In A Cold Sweat

“Maybe I had you wrong, Jacara. Maybe you are just another pretty face.”

“Since I am having a blonde moment, I’ll take the pretty face thing as a compliment.”

“It was meant to be one,” I said to Jacara, thinking that she was as pretty as Cassandra and Mystique; if not prettier.

Not too long after that, Esmond and a waitress came out of the kitchen carrying two plates. “Bahamian crawfish with peas n' rice made with love for the beautiful lady,” he said and placed the food in front of Jacara.

“Thank you, Esmond. It looks and smells delicious. I know I’m going to enjoy it.” Jacara turned to the waitress who had just put my food down and a drink in front of me. “Can you bring me another Sea Breeze, please?”

“No problem,” she said and went about her duties.

“Excuse me, Esmond, but what is Mr. Black having?” Jacara asked.

“Me fix curried Rock Lobster with peas n' rice for him, beautiful lady. Made with the same love as yours.”

“That’s not on the menu,” Jacara protested. “If it was I would have ordered that.”

“Me make it special for him,” Esmond said.

“Ownership has its privileges,” I said, and began eating my food.

“I tell you what, beautiful lady. I make you the same deal me have wit’ him. When you come in, I fix someting special for you, just as me do Black.”

“I’ll have to let you know about that,” Jacara told Esmond, who bowed graciously and disappeared back to his kitchen.

After we ate our food, I invited Jacara to join me upstairs on the observation deck. “I’ve never been up here before,” Jacara said as we walked upstairs. “What's in there?” she asked pointing to the door at the top of the stairs.

“An office and a small apartment that my wife and I used to stay in sometimes when we didn’t feel like goin’ home.” Which I hadn’t gone in and don’t think I’m gonna. Too many Cassandra memories in there.

“I didn’t know you were married,” Jacara said nervously like she expected Cassandra to bust though the door and bitch slap her.

“Don’t look like that. She was murdered not too long ago.”

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“How could you? When you didn’t ask.” I started to say, ‘Don’t be sorry for me. Be sorry for the mutha fuckas that were behind it, ’cause I’m gonna kill all of them, just as soon as I find them.’ While it was the truth, why be a drag on the day?

When we got out on the deck, the view of the beach and the Caribbean Sea took Jacara’s breath away. “This is an absolutely beautiful view. I didn’t know this was up here.” She moved to the rail and looked out in all directions. I was enjoying Jacara’s company.

We spent the rest of the day out on that deck, just as Cassandra and I had done many times, talking and looking at the horizon until the sun disappeared from the sky. Since neither of us seemed to like answering questions, we agreed, no questions. She didn’t ask me any more about who I was or what I did, and I knew all I really wanted to know about her.

When it was time for her to go, I walked her to her car. She took a step closer to me. “I enjoyed my day with you, Mr. Black, Mike Black.” Jacara said in a way that reminded me a little too much of Cassandra.

“I enjoyed you,” I said, ’cause I did. Mystique and I don’t really talk much, so I enjoyed just talkin’ to Jacara. But that’s where things always get complicated. “Goodnight, Jacara.” I gave her what amounted to a brotherly hug, you know, a pat on the back and an appropriate amount of space between us. But that wasn’t enough for her.

Jacara wrapped her arms around me and I felt her lips against mine and pulled her closer to me. I liked the way her body felt against mine, but I knew I would. With my eyes closed, I could see Jacara naked, sliding up and down on top of me.

“I liked that,” Jacara said.

I felt her body tremble a little in my arms. “Did you?” Jacara stepped away from me.

“Maybe we could continue this later?” Jacara stepped to my chest. “I’m at the Sheridan tonight. No big stage show or anything like last night at the Port. It’ll just me in the lounge singing old standards with a piano player. But stop by tonight, late,” Jacara said and kissed me on the cheek this time. “If you’re not busy, of course.”

“Maybe I will.”

“If you do, I’ll sing Girl from Ipanemaaccapella for you. You did say that was one of your favorites?” Jacara said and got in her car. I watched her drive off before I told Jamaica's men that I was ready to go. And I mean I was really ready to go.

As we drove, I thought about Mystique. I liked her, which is why I don’t allow her to get close to me. It could be no different with Jacara. She was funny, intelligent, and very playful. She was fun to be with and I know I could get to like her too.

And would that really be all that bad?

Wanda tells me all the time that Cassandra wouldn’t want me to be alone for the rest of my life. And for a second, I considered staying a while on the island. But I felt like I dishonored her memory being there on the island with Jacara. I was on a plane back to New York first thing the next morning.

Chapter Fifteen

While Black dealt with his personal issues in the Bahamas, he was the topic of discussion at a meeting of The Commission in New York. Bruce Stark sat in the corner and looked out the window, while BB and K Murder argued back and forth about what they should do next.

“It was stupid to send one mutha fucka to try and kill Black. Now Freeze got his whole set out in the street tryin’ to find out who sent him. Where did you find that sorry mutha fucka anyway?” BB asked

“I brought him in from Cleveland.” K Murder looked at BB. He was tired of his shit and all that whining about this shit was getting on his nerves. “What your ass worried ’bout? They ain’t gonna trace him back to you.”

“And what if they do? What then?” BB demanded to know.

K Murder stood up and so did BB. “Then you’ll just have to man up!”

“What you say to me, nigga?” BB put his hand on his gun.

“I said-”

“No, nigga, I heard what the fuck you said.” BB took out his gun and so did K Murder.

The two stood silently with their guns pointed at each other, not saying a word.

“What?” Stark asked. “You two gonna shoot each other?”

Neither man answered.

“I didn’t think so. Now put the guns down, sit down and let’s get back to business,” Stark commanded.

“Only business we got, Stark, is why you let this nigga be down?” K Murder asked.

“Mutha fucka, don’t you know I will kill you right now!”

“Make a move.”

Stark got up and quickly snatched the gun from K Murder’s hand and pressed it against his temple.

“What now K? What else you got to say? I ain’t BB. You fuckin’ know that I will put a bullet in your brain and call my fat-ass Mexican maid to clean up the blood.” Then he took out his gun and pointed it at BB. “And you, mutha fucka? What you gonna do?”

BB lowered his weapon and sat down. “Nothin’, Stark, we straight.”

Stark handed K Murder back his gun. Once again, he pointed it at BB. “Bang,” he said and sat down, but he kept his gun in his hand.

Stark looked at his two so-called partners and wondered how he ever thought it was a good idea to get involved with them. “You two make me fuckin’ sick. Instead of us talkin’ ’bout what we gonna do about Black, all you two wanna do is argue like little fuckin’ bitches. K, I know Cash was your boy and shit, but BB is right. One fuckin’ guy to kill Black? Come on, you should have known better.”

“Yo, man, that’s how your boy set it up. The plan was for him to catch Black in the pussy, walk in and cap