Southern Heat (2 page)

He’d gone off to talk to some gentleman there, and I’d been surrounded by a group of my girlfriends like flies on a carcass, before he’d even cleared the door.

They were all teasing me about my swamp man and such, and instead of getting mad, which I was about to, I kinds sorta joined in the fun.

Even though I felt horrible afterward, because of everyone there, I was the one who had seen the refined side of him.

I knew that he was nothing like that, but how do you tell a roomful of your friends that had the same ideas you once had, that they were all wrong?

It would take time, and I set my mind to changing all their opinions in time. Besides, I liked the way it felt when he ran his finger down my arm, or at night after one of our dates when he would kiss me on the cheek and I would wish that he’d move a little to the right and get my lips.

He was certainly growing on me. But after that night, something changed, and I sensed it from the moment he took me home and didn’t even bother with the kiss on my cheek. Instead he’d just sped out of the circular driveway and was gone. 

He hadn’t called or anything; just upped and left. I was more bothered than I wanted to admit, and I promised myself the next time I saw that good ole boy I was going to put him in his place.

The next time I saw him a week later, that’s when he made up my mind for me once and for all. Even if I had been considering it for my daddy’s sake, of course the things he had to say that night put paid to that little notion.

I threw myself across my bed, and prepared to wait her out. Hopefully she’d come to her senses soon, because there’s nothing I hate more than being idle.

I let my mind drift back to that last confrontation. I had nothing better to do, since mama had lost her cotton-picking mind, and locked me in my room like a misbehaved toddler.

The memory of his face always gives me pause for a second or two. Maybe that’s why I try not to think about him too much.

How could someone so gorgeous be so dense? And why had providence deemed it fit to have such a fine specimen, born in the back-wood Louisiana swamp country? It beggars belief is what it does.

That last evening though, that really did take the cake. He hadn’t even apologized for his rudeness the night of the social.

Now there I was, expecting not only an apology, but maybe some sort of boon as well, or even a bauble of some sort; to assuage my hurt feelings.

After all, all my past beaux knew that’s how you treated a lady of a genteel upbringing. Not this mister, he came empty handed, and from the nonsense he spewed out of his mouth, I’m thinking empty headed as well. The hick.

I can still hear those words ringing through my head even now, the nerve…

“Good evening Ms. Emily, you look lovely as usual.”

“Good evening Jethro.” I did it to be contrary yes. I’d learned that he hated that name as much as I did, and decided to show my displeasure at this whole arrangement, my niggling him.

“It’s Jet Emily. Why don’t you come sit here next to me so that we may talk?”

“I’m just fine where I am thank you very much, but you go ahead on and talk.” I was already put out that he hadn’t offered me so much as a flower, no token of any kind.

And mama thinks I’m gonna marry him. Why it would take me years to train him just right. If only I could take the face and the body, maybe I could tape his mouth shut…

I stood in front of the French windows that opened onto the side lawn. The garden lights made everything look so pretty, and the scent of roses permeated the air in the summer breeze.

With my arms folded
, I turned my back on him, and waited for him to say whatever he had to, so I could then turn him down easy.

My heart actually raced, but not in a good way, at the thought of not seeing him again. Don’t weaken Emily, unless you want to spend the rest of your living days out with the gators and bullfrogs.

You were not raised for that, you did not spend every summer since the age of eleven, taking care of your hair and skin, to now throw it all away for a life in the petrified forest. But maybe if he’d only just move…

“Do you mind looking at me while I speak to you?”

Geez what now? The guy is a real pain. I was here wasn’t I? I didn’t owe him anything, but here I’d consented to having this conversation.

It was going to be hard enough without him making things more difficult. I turned in his direction with a frown on my face. And he proceeded to tick me off no end.

“I understand your hesitancy in this matter, after all we don’t know each other as yet. We have three months before the wedding, that’s plenty time to get to know each other.

There’s going to be some rough spots in the beginning, while you get to know the way I like things done.”

Say what now? Is he mad?

“Excuse me, what does that mean?”

“No need to get all het up about it, all I’m saying is that you being raised here in the city, your way of doing things might be a little different.

I will expect you to be obedient first and foremost. Living out in the country it takes getting used to, so if I tell you not to do something, it’s for your own good and so I will expect your obedience in all things.”

Oh he was getting deeper and deeper into dark waters with this line of talk. Who does he think he is?

“I’m also very set in my ways, and it might be better for all involved if you just towed the line until we get used to each other.”

I didn’t even bother to answer this jackass; I just walked out of the room before I brained him with something.

Was he for real? He was like something out of a nineteen thirties horror film. I don’t know what rock he was living under for the past hundred years, but he was so stuck in the ice age. What an ass.

JET

I held my laughter in as long as I could, until she’d cleared the room. I knew very well what she thought of me; she couldn’t hide it.

I’d thought we’d moved past all
that, but then the night of the social, I’d overheard her and her girlfriends having fun at my expense.

Little did she know
, that she was looking at a Harvard business grad, top one percent. Her and her high and mighty ways needed cutting down a peg or two.

I knew she would react that way, and I had just the thing to handle her little ass. I did mean most of what I said; my family home is in a more remote part of the parish, and yes things are a little different out there.

