But Terri’s bad taste had put Jas in the right place at the right time to meet that fine and protective Black knight. She doubted she’d see him again, but it was the best meet-cute she’d ever had. Sighing like a contented romance heroine, she turned off her small nightstand lamp and settled in to sleep. Maybe he’d visit her in her dreams.
CHAPTER TWO
When Jasmine opened CODEX three years ago, her strip mall neighbors had been a dollar store, a shrimp takeout place, a nail salon, and three empty storefronts sporting FOR LEASE signs on their plywood-covered windows. Eighteen months later, a new landlord arrived, and gentrification followed. The dollar store turned into a coffee shop, the shrimp takeout place became a national chain drugstore, and the nail salon was now a bicycle repair shop owned by two twentysomethings from the suburbs. Jas was pleased the new landlord hadn’t raised the rent, and that her morning coffee was now only a short two-door walk away.
She stepped into her small office with its wall of books, set her coffee on the desk, and put her purse in the lower desk drawer. She always arrived before the business opened because she enjoyed beginning her day in the quiet hush of the interior while bands of sunbeams streamed through the big plate-glass windows. Seated, she sipped and scanned the items on the day’s calendar. As she’d explained to Wayman Childs, CODEX was a book provider. The service initially began as a way to help Terri, who loved to read but, due to concert dates and studio recording sessions, had no time to visit bookstores or scroll through online vendors for something new and interesting. Jas, working at a small neighborhood library back then, had put together a cache of books that represented Terri’s faves in both genre fiction and nonfiction and given it to her. It became an ongoing thing. At one point, Terri insisted on paying for the service, which Jas, of course, refused. So Terri, being Terri, wrote the check out to Jasmine’s mom, who transferred the amount into Jas’s bank account. Terri also began quietly spreading the word about the book service to her reading friends and acquaintances. By the end of the year, Jas was making twice what she was being paid by the city as a reference librarian. As the client base expanded, her lawyer sister, Ceylon, encouraged her to turn the side hustle into a legitimate business. So she did. Ceylon handled all the paperwork, and CODEX was born. Jas couldn’t be happier with the decision. She was working for herself yet still providing books for people to enjoy, something she’d always loved to do.
On the day’s calendar was a visit with a new client referred to her by one of her contractors, carpenter Kelvin Noble. The client was one of his brothers, who’d recently purchased a home in an elite neighborhood on the Detroit River. According to Kel, his brother needed help securing rare books for his library.
Also on the day’s agenda was a visit with one of her book vendors, Elliot Vernon. His social worker wife, Loretta, and Jas’s mom had been friends since high school. They also attended the same church, so Jas had known the couple most of her life. When she first began working as a librarian, Elliot’d been the chief archivist of the city’s historical collection and running B & V Acquisitions and Appraisals on the side with his buddy Otis Boyd. Now in their midsixties, the Vernons, whom she and her sisters called Aunt Loretta and Uncle Elliot, were retired, but Elliot still had a nose for tracking down the unique treasures she sometimes needed.
He’d called last week to say he’d found the first editions she’d been after for another client, but his partner, Mr. Boyd, had recently been killed, and she wasn’t sure if their appointment was still on.
“Morning, Jas.”
Jasmine glanced up and smiled at Simone Crenshaw standing in the doorway. “Morning, Simone. How are you?” The petite, brown-skinned thirtysomething was Jasmine’s administrative assistant.
“Doing good. How was the date?”
Jasmine scowled.
“That bad?”
“Worse. If Terri ever offers to hook you up, run away like your thong’s on fire.”
Simone chuckled. “Noted.”
“How’s your mom?”
“Cranky. Not being able to drive or move around like she’s used to is making her growl like a cat in a cage.”
At the recent Crenshaw family reunion, Simone’s fiftysomething mom had set out to prove she was still a double Dutch champ. It hadn’t gone well. She’d broken an ankle and cracked a kneecap. She’d been in the cast only a week but was giving the family so much grief, Simone, her younger sister, and their dad were all threatening to run away from home.
“I hope she settles down,” Jasmine said.
“So do we.”
Simone left Jasmine to begin her day, and Jasmine called Uncle Elliot. His voice mail kicked in, so she left a message asking him to call or text back. That done, she booted up her computer to check her mail. At the top of the queue was a request from a client, an NBA baller on the West Coast. He was into cartography, the older the map the better, and a joy to work with. His email request was for his girlfriend, who wanted one hundred books—all red—for her Instagram account. Jasmine shook her head at the idea. The message went on to say subject matter or genre didn’t matter as long as the books’ covers were red. Jasmine wasn’t a fan of people who didn’t read the books she provided, and the girlfriend seemed to be in that camp. However, Jas was a business owner, and her job was to serve her clients, not to judge. Plus, she liked the baller and didn’t want to alienate him by declining the request. With all that in mind, she replied to his email with a price for her service, a tentative shipping date, and then shot a text to Catera “Cat” Freeman, one of her freelance book shoppers.
Catera texted back, 100? ALL RED?!
Yes. Need a week from today. Client not worried about cost.
*sigh* OK.
Knowing Cat would come through, Jasmine moved on to her next task.
Her appointment with the new client was at ten thirty. The house was a short distance away, so a few minutes after ten, she gathered her belongings. “I’m going to meet up with Kel’s brother. Hope to be back in an hour or so,” Jas said to Simone, passing by her desk as she headed to the door.
“Wonder if he’s a nerdy cutie like Kel?”
The carpenter fit the description of nerdy cutie to a T. “I’ll give you a full report when I get back.”
Guided by her GPS, Jasmine pulled into the private riverfront enclave and slowly drove by the mix of historic and newly constructed homes until she found the address she was after. The place, made of lovely tan-colored brick, appeared to be one of the new homes. After taking a moment to change out of her driving shoes—a pair of high-top Chucks—and into the dark-emerald stilettos that matched her suit, she stepped out of her sleek midnight-blue Mustang. The scent of the river wafted to her nose, and the sights of Belle Isle and Windsor, Ontario, on the river’s far side filled her view. Once on the porch, she pressed the doorbell panel and ran appreciative eyes over the door’s beautiful blown glass center panel, which featured a stylized blue waterfall. A moment later, it opened and she was greeted by an ebony-skinned young woman dressed in slim-fitting black jeans and a deep-indigo silk blouse.
“May I help you?”
“I’m Jasmine Ware. I have an appointment with Mr. Noble.”