Hearsay (28 page)

When he told Roman he was willing to get educated about all things HIV, he'd been thinking antiretroviral therapy, CD4 cell counts, and viral loads, but he'd promptly decided he would rather wait and discuss the medical stuff with his doctor. Instead he'd only read stories about HIV mixed-status couples living long, healthy, sexually active lives, and also about safe sex and prevention.

The web search for HIV prevention had produced hundreds of links to articles about pre-exposure prophylactic treatment and the recent controversial approval of a pill called
Truvada
.

The drug, previously approved for the treatment of HIV positive individuals, could also protect uninfected individuals from acquiring the virus if taken daily before and after exposure to HIV. According to medical studies, the drug stopped HIV from taking hold in healthy cells and starting an infection by blocking the activity of a specific enzyme HIV needed to replicate.

In Derrick's opinion, that sounded like heaven. Taking a pill that would lower his risk of infection would go a long way in mitigating Roman's fear of getting him sick, and, to be completely honest, Derrick's fear as well. With any luck, the combined use of condoms, dental dams, and that little pill
would allow them to lead a mostly normal life.

But not everything about the treatment was ideal. There were possible side effects to taking the drug every day. Some were pretty serious, some not so much. Derrick could have an upset stomach, diarrhea, feel muscle pain or weakness, develop kidney problems, and accumulation of body fat, which could only mean his waistline would be shot to hell. He could also have a decrease in bone density, insomnia, depression… the list went on and on. It wasn't guaranteed, but, by taking the pill correctly, Derrick would be mostly protected from contracting HIV. Basically, because he wouldn't be able to have sex. He was a bottom. Having constant diarrhea was a sure way to put a damper on his sex life. Plus, he'd have to deal with a gamut of health issues, and he wasn't sure he was ready for that.

Then again, maybe everything would be fine.

Some of the testimonies he'd read were from gay men in serodiscordant relationships taking the drug who had experienced few or no side-effects at all. If Derrick decided to go on the pill, he hoped he was as lucky as them.

"Go on the pill," he repeated out loud, laughing hysterically. "Now, there's something I never thought I'd hear myself say."

Derrick scissor-crossed his legs and glanced at his watch. It was three o'clock, and he could now officially declare Roman a no-show.

"Fuck me, man…"

Derrick loosened his tie and wiped his face with his hand, all of a sudden feeling hot as hell.

He went back to his texts and pulled up Roman's number. It took his shaky fingers three attempts, but he was able to type a non-aggressive message.

Are you still in court? I'd wait here forever, but I'm really hungry and have a meeting at 3:30. Want to have dinner together tonight?

Sending… sending… delivered. Not read. Derrick waited a couple of minutes. Still not read.

"What the hell is going on?" he grumbled. "Why aren't you checking your messages?"

No service could be a reason. Derrick didn't know about the Criminal Court building in Kings County—located in Brooklyn—but some rooms in Family Court were dead zones for cell phones.

But he could've stepped outside for a minute if that's the case," Derrick argued with his sometimes gullible self. "Had Roman wanted, he could've called me to re-schedule or apologize or give me one damn good reason why I shouldn't think he's having second thoughts.
 

The phone rang in his hand, startling the crap out of him. He was extremely disappointed when he saw it wasn't Roman calling him.

"Hey, girl," he greeted in what he hoped was a cheerful tone. "What's up?"

"Are you back from court yet?" Tashana asked in a hushed, serious tone. "I've got gossip."

"I could certainly use the distraction right now, but that's going to have to wait." Derrick got up from the bench, slid the strap of his leather briefcase across his chest, and started walking towards the office. "I have a meeting in a few minutes and need to grab something to eat."

"Nothing entertaining about this, boo," Tashana said in a louder voice, which probably meant no one was around to listen in on her conversation anymore. "It isn't the usual outrageous bullshit."

"Okay…" Derrick gulped when the sour taste he'd had in his mouth for days came back in full force. "What is it then?" he asked quietly.

"Louisa from Security told one of my girls in the Call Center that she gave an entrance pass to Danielle Contreras earlier today," Tashana blurted.

