Chapter 3

               Just as Remy rounded her desk to see her last client of the day, her phone buzzed.  “I’m on my way,” she said before Alicia could speak.  Because Alicia had buzzed her once already, Remy almost hung up before she heard Alicia yell, “No, Mrs. Price is on line one.”

            “Mrs. Price, how good to hear from you.  Let me call you back—”

            “Remy, dear, I know it’s late, but I’ll be there in about ten minutes.  I need some things immediately.”

            “I’m sorry, Mrs. Price, but I have a client waiting and I’m leaving after that.”

            “I just wanted to make sure you were there.  See you!”

            “Mrs. Price!  I’m not going to be able to see you this evening.  We can schedule something next week.  Let me see what I have available.”

As Remy’s most prominent client, Mrs. Price had to be handled politely but firmly.  The woman was a steamroller, intent on having her way.  During the time the purple aurals had been oppressed, Mrs. Price’s family was one of the very few that hadn’t lost a single male member.  And because of that, their family had more money than most purple families did when the oppression ended.  As a result, Mrs. Price was the matriarch of a tremendously wealthy and influential family on The Island.  She had taken a liking to Remy when they’d met at The Island Center where Remy volunteered and Mrs. Price sat on the board.  Lots of clients had come to Urbane because of that meeting.   

Having made the appointment for next week, Remy shook her head and entered her workroom with a bright smile.

            Mrs. Stevens and her daughter, Chantelle, turned at Remy’s greeting, diverting their attention from the bolts of fabric displayed against one wall, in a cascade of color and texture.

            “I like this one,” Chantelle pronounced, holding up one of Remy’s favorites—a beaded teal chiffon that faded to white at one end.  “And Ms. Renee, here’s a picture of the dress I want.”

            Remy took the proffered picture and, without glancing at it, sat at her computer to take a look at the client’s measurements.  Before she’d come in, Alicia had entered the daughter’s measurements into Design Boutique, the software Remy used to birth her creations.

            “Okay, Chantelle, let’s see what you have in mind,” Remy said, looking down at the picture she still held.  For just a moment, she lost control of her eyebrows.  They shot halfway up her forehead before she could settle them back down and turn her gasp into a cough.  Glancing up at Mrs. Stevens, Remy saw nothing but enthusiasm.  No parental concern for the diamond-shaped crater in the middle of the dress which would expose Chantelle’s breasts at one end and just about everything else at the other.

            Though, at least, Chantelle had the figure for this dress.  Some clients brought pictures of celebs, models, or relatives with a look that the client had no hope in hell of accomplishing. 

             A few computer sketches later, Remy had come up with a less revealing dress that Chantelle and her mom loved.  Ecstatic, they went on their way with promises to refer their friends.

            Remy let out a heartfelt sigh and rolled her shoulders before returning to her office where Jace’s phone numbers waited.  Minutes passed as she stood before her desk gazing out of the window, the paper with his numbers in her hand.

            Okay, enough of this procrastination, she thought as she dialed Jace’s cell.

            Before the phone ever started ringing, Remy tried to think up various inoffensive ways to say no.  But her brain went off-line at the first b-r-r-i-n-g.  I’ll just say I had a long day and I’m too tired.

            Jace, still in Charlotte, looked at his phone’s display as the name, Urbane, lit up the small rectangular window.  “Hello, Remy.  What time shall I pick you up?”  Waiting, he held his breath, closed his eyes, crossed his fingers.

            As she hung up, Remy looked at the receiver in disbelief.  Instead of the polite “no” she’d planned, she’d found herself saying “yes” and asking about the dress code.  I believe he must have some kind of spell on my ass.  Though, she knew casting spells wasn’t one of their powers.

            The journalist stared at his computer screen, unfazed by the actions of his screensaver.  His hands lay atop his gel-filled wrist rest.  And though he sat at his desk at NewsNow, his thoughts were elsewhere.  Last night’s dream held him tight in its tentacles.

