Free Cake on a Hot Tin Roof by Jacklyn Brady Page A

didn’t answer but Miss Frankie nodded. “He came in about an hour ago.”
    The scents of food, alcohol, and Big Daddy were making my head pound. I rubbed my forehead—at least I tried to. Big Daddy had my arms crushed against my side, giving me very little room to move.
    I was getting a little claustrophobic crushed up against him like that, so I finally shrugged him off as politely as I could. That’s when I spotted the young woman standing behind him, arms folded across her chest and face pinched in anger. She was probably mid-thirties, close to my own age, with sleek brown hair and a heart-shaped face. She glared at me, her eyes narrowed behind a pair of glasses with rectangular black plastic frames.
    I had no idea what her problem was, but I put a little more distance between the big guy and myself to show her that I meant no harm.
    Miss Frankie greeted the woman with her customary warmth. “Violet, dear, it’s lovely to see you, too.” She turned to me and said, “Rita, you must meet Violet Shepherd. She’s Bradley’s right arm. I don’t know what he’d do without her.”
    Not his wife, then. Lucky girl. Violet sent me a pained smile and I sent her one back. Luckily I was spared the need to make small talk, because just then a tall man with mocha-colored skin and a deep frown on his face strode up to Big Daddy and jabbed him in the shoulder. “We need to talk, Boudreaux. Outside. Now.”
    Big Daddy’s hot, smelly breath blew over my shoulders and down my back as he turned to face the new arrival, who looked enough like Denzel Washington to make me do a double take.
    “Now, Percy, that’s no way to act,” Big Daddy scolded. “We’re at a party, and you’re likely to upset the ladies. Whatever it is can wait until tomorrow or the next day.”
    Percy swept a contrite glance over the three of us. I didn’t know about the other two, but I was in no imminent danger of emotional upset.
    “I’m sorry, Miss Frankie,” Percy said. “But this is important.” He looked from one of us to the other and smiled apologetically. “I’m sure y’all understand.”
    Miss Frankie and I mumbled that we did, but Violet looked at him over the rims of her glasses. “I don’t think this is the time or the place—”
    Big Daddy gave her a look that stopped her cold, then turned to Percy. “God Almighty,” he said half under his breath. “I said not now . Talk to me later. Or tomorrow.”
    Percy held his ground and the frown on his face deepened. “Now,” he warned.
    Big Daddy gave him a flat-eyed look. “I’m not going to let you stir up a ruckus and ruin the night. Whatever it is that has your boxers in a bunch will keep. Violet, set up an appointment or something. Percy, have yourself a drink and calm down.”
    Percy looked as if he wanted to argue further, but Violet turned her Vulcan Death Stare on him and ordered, “Call the office on Monday, Mr. Ponter. I’ll set up an appointment for you.”
    “Monday will be too late,” Percy said, but he cut a glance at Miss Frankie and me and relented slightly. “My apologies, ladies. I didn’t mean to cause a scene.” He started to turn away, firing one last shot at Big Daddy before he left. “Don’t think this is the end of it, Boudreaux. We’ll settle this tonight, one way or another.”
    Miss Frankie noticed a couple of guests listening to the exchange. Wearing her trademark smile, she took them by the arms and led them away, chatting easily about the music. An uncomfortable silence rang between the rest of us for about two seconds before Big Daddy’s plus-one took charge. Turning her death glare into a smile, she tucked one lock of dark hair behind an ear and put a hand on Big Daddy’s beefy arm. “Is there anything you want me to do?”
    Big Daddy waved her away. “Don’t worry so much, Violet. You’re my assistant, not my mother. Why don’t you go amuse yourself? I’ll catch up with you later.”
    Even though she’d been trying to kill me