Feb 252013
 

Somewhat decent, Jazz hit the window button.   A man holding a dog lease stood wordless.

“What?” shouted Jazz.

The man stuttered, “Walker couldn’t help himself, honestly. He has a weak set of kidneys.  He has no idea of what things cost, honestly!”

“What the hell are you talking about?”  Jazz snapped.

“Your car, your beautiful car.  Walker’s sorry!”

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Paola took over.

“He pissed on your car, Jazz!”

“What?”  Jazz bounded out the door.

The pee was still running down the side and unto the tires.  Nothing was damaged, but an foul odour was apparent.

The dog owner was standing beside her.

“How much?”

Jazz looked at the man’s humble clothing and then at the money.  She smiled at the man and patted Walker.

“Look, Walker did no harm to the car,honestly!”

The man was still staring.

“What?” demanded Jazz.

“I know it’s a warm night, but….”

Jazz followed his eyes.  She was naked from the waist down!”

Jazz dropped Paola home.  After the small pleasantries and a lingering good night kiss, Paola slipped through the door.  She knew better than to force Jazz into setting another date.  Such pressure would drive Jazz further away.

Jazz settled back into the car.  There was a message on her cell phone.

‘Call Fiona.’

Jazz ignored the request.  Her weekend was not going to include Fiona.

Then, out of the blue something that Fiona had said at the party seemed interesting.

“I would like to be remembered as a modern Boadicea.”

Jazz knew little about the heroine.  She switched on her navigation system.

The famous statute of Boadicea was located across from Big Ben.  She determined to take a short detour and see the statute up close

Bodicea with her two daughters. They were raped by the Romans in front of this ancient quee

Jazz took a photo.   Next morning, she searched the internet for comparisons of Fiona

to Boadicea.    Fiona was an aristocrat, Boadicea of a Queen around 61AD.

Boadicea led an army of men (and some writers think women) to fight the Romans.

Fiona’s enemies would be anyone that challenged her.  Would Fiona be a regal Boadicea or a ‘take no prisoners’ sort of girl?

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Jazz tried to think of a strong image that would define herself.  The only image that materialized was the nursery rhyme, “This is the House that Jack Built.”  Clearly, Jazz had to research further. Yes, she had built houses and built a lucrative career, but she needed a strong personal image.

This was Sunday.  Jazz used it religiously to keep her body in shape.  Before she exited her penthouse, she checked her phone messages.   Kate, the professional golfer wanted to kiss and make-up.  She regretted throwing the delicately carved jewelry box. She stated she was without her precious jewel, the handsome carpenter!  Jazz was unmoved, in fact she had moved on from Kate.  The second message was from Paola, thanking Jazz for ‘a trip to heaven’.  Her husband was taking her on a business trip and she would phone back at the end of the week.  The third call was from Fiona. The voice was strong and eloquent.

“Jazz, it’s Fiona.  I have a business proposition.  I think I can make it over to your factory tomorrow.”

Jazz replayed the message.  The women had the gall and audacity to think she could just drop in, and not have to make an appointment. Jazz smiled, ‘let her come and I’ll just have Margaret tell her I’m fully booked for the entire day!’

If Fiona was playing Boadicea, she would have to  turn  her damn chariot around, and for all Jazz cared, Fiona could  drive it into the River Thames.

Fiona lay looking up at the ceiling.  The sex witha female film producer had been good.  Fiona was a seducer of women and had only been turned down once , and that was by Jazz.  This made Jazz even more desirable and a challenge.  Well, tomorrow she would drive to the factor and make that woman an offer she could not refuse.  Later, when the time was right, Fiona would get that carpenter between the sheets.  Fiona walked into her study and opened her desk draw.  She looked at the framed picture of Jazz looking butch and handsome in her overalls.  The picture went in and out of the desk every time a new lover came or departed, but that damn Jazz had turned down the offer for drinks right after the book meeting.  Well, she would go over to that factory tomorrow and make Jazz a money offer and the chance to publicize her skills on one of Fiona’s documentaries.

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