As if he were back in his bed, back in the dream, he heard the narrator’s voice in his head.  “We take our safety and our security quite seriously.  So, there are Auralites whose job it is to protect the island, to shield its very existence.”

They were on the move again, traveling across the land close enough for the journalist to identify several buildings:  The Island Town Hall, The Island School, and The Island Theater.  In the end, they hovered above a small building at each corner of the island before coming back to their starting point.  His curiosity soared as they traveled, his mind abuzz with questions.  Chief among them was why those four buildings had been emphasized.

Again, the narrator spoke as if he had searched the journalist’s mind and had found his questions.  “The buildings are where our most valued employees work.  They are our most highly paid and ironically, they work the shortest time, just four hours a day, four days a week.  The work they do is very hard on them, draining their strength and leaving them weak for hours afterward.  They are our “veilers” and they use their powers to hide our island from prying eyes, from those who might harm us.  Their veils are cast from each corner of the island and form a protective cocoon around The Island and its surrounding waters.”

The journalist was high enough to see each corner of the island, and although his concentration was so intense his head began to hurt, he saw no sign of a veil flowing from any of them.  And when he looked up, he saw stars shining brightly in the night sky.  But he did remember the sensation of breaking through some kind of barrier earlier.

            “The veil is transparent on this side, but dark as night on the other.”

            “Hey…hey, man.”

            The journalist jerked back to the present, raising his gaze from the monitor to the coworker standing in his door.  In the split second before he responded, he wondered about the dream, about its reality.  It couldn’t have been real, though it had certainly seemed so.  Maybe he needed to start the shrink visits again.

            Jace caught Remy’s elbow with gentle fingers as they exited the hotel elevator.  Goose bumps sprang to life on her arms when she felt his skin on hers.  Once again, his touch produced many unwelcome physical reactions: a supercharged pulse, a slight lightheadedness, and a many-pronged heat that rose through her body.  Ohmigod!  She threw him a look of askance while trying to regain ownership of her arm.

Jace felt her attempt to free herself as they walked towards Pandora’s party.  Not tonight, baby girl.  He grinned, giving her a slow wink. 

The ballroom’s entrance was crowded with nattily dressed humans: men in suits of all colors, women in semi-formal attire.  So impressed with her surroundings, Remy forgot her need to disengage her arm.  It was all she could do to keep her mouth from gaping as he led her more deeply into the room.

Corner-to-corner, floor-to-ceiling, her eyes roamed the area.  A mirrored wall at one end of the room reflected the startling beauty of the red and white décor.   As her gaze continued its visual journey, it seemed that red and white were the colors of the evening.  Red and white streamers, arranged in various shapes, hung from a ceiling she knew soared at least two hundred feet skyward—well, maybe not quite that high.

Thousands of small bunches of red and white balloons floating above their heads, moving to their own rhythm, created an incredible air of festivity.  One particularly rambunctious bunch came prancing within Remy’s reach.  It was twisting and twirling, showing itself off, when she snagged it for closer inspection.  Pandora’s smiling image, encircled by the phrase “Happy Birthday,” embellished each balloon in the bunch.  As she released it, her gaze found its way back to Jace and all she could do was mouth, “Wow!”

            They moved deeper, still, into the red and white wonderland, before a sudden shriek rent the air, bringing them to an abrupt halt.  Remy turned and recognized Pandora bounding towards them, her arms thrown wide for the exuberant hug she gave Jace. 

Holding Jace at arms’ length after she’d finally released him, Pandora gave him a good once over.  She smiled, her approval apparent.  Pointing at Remy, she asked, “And who is this gorgeous creature?”

Pandora grabbed Remy’s hand while Jace introduced them, immediately making her feel welcome.  Remy was listening to them chat, occasionally adding a word or two, when Pandora began waving wildly, beckoning to a man, subsequently introduced as her husband.  He seemed just as pleased to see Jace and was just as welcoming to Remy, though Remy picked up on the questioning glance he exchanged with his wife.

