Jaded (19 page)

“You’re not moving in. You just ruined that for yourself. And we’re sticking to the original plan. You’ll get paid when I’ve got what I need recorded. And just in case you decide to duck out on me, I’ll have you know that the check you wrote to Maria amounts to check fraud.”

“How? You told me to write it.”

“Umm . . . No, don’t think I did. And I don’t think a judge would believe you over me. Just my raising the allegation would ensure you’d never hold another decent job in New York again. Not to mention all my missing jewelry.”

“There is no missing jewelry.”

Finally. Jade saw a flicker of clarity in Syeesha’s eyes.

Sweet leverage.

“Let’s go,” Jade said.

Jade set the cake on the dining table. Syeesha poured coffee as Rodney ended his call. They sat in silence.

That is, until Syeesha started crying.

“What’s going on?” Rodney asked, as if watching a UFO land on the table.

“It’s nothing, really. I’m sorry,” Syeesha said.

What is she doing?
thought Jade.

“What were you guys talking about in there?”

“Honey, it’s personal.”

“Oh,” Rodney said with sudden clarity. “Guy trouble. Guess that explains your lip.”

“I’m breaking it off tonight. As soon as I get home. I’m just so afraid.”

If David Copperfield had suddenly appeared before her and begun to levitate, Jade wouldn’t have been more stupefied than she was in that moment.

“I’m just really enjoying myself tonight. You two are so lucky to have each other.”

That damn woman even produced a tear.
How in hell . . .?

“Is there anywhere else you can stay?” Rodney asked.

“I could stay at his place, but he’d probably beat me there, too,” Syeesha said offhandedly.

Rodney coughed into his napkin, then guffawed.

Syeesha stole a glance at Jade. Intelligent eyes mocked her. Then she dabbed at a tear.

“I don’t mean to be insensitive,” Rodney said between laughs, “it’s just the way you said it.”

“Maybe there’s a shelter we can find for you,” Jade said. “I’ll get the laptop and we can research it.”

“Don’t be silly,” Rodney said. “Syeesha, I insist that you stay in the guest bedroom for as long as you need. I think you just might bring this house some much-needed joy.”

“Well,” Syeesha said as she bit into her cake. “Only if you insist.”

***

Chapter 29

Syeesha stared at the blinking cursor of her shiny new laptop. She hated it. The keys felt too tight; the screen was too bright; and the entire machine-despite being decked out with the latest Intel processor-felt sluggish. The experience with Kiki had frightened her into a compulsive fool, habitually saving her work to a cloud that existed somewhere in the Internet universe and made her work accessible via a password from any computer. She forced herself not to dwell on the work that was lost when Kiki stole her laptop. None of it was worthy of a Pulitzer. But still it hurt to think about it. Those stories were her babies. In time, she’d produce more. She had no other choice.

The cursor waited, teasing and persistent. What could she write? That she had been hired to seduce her boss’s husband, and she felt like a trapped bird? That her boyfriend had walked out on her, and she didn’t know if he’d ever come back?

She closed the laptop and leaned back in the chair. She looked around Jade’s office. So much had happened over the past few days. She’d moved out of her apartment, taking only a few clothes with her.
“You’ll be given a new wardrobe,”
Jade had said. “
I can’t expect you to seduce a man wearing khakis and flip-flops.”
Syeesha had figured
there was no point paying a hundred bucks to change the front door locks—what was there left to take?—so she had just slapped a new five-dollar lock on her bedroom door. Kiki had left her nothing of value except her family photos, and she’d made sure to bring those with her to her new temporary home.

Withdrawing from school had been much harder. Although it hadn’t been a total revelation to her, actually completing and submitting the paperwork had felt like a funeral. Not that she mourned law school. She didn’t. But withdrawing had been like writing an obituary. The death of a dream. Becoming a successful lawyer—with the McMansion, BMW, and summer vacations—had been such a long-held hope that now she felt lost without it. Syeesha felt adrift in a choppy ocean on a tugboat called
Jade’s Scheme
. She had no clue where the boat would lead her.

Christian was probably relieved he wouldn’t have to see her in class. No awkward glances. No rushing out of class or lingering behind in hopes of avoiding the other. She had picked up the phone to call him at least a dozen times, but each time had thought better of it. He had her cell number. Until he decided to use it, she had to move forward with this assignment until it was over.

And it would be over soon. Syeesha stood up and moved to the window of Jade’s office. She parted the curtains. The street below teamed with traffic. Jade had given her a month to make it happen. In reality it was much less than that because Rodney was rarely home. A week had passed since they had had dinner together. That gave Syeesha another three weeks or so to come up with an idea out of this mess.

She needed a plan that would allow her to get the money and avoid doing the dirty deed. More than once she had explored her options.

She could tell Rodney the truth. Expose Jade’s scheme, and try to extort hush money from them. But she was afraid of the very real confidentiality agreement she’d signed. Rodney was a public figure and the New York press was brutal. If he and Jade even hinted at suing her, Syeesha’s name would be splattered in the papers, and future job prospects would be dismal.

She could tell Jade no, and leave and look for another job. But that would mean no big payday, and she couldn’t collect unemployment if she quit. Besides, the time spent looking for a job and actually getting one would mean dollars lost to her pockets. Syeesha just couldn’t afford not to have continuous cashflow.

The only other option she could think of was moving in with her sister. Or borrowing money from her. She felt her stomach spasm. She shut the thought down before she broke out in hives or her body went into full-on convulsions. She couldn’t ask Trina for anything. She had gotten herself into this mess. She would get herself out. But she couldn’t ask Trina for a nickel.

