Chocolate Dove (20 page)

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Authors: Cas Sigers

BOOK: Chocolate Dove
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“Sounds like things are really moving along for you.”
“For us; it's us now. Oh, and Lawson said call him. He tried to call you but I guess you'd already changed your number.”
“Okay. What are you doing for dinner?”
“I don't know, you feel like cooking?”
“I can.”
“You know what, just come to city and we can eat here. This way I can go back to work afterward.”
“Okay, I'll be there in a couple of hours.”
Basra disconnected and fell back on the bed. She couldn't get Adam's disgusting image off her mind. She knew that he didn't want anyone to know about his disgusting habits any more than she did. But what did he have to lose? He could have video of her that didn't include him.
He could say he knows that I slept with a business associate.
With footage to back up his lies, she wouldn't be able to fight it. Could Grayson ever forgive her?
Her phone rang, and she quickly picked it up, when she saw Grayson's number.
“Hey, babe, Lawson is going to join us for dinner.”
“Why?” she whined.
“Because he said he had business to discuss.”
“Fine!”
“What's wrong? He's your friend, and he's really getting my name out there.”
“At what cost?” she mumbled.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing, I will see you at the studio.”
Basra hung up and immediately called Lawson, who didn't answer. “Lawson, this is Basra. Call me. This is my new number.”
Within minutes, Lawson called back.
“I see you have a new hustle,” she answered in place of hello.
“Hello there,” he said.
“What are you doing, Lawson?”
“Currently, I'm on my way to the tailor.”
“No, what are you doing with Grayson?”
“Your guy is a growing gold mine. People love his stuff.”
“So you've decided to make money off him.”
“You started this, not me,” he said.
“I don't mind you making deals for him, but don't you dare think I'm included in the deal. You got your investment back and that was it for us. Our business is done.”
“Honey, our business will never be done,” he said. “See you tonight.”
Basra hung up and threw her phone on the bed. She lay down and took a quick nap to avoid the headache she could feel brewing.
When she woke it was past time for her to meet Grayson. She looked over and saw three missed calls from him. Basra quickly called him back.
“You okay, babe?”
“Yes, I feel asleep. Where are you?”
“On my way to the restaurant. We're eating at Per Se.”
“Text me the address.”
“Okay, hurry.”
Basra hung up and found something to throw on. She pulled her back into a ponytail and applied her makeup. She wore a black jumpsuit, black heels, and a turquoise clutch. By the time she arrived at Per Se, the party was already there having appetizers. There was an additional person at the table; a new face that Basra didn't recognize.
“Hiya, darling,” said Lawson as she walked up.
Grayson also rose and kissed her cheek. Basra took a seat and smiled at the woman.
“This is my fiancée, Gracie.”
“Oh, yes, the fancy pot roast,” Basra said with a smile.
Gracie turned to Lawson. “You've been bragging about my pot roast?” She nudged his chin.
“We ordered a bunch of food for the table.”
“Okay.”
“So, I was telling Grayson that he could really spend the next two years doing work for several of my international business partners and before you know it, he could become a millionaire.”
“I love the pieces you did for Lawson.”
“Gracie knows a bunch of people too. I don't know if everyone's going to love the modern stuff you do, but if you could muster up a simple collection of still lifes with your signature flair, we could be in business.”
“I came with Lawson because he told me that Basra didn't really want to broker your deals and I know this is something I could do for you. Lawson and I would work together,” Gracie said.
Basra looked over and saw the very familiar gleam. “I think it's something we should discuss,” Basra said to him.
“Babe, it sounds like a good idea. So how would this work?”
“You have a nice space already, but I think you need to also have a gallery in London,” said Lawson.
“All the greats have a space in London,” concurred Gracie.
“We need to make sure you have pieces in both spaces. We would keep the gallery full of originals and then you would develop a series for prints only. There's money in prints.”
“I think that devalues the artist,” said Grayson.
“Are you kidding me? All the greats have prints: Andy Warhol, Monet, Picasso, Dali.”
“They're all dead,” commented Basra.
“We don't have to decide right now, it's just a working plan,” expressed Gracie.
Basra tapped Grayson's arm and whispered. “You don't have to decide anything right now. Let's talk about it.”
The four enjoyed their French cuisine and didn't talk much more about art. The conversation moved to travel. Gracie had traveled extensively. It was her first hobby. She'd visited every continent and was quickly checking off every country.
“I travel internationally at least five times a year. I am looking at a piece of land in Fiji. Lawson isn't a fan of the South Pacific.”
“Too many damn natural disasters. I'm not buying anything that could be swept away during a rain storm.”