While the men talked, Remy told Pandora how much she enjoyed her novels, and she was fairly positive she did so without sounding like a babbling idiot.  And when Pandora complimented her dress, her words filled Remy with a sense of glowing satisfaction.  Jace, apparently listening, jumped right in, mentioning Urbane.

Before long, they wished Pandora a happy birthday and continued wending their way through the wonderland in search of a table.

            A minute later, a white jar candle anchored the red tablecloth covering the small oval table between them.

            Jace picked up the lighter next to the candle.  “Shall I light it?”

            “Um-huh,” Remy responded, while nodding and leaning forward to take a sniff of the candle.  “I love these.  They always smell so good.”

            As he lit the candle, Remy continued to peruse the ballroom. 

Only when she breathed a relieved sigh did Remy realize she’d been holding her breath while scouting the room for other Auralites.  Finding none, she relaxed and turned back to the table as Jace said to her, “You look so…good.”

“Well, thank you.”  She managed to tell him that he did, too, before dropping her gaze from his to the candle, as if reading the jar’s writing was her life’s work.  His compliment made her smile, even while his staring made her nervous.  She could feel his eyes on her, and finally, after what seemed like hours, she felt his gaze retreat.  Through her lashes, she saw him look from the buffet tables to the bar.

“Would you like some punch or maybe a drink?”

Remy raised her head and her brows before responding, “I’ll have some punch, thanks.”

The silent question asked by her raised eyebrows was one of concern for their bodies’ intolerance of any mind-altering substance.  Alcohol and drugs affected aurals just as they did humans with one extra, disastrous effect: the weakening of their powers.  No, the drug didn’t actually weaken the powers, but just as it interfered with memory and motor skills, it interfered with their ability to wield their powers.  Remy didn’t even know anyone who imbibed.

Jace rose, glad Remy’s expression had asked the silent question.  Unlike her, he couldn’t claim ignorance of drinking.  It had almost destroyed his family, his sanity.  Pulling his straying thoughts from those depressing memories, he returned to the table with two glasses.

Remy took a sip from her glass.  “Pandora seems really nice.  You didn’t mention you knew her so well.”

“Yeah, she’s great.  I met her at my first writer’s conference.  She’s been a big help and a good friend.”

“I saw that look pass between her and her husband.  I got the feeling it was about you or me.”

“What look?”

Remy couldn’t believe he was feigning innocence.  “Oh please, you saw that look.”

Laughing, he said, “I’m sure it was because they were surprised I brought somebody other than Darius.”

“Who’s Dar—?”

“He’s my best friend…since we were kids.”

“Oh, okay…cool.  But, I know you have no problems getting the women.”

Face alight at her compliment, he said, “Ah man, I don’t know ‘bout that.”

“Um-huh, you know.  So, what’s up with bringing Darius?”

“I got divorced some years back and I’ve just been kinda…I don’t know…uninterested,” he said, shrugging.  “Cautious…you know.”

“Oh, I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you and your wife.  Any kids?”

“Nah, no kids.  What about you?  I can’t believe you’re not hooked up?”

“No, not right now.  No kids, but I was married, too, a long time ago.  My husband was killed.  I’ve been in a few relationships since then, but they didn’t work out.  So, here I am.”

Jace hesitated before speaking, his hand sliding up the side of his head where his finger wrapped itself around a loc and twisted.  “What happened to your husband?”

Squaring her shoulders and looking him in the eye, Remy responded, “He was killed off-island…a victim of under-developed psychic skills.  He was at work…some type of freak accident…an explosion…and then…he was dead.”

Jace reached out, taking her hand in his while maintaining eye contact.  “Remy, I am so sorry that happened to him…and to you.”

She’d seen him hesitate, but figured he’d deduced what happened and wouldn’t ask.  Most blue Auralites in his position wouldn’t have, and she respected him for dealing with unpleasantness straight-up.  Sensing his sincerity, her shoulders relaxed as she withdrew her hand.  “Thanks.”

