Destination D (16 page)

“Stop it, Melvin,” Amanda said lightly tapping Melvin on the thighs. “We're celebrating me quitting my job.”

“And
then
them calling her back again to
rehire
her!” Melvin laughed.

“What?
You
quit SMS?” Quinton sat down in the vacant chair at their table. His eyes bulged in disbelief.

“Yeah, I did,” Amanda said proudly.

“But why? I mean, they're one of the top law firms in the country, if not THE top one. And rumor had it that you were the number one paralegal.”

“Let's just say that Amanda got tired of a little someone running a power trip on her all the time,” Melvin said defensively.

Quinton laughed. “You've got to be talking about Pam Madison.”

“Yep, the one and only,” Amanda sighed at the thought of her.

“I remember when she represented our firm two years ago. She was somethin' else then.”

“Yes, I remember that case. I worked on it. And I never will forget it. Pam had me there to almost one o'clock in the morning many times.”

“Daaamn! She's a kick-ass, huh?”

“That's an understatement. But your firm did win, didn't it?”

“Oh, yeah, and we had a wind fall.” Quinton laughed. “One of our clients was in breach of contract and let's just say, Pam got it
all
worked out and then some.”

Amanda shook her head at the thought of her. “You know, she was beyond herself back then. But now…wooo weeee! She really thinks she's
Miss Thang,
as my daughter would say!”

“So you just got fed up and up and quit?”

“Yep, my baby just got tired of the bullshit,” Melvin chimed in. “She and Pam go way back, man. Amanda and Pam went to Spelman and some of law school together.”

“Damn, I never knew that.”

“A lot of people don't. Amanda and Pam wanted to keep it like that too, right baby?”

Amanda took a long sip of her water. “It doesn't matter anymore,” Amanda said, patting Melvin on his knee.

“'Sides, it ain't like she needs that job anyway,” Melvin said as he gently squeezed her hand and kissed her on the cheek.

“So, what do you think about the other sista they hired?” Quinton asked.

“What other sister? Pam's the only black attorney there, unless somebody got hired between last week and now when I quit.”

Confused, Quinton stroked his chin and thought about Dee. “Well, I just met this young woman over in the private dining area who said she works for SMS.”

“Really? What's her name?”

“Desiree or something like that. I can't remember,” he said, snapping his fingers.

Melvin looked at Amanda curiously. “That name don't sound familiar,” he interjected. “I don't ever remember you mentioning a Desiree before.”

“That's because I don't know anyone by that name that works at SMS, unless of course she was just recently hired.”

“Well, she's over there in the private dining room helping out one of my buddies with a case.” Why don't you go over there and take a peek at her?”

“Well, I
am
a little curious.”

“Go on baby, do your detective work. I'll order for you,” Melvin teased. Amanda playfully rolled her eyes at him as she followed Quinton back to the private dining area.

“Hey, Quint's back!” T yelled. “I thought you had to get back and report to Kelly.”

“Aight, man, I done told you before, stay OUT my business! I want you to meet a personal friend of mine. Amanda, this is T. T, this is Amanda.”

“Nice meeting you, Amanda.”

“Same here.”

“Amanda used to work at SMS as a paralegal and I wanted her to meet your friend.” Quinton looked around the room, “Where is she?”

“Hey Chris, where's your girl?” T yelled across the room.

“I think she went to the ladies' room.”

“You want to wait on her, Amanda?” Quinton asked.

“No, that's okay. Maybe I'll catch her coming out of the ladies' room. What does she look like?”

“She's about 5'10”. Long brown hair. She's really attractive.”

“So are a lot of women in here. What's she wearing?”

“Now, you know me, I ain't too good with women's clothing,” Quinton said, trying to remember Dee's attire. “I think it's a skirt and blouse, maybe silver or gray. Yeah, that's it.”

“Hey, that's pretty good. I've got to go in there, anyway. I'll introduce myself. It was good seeing you, Quint. Tell Kelly that Melvin and I said hello.”

“I will.”

Amanda entered the blue marble restroom, admiring the circular stepped basins that adorned the bathroom when she noticed a woman, who, from the back, bore a striking resemblance to Quinton's description.

“Hi. Are you—oh my God! Deirdre?”

Dee's mouth dropped open and she felt her breath stuck in her throat. “Amanda!”

Amanda and Dee stood frozen for a moment. Neither of them knew what to say at first, but instinctively they raised their arms and embraced each other.

“How have you been?” they both asked at the same time.

“It's been such a long time. I just can't believe this!” Amanda said, still giggling.

Dee raised her eyebrows. “Well, you stopped taking my calls, remember?”

“I know. I feel really bad about that, too. I've wanted to call to apologize, but I just couldn't find the words. Tracey's been asking about you, too.”

“I had her recently on a flight. She's growing up too fast!”

“She is and she told me. Melvin and I are both really proud of her.”

“I bet your parents are proud, too,” she said trying not to slip and mention Tracey's father.

“They are ecstatic! Before I forget, I ran into Quinton Richardson in the restaurant and he told me you were working for Sterling, Mathis, and Silverman. I mean, I'm sure Pam told you that I quit the firm. When did all of this happen? Pam didn't hire you as my replacement, did she?” Amanda laughed sarcastically.

