CHAPTER 10
TAYLOR
“This place is breathtaking. It’s like something out of the movies,” Taylor marveled as they walked up to the grand southern house located in the center of the massive plantation.
According to historical accounts, the Roux family members were descendants of the slaves that once worked the vast land.
For them, to have accumulated the land was an impressive accomplishment.
“It is beautiful,” Victor agreed.
He caught her wrist, halting her steps. Taylor turned and looked up at him.
“Not as beautiful as you. There is no comparison.”
Taylor smiled and caressed his chiseled jaw. “It’s amazing how, after all this time, your flattery still warms my cheeks.”
Victor gazed down at her with a mischievous grin. “The way you’re looking in this dress, I’m inspired to warm more than your cheeks.”
Taylor giggled bashfully and dropped her head as if she were on a first date. It was as if the handsome man that was shamelessly flirting with her wasn’t her husband of years and the father of their little girl. Every time he looked at her, it was as if their love affair was fresh and new.
Victor cupped her jaw and ran his thumb along her cheek. After a sweet kiss to her forehead, he whispered, “Let’s go make this money, Baby.”
He slid his hand around her waist and planted his hand on the small of her back.
They ascended a few steps until they were standing in front of a massive set of doors.
Before they could knock, the doors opened.
On the other side were Enola Roux and Gideon Toussaint, her handsome husband.
The gorgeous couple was flanked by two members of Victor’s security detail.
They must have broken off from the team in order to ensure the safety of the Roux Plantation.
“Welcome to our home,” Enola Roux greeted with a warm, sincere smile.
“Thank you for having us,” Victor returned before kissing her cheek and shaking Gideon’s hand.
After Gideon greeted Taylor in the same manner, Enola stepped back and gestured toward a large, elegant foyer.
When they stepped inside, Taylor looked up at the massive crystal chandelier hanging from an extremely high ceiling.
The chandelier was centered between two long, winding staircases.
“Your home is exquisite,” Taylor complimented.
“Thank you,” Enola responded, linking her arm with Taylor’s. “Come, let’s get you a drink.”
Taylor happily allowed Enola to escort her through her magnificent home, out a set of patio doors, and into the twenty-thousand-dollar-a-head political fundraiser.
Enola led her around a large pool with floating illuminated lily pads and through a sea of magnificently dressed southerners.
“I’ll introduce you around once we get a drink in you. ”
Taylor looked over her shoulder to see if Victor was still behind them.
He wasn’t. He had been detained by a few of the partygoers.
He was in his element, surrounded by wealthy men.
He was a master at getting donors to part with their money.
Taylor smiled and returned her attention to Enola and her fully staffed bar with a large lake as its backdrop.
“Wow!” Taylor marveled in a whisper. “Your property is endless.”
Enola laughed. “My husband needs the room to run free.”
“A big kid, huh?”
“More like a wild animal,” Enola rebutted with a grin.
Taylor giggled. “I heard that.”
“I love this dress,” Enola complimented.
“Oh, thank you,” Taylor responded, thinking about the back and forth she’d had with the stylist about what to wear.
Samantha had tried to pair her black off-the-shoulder gown with white sandals.
Her new stylist needed to learn a little bit more about Taylor’s style or they were going to have to part ways.
Looking over at Enola in her haltered, champagne, beaded gown, Taylor guessed she didn’t have issues with her stylist. “I love your dress too, and your hair… stunning. I’ve been thinking about getting my hair loc’d. ”
Enola raised a brow. “Now, your man is running for president. He’s already married to a black woman with a dope-ass afro. Locs would be asking too much from White America.”
Taylor laughed. “Girl, tell me about it.”
Enola leaned closer. “But I’m guessing you being black might push him across the finish line.”
“That’s what his campaign seems to think, but this is still America. White people won’t be happy to see me on his arm, and black men are gonna be hash tagging my picture with “bed wench.”
“I hear that.” Enola sighed. “Imagine living in the south, marrying one of their richest, longtime bachelors. Let’s just say they were not pleased.”
Taylor looked over at Gideon and shook her head with a chuckle. “I’ll bet you don’t give fuck.”
“And don't!” Enola responded with a neck swivel. “Zero fucks!”
Together, they laughed with the fervor of two women who really understood each other.
“So, you were a cop?” Enola inquired. “I’m from Chicago too. I used to be a CPD dispatcher.”
Taylor’s eyes grew wide” Get outta here.”
Enola nodded. “Yep. I was the voice in your head.”
“What a coincidence. How did you end up in Louisiana?”
Enola shrugged. “Family shit. My grandmother died and I inherited her estate.”
Taylor looked around and smiled. “This is one-hell-of an estate.”
“Yes, but it's not without its drama.”
“What can I get you?” the young bartender interrupted.
Enola turned to Taylor. “You?”
“I’ll have a Moscow mule.”
“Jumping right in, huh?” Enola teased. “I’ll have a glass of sangria.”
The bartender smiled and tossed a towel over his shoulder. “Coming right up.”
“Hey, thanks for doing this. I normally hate these events, but you have made it a pleasure.”
Enola smiled. “The pleasure was ours. It’s really great to meet you, Taylor.”
Her smile fell before Taylor could respond. She turned to see what had changed her mood. It was the secret service, bum-rushing their little chat. “Mrs. Creed, please come with us. There’s been an incident.”
“But, I--”
“Ma’am, please,” one of the agents insisted.
Taylor turned to Enola with a regretful expression and mouthed, “I’m sorry,” before she was being whisked away.
Enola offered a sympathetic smile. “It’s okay. I hope everything’s okay.”
The agents rushed her through the yard of donors and through the patio doors. Victor was already inside. His worried expression erected the hairs on the back of her neck. “Victor, what’s happened?”
Victor gripped Taylor’s upper arms and looked down at her with a pained expression. “Lucas was shot.” ?
VICTOR
Victor held the hem of Taylor’s long dress as he climbed the airstair behind her.
Once they were on the plane, he yelled to the pilot that they needed to take off.
The co-pilot stepped out of the cockpit.
“Governor, the flight crew will be boarding in less than five minutes, and your luggage is being brought from the hotel.”
Victor took a deep breath but blew it out with frustration. “If the luggage is not here when the crew arrives, leave it.”
He looked to the rear of the plane where Gregor stood with two other Secret Service agents.
Out the window, he could see the crew hurrying toward the plane.
A car drove onto the tarmac and stopped alongside the plane.
The agents posted outside approached the vehicle with caution but relaxed when the doors flew open and Kena and Taylor’s new assistant stepped out.
When the trunk popped open, the ladies grabbed their carry-ons and climbed the airstairs.
Two members of the crew pulled the larger luggage from the trunk and rolled it around to the other side of the aircraft.
Victor sat next to Taylor. She was on the phone with Bella. Kena stepped into the cabin and handed him his briefcase. “What do you know?” she asked.
Victor sighed. “Not much. He’s in surgery, but my mom says it’s not looking good.”
Taylor sank into her seat with a grim expression, but Kena got to business. “Okay, why don’t the two of you get strapped in.” She turned to Gregor. “Get everyone on this plane secured in their seats and ready for takeoff.”
She then walked to the cockpit and addressed the cockpit crew. “Get the doors closed. We’re taking off now. Anyone who doesn’t make it aboard with be flying commercial.”
Without debate, the crew that was present flew into action. The doors were closed, the passengers were secured, and the plane was taxying down the runway.
Victor relaxed in his seat and clutched Taylor’s hand. With Kena at the helm, there was nothing left for him to do but pray for his brother.