Every Woman Needs a Wife (40 page)

Vernon had the lead and was home-free to make it back outside and get into a cab. Then a little boy grinned up at him. Something about that smile was all wrong. At the very last second the boy stuck his leg out. Vernon didn’t see it soon enough to avoid the headlong tumble that landed him on the ground with the boy pinned and yowling underneath. Served the little bastard right.

“Hey, watch it! You pervert,” the mother shrieked, planting little kisses all over her evil seed’s pudgy face.

A meaty hand jerked Vernon to an upright position as the men crowded around him and dragged him with them. As they trekked back to the construction area, Vernon tried to find a way to escape, knowing that if they pulled him away anything could happen and no one would find him until it was too late.

“Get his wallet, Bubba.”

Vernon’s gaze flickered to the speaker. A man with a wide frame, menacing scowl, and blue eyes just like Tanya’s.

The giant-sized guy holding his neck jammed a hand in his back pocket
and scrabbled to remove his black wallet as Vernon struggled against his restraints.

“Let me go!”

A man stepped forward wearing a blue-and-white-striped suit Vernon wouldn’t be caught wearing to his own funeral. “Not until you tell us what we need to know.”

“I don’t know anything!” Vernon struggled to get out of Bubba’s death grip. “Let me go!”

Wilbur Jaunal flipped opened the wallet and looked at the license inside. “A Yankee boy! Now just what are you doing ’round these parts?”

“Vacation,” Vernon supplied quickly.

The man looked on either side of Vernon. “With no bags?”

“A short vacation.”

“Hmph.” The man’s blue eyes scanned Vernon’s face. “Maybe you should come on with us and we can settle on exactly what you know and what you don’t.”

“What’s goin’ on here?” A brown-skinned, silver-haired man with a sharp gaze, a slight scowl and a uniform stood a few feet from the crowd. His dark eyes swept across everyone in the group before landing on Jaunal.

“Mind your business, boy. He’s got my girl in the family way—we just want to make sure he does the right thing by her. We’re handling a little family business. Off with you,” Jaunal said, shooing the janitor away.

Vernon yelled, “Help me! They’re trying to kill me! Help—”

The sudden pressure of a gun in his side put an end to his pleas.

To Vernon’s dismay, the man shifted off.

“Where’s my daughter?” Jaunal growled, jamming a hand around Vernon’s neck.

“I don’t know who your daughter is.”

“Tanya Jaunal,” he said evenly.

“No, it’s Kaufman now.” Mr. Wiccams broke through the sinister-looking crowd. “He was lookin’ for a Kaufman. She must’ve changed her name.”

The men fanned out protecting the door as people tried to peer into the split in the tarp.

Mr. Wiccams leaned in. “Hey, you’d better not stiff me on the money, either,” he said, poking a long finger at Jaunal’s chest. “Or I’ll just tell that D.A. person that Margaret paid my boy to get rid of that kid for you. Said that little girl was bleeding like a stuck pig when she got off his table. He said Margaret was doing it on your instructions. I’m sure.”

Bubba jerked Vernon forward. “You want me to take care of him for you, Boss?”

“No, there’s too much at stake,” Janual said, scanning the crowd. “Can’t trust you guys to do diddly-squat. She’s still breathing, ain’t she?”

Vernon knew he was not getting out of Social Circle alive.

B
randi strolled through the empty cubicles of her company. The place was like a ghost town. The sound of copiers rolling, fax machines churning, chatter, and gossip was sorely missed. The sounds meant business, which meant cash flow, which lead to progress. The latest projections were horrible and she had to face facts.

She called another company meeting with the last remaining employees. A lump formed in her throat as she stood before them. “The Perfect Match isn’t doing so well. And as much as I’d like to keep everyone on board, I suggest you take any offer TPF has extended…”

Short, bitter, and to the point. With solemn faces and very few questions they filed out of the room.

Ella, Renee, and Michael all stayed behind.

“I’m not leaving,” Renee said with a pat to her red afro. The woman could never keep a style for long.

Though warmed by the gesture, Brandi knew there really wasn’t a choice. “I’m tapped out. I can’t pay your salaries right now.”

“Then lay us off,” Renee replied softly as she looked over at Ella Clark. “We can file for unemployment and still come to work. You can pay me a ‘consultant fee’ for the difference—in cash.”