Of course, the quickest way to get out of it was as easy as crawling into Rodney’s bed. But what if he didn’t react the way Jade assumed he would? He hadn’t shown any particular sexual interest toward her at dinner. What if he told Jade to fire her for being inappropriate? Would Jade still pay her for the effort?

But the biggest deterrent that nagged Syeesha was Jade herself. If Syeesha did sleep with Rodney, could Jade be trusted to make good and pay the two hundred fifty grand? The fact that she was willing to accuse Syeesha of fraud—or set up her husband for that matter—told her that Jade wouldn’t necessarily play fair.

It was exhausting thinking about the situation.

Might as well distract myself with work.

Syeesha looked inside the top three drawers. Receipts. Correspondence. Contracts. All organized beautifully. Third drawer still required work. She tugged at the bottom drawer. Locked.

“What’re you doing?”

She turned with a start. Maria stood in the doorway.

“Working,” She replied. “What’re you doing?”

Maria plucked the earphones from her ears.

“Thought maybe I’d ask what you want for lunch.”

“It’s only ten-thirty.”

“I’d need time to prepare it.”

“Where’s the regular cook?” Syeesha didn’t know the older woman’s name. She was like a mirage who worked soundlessly in the kitchen, filling the freezer with applause-worthy masterpieces, then vanishing as quietly as she’d appeared.

“She’s off today. I was going to make you a fresh sandwich or something. But I guess you can make it yourself, considering you live here now.”

There was a little neck action that accompanied her words.

“It was a surprise to me, too, Maria. But I had some issues at home.”

Maria walked farther into the room. “I find it surprising Mrs. McCann would allow you to live here. Women, in general, tend to be jealous creatures.”

Tell me about it.

“I guess I’ve had a positive effect on her. Maria, do you know anything about this cabinet? I can’t seem to get the bottom drawer open. You know where there’s a key?”

Maria didn’t bother looking at the drawer, just shook her head.

“All righty then,” Syeesha said after an uncomfortable silence. “I guess we’re done here.”

When Maria was gone, Syeesha plopped into her chair and opened her laptop.
Does she seriously think I’m trying to be the favorite? Jockey for position as number-one household servant?

She decided her next article would be a blind item of sorts, written as though the story had been told to her. The last she checked with Tanya the blog still had pretty low traffic. But Syeesha decided to be cautious. No names, occupations, or any other identifying information. She titled it, “Avarice on Fifth Avenue.”

And then she posted the whole damn story.

***

Chapter 30

She should’ve come to her senses about three Oreos ago. But who could’ve guessed what a perfect combination they were with Baileys Irish Cream? Syeesha sat in the dark, flipping through TV channels. A movie was starting on HBO. Perfect. She didn’t care what it was because she’d probably be more focused on dunking than plot lines anyway.

“Party for one?”

She turned to see a faint outline of Rodney in the doorway.

“I thought you were staying in D.C. for that big vote on healthcare.”

He shook his head.

“That’s a no-win situation. I’m not voting.”

“Thanks for your service,” she said and turned back around. “Damn. I missed the title.”

She felt around for the remote.

“It’s
The Beast of Brooklyn.
I had a small part in it.”

Great. Must’ve been a serious Oscar contender.

“If you’re looking for Jade, she’s gone to San Francisco for a wedding. I helped her pack.”

“She didn’t tell me she was going out of town.”

Syeesha shrugged. “Can’t help you there.”

Rodney eased into the room, removing his jacket and tie, and unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. He sat close enough for her to hook her leg around his if she were so inclined. She put her feet on the table and balanced the Oreos on her abdomen. Rodney looked at her legs. He had plenty to look at thanks to the ultra-short shorts Jade had bought for her.

“So you didn’t vote, huh? Guess what I heard about you is true then.”

“What have you heard?” He picked up the bottle of Baileys chilling in a bucket of ice. “May I?”

She shrugged indifferently. “That you have an awful voting record. If that’s your idea of playing it safe, it might not be so smart come reelection.”

“What do you know about politics?” he asked from the bar. He returned with a glass.

“Nothing at all,” she said. She stared hazily at the television. Through the darkness, some kind of predator lurked in a jungle, watching two teenagers make out.

“I don’t know anything about anything, Mr. McCann. That’s why I’m here.”

“Call me Rodney. Or Rod, if you’re so inclined.”

He sipped his drink. His eyes lingered on her torso. She wasn’t sure if he was looking at the cookies or her breasts beneath the white tube top.

“I haven’t tasted those in awhile.”

She looked at him. It was hard to read his face from the dim glow of the television.

“Oreos?”

“As a matter of fact, I can’t remember the last time I saw real sugar in this house.”

“Want some?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it. He slipped a cookie from the pack. His fingers turned it like a coin, before twisting it apart. Rodney licked the cream. Then ate each cookie separately.

“I see you’re ‘jacking my style.”

He was quiet while he chewed then he began, “If you must know . . .” He swallowed and followed it up with a sip of his drink. “I’m not voting because I don’t know which side to vote for. I’m not going to stick to the party line just because I’m supposed to. And I’m not going to back something that’s going to make Americans poorer. I don’t know what the right solution for the American people is. And I’d rather withhold my vote than make a bad choice. Not everyone agrees with my stance, but that’s the way it is.”

“Sounds like a cop-out.”

“I can see how it would.”

He was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, looking back over his shoulder at her. He held his gaze too long.