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Authors: Shana Burton

BOOK: Flaws and All
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Chapter 43
“Why didn't you tell me that getting dumped sucks?”
—
Sullivan Webb
 
“Well, don't we look tired and spent?” said Lawson, looking up and seeing Sullivan drag through the door later the next day. “I take it that Vaughn has the same haggard look on his face too.”
“Vaughn who?” murmured Sullivan as she dropped her purse at her feet. “That oil rag can kiss my well-sculpted derrière!”
“Looks like somebody got dropped off at the Heartbreak Hotel,” teased Angel.
Sullivan fell in between Lawson and Angel on the couch. She turned to Angel. “Why didn't you tell me that getting dumped sucks?”
Angel rose. “Any sympathy I might've had for you just upped and boarded a plane to Timbuktu.”
“What happened?” asked Lawson.
Sullivan rested her head on Lawson's shoulder. “He treated me like I was dirt. Less than dirt. Like last season's shoes.”
Lawson looked down at her feet. “Well, considering that my shoes are circa 2003, I need you to put this in terms I can relate to.”
Sullivan fumed. “He kicked me to the curb!
Me
—Sullivan Raquel Webb! Do you know what he referred to me as? A freakin' used car!”
A snicker escaped Lawson's lips. “I'm sorry, girl, but a used car?”
“Sully, it's not like you're in love with the guy,” consoled Angel. “Or are you?”
“Love is a little strong,” admitted Sullivan. “But it was a very passionate
like.
I actually thought we were soul mates.”
“Really? Honestly, I thought it was just about the sex,” disclosed Lawson.
“I had real feelings for him . . . at least I thought I did,” said Sullivan. “Maybe I was just caught up in the excitement of it all.”
Angel nodded. “Sin is like that. It always takes you further than you want to go and leaves you there, lost and broken, for far longer than you ever wanted to stay. No matter how much the devil tempts you, God always leaves a way for you to get out of it.”
“Well, God had a little help from Mr. Lovett with getting me out of that one.”
“Sully, it's for the best. You should be thanking God that no one got hurt, namely Charles.”
Sullivan pointed at herself. “
I
was hurt!”
“No, your ego took a beating, and that's not the same thing,” reasoned Angel.
Sullivan stretched her legs out on the sofa. “I still can't believe I allowed myself to get sucked in like that.”
“Don't be so hard on yourself. Even when we mess up, God still loves us, flaws and all. We still love you too.”
“I suppose,” resolved Sullivan sadly. “You got anything to drink around here?”
“Choose your poison,” replied Lawson. “We've got milk, Kool-Aid, juice, bottled water. Take your pick.”
“If you don't have anything that requires an ID, I'll pass.” Sullivan's eyes wandered over to Angel, who was staring out of a window. “What are you doing over there, Angie?”
Angel peeked through the wooden blinds. “Just thinking.”
Lawson leaned forward. “About what, or shall I say
who
?”
“I was thinking about my life and how I thought it would turn out,” revealed Angel. “It's kind of ironic really. Theresa stole my family, now I may be getting hers.”
Sullivan looked up. “So, you've decided to go after Duke after all. I don't blame you, honey. Finders keepers . . .”
Angel shook her head. “It's not like that. Theresa wants to me look after her family when she dies.”
“Of course you'll stay in touch them,” said Lawson. “I'm sure they'll appreciate you stopping by for birthdays, graduations, and holidays, things like that.”
“I don't think she meant it that way,” Angel explained. “She said she wants her kids to come live with me. Duke too.”
“She said that?” asked Sullivan. “Reese actually said she wants you to marry her husband and raise her kids?”
Angel nodded.
“I know that I can be a little self-absorbed, but even I wouldn't stoop to that! How selfish can you get?”
“How is that being selfish, Sully?” questioned Angel.
“Ol' Reese just wants to ease her conscience before she meets her Maker. It's selfish of her to put that kind of pressure on you.”
“Sully, the woman's dying. Have some sympathy,” said Lawson.
“Reese destroyed Angel's family, so now she wants to atone for it by giving her another one?” posed Sullivan. “That's sick! It's sick and it's creepy.”
“I think she sees it like a gift,” said Angel.
“If she wants you to have a gift, she can
buy
you one, not recycle her used family. Saddling you with her brood sounds more like a curse than a gift anyway.”
“Sully, Angel loves those girls.” Lawson turned to Angel. “And if you're honest with yourself, you'll admit that you love Duke too. Is this something you're giving serious thought to?”
“I don't know. It's not really up to me. Nobody has asked Duke what he wants. He may not want me involved with them once Theresa dies.”
Sullivan pressed, “But what do
you
want, Angel?”
“You know that I've always wanted kids, and God knows that I love those girls with all my heart.”
“And Duke?” asked Lawson.
Angel exhaled. “Duke was the love of my life . . . eight years ago. I'm not the same woman he married back then. Plus, I don't want to be his rebound chick, and I'm not trying to take Theresa's place with him.”
“She certainly had no qualms about taking your place!” argued Sullivan.
“This isn't about revenge,” replied Angel. “I've already made my peace with what happened.”
Lawson joined her. “Well, it looks like you've got some praying to do.”
“Yeah, I know, and I have been. Not just for me. I pray for Theresa all the time.”
“I never thought I'd ever hear you say that,” admitted Sullivan.
“I never thought I'd be
doing
that,” replied Angel. “She's really not a bad person. It sounds crazy, but I actually think I'm a better person because of Theresa King.”