Brandi gasped, looking at the woman as though she had lost her mind. “But that’s unethical.”

“No, that’s survival, honey,” Ella said, giving Renee a thumbs-up. “Works for me.”

Brandi hesitated, needing to think about the consequences for The Perfect Match. Avie would kill her. But then again, her lawyer was also the one who had helped orchestrate the little savings plan that had kept the business running for all this time. Now that green safe-deposit box was empty.

Then she thought about Renee’s suggestions, knowing that things could turn around if The Perfect Match could survive the storm. “The work will be doubled up.”

“When have we been afraid of a little hard work?” Ella shot back, lifting her chin.

“Okay,” Renee said, rolling back her sleeves. “We can do this!”

Michael waited until the two women had filed out of the conference room. “You know you don’t have to pay me a dime. I only came on as a freelance accountant to clean up the mess Vernon’s friends had made. You insisted I have an office here, but my own business is doing quite well. So money isn’t an issue.”

Brandi knew Michael would always come through for her and she felt a little bit of relief that he still had her back. Then he messed it all up by asking, “Have you given any thought to my offer?”

Lord, she didn’t need this right now! “Do you want the truth or a good lie?”

“I don’t like the sound of that.” His tone was dry and a tad bit angry.

“Then you definitely won’t like my answer,” she shot back. “I’ve got too many other things on my mind to deal with this right now.”

A flash of anger lit and died out in his brown eyes. “You know, I would have supported you in anything you wanted to do. I would never have fought against you like this—ever.”

“I know, Michael,” she said softly, realizing that he would have done just that.

“So you still need more time?”

“Lots more, and you still might not get the answer you want,” she said, as his eyes bore into hers. “I know I felt something for you back in college and I feel a little something for you now, but that doesn’t mean when all is said and done that I’ll feel more than that.”

“Brandi, two years was a long time to wait for you. And then Vernon
came through and whoosh—you were gone. And he wasn’t all that patient, either.”

“Very patient, loving; arrogant,” she said softly, “but I could overlook that last part. And that’s why I married him.” She perched her hips on the table, swinging her legs back and forth like a child. “Michael, you’re one of the sweetest men I’ve ever known, and I felt something for you, but it wasn’t nearly as powerful as what I felt for Vernon. I adored you, but I loved him.”

The crestfallen expression on his face made a slice of doubt sliver through her mind. Was she making the wrong decision again?

“I can’t just chuck him over the side because of this, Michael. We’ve gone through so much. And I still love him. If I went to you right now, you’d be getting leftovers and that’s just not right. If there’s any chance that my marriage will work—I have to try.”

The same decisions she had to make right after college were popping up all over again. This was her chance to right old wrongs and be in the clear. Michael had dated several women but never married, probably because he was still waiting for her. But sometimes his quiet, intense energy was frightening—even now. Yet, she was curious, too. Maybe it took being with Vernon all this time to prepare her for someone like Michael. And she couldn’t just put all of her hopes in Vernon, either. So she said, “Okay, why don’t we start with a date—just a date.”

His lips spread into a beautiful smile and his eyes lit up with a love that was almost painful to see.

She wagged a finger at him. “And you keep your hands and lips to yourself.”

“Damn, you sure know how to take the fun out of life,” he said, still grinning as he moved and centered himself between her thighs.

She couldn’t help but smile back. “And just what were you planning?”

His left eyebrow lifted twice, as a single finger traced a fiery path along her cheekbone. “Nothing I can say out loud.”

“Behave, Michael.”

“Woman,” he began softly, brushing his lips against her temple. “Will you stop cursing at me?”

V
ernon sent up a silent prayer as the men escorted him toward the airport exit. The gun in his rib cage kept him on the straight and narrow, just in case he got any ideas about escaping. These men were crazy. How had he gotten into this mess?

The old janitor appeared again, this time blocking the path of the group.

“What do you want?” Jaunal growled.

“Since you called me a boy, implying that I’m not grown enough to ask what you folks is doin’ on my own, I brought along my mama and my papa.” He shifted to the left allowing full view of the male and female police officers standing directly behind him.

“Now like I said, what are you folks doing here?”