Dee suddenly broke out in a cold sweat. She felt like she was about to drown in it. This was not happening. She needed to think fast. “Really? Quinton must have misunderstood me. People were kind of loud in there. He probably just didn't hear me when I said Steinman, Madison, and Estervan,” Dee said quickly.

Amanda looked at her suspiciously. “I'm not familiar with them. Where are they located?”

“In New York.”

“Really? Wow! So, you passed the bar and now you're moving to New York? ”

“I haven't decided yet.”

“So, what about your job with the airline?”

“Like I said, I haven't thought this all through, but I'm thinking I'll work during the week and fly out on weekends.”

“Hmmm. What does Queen Madison think of your plans?”

What in the world am I doing? Amanda is one of my dearest friends and I'm lying to her. I don't know what to do. If I tell her the truth, she'll go back and tell Quint, and then he'll tell Chris and then I'm really screwed.
“You know. I haven't really had time to discuss it with her. As a matter of fact, I didn't know you quit the firm until I spoke to Tracey recently.”

“Pam didn't tell you?”

“No.”

Amanda looked hurt. “Obviously, it wasn't a priority for her.”

“Hey, Amanda. This thing between you and Pam, I just think you need to really…”

“Just don't.” Amanda raised her hand.

“Don't what?”

“Don't defend her.”

“I'm not def—”

“Yes, you are—you always have.”

“Amanda, c'mon you know that's not…”

Amanda glanced around the bathroom and took a breath from deep within. “Listen Dee. This is not the time and definitely not the place for us to have this discussion in the ladies' room. Let's do this,” she said taking out a piece of paper and pen from her purse. “Here is my new phone number. Is yours still the same?”

“Yes.”

“Please call me. I promise I will answer this time!” Amanda smiled. “Or better yet, I'll call you. Let's set up some time to go out and talk. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“I'm looking forward to catching up,” Amanda said, winking.

“Same here.”

Dee smiled and waited for her to go into the stall, then hurried from the room and hid behind the pillar wall. She felt like a fugitive as she snuck a quick peek around the corner to see if Quinton was anywhere nearby. She scanned the room until she spotted Quinton standing and talking to Melvin.

She remained behind the pillars until she saw him disappear. She heaved a sigh of relief. Her silk blouse was sticking to her like honey on a warm biscuit.

“Hey, Dee,” Amanda called out.

When Dee turned around and saw Amanda, she all but leapt out of her heels. She barely caught herself before she lost her balance, almost spraining her ankle in the process.

“Hey, I didn't mean to startle you,” she said, catching Dee by the arm before she fell to the ground.

“Oh, I'm so embarrassed. Thanks,” Dee said, as she smoothed her hair out of her face.

“Are you okay? You don't look too well.”

“I'm not feeling too well, either, ya know? I think I'm going to call it an evening. Hey, thanks—thanks again, for ah…” Dee tried to use her hands to indicate what she was trying to say, since her words had vanished.

“Catching you!” Amanda said, finishing the sentence for her. “No problem. Are you sure you're going to be all right? Do you need some assistance?”

Dee finally let go of the wall and almost toppled over again from nervousness. “No, I'm fine. I'm sure. Thank you, again.”

Amanda was concerned about her friend. “Hey, Melvin is right over there,” she pointed out from the corner. “We can give you a ride home, if you need one.”

“Oh, no, please. I'll be fine.” She fumbled around in her briefcase for her keys. She was having difficulty catching her breath.

“Dee, I'm concerned. Are you here with someone?”

“There's this guy named Chris Dickerson.”

“The Miami
Dolphins,
Chris?”

“Yeah, that's him. Please just tell him that Desiree suddenly became ill and that I will call him later.”

“Who is Desiree?”

“That's just a nickname he calls me,” Dee answered and was ticked off at herself for accidently revealing some of her charade to Amanda.

“All right, Desiree,” Amanda looked at her oddly. “I don't want to be presumptuous, but I think he should come get you and walk you to your car.”

Dee lifted her shaking hands that held the keys. “No, please. I'll be fine. Just give him my message, okay?”

“Okay, then. Be careful.”

“I will,” Dee said, managing to limp her way through the doorway and back to her car. “I'll call you.”

Fueled to Fly

A
silent chill filled the courtroom. Pam and the prosecuting attorney, Linda Garret, took to the Johnson vs. Tyfish case like two piranhas battling for the last piece of human flesh. This was the final day of deliberations and the jury had already been on duty for two weeks. They looked as if they had just as much animosity for Pam and Linda as they had for each other. Since the onset of the trial, the highly publicized case played out like a courtroom scene from a Hollywood movie. And both women were competing for the starring role.

For every piece of evidence Linda had against Pam's client, Pam had just as much evidence to prove his innocence. Each witness from both sides had a strong alibi, and both Pam and Linda made excellent attempts at discrediting each other's witnesses. But the witnesses were steadfast and answered each question thoughtfully and honestly—or appeared to, anyway.