Lawson smiled. “I admire you, Angel. Sullivan, you could learn something.”
Sullivan frowned. “Me?”
“Yes, you!” Lawson's cell phone rang. “Hey, Kina, what's up?” She moved out of their range of hearing.
“I don't trust this fake Mother Theresa, and I don't think you should either,” whispered Sullivan.
“Sully, you can't blame the woman for wanting to get her house in order.”
“Just don't forget that she was the one who got
your
house
out
of order.”
Lawson scurried back into the living room and shrieked, “Pull up the city's Web site! Hurry up!”
“What's going on?” asked Sullivan as Angel booted up the computer.
“We're logging on now,” said Lawson into the phone. “I'll call you back.”
Lawson and Angel crowded around the monitor. Angel's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open when she found the Web site in question. “Oh my God! Sully, you need to take a look at this.”
“What?” Sullivan peeled herself off of the couch. “Is Willie slinging mud again?”
“He ain't just slinging it!” exclaimed Lawson, staring at the monitor. “He's got pictures to back it up!”
Sullivan squinted her eyes and studied the screen, “
What the—?
”
She couldn't breathe. It felt like her heart caved in when she saw pictures of her and Vaughn posted online under the heading:
SEX SCANDAL SPUN INTO WEBB'S CAMPAIGN.
The photographs ranged from snapshots of the two of them hold-ing hands to their kissing in front of his apartment. “Who would do this?”
“
A Tangled Webb
,” read Angel from one of the captions. “How apropos.”
“It doesn't say who's responsible for these pictures, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out that it was someone from Willie's campaign,” surmised Lawson.
Sullivan's mind flashed back to the smarmy campaign aide who had been slithering around Vaughn's complex. Her cell phone vibrated in her purse and she raced to answer it. “Hello?” Sullivan shouted, “No comment!” then hung up the phone.
“Was that a reporter?” asked Angel.
Sullivan nodded. “Apparently, the newshounds have picked up the story.”
Lawson winced. “Do you think Charles knows?”
“I don't know.” Sullivan threw back her head. “What am I going to say to him?”
“The bloggers are going crazy with this story,” informed Angel, reading the online posts. “They're calling for Charles to drop out of the race or divorce Sully. One guy is demanding you make a public apology to the church and the people of Savannah.”
“Just turn it off,” commanded Lawson. “Sullivan, don't worry about what they have to say. As long as God and Charles forgive you, that's good enough.”
Sullivan buried her face in her hands. “There's nothing I can say or do that will make anything other than a political nightmare for my husband.”
“Forget about the campaign,” urged Angel. “What about your marriage?”
Sullivan's phone rang again. “I don't want to talk to another reporter.”
“Give it to me,” ordered Lawson. “Hello . . . This is clearly a vicious smear campaign on behalf of Commissioner Tucker in order to avoid the issues and distract the voters. Mrs. Webb has no further comment.” She hung up the phone.
“You handled that like a pro,” complimented Angel.
“You'd be amazed at what you learn if you put in enough hours watching political scandals on
CNN
.” Lawson put her arm around Sullivan. “You need to figure out what you're going to tell Charles. I'm sure he's caught wind of it by now.”
“What
can
I tell him?” Sullivan fell to the floor. “What is there for me to say to him when the truth's right there for the whole world to see?”
“Tell him that the pictures were photo-shopped,” suggested Lawson.
“If I do that, Charles is going to try to move heaven and earth to clear my name. If he tries to sue—and I know he will—it's going to come out that these pictures are authentic.” The tears began flooding from her eyes. “How could I have let this happen?”
“Sully, we all tried to tell you that you were playing a very dangerous game,” Angel reminded her. “Now you have to deal with the consequences.”
“Do you think that Charles is going to leave me?”
“I don't know, Sully, but I do know that Charles loves you. He's a good, patient man. Chances are that his love is strong enough to forgive you regardless of what happens with his campaign. You know how these news cycles run. This whole thing'll blow over in a couple of weeks,” predicted Angel.
“I don't have a couple of weeks,” wailed Sullivan. “The election is in five days.”
Lawson shook her head. “Forget the election! Angel, what man do you think is going to want to stay married to a woman who's been banging another man the whole time she's been sleeping with him? There are some things that the male ego is not structured to handle, and this is one of 'em, especially when it's plastered all over the Internet. This could very well cost Charles not only the county commissioner's seat, but also his business contacts, his standing in the church, and in the community.”
“I expected a little more sympathy, Lawson,” whined Sullivan.
Lawson reeled back. “Why? Sullivan, you screwed up big time! As usual, you just didn't think. All you were worried about was your libido, and Charles is going to be one who ends up paying for it. He doesn't deserve that.”
“I can't think with this much pressure on me! I need a drink,” sobbed Sullivan.
“No,” argued Lawson, “what you need is to face up to your responsibility in this. You have to find a way to make this right, save your marriage, and Charles's campaign.”
Sullivan's phone rang again. “Should I answer it?”
“It's probably another reporter,” said Angel. “You're too upset to talk to them. Just let it go to voice mail.”
“I'll handle it,” insisted Lawson, answering the phone. “Hello?” She swallowed hard and passed the phone to Sullivan.

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