“Tell me, Grayson, have you visited Asia?”
“I haven't,” he said.
“Well, when I get my place in Fiji, I will have to have you over,” she said with a small giggle.
“I'd like to come as well,” Basra said, making sure she remained a part of the conversation.
“Of course, I was just thinking Grayson could do me a few original pieces.”
Grayson nodded and chuckled.
“Could you guys excuse me?” Basra rose and went to the restroom. She couldn't quite put her hands on it, but something strange was happening at that table. The food was excellent, but she'd had enough creepiness for one day. She was ready to go. When Basra returned, only Gracie and Grayson were at the table.
“So, babe, you ready to go? I know we just finished our meal but I've had a long day,” Basra stated.
“You don't have to go so soon,” said Gracie, rubbing the top of his hand.
“Actually, I am ready. I have a long day tomorrow, and I want to get an early start.”
“Where's Lawson?” Basra asked.
“He had to make a phone call,” replied Gracie.
Just then Lawson walked back to the table. “That could be a potential client right there; an associate who owns about three private banks. He makes my net worth look like pocket change.”
“Lawson, we're going to get ready to go,” Basra reiterated.
“Say it ain't so. We had after-dinner plans. Hoping to go check out a band.”
“Not tonight,” said Grayson, who reached in his pocket and pulled out a hundred. He placed it on the table. “I'm not sure how much it costs, but ...”
“That should cover the tip,” said Lawson. “I've got the rest.”
“You sure?” said Grayson, reaching for his wallet again.
“I'm sure. See you two very soon.”
Basra and Grayson went outside.
“I'm taking a cab, you do what you want,” said Basra.
“That was weird,” he said.
“Wasn't it?”
“No, when you left, Gracie propositioned me ... well, us,” he said.
“Huh?”
“She thought we were swingers and she wanted us to spend the night with them. I don't know if she wanted us to switch or have a group thing or what.”
“Are you sure? What were her exact words?”
“First she complimented me on my physique and then she asked if I was attracted to her, and I was trying to be nice so I said she was definitely an attractive woman, but that I was happily married. Then she said, ‘Well I'm not asking you to get divorced, I'm just asking for a little dick.'”
Basra gasped. “Are you serious?”
“I told her I wasn't sure how to take that comment but I thought it was disrespectful to you and Lawson, and she said she was sure Lawson didn't mind and figured you wouldn't care either.”
“That's crazy,” Basra muttered.
“Why would she think that's okay?”
“Have you ever seen
The Devil's Advocate?
” asked Basra.
“Yep. That's exactly what that was. I even saw her face transform like that lady's in the movie.”
“Man, when you deal with people like that, you never know what kind of stuff you might be getting into.”
“Hey, those are your friends,” said Grayson.
“Right, which is why I said to wait before doing any deals with them. Lawson is a very powerful man, but he's also screwed in the head. I keep my business with him very distant.”
“That's good to hear, because Gracie spoke like you two had some kind of affair, and I almost believed her for a second.”
Basra pretended to ignore his comment and didn't say anything for blocks. When they got close to home she spoke. “I don't know if you should take the deal. I think we can make connections based off of the people you've already met.”
“I'm following your lead.”
“Well that's my lead.”
Grayson paid the cab driver and hopped out.
“Oh, my dad called,” said Grayson.
“Really? What did he want?”
“Your phone number. He said that he had important business to speak with you about.”
“Really?”
“I asked him what, but he wouldn't tell me. He said to call him and that he and Adam needed to speak with you about business. I told him you were free tomorrow.”
Chapter 18
That Sunday Basra was exhausted, for the night before she didn't sleep but for one hour. Her night was spent worrying about her pending lunch and how she could possibly get out of it. Grayson left home early to get a start on his work, and Basra wasn't far behind. She was hoping to catch Hollis at home. She called while en route.
She left a message. “Hollis, this is Basra. I need your help. I'm coming to see you.”
Hollis returned her call as she was pulling up to Riverside Drive. “I'm home but I only have about thirty minutes,” she said. “I'm sure it will take you that long to get here, so we should reschedule—”
“I'm downstairs,” interrupted Basra.
Hollis buzzed her in and Basra wasted no time spilling the beans.
Hollis sat behind her desk and listened intently. “This is exactly why I discourage relationships in this business.”
“I understand, but that doesn't help me at all. Can he blackmail me?”
“First of all, you shouldn't have let yourself get taped.”
“How was I supposed to know?”
