CHAPTER NINE
"I'm gonna kill her!" Jo yelled at the top her lungs.
A blank fragrant envelope with the impressions of lips in a dark red lipstick was taped to the door. There were no words, no hidden threats or promises. It left the owner of the apartment curious and then enraged when Jo opened the door and read it.
"Woman scorned?" Remy eyed Jo's reaction letter in hand.
Jo glared. She needed to control her breathing. She had just expected the Princess to feel bad lick her wounds and fight another day. It was juvenile and petty and quintessentially Blair. Remy thought it was hilarious.
"She put out an ad?" Tootie gasped.
"More like registered Jo's number and address as an open anytime up for anything type of deal if you get my drift." Natalie's intonation said it all.
Natalie remembered when she had to spell everything out to Tootie. Her youth was a lot simpler than the others, but with age comes wisdom, for some. She didn't consider putting up a billboard with her ex's picture advertising all you can eat was mature. Of course because the billboard was in Natalie's overactive imagination didn't mean Blair wouldn't go that far.
"You know what we need to do right?" Tootie shook her head to the offer of donuts by an eager intern. She had had her share of crushes growing up so she tolerated Lester's attention with more patience than most.
"Make them share a cramped space and a bathroom, put them on kitchen detail make them cook and clean after us until they figure out the facts of life?"
Tootie laughed. Natalie was the comic relief, Blair and Jo was the old married couple, and she was the talent. They could have opened an act if they wanted to with the way things were going.
"I was thinking more along the lines of sitting them down like adults," Tootie added with an air of maturity.
Natalie frowned. She liked the idea of Jo and Blair waiting on them hand and foot.
"Did you learn nothing from our meddling at school?"
Tootie didn't need Natalie reminding her of several failed attempts as mediator. She felt that earlier years had prepared her for what not to do when it came to them. Older and wiser with a practicality on her side she ventured to impress upon Natalie the wisdom of neutrality.
"Do you remember the fight's those two had? Now ones a cop and the other's a lawyer they can do some serious damage to the other if they put their mind to it."
Natalie grumbled. Far be it for her to have faith that either woman would eventually work it out. They were adults, sometimes. They agreed on a plan of action. They would convince Jo and Blair to join them both for lunch at Tootie's apartment. Tootie would start tearing up if either one of them decided to storm out like a child. Natalie would console and scold with scolding eyes and make them feel guilty enough to stay and hear them out. Then they will note off a list of reasons why they loved each other and why this fight wasn't worth the headache they were giving the other or them.
Being in love wasn't sane and Jo resigned to that idea when her mother fell for her father. The guy was a sweet talker. While he regularly took people on joy rides of bullshit, the woman he fell in love with were most affected. She didn't think she'd be that dumb until she woke up one day realizing she was in love with Blair Warner. She recited the long list of reasons not to be infatuated when she got up in the morning and went to bed at night. When that didn't help she relied on her sheer will power. She underestimated the Warner charm, and could fully understand why people risked breaking every bone in their body for a fall like love.
Jo spotted Blair when the thought crept up on her. Through the throng outside the glass doors of David Warner's penthouse she stood with her back turned. The party took up most of the floor for special occasions such as these, where the rich and exclusive could rub elbows. It was tradition to hold a special get together of who's who before the annual masquerade gala.
The dress Blair wore fell slightly but tastefully showing a seductive line of her spine. The dress was red and thigh length. She looked elegant and very much a part of the crowd of people eying her wardrobe distastefully. Jo knew she was sorely underdressed for David Warner's party, but she didn't care how he would respond. She didn't much care what strangers thought of it, even though she had a pretty good idea. Her private school days were over, but there were some things that still stuck, nothing haunting, just things that weren't easy to forget.
When she reached the glass opening the blonde still hadn't turned so Jo admired her silently. She loved Blair. Despite how she acted she never stopped. She figured Blair knew that and still held out hope, she was always hopelessly romantic and optimistic that way. While she could stare at her for hours and admire the way the blanket of light draped her in sexy mystique, she didn't want to lose track of herself.
She didn't know how long she stood there not saying anything. She gave herself a mental pep talk discouraging her more primal needs. Then the old Polniaczek charmed reared its head.
"Nice night for murder," Jo growled from behind.
Blair turned her head slightly a smirk lifted the side of her mouth. She had felt eyes on her back. A part of her knew that it was Jo, but she wasn't brave enough to face the woman just yet. She didn't have to wait long for Jo to make the first move. Jo was always impulsive that way.
"Hello Jo," Blair said smoothly taking a sip from her glass of champagne.
Pushing off the frame she'd been perching on she responded, "I suppose you're satisfied with yourself?"
Blair shrugged in answer. "You were looking for a whore Jo I didn't think you'd mind friendly support."
"Since we're being friendly how bout I support you over," Jo gestured toward the balcony.
Blair didn't look away from her view, "sarcasm, did you learn that trick all on your own?"
"Us Neanderthals are quick on our feet," Jo leaned against the balcony with her hip eying the blonde.
"Hmmm fetch and roll over aren't doing it for you these days?" Blair's face folded in mock sympathy.
"Bite me princess," she gnarled.
"Turn blue Goodwrench," her ex countered in sing song.
Jo scoffed turning her back to her. Hands ran through her hair as she took a few paces away from the uncompromising woman. If she stood any closer she would be tempted to help the lawyer over. Her eyes trained on the inside with the guests of her David Warner's exclusive party. She came to deliver a package, but was sidetracked when she saw the vision outside.
They were relatively alone, but the muddled sounds of conversation kept her aware of witnesses. She couldn't kiss or kill her without being seen by at least one person from the party.
