CHAPTER SIX
Jersey
I owe Franklin Alexander. When Banshee folded, it was Franklin that encouraged me to go solo. He got me a manager and pointed me in the direction of some reliable contract players. With a handful of new songs, and his encouragement and PR mojo, I made my solo debut. So despite the hassle with security, the groupies and paparazzi, I decide to visit him after our little meeting with Ms. Take Charge.
The last time I saw Jacine Alexander was at a pool party of her father’s mansion. She had just come home from college with a brand spanking new MBA, hence the shindig, and the excuse for Franklin to gather some of his biggest clients, one of them being my father, to celebrate his daughter’s milestone. Franklin strutted through that party as if he earned that degree himself. But the big secret is that Franklin, despite his veneer of education and culture didn’t make it past the eleventh grade. Only a precious few knew this, one of them being my father, one of Franklin’s first clients.
In my very early twenties, I thought that Franklin was too “old” to handle the PR of a band of twenty-somethings, but I was wrong. In a town where your career could turn on the spread of a coke line, Franklin knew the right people to jingle, what buzz to spread. So when Jacine suggested her cheesy “battle of the bands” idea, I accepted it without question. She was at least as smart as her father, perhaps even more so. With her savvy looks and connections she could turn a fast food worker into an overnight sensation.
I wasn’t prepared for what I saw in at the hospital though. First, the room was practically a jungle of floral arrangements of all shapes and sizes. But the bed and its occupant took center stage. Franklin, tied to tubes and monitors, and wearing a hospital gown, appeared old and worn out. It was a shock, and I had to take a step back and collect my thoughts before I entered. But when I did it was with the biggest smile I could pluck from my crippled heart.
“Mr. Alexander, leave to it you to find the trendiest spas in LA.”
“Dys, you dog. What the hell are you doing here?” His voice was thin and dry. When he coughed I poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the side table and handed it to him.
“Checking up on you, since you have your daughter working like a slave.”
Franklin scoffed. “Like I could stop her. The first thing she did was run out of here to take over my office.”
“It’s your own fault she’s exactly like you.”
“Yeah.”
“When are you getting sprung?”
“Probably tomorrow or the next day. They are still doing tests.”
“Oh? Anything serious?”
“More like they can’t find anything wrong and are running up the bill. I’ll be fine. And the sooner I’m out of here, the sooner I can get to work.”
“Over my dead body.”
The now familiar voice came from the doorway, where Jacine stood. Her red lips pursed in scathing disapproval. She strode toward his face and kissed him on the cheek.
“You’ve been up to mischief, haven’t you?”
“Oh,” she said with a wry smile. “I only spent a million or two.”
“In six hours? You’re slipping.”
“New York makes you aware of costs.”
“Tell me about it. The financial damage of your apartment is more than our house.”
“Ssh, you. How are you feeling?”
“Annoyed. Bored. I want to get out of here.”
“I’ll see if I can find a nice nurse to give you a medicinal massage.”
He cracked a lopsided smile. “You are kind and evil at the same time. Go. Get an old man something worthwhile to drink. I’m tired of water.”
“Sorry, sir. We can’t order off the menu.”
“What? Your father can’t get a cup of coffee?”
“I see what this fine establishment has on tap. Be right back.”
With fluid grace, Jacine walked toward the nurse’s station.
“Damn,” sputtered Franklin. “She’s asking the nurses.”
“And that’s bad?”
“Coffee is on the forbidden list for now.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. The damned nutritionist visited this morning and gave me a list of foods I can and can’t eat during my so-called recovery.”
“Care to share?”
“You don’t want to know. Anything with flavor.”
“Sounds rough.”
“My own fault,” he said. “And it makes a man think, too, about mistakes.”
“We all have regrets.”
“Yes, but I may have made a big one with Jacine.”
“How’s that?”
“I pushed her too hard, instilled this stupid work ethic in her. She doesn’t have any fun. Doesn’t see anyone outside of work.”
“Oh?”
“What happens in twenty years when she’s put all of herself into the business and none into her personal life?”
“And there’s no little Alexanders to keep grandpa busy?”
He stared at me with surprise like I wouldn’t understand.
“My own pops been pushing me to marry. I’m not stupid. It’s not because he wants a daughter-in-law.”
“Yeah. Well, he’d have to haul his ass from Spain to enjoy a grandkid.”
“He might make the trip.”
“I’m going to ask you for a favor. I know you’re not the type of guy to settle down.”
“Wait? Are you asking me to marry you?”
“Shut up and listen. I want you to take Jacine out. Show her a good time. Let her start thinking about meeting someone.”