Hollis pulled up her computer and typed a few keys. “Adam Feinburg. He's originally from Indiana, but has offices in San Francisco, Canada, and New York. His net worth is fifteen million.” Hollis looked at Basra and commented. “At least he's not that rich.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“The richer they are, the more connected they are. Take someone like Lawson, who is worth 3.5 billion. He has enough power and connections to bring this whole thing to a halt. Adam is just a regular businessman. I'm sure I know enough people to buy his silence. He won't be any trouble.”
“But what if he tells my in-laws?”
“Oh, yeah, I can't do a thing about that. I'm thinking about Choice.”
“So what am I supposed to do?”
“I suggest you tell your husband the truth. You say you're quitting anyway, so what's the harm?”
“The harm is he'll know what I've been doing for a living. He won't want to stay with me after that.”
“That's the risk you have to take. Love is a strange thing, you never know. I have to get ready to go.”
“Fine,” Basra said, dejected. She rose and walked out. She couldn't shake the dismal expression from her face. No matter how she tried to spin it, she knew Grayson wouldn't look at her the same way if she said the truth.
“Maybe I could reason with Adam,” she whispered. “I don't have a choice.”
As she pulled out her phone to call, she visualized her last visit with him and it nearly made her sick. She quickly changed her mind and tossed the phone back in her purse. However, as soon as she took two steps, the phone rang.
“Hi, babe,” Grayson said.
“Hi,” Basra answered.
“So, my dad said that he could meet you around two
P.M.
in the city. He said to call him and let him know where. I'll text you his number.”
“He still didn't say what he wanted?” asked Basra.
“No, and it's strange. But he insisted it was important.”
“So, are you talking now?”
“He called to ask for your number and he asked me about our relationship. He did apologize for missing the art show.”
“He's got to be proud just a little bit.”
“Where was he before? I'm sure he still sees me as a bum, just a bum who got lucky,” said Grayson. “Make sure you call him. I have to go back to work.”
Basra hung up and seconds later the text with Ray's number came up. She looked at the number for close to three minutes before deciding to dial. Even then she didn't dial, but opted to text him instead: “I have a busy day, maybe we can have a phone conversation.” She hit send. A minute later, her phone rang. It was him.
“Hello, Mr. Charles. How are you?” she answered.
“I won't take up much of your time, I just need to speak with you for a moment. Where are you now?”
“Leaving an appointment on Riverside.”
“I just got to the city. We can go ahead and meet now if you're available.”
Basra tried to detect his demeanor by his voice tone, but she couldn't.
“I can meet you at Pier i Café right there on Riverside and Seventieth. Stay put, I'll be there shortly.”
Basra released a groan. There was no way out of this lunch and so she walked toward Seventieth Street in hopes that he wanted to discuss reconciliation with his son. Basra prayed that Adam hadn't said anything to him.
Basra walked in and waited for Ray in the front area. He came along shortly, wearing a sweat suit and baseball cap. He greeted Basra with a warm hug.
This is a good sign,
she thought. They sat and immediately Ray started.
“I know you've got a busy day, so I'm going to cut to the chase. You know I have a huge architectural firm. We've done commercial properties all over the country. I need to expand overseas.”
“You're here to talk about business?” Basra said, somewhat shocked.
“Yes.”
“I thought you wanted to talk about Grayson.”
“Why would I talk to you about my son?”
“Well, I know you two haven't had the best relationship, so I was thinking you wanted to improve it and you were seeking my advice.”
Ray let out a hearty laugh. “I can speak to my son directly. I don't agree with his career choices. Though he is talented, he should have followed me into this business. African Americans have a hard enough time in this country building the multi-million dollar business that I've managed to do. When I die, I have no one to pass this on to. Therefore, our family's generational wealth is passed on to my successor. Other cultures don't do that. He could have learned this business and painted on the side.”
“But he didn't want to be an architect.”
“Sometimes it's not about what we want to do, but what we should do to better our situation. And that's not always pretty.”
Basra understood exactly what he was saying but she didn't comment.
“Young Americans don't like to sacrifice. But I believe sacrifice is the main ingredient of success.”
“He has sacrificed, he's struggled.”
“That was his choice. I laid the foundation so that he didn't have to and so that his son wouldn't have to.”
“But if you had invested in his passion he could have gotten there a lot more swiftly, and it still could have created generational wealth. Why does it matter how the money is reinvested as long as it increases? And why did it take stranger to believe in your son before you would?” sincerely asked Basra.
“You wouldn't understand,” said Ray.
“I understand that where I come from we don't have much but each other, and knowing that someone you love supports you fuels your success.”