A short silence ensued before Remy brought the conversation back to the present.  “So, Darius usually comes with you to these things?  He must not be married, or else he has a very understanding wife.”

“Nah, he’s not married, but he’s been talking to this woman, Lanie, for a while.  I guess about three years now.  I think he’s getting close to marriage, though.  She’s nice.  Oh, that’s my song!  Wanna dance?”

“Step in the Name of Love” by R. Kelly blasted from the speakers as Jace led Remy to the dance floor, her hand in his.  She was already moving to the strong bass line, head bobbing and fingers snapping by the time she got there, as this was one of her favorite jams, too.  Her eyes closed of their own will as the music took control of her senses.

Riveted by the fluidity, the sensuality of Remy’s movements, Jace found himself barely moving, unable to take his eyes off her.  Watching her, his mind took a decidedly erotic turn.  Oh man, if she moves like this on the dance floor, I just know she’ll be…oh shit, he thought, giving his head a slight shake, gotta stop thinking like that.  He forced himself to look away from her when he felt his Johnson readying itself for a full frontal assault.

Old school was in the house as the band broke into James Brown’s “The Big Payback.”  Suddenly, the floor filled with middle-aged humans trying to recapture their youth, bumping and double-bumping their butts off.  Jace and Remy looked at one another, laughed, and joined in.

While looking at the sea of gyrating and hip-bumping bodies, Remy realized she was having a great time with Jace.  She gave him an appreciative glance, a slight smile grazing her lips, though she still couldn’t believe she had accepted his invite.

Jace returned Remy’s smile.  I sure hope the next song is a slow jam so I can wrap her up and get my slow-drag on.  He nodded at the next song’s slow beat.  All right!  A budding smile died mid-bloom with Remy’s reaction to the slower beat.

She waved her hand at Jace’s big question mark of a face as she turned and started walking towards the table, bobbing and weaving through the crowd.  I know he don’t think I’m slow-dragging with his ass.  Remy looked behind her to see him following her.  She smiled to herself, wanting to tell him, You might as well wipe that disappointment off your face, cause it ain’t happening up in here for you!

Jace pulled out her chair while asking, “You want some more punch?”

“Um-huh, thanks,” Remy responded, using a napkin to dab at the sweat beaded on her nose.

As she watched him walk towards the punch, she thought about Kara and Dani.  She tried to contain her rising grin.  I know they’re wondering where I am tonight.  They are gonna freak!

Glancing at the dance floor, Remy saw Pandora and her husband doing their thing.  Her gaze roaming the room, she spotted Jace in conversation with a couple of women.  He broke away from them, but before he could take five steps toward the table, some guy he seemed pretty happy to see greeted him.  Damn, is he Mr. Popularity or what?  I could die of thirst waiting on him.

Just as she was considering going to get her own punch, she heard a female voice say Jace’s name followed by what sounded like a remark about her.  The voice’s volume shifted up and down, barely audible through the cacophony in the room.

Remy scanned her surroundings, searching for the source.  Bit by bit, she zeroed in on the voice’s unique vibrations, its unique tone.  The voice spoke again.  Remy’s eyes were drawn to the woman speaking.  She recognized the woman as one of the two she’d seen talking with Jace a moment ago.  But now, the woman sat a couple of tables down from her.  So, Remy raised the power of her hearing, bringing their conversation into the foreground while lowering any and all background noises—the music, other voices, clinking silverware, everything—until the women’s voices were as clear as if they were sitting next to her.

The women were both African-American humans.  One wore a black dress; the other was in lime green.  Lime green was the one who had gotten Remy’s attention.  She was the one speaking now.

“I don’t know why he gotta be with her.  He’s way too fine for her.”

Black dress waved her hand at her companion, saying, “Oh, you’re just pissed cause he politely, and I repeat, politely, sent your ass on your way.  Ain’t nothing wrong with that woman.”

“Girl, get real!  Look at that hair!  I guess it’s supposed to be sophisticated…the way she got it all twisted on top of her head.  But it just looks nappy to me.  All them damn dreadlocks.  Humph.”

