Leaving the LAW

to do is open my own shop. Finally, at one of those sessions, Laura took my hands in hers and told me to just go ahead and do it, if that’s what would make me happy. Quit teaching and start my own business. I told her I had no idea what it would cost, and do you know what she did?” Louis grinned widely and said, “She got out her wallet and emptied it on the table and said, ‘Well, whatever the cost, you’re twenty-seven dollars and fourteen cents closer now.’ There was something about her confidence in me, her encouragement. Almost everybody else I knew was telling me to stay in teaching, maybe get a part-time job in a clothing store, do things gradually. But Laura, she seemed to know what was going on in my heart. I quit teaching, got a good deal on this place . . . remember, this was before the whole SouthSide Works thing began . . . and then almost went broke the first year. The only thing that saved me was Laura and some friends she dragged in on a regular basis buying clothes I knew they didn’t need. There were a couple of months that year when Laura basically paid my rent. Not only that, she also had a habit of stopping by the place at dinnertime and telling me to go grab a bite while she kept an eye on things. And then there were those occasional Saturdays when she’d show up with her schoolwork, and alternate between waiting on my customers and doing her lesson plans. Never took a penny, of course. Finally, I told her she could keep helping out like that only if she agreed to let me make it up to her someday, and she said she would. Once I started actually turning a profit, I told Laura it was payback time. It was right before the start of another school year, so I called her and said she should come in that weekend and pick out some new clothes for work.”

“Let me guess,” I said. “She didn’t show.”

Chuckling, Louis leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees and said, “That’s exactly what happened. But I was ready for her. I called a couple more times and reminded her about our deal, all to no avail, of course. So a few weeks later, I Fed-exed ten new outfits to her apartment. Suits, dresses, skirts and blouses, with all the accessories. And I included a note, told her she could come in once or twice a year and at least pick out a pair of jeans, or have a new wardrobe delivered to her apartment every summer, it was up to her.”

“That’s why she has that world-class collection of jeans,” I said.

“Absolutely,” he said.

Louis sat back and was quiet for a minute before he spoke again.

“Part of me knows I don’t have to say this, but part of me’s going to say it anyway. A while ago, the guy Laura was seeing before you, he hurt her. I wanted to go have a conversation with the gentleman, but Laura said no. She said he wasn’t a bad man, just the wrong man, for her, anyway. But he still hurt her, more than she let on to most people.”

Then Louis looked me straight in the eyes. He didn’t speak, just looked. The look wasn’t so much accusatory as it was questioning.

I looked right back at him.

“I would never hurt her, Louis.”

He waited a minute, then nodded, as if some kind of confirmation had just taken place. Then he put out his hand and said, “I know that, Jeremy.”

For the second time that afternoon, I shook his hand. Then I started to leave, but stopped and turned back to him.

“Hey, Louis,” I said. “It’s JB.”

He gave me the big grin, and said, “You go, boy!”

I made it all the way to the front door before I finally gave in.

“Louis,” I said. “I gotta ask. What’s with the name of this place?”

“The Fashion Faux Pas?” he said. “That’s easy. When I decided to start my own business, most of my friends and just about every banker in town told me I was making a mistake. So I thought we should all have a vested interest in the name of the joint. If I failed, well, they were all right. If I didn’t, well, some of those people go by here every day. I like to think my shop is a reminder to them to maybe have a little more faith in the dreams of others. Of course, I also plead guilty to not being above touting my own success in a somewhat more ostentatious manner, too.”

“How so?” I asked.

“See the Jag out front?”

I nodded.

“Bought it last week,” Louis said.

And then his grin grew even wider.

“Cash.”

* * *

As I drove back across the Hot Metal Bridge and made my way onto the Parkway East, I had two thoughts. First, I was proud of myself for buying just the one dessert when I’d stopped at the Cheesecake Factory a few minutes earlier. Iron will.

Second, I reminded myself that I had to get a gay sidekick. All your best detectives have one.

Chapter 36

There was a slowdown on the Parkway East, just before the Squirrel Hill Exit. What a surprise. As the traffic crawled along, my cell phone rang. Maybe it was T-Man, calling to tell me he’d seen the error of his ways and was going to disband the Links and dedicate the rest of his life to a quest for world peace. Well, okay, that was a long shot, especially since T-Man didn’t even have my number. Paris Soloman did, though, and it was his name that appeared on my screen. I knew Paris liked me. Who wouldn’t? But I didn’t think we were at the point in our relationship where he’d be calling to invite me to the fall semi-formal at Franklin, so I was guessing something to do