head left her ungrounded.

Blair would be having dinner with some handpicked David Warner look acolyte. What would her life have been like if she had never met David? It was a question to mull over while contemplating the meaning of life. If she hadn't met him then she would have never met her friends. If she hadn't met him she'd probably be dead. If he wasn't so smug about all the good he had been the cause of then she could grin and bear it. Though, David's specialty of late was getting on Jo's nerves with his stance of superiority.