Remy saw them looking at her as they talked cash-trash.  I think I’ll really give them something to talk about…naw…oh, what the hell?  She kept her smirk undercover as she patted her hair with one hand while outlining the upsweep with the other.

Black dress chuckled.  “Yeah, it is nappy, but isn’t that the point?  I think it looks pretty good.”

Sucking her teeth, lime green continued, “I know you’re joking with me.”  She cast another look Remy’s way.  “And what’s up with that dress?  The color’s all right, but I ain’t never seen nothing look like that.  It’s—”

“Okay, okay.  Hold up.   I know you pissed ‘cause he wouldn’t give your ass no play, but that damn dress is bad.  You can roll your eyes at me all you want, but I can’t go there with you.”

Remy grinned, giving up her straight face, while her hands highlighted the neckline, waistline, and hemline of her dress.  She paused and then pointed at the bodice, using both hands as if she were modeling for the two of them.

Lime green hesitated before continuing her harangue.  “And did you see how she was dancing, all slutty and shit?  I guess if I was him, I’d—”

Lime green’s next words seemed stuck in her mouth as Remy moved to the beat where she sat, winking and waving to them.  Their confused looks were priceless.

“What the hell?  I know she can’t hear us?”  Lime green grabbed black dress’s hand as their confusion began the short trip towards fear.

“I’m sorry it took me so…what are you up to?”

Remy looked up to find Jace standing at her side, carrying two glasses of punch.  She hung her head as unabashed laughter bubbled from her.  By the time she’d gathered herself, her punch sat in front of her and Jace had taken his seat.

“Well, you could say I’ve been a little bad, just a little.”  She held up her hand, her thumb and forefinger a bit apart, while laughter poured from her.

“The minute I noticed your aura had intensified, I knew you were up to something.  What’d you do?”  Jace grinned, in spite of his narrowed eyes and wrinkled forehead.

“I really wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.  I heard your name and then I heard someone say something about me.  So, I searched for the conversation and then I listened.”  She picked up her glass, took a big gulp, and planned on letting it end there.

“Naw, girl, I saw that…move you did.  I can’t let you end it there.”

His words startled her, causing the punch to lose its way.  It dribbled down her windpipe creating a paroxysm of coughing, eye-watering, and hand-waving.

Once the possibility of asphyxiation had passed, Remy giggled.  “Well, lime green was talking so much junk about me, I decided to have some fun with them.”

“Such as?”  Jace leaned back in his chair with a bemused expression.

“Well, I guess you could say that I acknowledged everything they said about me.”  Her hand hit the tabletop a couple of times as laughter bubbled up again.  “I was kind of discreet in the beginning, but when she said I danced like a slut…I couldn’t help myself.  I had to do it!  I just had to!”

“You know, you’re something else.  I do like that in you.”  Jace laughed with Remy as they glanced at the empty table where the women once sat.

“So, Remy, do you eavesdrop on humans often?”

“No, I figure they deserve their privacy.  Unless, I hear one of them talking about me…like your girls over there,” she said, inclining her head toward the empty table where lime green and black dress had been sitting.

Jace chuckled.  “My girls.  Riiiight.  But yeah, I know what you mean about the eavesdropping.  Besides, the energy and concentration required…it’s too much for just idle listening.”

They continued to enjoy one another’s company as the night slipped toward the twilight hours: talking, laughing, dancing.  At evening’s end, they bade goodbye to Pandora and her husband before entering one of the vacant elevators.  Remy took Jace’s outstretched hand, thus, becoming a part of his realm.  When the elevator arrived at the next floor, the doors opened to reveal an empty car.

Reappearing outside Remy’s on-island home, Jace lifted the hand he still held to his lips and planted the gentlest kiss there.

As an electric spark raced up her arm, Remy snatched her hand from his and whirled to open her door.  She glanced over her shoulder as she entered the house.  I have got to stay away from him.  With a stingy smile, she said, “Goodnight, Jace.”