Fancy Dancer Read Free

and, at least in terms of common sense, didn’t have squat to show for it. Life experience, my ass!
    Jake told himself not to be so hard on himself, because he’d done one good and serious thing. He’d become a consultant to his father’s competitors and been very successful. He’d also made the newspapers big-time. So much so that his father, to no avail, had tried to muzzle him. Everyone wanted a piece of Jake St. Cloud, even the Saudis. And the absolute best part of his consulting business, which to his mind was really a payback business, was that he’d made so much money he couldn’t count it all. He had only one rule, and that was never to work for St. Cloud Oil.
    Now, though, Jake knew he had to get his life back on track. And the thirty-fifth anniversary of his birth was the first day down that road. He poured a second cup of coffee and drank it standing up by the counter. He realized then that he felt halfway decent.
    When he finished the coffee, he put the cup in the dishwasher. For a full minute he debated whether he should turn on the dishwasher for just one cup. His mother’s words about cleanliness being next to godliness rang in his ears. He shrugged, dropped a soap pellet in the machine, and turned it on. He totally forgot his mother’s words about never leaving the house with an appliance running.
    He left the house and climbed into his sleek black Porsche and headed to his meeting with his mother’s lawyers. As he tooled along, Jake made a mental note to get rid of the fancy wheels and get himself a Dodge Ram pickup truck. And a dog to ride shotgun.
     
     
    The law firm of Symon and Symon was run by two brothers who had to be as old as Methuselah. They creaked when they walked, but they were razor-sharp when it came to the ins and outs of the law and safeguarding their clients’ businesses and assets. Somehow, some way—Jake couldn’t remember—he thought they were distant cousins of his mother. Elroy Symon and his brother, Estes Symon. Pillars of the community.
    Both greeted Jake in their three-piece suits. Pants, jacket, and vest, complete with watch fobs. They smiled and welcomed him like an old friend. Never mind that they hadn’t seen him in over ten years. They offered coffee and beignets, which Jake knew came from the Café Du Monde in New Orleans. He knew this because he remembered his mother’s telling him that the lawyers prided themselves on serving them fresh every day. He declined.
    “Then I guess it’s time to get down to business,” Estes said. Or maybe it was Elroy. Jake could never keep them straight. He wondered if they were twins. Funny how he didn’t know that.
    “You turn thirty-five today, Jacob. A milestone. How do you feel about it?” one of them asked.
    “I’m okay with it. Not much I can do about it, either way.”
    “So, you’re all grown up. We’ve followed your... ah... career to a certain extent, young man.”
    Crap, here it comes , Jake thought. He waited. “Have you gotten all your lollygagging out of the way, son?”
    Lollygagging? “Is that another way of asking me if I have sowed all my wild oats?”
    “I guess you could say that,” Elroy said. Or maybe it was Estes. “The reason we ask is because your mother said we weren’t to turn over your inheritance until we were sure you could handle it. So, the question confronting us right now, this very minute, is whether you are ready to man up.” This last was said so smartly, Jake blinked and realized the two old lawyers were dead serious.
    “Yes,” he said just as smartly. He almost saluted but thought better of it.
    “We thought so,” Estes said. Or maybe it was Elroy. “The minute you walked through our door, I could tell that you had had your come-to-Jesus meeting. It’s the way it should be on your thirty-fifth birthday.”
    “Yes, sir,” Jake said respectfully. “Tell me what I have to do, and I’ll do it.”
    “Nothing, son. Per your mother’s instructions, we did everything