Kiss Me Twice. Geri Guillaume
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consultants. Even after all of his research and verifying business references, the last consultant he dealt with back in New Orleans cashed the hefty check he’d written then filed for bankruptcy before he could finish the job. It was a hard lesson, one that Bastien took very personally. Maybe it skewed his perspective and made him overly suspicious of consultants, but overly suspicious meant more money kept in the company’s bank account.
“You want me to throw away what little credibility I have left with the company on some pencil-pushing desk jockey who doesn’t know the first thing about my business but will charge me out the behind to pretend that they do. Uh-uh. No way, Solly. Forget it.”
“Wait a minute now, before you shoot me down. Just hear me out.”
Bastien folded his arms across his chest, leaned back in the chair and set his face into a deep scowl. “Go on.”
Solly took advantage of Bastien’s distance from the table to reach for his chili cheese chips. He shoved a few into his mouth, crunched for a few minutes and wiped his hands on his already food-stained bowling shirt. “I know this lady. She’s really sharp and classy.”
“Who is she? And what’s she got to do with the inspection business?”
“Her name’s Phaedra Burke-Carter. Her cousin is Darryl Burke-Carter. Do you remember him?”
“Something about that name sounds familiar.” Bastien snapped his fingers a couple of times, trying to remember.
“His family’s big money here in Houston. They started the Burke-Carter Foundation.”
Bastien drew his eyebrows together. His expression showed his ignorance.
“You know, the Burke-Carter foundation,” Solly insisted as if repeating the words slowly would clear up the mystery for Bastien. “One of the largest independent, charitable foundations in west Texas. A clearinghouse for all kinds of grants. Education. Medical research. Community development. Promotion of the arts. Human rights welfare. If there’s a worthy cause to be found, the Burke-Carters are champions of it.”
“Hey, I’m not from here. I’m Louisiana bayou, born and bred.”
“Don’t you pull that Louisiana-bayou-born-and-bred routine with me. You only lay on that Creole accent thick as gumbo when you want to get to the ladies. You went to Prairie View A&M here in Texas, just like I did.”
“But I finished up at LSU.”
“But you brought your tail back and got your MBA from the University of Houston. You’ve been here long enough to become a naturalized Texan.”
“Naturalized my behind. I’ll go back as soon as there’s something to go back to.”
“You ain’t goin’ anywhere,” Solly predicted with certainty. “You’ve got too much invested here.”
“All I’ve got here is trouble,” Bastien muttered.
“I told you, I think I know the lady who can get you out of it. Burke-Carters are local philanthropists,” Solly went on.
“This doesn’t seem like the right solution for me.” Bastien had heard enough and stood up as if to leave.
Solly reached out and grabbed Bastien’s forearm. “I want you to ratchet down your pride for just a minute and listen to me, Bastien. I’m trying to tell you what the Burke-Carters are all about. Are you listening to me?”
“Yeah, I’m listening.”
“Now sit your yellow butt down and keep on listening. Their great-grandfather made his first million before he was twenty. Everything they put their hands on turns to gold. They pass it on through their genes and through the generations.”
“How can the Burke-Carters help me?”
“She’s a well sought after health, safety and environmental consultant. Her specialty is the oil and gas industry. Rig safety. Refineries. Stuff like that. But I think she can help you, too.”
“Is she expensive?”
“I suppose so,” Solly said honestly. “She’s in pretty high demand. She can charge a premium for her services if she wants to.”
“I don’t think Remy would authorize spending for that.”
Solly felt badly about the pressure Bastien was under. Solly knew about the sacrifices Bastien had made in his personal life. He left his lady behind in New Orleans to chase after the job that G-Paw Thibeadaux offered him. It wasn’t a topic that was open to discussion. Gabrielle wouldn’t leave her family, couldn’t pick up everything to move to Houston with him. Even if she had followed Bastien to Texas, he wouldn’t have been able to give her the attention she needed. Not with Remy setting crazy hours for him. Tough job. Crazy boss. No social life. No wonder he was stressed out.
“Find out if this Burke-Carter woman would be willing to take on a pro bono client,” Bastien suggested. “I can just see Remy blowing a gasket if I tell him that I want him to authorize spending out of my division.”
Solly reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He withdrew a business card and held it, just out of Bastien’s reach.
“Find out for yourself. I’m sure once you talk to her you’ll have a lot more questions. Questions that I won’t be able to answer for you. But don’t take it if you’re not serious, Bastien.”
“I’m not convinced that I need to talk to her at all. I don’t like spreading my business in the streets, Solly.”
“Call the woman, Bastien. She won’t spread your business around. She knows how to keep a confidence.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“How come you aren’t?”
“Why should I be? I’ve never heard of this woman before today.”
Solly pinned Bastien with a hard stare. “Phaedra went to school with us, Bastien. You sure you don’t remember her. Wound up at a couple of our frat parties. She would have been hard to miss. Big brown eyes. Thick black hair. Crazy thick. When she wore it down, it used to fly all around her head just like Diana Ross. She used to wear it in a long french braid. Five foot seven. Legs all the way up to her neck. Remember when she came to the homecoming Halloween party our senior year wearing only a leopard print bodysuit?”
“No, I don’t remember that. How’d you happen to have this Phaedra Burke-Carter’s card in your wallet?”
“I ran into her a couple weeks ago. Forgot I had the card until I listened to your boys talking tonight. So now I’m passing it on to you. You either use it or you don’t. You ready to get yourself out of trouble?”
Solly extended his arm, holding the business card between his index and middle fingers.
Bastien hesitated for a moment “Give me the damn card,” Bastien said before he snatched it out of Solly’s hand.
“Now, is that any way to act toward someone who’s planning your surprise birthday party?” Solly grinned at Bastien. He raised his beer to his lips, drained the last of it and set the bottle down on the table with a thump and a restrained belch.
Bastien ignored Solly, staring down at the business card as if a magic answer to his workplace problems would appear before him.
“Samuel told me about your surprise three weeks ago,” Bastien said. “What time am I supposed to show up and try to look surprised?”
“Party starts at six on Saturday. You show up at seven and work on your surprise face and your attitude.”
“What’s wrong with my attitude?” Bastien asked, pretending to sound offended.
“What’s right with it?” Solly countered. “Face it, Bastien. You tend to run roughshod over people when things are going too slow for you. You’re more like that G-Paw Thibeadaux than you think