“They’re trying to kill me! And they stole my wallet,” Vernon said, glaring at Bubba who still had a death grip on his shoulders. He yanked forward out of the man’s hold. The gun disappeared as the not-so-jolly man grunted and reached into the pocket of his blue overalls, producing the wallet. Vernon snatched it and turned to the janitor.

“Now, sir,” the old man said with a grin. “I’m sure you’ve got a plane to catch. So if you’ll follow me.”

Vernon brushed off his suit, stepped around Bubba’s massive form, through the rest of the group, and walked briskly away.

The policewoman stepped forward, scanning the crowd. “Now if y’all just follow me…we’ll sort it all out.”

Wilbur Jaunal tore his arm out of the officer’s grasp, his cheeks flushed with color. “Do you know who I am? I own—”

“Well, I know one thing, you don’t own airport security,” the burly woman said, practically lifting the angry man from the ground. She scanned the crowd once, then said in a voice that meant business, “So let’s get moving.”

Vernon thanked the old man, whose gaze narrowed as he said, “You tell little Miss Tanya that Grandpa James is still waiting for another serving of Brummistew.”

“You know Tanya?”

James nodded. “Stayed with my family for two years before that Jaunal tried to force us to send her home.” He grunted, looking over his shoulder to see that more police had arrived and rounded up all of the Jaunal clan. “That man just ain’t right. What he did to that girl was downright evil.”

“How did you know they were talking about your Tanya?”

The man’s pace slowed a little as he said, “I overheard them when they passed the skycaps. I’d recognize Jaunal’s ornery behind anywhere,” James said. “So what’s he doing?”

“He’s offered a hundred-thousand dollar reward for information about her.”

“Yes, we’ve known about that for years, but none of us are talking. Haven’t seen her since she slipped out that night.” Then the man’s expression darkened and became almost deadly. “He made a mistake when he touched my granddaughter. Sending her home with that note on her wrist. We made sure that he got some of what’s comin’ to him before they carted him off to jail. And jail time wasn’t easy for that old boy. I’m sure right about now there’s parts of him that’ll remember the place far longer than his mind will.”

“One hundred thousand is a lot of money.”

“Some things in life are more important than money, son: the Good Lord, family, health and strength, and living life in a way that makes you proud. We loved that little girl. Tanya has an old soul and a good heart. She shared everything she learned from those highfalutin folks of hers; how to waltz, set a fancy table, how to play tennis and the piano. And we taught her how to hold her head up despite what her parents done to her.” Then they passed the newsstand again, and the old man looked over to
Vernon. “Actually, she’s the one that made me think different about white folks. Then it’s men like her daddy that goes messin’ it all up again. She left to protect us from that man. She didn’t have to do that. We have our own way of dealing with the likes of Jaunal.”

The overhead announcer called out the final boarding for the flight to New York City. Vernon wondered if a Chicago flight would happen anytime soon.

“So you’re her fella?”

Now how could he answer that? Truthfully might be the way to go. “I was, but she’s living with my wife right now.”

The man stopped walking to stare at Vernon who realized that the truth didn’t come out quite so good. “Long story.”

“Y’all ain’t got her involved in some of that kinky stuff now?”

“No, I got busted by both women and they joined up to kick my butt.”

“Serves you right,” Grandpa James replied with a hearty chuckle as he started walking again. “You look like a decent enough fella, but you can’t treat womenfolk just any kinda way. If it wasn’t for our women, we woulda never made it through slavery.”

Vernon kept pace with the old man, but he looked over at him, waiting for a better explanation.

“They sucked the new masters at their breasts and sacrificed their bodies to the old masters which sometimes kept us alive. They’ve always had the master’s ear—and it’s happening today, too. Look at that Rice lady—president made sure to keep her around, didn’t he?” The man kept a nice easy pace as they walked toward the ticket counters. “That old Southern boy knows exactly what he’s doin’. You think about that the next time you get an itch you need to scratch. I’ve been married to my Belle for forty-five. Ain’t never thought about being a back door man. ‘Cause that’s exactly what my woman would’ve shown me—the back door. And I was as randy as they come,” he said with a grin. “Loved me some women, though. They’re downright the most beautiful creatures God made. And He made ’em strong, too. He knew we was gonna mess up sometime.”