"There you are darling," a masculine voice broke the tension only to feed a thicker cloud. He held a glass out for Blair that she took replacing her empty glass. She allowed his hand to wrap around her possessively. Randall was pleased that Blair had been more receptive to his silent advances. He hadn't considered that the woman at his side allowed it only as a message to Jo. Randall just enjoyed making the claim. Ignoring what the gesture meant she sipped from her glass looking smugly at Jo.
The brunette had gone silent. Her eyes were taking in the couple. He was just Blair's type, the kind of man her father would be proud to have in his daughter's company. The introductions were made true to Blair Warner's sophisticated flair for theatrics. One moment Jo was ruled by reason and logic and the next by impulse and anger. Ripping Blair away from him sounded like a self satisfying idea. She thought better of the idea doing the next best thing and walked away.
She stalked through the room saying 'excuse me' and 'pardon me'. Slipping a bottle off the refreshments table she disappeared in the back to wait for Dave. Remy had followed close behind. The form fitting black suit and gloves gave him an air of mystery.
Jo plopped down in a leather chair drinking from the bottle. Remy did his own plopping on the couch, watching the one woman show. He didn't dare say a word to her tonight. He knew she was packing and he was very much attached to his life. The sounds from the main room where the suits and gowns laughed as obnoxiously as they dressed were whispers behind the thick oak of the study door. She hadn't wanted to come tonight. David had insisted.
Riven Marsh was a stout man with expensive tastes for underage Asian girls. He frequented a popular massage shop to sample and eventually purchase. She saw herself pounding into him before her fist even connected with his face. She looked at her bruised hand. She wasn't a cop anymore. She smirked to herself. What was she then? Titles were always Blair's thing. She looked at her bottle no longer thirsty, just sad. Had this moment been the point all along? She hoped not. Too much of her life had been dedicated to being something more than a rich man's lap dog.
"What are you still doing here?" Blair glared when she opened the door to the study. She had followed Jo with her eyes not wanting to give her the satisfaction of a chase. Curiosity got the better of her unfortunately.
Jo's eyeballed the couch, "Remy."
Remy's brows hiked. He looked from Jo to Blair and then back to Jo again. He knew it was a silent command to walk the debutante out. But she didn't appear like she was going anywhere with or without his help. Jo didn't sign his very generous paycheck either, David Warner did. He wasn't about to man handle his daughter over a lover's quarrel.
Blair observed him carefully. She hadn't noticed him when she walked in but she did recognize him. They had just never been formally introduced.
"Who are you?"
"He's just leaving," Jo answered before he could. Her eyes were open now disappointed that Remy was smarter than he looked. Blair stood untouched glaring at her in a dress too sexy for words.
The Cajun was undecided whether they should be in a room together, alone. David Warner had given him a rough history on Jo and his daughter. From the little that Jo shared he filled in the blanks wherever he could. These women had history and Jo was in a dark place in her life. "Think that's a good idea boss?"
Blair had questions about who this man was. And Jo had questions on why he was still here. She laughed at the concern riddled on his face. Would she hurt Blair Warner? She already had. That ego cultivated to withstand natural disasters had been bruised by the actions of a lowly Bronx mechanic. She snorted that she of all people wielded so much power over a woman, who could have the world if she chose.
"Not a strand will be harmed on the delicate Warner heiress' head," Jo held up her hand to salute. "Scouts honor," she added.
Remy sat up standing his full height. He nodded to Blair then Jo and left. He strongly doubted she had found time to be a scout in the Bronx, but he could count on her word.
A pregnant silence settled between them. Jo thought about walking away, but Blair was in front of the door and she was certain the woman wouldn't let her pass. She contemplated the window behind her, but she wouldn't be coming back from that fall.
"Why are you here?" it was the first thing that made sense to ask. Jo wasn't dressed to impress and no one just sat in her father's office.
The brunette answered with a wiggle of her eyebrows, "enjoying the view."
"Pig," disdain rolled off her tongue.
Jo shook her head negatively, "not anymore they fired me."
Blair frowned, "what?"
"The size of my balls made the department feel inadequate," the former cop shrugged, "go figure." They hadn't officially fired her yet, but she could read between the political lines.
"Jo," Blair took a step toward her.
Before Blair could say another word the door opened. David Warner waltzed in masculine and graceful, "here you are darling Randall has been asking about you and here you are." He smiled making a point not to acknowledge Jo.
Blair smiled at her father allowing him to embrace her at the shoulders. "Jo and I were just talking."
His eyes landed on the young woman sitting in his chair. "Joanne hello I'm assuming everything went well this evening?"
She nodded in answer.
"What went well?" Blair queried curious as to why her father would be so chummy with her ex.
Jo was curious how David would explain.
"Jo works for me," he stated simply, making the effort to pull her away from the room not look like an effort.
Blair turned fully to Jo and slightly away from her father's hold, "really?"
"She is a good friend of my favorite daughter, who needed a job. Her expertise as a cop is advantageous in security matters. Joanne's always been a sharp young woman."
"Security? And neither of you thought this was worth mentioning?" her voice lowered. Her father wasn't telling her the whole truth and Jo was just sitting there letting him lie.
David gave Jo a deliberate look of trepidation before he sighed. He sounded like he was telling the truth. The lie was even plausible Jo acknowledged as David brought up Jo's suspension. It was a favor for a friend of his daughters. He didn't see the harm in keeping it between him and Joanne especially since she didn't want her friends to worry.
Blair looked between her father and her ex. It was on the tip of her tongue to mention Teodor's garage and the money. She knew her father well enough to know he would just explain it away, like he had done everything else just minutes ago. If she wanted the truth she wouldn't find it here with them.