“You want me to act as a teaser stallion to your daughter to get her to date?” I could not believe this.
“Don’t make it sound awful. Show her a good time.”
“A good time, as in—”
He raised his hand. “I don’t need to know the details. And it doesn’t have to be anything serious. Jacine’s smart enough to know when someone is a keeper or not.”
“Wow. Way to compliment someone into a favor.”
“Damn it, Dys. Don’t tell me you aren’t too much into your own work to get serious about someone because in ten years I haven’t seen it.”
That is very true. I worked like a dog. But here’s the thing. I’ve wanted to date Jacine Alexander since the first time I saw her. And, I was young and wasn't sure what I wanted except for a good time. But the day at that pool party to celebrate her graduation, I suddenly knew I wanted Jacine Alexander.
Her bikini-clad form had played a prominent role in my sex fantasies for some years. If I didn’t have such full-on respect for Franklin Alexander, I would have asked her out. But among the things my father taught me was that you don’t mix business with pleasure.
And now the man gave me permission to date her? No. He asked me to date her. As a favor.
Should I pinch myself or slap myself in the face to see if I’m awake?
“Okay, big talker,” said Jacine as she entered the room again. “Apparently you have a huge list of dietary restrictions for the time being, so no coffee for you.”
“Busted,” I said quietly.
Franklin shot me a scorching glance.
“I can’t wait to get out of here so people won’t tell me what to do.”
A knock on the door turned all heads toward it and, and the doctor walked in. He was tall, blond and looked anything but a doctor, but hey, this was LA. Tinseltown and Starland didn’t always serve up what you’d expect.
“Hello, I’m Doctor Jones, a resident in Coronary Medicine. Dr. Alcord asked me to come speak to you about the test results.”
“I should go,” I said.
“No, Jersey. Stay,” said Franklin. “This shouldn’t take long, will it? I’m fine, and I can go home.”
“No, actually, Mr. Alexander, we want to keep you here longer. We found a blockage in one of your arteries, and we want to fix that up.”
“A blockage?” said Jacine. Her face turned white.
“And you are?”
“His daughter.”
“The blockage is what caused the coronary incident. It’s not a total block, but I’m sure that Mr. Alexander, has been suffering from some shortness of breath.”
“Dad?” said Jacine.
“So I get a little winded.”
“At your age, Mr. Alexander, you shouldn’t put off seeing the doctor. As you found out, a little thing can have big consequences.”
Franklin scowled at the scolding he received from a man half his age.
“What does it involve?”
“It’s not a difficult procedure. We use a stent that we insert through the groin and place them at the site of the occlusion to open up the blockage. It’s a non-surgical procedure with fewer complications than open heart surgery. He’ll be able to go home the next day.”
“I’m sitting right here,” said Franklin. The acid in his voice was enough to peel paint off the wall.
“Sorry, Mr. Franklin. In any case, we are setting up the procedure for tomorrow. If all goes well, we’ll release you soon.”
“Wait? Don’t I get a say in this?” grumbled Franklin.
“No,” said Jacine. “I’m not having my father drop dead of a heart attack because he wants a cup of coffee. If my father gives you a hard time about signing documents, call me.” She pulled out a business card and handed it to the doctor. “I’ll have my father’s lawyer, who has power-of-attorney sign off on them.”
“Traitor,” snapped Franklin.
“Thank you, Miss Alexander.” He handed her a card. "If you have any questions, please feel free to call.”
“Thank you, doctor.”
He left as a woman in dark blue scrubs knocked on the door. “I’ve brought dinner for Mr. Franklin.”
“I didn’t order that,” growled Franklin.
“No,” said Jacine. “I did. You’ve been giving the nurses a hard time about eating. Oh, I got an earful about you at the desk, and if you keep being bad, I’m going to hire a nurse to follow you around the house during your recovery.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Yes. I will. Franklin and Wells have some big clients to care for, and I don’t want you alone in that big house.”
“Ugh.” The nurse placed the tray in front of the patient.
“What is this?” he said.
“A nice Caesar Chicken Salad,” said Jacine.
“There is nothing nice about this. Look at it. This is an appetizer, not dinner.”
I sympathized with Franklin. Used to being in charge, having his daughter run herd on him must annoy him.
“I’m tired,” he complained. “Come back later. I’m going to take a nap.”
“Dad!”
“What? Like half-wilted lettuce and overcooked chicken will go bad? Dys, get my daughter out of here. Take her to dinner or something.”
Jacine sighed and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.
“I’ll be back later.”
She walked out of the room, but before I could follow her, he grabbed my arm.
“Keep her busy, Dys.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”