It would be for her own safety to listen to my direction in the beginning, until she gets the lay of the land.

I could tell that she was a spoilt little girl, whose daddy let her get away with murder. As my wife, she wouldn’t have that kind of freedom, because I don’t believe in it.

I don’t cotton to all this new age crap. A woman is a delicate flower and needs to be treated as such. She might think she wants to do the same things as a man, but she’ll learn different.

I know she has a business degree from Loyola, I admire that about her, but as my wife she’ll have no need for such things.

All she’ll have to do is see after me, and whatever kids we might have and I’m hoping for plenty. I’m not the back-woods hick she thinks I am.

I just didn’t work my tail off so that my woman could work herself into the ground for someone else. If she wanted to start her own business, I was all for that.

But she wasn’t working outside the home. If that made me a goober in her eyes, well so be it. Her daddy had already signed on the dotted line.

When he’d first come to me for help, I had no idea if I was going to help him or not. But as time went by and I did my research, I found her.

One look at her and I was hooked. And if a picture alone could do that, I couldn’t imagine what seeing her in the flesh would mean.

It was better than I thought; she has a beauty that transcends time, a throwback to an earlier time, a better time.

A time when men courted women with poetry, and sat out on the front porch, while some old lady sat off in the corner making sure there was no hanky panky going on.

I guess I am old fashioned after all, in some ways. In this day of fast everything, I liked the idea of a sweet little southern belle in my home. It would be up to me to turn her into something else entirely in my bed. I can’t wait.

I wanted her the first moment I saw her, and that first night at dinner just sealed it for me. She was beautiful and sassy, my favorite combination.

I’m sure it was probably a chore for her that first night, to sit there, all prim and proper. But she couldn’t hide the daggers in her eyes when it became obvious that her parents were playing matchmaker.

I had a hard time containing myself all those nights we went out driving, but I was resolved not to treat her like just any woman, but like the woman I was going to take to wife.

I still had some old world values about me, though I’ve been around the block a time or two.

I just left after a word with her father, instead of making a fuss; there was no need. She was mine from the first moment I clamped eyes on her.

EMILY

That had been the last time I’d seen him. I thought I’d made my position very clear that night.

So why was mama trying to force the issue again? I know it couldn’t be because he still wanted me; I’d burned that bridge but good with my rudeness.

I’d had a few bad moments after that. The thought of never seeing him made me feel ill, but I squashed those feelings as soon as they reared their ugly little heads.

No way am I giving in, not unless I got some things my way; like a nice big place in the city. Maybe even New Orleans, the historic district has some lovely old mansions…

JET

I like women, I like sex; in fact I like lots of sex. And I could see myself spending plenty a long, hot night between her thighs. I’m not willing to overlook her penchant for being a brat though; that’s something we’ll have to work on.

I wouldn’t want to break her spirit by no means; I like that sassy mouth of hers. But she’d have to learn that as my wife, her first loyalty belongs to me.

Now her mom has called and said she’s refusing to marry me. What that little girl doesn’t know, is that Jet Durant doesn’t take no for an answer.

“Let me speak with your husband ma’am.” For what I have in mind, it was best to let the head of the house know what I was up to.

It was very unorthodox in this day and age, but back in the day, it’s the way the men in my family would’ve handled things.

I stayed on the phone five minutes with the old man, laying out my plans. Then I had some things to take care of on my end.

As CEO of my family’s oil business, I couldn’t just up and leave without making sure everything would be taken care of in my absence.

My family made it rich back at the turn of the century, when my great grandfather lit a match over some bubbles out in the field and they ignited.

It was one of the largest oilfields in the State to date. That first well produced for over fifty years, and is now what we call a seepage well, producing only twenty barrels a day.

But with our luck, we found another well on the north side of our land, that promised to do even better than the first, and with today’s technology, we stood to make even more billions.

It’s a well kept secret just how much we were actually worth. It was nobody’s business but our own after all; but the women who’ve married, or been born into the family over the generations, have branched off into other business arenas.

This is Louisiana after all, there was always something you could stick your name on and make it sell.

We have a food line, a spice line and a clothing line, all thought up by the women. My two little brothers were already married to some fine ladies, and had a few children under their belts already. I was the last holdout; after school I’d just not had time to see about finding me a suitable woman.

I didn’t only run the company I liked to have a hand in every aspect of the business. That’s why I’d been working on the rigs since I was sixteen years old.

If it had anything to do with oil wells, I knew how to do it. You need a wildcatter I’m your man, roughneck?  You’ve got it.

There isn’t anything I haven’t done out in those fields. The press says I have oil running through my veins instead of blood.

But I wanted to spread my wings wider; my next project is a hotel chain, that’s where my head is at.

We’ve already got the housing development and construction business here and in Beaumont, and we’ve pretty much cornered the market on everything else.

The only thing my family hasn’t tried in the last hundred and ten years is hotels; that’s going to be my mark.

Now that I’ve got that squared away in my mind, I can go ahead and get married. I’m bringing something new to the table, not just riding on my family’s coattails, as a man, that’s very important to me. I’ve found the filly, now I just have to go rope her in. Yee haw.