Ray had nothing more to say about Grayson, so he quickly changed the subject. “I have a proposal for Arthur Cossington. How can I get it to him?”
“You have to go through Grayson.”
“What? I thought he was your connection.”
“I met him through my friend, but he contacts Grayson directly. If you want to do business with him, that's your best bet.”
Ray leaned back in his seat and gave a sly smile. “You're a slick one,” he said.
“I promise I'm not trying to be slick. Grayson has better relationship. In fact, he has relationships with a lot of people you'd probably like to do business with.”
“Is that so?”
“Indeed it is.” Basra looked at the menu and gave small smirk. After a few seconds, she looked up at Ray. “Now, whether he gives you any of those connections, that's another story.” The server approached. “I'll have the Caesar salad with grilled chicken.”
“And for you, sir?” she asked Ray.
“The blackened salmon.”
Ray turned to Basra and smiled. “When I first saw you, I thought you might be one of these foreign gold-diggers who marry for citizenship and money. But Kaamil tells me that you make good money as a model.”
“I do okay. I definitely make more money than Gray. So that should be the least of your worries.”
“So why did you want to marry my son?”
“He's a wonderful man and when we are together I feel so safe. He comforts me. His spirit is so gentle, and he makes me laugh. He's hilarious!”
“I was shocked when he announced that you two had gotten married but he followed in my footsteps. I didn't tell my parents about Hansa until after we were married. I went to Columbia University and my parents, who worked very hard to send me there, insisted that I come back home and marry my high-school sweetheart, who went to Howard. My mother flipped out when I told her I was dating a woman from India. But I was hell-bent on making my own path.
“So you and Gray are a lot alike.”
“I guess,” Ray said.
As Basra smiled, seeing that she was getting through to Ray, Adam walked over to the table, completely upsetting the moment. Her smile dropped off her face and was replaced with a scowl.
“Oh, Adam, I'm glad you could make it,” said Ray. “You remember Basra, right?”
“I never forget a lovely face,” he said.
“So we were just talking about Arthur Cossington and his hotels. But she thinks Grayson might be the best approach. So our business with Mrs. Charles ...” He paused and smiled. “Our business might be cut short.”
“I hate that,” Adam said, scooting his chair up to the table. “So tell me, can my company help you with any financial services? I work with companies large and small.”
“His company is doing some work over in Africa. Tell her about it. Excuse me.”
Ray left the table, giving Adam the perfect opportunity to harass Basra.
“Don't you say anything to me,” she said, hoping to cut his actions before they started.
“You changed your number.”
“I'm done with you, Adam. I mean it.”
“Fine, you settled your own fate. I will let Ray know that you are whore. I will tell him that one of my associates saw us here together and informed me of your true identity and then I will make sure Grayson gets the video footage. And I'll make sure it's one of your best performances.”
“Do whatever you like. I'm leaving.”
“Leaving where?”
“I'm going back home. I've made enough money to start over. The dollar stretches much more there. So do whatever you must do, but I'm not ever sleeping with you again. You're a freak and I hope you catch a horrible disease and it makes your testicles slowly rot, and fall off one after the other.” Basra's glare disappeared. She put on a big smile and greeted Ray as he came back to the table.
“Ray, I hate to rush but I do have another appointment.” Basra rose from the table. “Adam, it was a pleasure.”
Basra strutted from the restaurant with her head held high. Inside she still felt bad, but she was slowly making strides in the right direction and for that she was grateful.
But Basra's heart was breaking. She knew that she would indeed have to tell Grayson the truth or truly leave the country and go back home. The longer she contemplated it, the second option seemed like the best one. By that evening, Basra had decided she was going back home. She couldn't face the shame of Grayson knowing who she was and although it made more sense for Adam to keep quiet about his own perversions, she just wasn't sure that he wouldn't expose her. In truth, she had made enough money to start over, and she needed to leave before they signed the paperwork on the new place.
That week, Grayson had to go out west for two days for a few meetings she'd set up, and Basra's plan was to book her flight to Somalia and leave before he returned. It was definitely the most cowardly act to date, but shame and money equaled in power. Her family would never accept her marriage anyway and, eventually, the pain would heal and this would be a small blurb in both of their lives. Basra went downtown, entered the courthouse, and left carrying annulment papers. She went by the bank and took out $3,000 from her savings, which was steadily increasing due to the investments Lawson had suggested. She placed it in an envelope and took the train over to the Upper East Side. She found the mom-and-pop jewelry store, walked in and was greeted by the same little man.
“I remember you,” he said with a smile.
“Yes, is your wife here?”
“One minute.” He rushed upstairs and returned with her following close behind.

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