Linda, like Pam, was at the pinnacle of her career. She, too, reveled in the idea of being able to be a part of such a high-profile case. She had also attended Columbia Law School and they worked together on cases in the past. But no other case had been this big, and no other had ever pushed their careers so far into the spotlight.

Linda was Pam's exact opposite. She was soft-spoken, yet extremely persuasive in the courtroom. Linda was not nearly as attractive as Pam, but what she lacked in physical beauty she made up for in legal expertise and charm. She was known for her cropped afro and conservative outfits of classically designed suits and low-heeled Aigner pumps.

Pam's client, Titus Johnson's stomach churned. If he was found guilty, he could face a maximum penalty of twenty years for embezzlement. His face was emotionless. Pam had used this as strategy since the beginning of the trial.

“Guilty or innocent, Mr. Johnson, our motto here is, never,
ever
let them see you sweat!” Pam's voice ranted in his ear throughout the day, reminding him that, in her opinion, any hint of emotion could tip the verdict either way. So, to play it safe, they took the middle road and let the jury decide his innocence based only on the evidence that was presented.

Mr. Johnson leaned toward Pam, clutching his stomach. “I think I'm going to be sick.”

“Believe me, the last thing you want to do is hurl in this courtroom. Here, take this,” she said, pulling a Tums out of her purse. “Take a deep breath and focus on that window over there.”

He looked up at the jury, his eyes searching for answers. Nothing was there. Next, he turned to look at his wife and three children, who were holding hands and praying silently. Their faith gave him some semblance of hope.

Meanwhile, Linda's client, Tyfish's executive team, sat stiffly, passing notes back and forth. While their strategy was causing Mr. Johnson to unravel, it was only fueling Pam's confidence.

Judge Terry Ferguson entered through the wooden doors. The courtroom stood in her honor. The lines in her face showed the stress of her job. Gray roots always seemed to pop up no matter how many times she dyed them.

“Who is the spokesperson for this jury?” Judge Ferguson asked.

A short, soft-spoken woman stood and raised her hand. “I am, Your Honor.”

“Has the jury come to a verdict?”

“Yes, we have, Your Honor,” the woman said confidently.

Mr. Johnson's head fell to his shoulders. This was the first time that he had shown emotion throughout the trial. The spokesperson didn't know if he would make it through the verdict. She thought he looked weak and nauseated as she watched him clutch the base of his stomach. Pam saw the queasy look on her client's face as Linda flashed a premature victory smile. If Pam won, she wanted to permanently delete that smug look on Linda's face.

“Would the defendant please rise?” Judge Ferguson asked.

“Breathe. Breathe and focus on the window. It's going to be all right. Just breathe,” Pam whispered. Pam saw Mr. Johnson close his eyes and take a deep breath as though he was lifting pressure from his stomach. He held onto the table as he braced himself to stand.

“Madame Foreperson, have you reached a verdict?” the judge asked.

“Yes, we have Your Honor.”

“What say you?”

“As to the single count of embezzlement, we, the jury, find the defendant, Mr. Titus Johnson not guilty.” The stout woman looked over at Mr. Johnson and made eye contact with him for the first time.

“Yes! We won!” Pam said. Mr. Johnson grabbed her and buried his head in her shoulders as the tears flooded down his cheeks.

“Thank you, God! Thank you, Pam,” he wailed as he raised his fists high above his head.

The courtroom was in an uproar as Mr. Johnson's family screamed and ran to embrace him while Tyfish Systems' Vice President screamed, “We'll appeal! You won't get away with this, Titus!”

Titus looked at him with a hateful sting in his eyes. He lunged toward him as Pam grabbed him by the shoulders. “Appeal all you want, it will only be the same outcome. I'm innocent!”

“Order! Order in this courtroom!” Judge Ferguson yelled as she slammed down the gavel. “Counselor Madison, get a hold of your client!” The courtroom fell silent. “This courtroom is still in session. I have not dismissed anyone!” She looked toward the jury box. “Thank you, jurors. You have done a good job in doing your civic duty. You are free to go, Mr. Johnson. This courtroom is now dismissed.” Judge Ferguson authoritatively slammed down her gavel for the last time.

Linda was notably disappointed by the verdict. She put her pride aside for a moment as she walked toward Pam. “Congratulations, Pam,” she said through pursed lips. “Mr. Johnson…”

Mr. Johnson nodded. He was still hugging his family, who had formed a small ring around him. Pam was not fooled by her façade of professional courtesy. Linda was enraged and harbored strong feelings of envy and injustice in her heart, and Pam knew it.

“Well, you know what they say,” Pam said arrogantly.

“No, I don't. But something tells me you're going to inform me.”

Pam looked at her with all of the indignation she had been assembling for this very moment and paused before she spoke. “They say in court
someone
always loses.”

“That's true, Pam. Someone does have to lose,” Linda said.

“It's just that in my case, it has not, and it never will be me.” Pam gave her a dismissive look and snapped up her briefcase. “Excuse me while I go out to give a statement to the deluge of reporters that are waiting to hear about
me
and my
client's triumph.”