Derrick tripped on his own feet. "
The
Danielle Contreras?" he asked, heart drumming in his chest. "Risk assessment, public relations strategy development, media relations, crisis response guru Danielle Contreras?"

"Yes,
that
Danielle Contreras," Tashana confirmed. "She came to see your immediate supervisor, boo," she added. "I heard she and Nelson Abramoff were in a meeting for two hours."

Derrick froze on the corner of East 59
^th
Street and Avenue of the Americas. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't talk. He literally couldn't take another step, but his hand shook so badly he almost dropped his phone.

"Cracker, are you there?" He heard Tashana calling him, but she sounded far away. "Derrick?"

Derrick opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out. His mind, on the other hand, was working overtime.

Everyone who was anyone in New York had Danielle Contreras on speed dial. Corporations, private business owners, high-profile individuals, public personalities… whenever they needed to preserve their brand equity, their reputation, or their fucking freedom, they knew to call Danielle Contreras. When a crisis sprung up, they called her before calling their lawyers and financial advisers. She'd come in, bring her team, and make sure the fallout wasn't as damaging as it could be.

And she'd had a meeting with Nelson Abramoff, Family Law Department's director and Derrick's immediate supervisor.

"Boo, answer me, please! You're scaring me!"

Derrick closed his eyes and breathed through his nose.

He was scared, too. Actually, he was terrified. Other than Derrick's friendship with Tyler Coleman and that stupid child molestation allegation, there was absolutely no reason for Mrs. Contreras to be talking to Derrick's boss.

Could someone else in the Family Law department be in trouble and Derrick hadn't heard about it? Could that meeting not be about him after all? But what if it was? What if Roman had decided to end things between them and sent Contreras to asses— No. That made no sense. Roman would've talked to Derrick about it first.

"Why are you so quiet?" Tashana asked through the pounding in Derrick's head. "Do you find her visit as worrisome as I do?"

"To say the least," he finally managed to answer in hoarse voice.

"Jesus, boo," Tashana whispered. "Has something happened with Tyler's case?"

"Not as of this morning," Derrick said absently as he remembered Roman's comments from Friday night.

His friend with the Manhattan DA's office had been avoiding his calls.

Roman suspected Derrick's name might've popped up somewhere.

"The prosecution may already have a True Bill."

Derrick gripped the strap of his briefcase so tightly he suspected his knuckles had gone white. "When Roman came to talk to me about Tyler's case for the first time, he said he decided to take the case because he wouldn't have the firm dragged through a child molestation scandal." He licked his lips, rolled his shoulders, and resumed walking. "Maybe Danielle Contreras met with my boss for risk assessment and public relations strategy development purposes."

That has to be it.

"Yes, that makes sense," Tashana agreed quickly. "Did big boss Bradford tell you they planned on doing that at some point during your magical weekend?"

"No, he didn't." Derrick blinked rapidly and shook his head. "Matter of fact, I'm going to call him and ask what's going on, okay?" He forced a smile into his voice before adding, "I'll report back with whatever gossip I hear as soon as I can."

"Make sure you do. Love you, boo."

"I love you, too."

"You keep calm, you hear me?" she ordered. "I've been praying for you and Tyler, and I told you Jesus is always there for me. Between him and one of the toughest criminal defense lawyers in the City, you and Tyler will be okay."

"I know, girl," Derrick said, smiling for real this time.

"Love you," she repeated. "Don't forget to report back."

Derrick ended the call and pulled up Roman's number. It went straight to voice mail.

"Goddamnit!" he yelled, causing some bystanders to glare at him. "Hey," he said into his phone in a more civilized tone. "I assume you're still in court or in the subway? I'm on my way back to the office. Call me the second you get my message, okay? I just heard Danielle Contreras had a meeting with Nelson Abramoff. I don't know what's going on, or if it's even appropriate to talk to you about this at all because, even though you're my boss, Abramoff is my immediate supervisor. But you're also my boyfriend, and I'm freaking out a bit, so, I need you to call me ASAP, please. I can't wait to see you later today. Love you, sweetie."

He ended the call and punched his friend Noah's number. He got another fucking voice mail.

"Is there no one available today?" Derrick barked before leaving his message. "Noah, it's me. Why did you want to know if I was still in court? Is there something going on? And, why aren't you answering your phone? You sent me a text message not even half an hour ago. Call me."

Derrick ended the call and rubbed the back of his neck.
Everything's going to be okay
, he told himself as he approached Columbus Circle.
There's nothing to worry about
.

He'd lost his appetite after his conversation with Tashana, but he went to Starbucks and got his usual caramel macchiato and a piece of lemon cake.

He needed a few minutes to shift gears before his meeting. To go back to that head space where he was in control and had everything figured out. To convince himself of the fact that frigging Danielle Contreras had no valid reason to recommend Acosta, Bradford, and Chadwick fire his ass.

Don't think about that. Keep the negativity out.

He found an empty seat in a table at the back of the shop, next to a woman talking intently on her phone. Derrick nodded at her as he sat down, and quickly looked away when he saw the tears in her eyes.

Poor thing
, he thought, sipping from his cup.
Here's to yet another distraught soul
.

He tried to clear his mind by looking out the window, watching people go about their business, and drinking his coffee, but soon enough he found himself listening in on her conversation.

The woman had the nicest voice.

Husky, as if she smoked, even though there was no cigarette scent, and there was a trace of a Spanish accent. Her tone was loving and gentle, like a caress, and incredibly melodic. Derrick liked it.

"…must make an effort to stop thinking about that letter… yes… I know, but… okay…"

Derrick saw her nod, shake her head, nod again. She took deep breaths and fanned her face with her hand, as if she was trying not to cry, but she lost her battle. Tears ran down her cheeks, and she bit into her lower lip so hard Derrick feared she'd make it bleed.

"…Georgia, listen to Mommy," she said with a shaky voice. "It doesn't matter that that man is your biological father. He has no right to see you, and Daddy and I won't let him take you away from us. You don't need to be scared, munchkin. You and your brother Kent are
our
kids. Neither of you is going anywhere. We're a family."
 

Derrick's ears perked up.

He'd been casually listening in on a private conversation in an attempt to escape his current worries, but now he was one hundred percent interested. Sounded like this lady was having an adoption contested, and that happened to be one of Derrick's favorite type of cases.

"…oh, baby! Don't worry about what that man said about Mommy!" Her lower lip trembled and she sniffled delicately. "You remember when we discussed this, right? Some people are ignorant and can't accept those of us who are different from them."

Derrick studied the woman out of the corner of his eye.

Long black hair tied back in a low ponytail, olive skin, high cheekbones, slightly slanted brown eyes, a straight nose, perfectly arched eyebrows, and full, glossy lips. She had on an understated but obviously expensive black pant suit, a white long sleeve shirt, and designer pumps. Her ears were adorned by small, dangly diamond earrings, and on her ring finger she had a simple white gold wedding band.

There was nothing different about her at first glance.

"…I know you don't think I'm a freak," she whispered brokenly. "I love you for understanding what Mommy is at such a young age, and I'm sorry this man hurt you by calling me names."

Derrick grabbed a few napkins and offered them to her. She peered at him self-consciously, but then did a double-take. She frowned, shook her head, and sniffled again. She seemed surprised about something, but ultimately took the napkins from Derrick's hand. "Thank you," she mouthed, wiping her face, and that's when Derrick noticed what was different about her.

It was subtle. Her hands were delicate and soft-looking, and there was no Adam's apple. But the facial bone structure was slightly masculine; stunningly beautiful, but definitely masculine. At least that's what it looked like to Derrick's trained eye. Anyone could argue that a strong jaw line could belong to a woman as well. Heck, they'd only have to reference a couple of popular actresses to make their point. But Derrick had met a few transvestites, drag queens, and transsexual women in the course of his life. He knew how to recognize the effects of hormones and the work of a good plastic surgeon when he looked closely enough.

"Are you feeling better now?" she asked her daughter as she took a mirror out of her purse and checked out her face. "Good," she said with a smile. "I love you too, munchkin. Daddy and I will be home around seven. Do your homework and kiss your brother for me, okay? Bye!"