The Deal, the Dance, and the Devil (19 page)

He would be doing his part without me. So this part I wanted to do by myself. “I’ll be fine.”

He squinted, and I knew he wasn’t sure, but I had no doubts. I could handle Shay-Shaunté, trust that. Plus I didn’t want Adam anywhere near her. Didn’t want her to have the pleasure of his company for any longer than we agreed.

A weekend.

A weekend!

A weekend?

Could I really give my husband up for that much time to another woman? A weekend. Three days. Seventy. Two. Hours.

Adam embraced me, and it was all that I could do to hold back my sobs. “We’re going to get through this. Together,” he promised.

I nodded.

I dashed to the car, and when I put the key in the ignition, Adam was at the door, watching me. Grief was etched on his face; he looked like a man sending his wife off to war.

I reversed the car and never glanced back. Never said goodbye to my husband.

Like everything I’d done in the past hours, I drove to work like I was some kind of mechanical woman. My eyes were straight ahead, my mind was blank except for this one thought: I was about to make that deal with Shay-Shaunté. That’s all I could think about. It was as if my brain wasn’t big enough to handle anything else.

When I finally turned into the Ferossity lot, I drove the car right to the front of the building. Embarrassment had kept me from doing that for weeks—the shame of having to explain how we’d returned my Lexus or how the Escalade had been repossessed. But what was there to be embarrassed about now? Nothing would ever match the humiliation of what I was about to do.

I had to take slow steps to the elevator; my heart knocked against my chest as if it was trying to escape. But by the time I got to the twelfth floor, I couldn’t feel my heart at all.

Inside my office, I was convinced the muscle that was supposed to keep me alive had given up. Now, I had to fight for every breath.

But I wasn’t going to let my body trick me out of doing what I had to do. With or without a heart, I was going in there.

For the greater good.

For the sake of my family.

As if this was just an ordinary day, I hung up my coat, tucked my purse into my desk, checked myself in the mirror, and straightened the jacket of my pantsuit.

Then I headed to Shay-Shaunté’s office.

Chapter 29

A
QUICK KNOCK AND THEN
I peeked inside.

“Got a minute?” I asked Shay-Shaunté as if I didn’t hate her.

Not that I hated her. Not really. We’d been cool—till two weeks ago.

Shay-Shaunté’s lips spread into a smile that could only be described as sly. She leaned into that huge-back scaly chair of hers and beckoned me in. “I have all the time in the world for you,” she said.

I closed the door behind me and wished now that Adam was with me. Or maybe not Adam. Maybe Brooklyn. Or even Alexa. Yeah, Alexa! Because my daughter did not play and she would’ve ripped Shay-Shaunté knowing what this woman was about to do to our family.

But since I didn’t share my daughter’s teenage naïveté, and Adam and I had to live in reality, I was here alone.

“Sit down,” Shay-Shaunté said.

I sat and inhaled a deep breath. Then took another one, deeper this time, to get a double dosage of bravado. “We’re going to do it.”

“Good,” she said simply, though through her smug tone, I heard more. Something like: I knew you would.

“This is strictly business,” I said, laying down the beginning of my rules. This was her deal, but it was gonna go down my way.

She shrugged. “Of course. I already told you that.” Her face was blank, without emotion at first. But then her lips slipped into that lopsided smirk and she added, “Just business … what else would it be?”

If there was any way that I could’ve slapped her and still gotten the five million dollars, I would’ve done it. But like I’d just told her, this was business—no room for my hurt feelings.

“And …,” I said, suddenly thinking of something, “we want a contract.” I wasn’t really sure why I said that. Really had no idea what having a contract would do. But at least she understood my mind-set—business. Asking for the contract made me feel like I was in control of something.

“A contract?” she said, seemingly surprised. “Is this Adam’s idea?”

Now, why did she have to bring Adam into this? I mean, yeah, he was part of it—the major part—but not until I said so. Plus, I did not like the way she said my husband’s name. Like she knew him, really
knew
him, biblically knew him—already.

“No, the contract is my idea.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Impressive,” she said as if she never thought I would’ve come up with such a thing. “What would you like to have in the contract?”

I hadn’t thought about that. I mean, it was just an idea I had a minute ago. But I wasn’t going to let her know. So, I
began with the basics. “You’re going to pay us five million, and …” I couldn’t think of anything else.

I must’ve done all right, because Shay-Shaunté still smiled. And really, the only thing that was important was the money—right?

Now I was the one who leaned back in my chair. Until Shay-Shaunté reached into her desk and placed two legal-size pages in front of me: Legal Agreement between Shay-Shaunté and Adam and Evia Langston.

Huh?

I glanced through the two pages quickly, not taking in much, just shocked that she already had a contract. Was this a case of great minds thinking alike, or was Shay-Shaunté some kind of … what? Psychic? Was she clairvoyant?

I scanned the agreement, slower now. Everything was here in writing—that Adam would be with her from 9:00 p.m. on Friday, December 31 until 9:00 p.m. Sunday, January 2.

Well, at least this first part was good—if there was anything good about this deal. She wouldn’t have him for seventy-two hours; it would only be for forty-eight.

I could do that, right?

Then there was some legalese about Adam’s services—that the sole purpose of the weekend would be for Adam to escort her to various social events over the weekend.

That made me look up. Was that all Shay-Shaunté wanted?

As if she knew the part that I was reading, she said, “That is to protect all of us. We want this to be a legal contract. Can’t have it looking like prostitution, can we?”

I had to work hard to keep my groan inside. Looking down again, I finally got to the reason for all of this—that we would be paid five million dollars. Legalese followed those words: about breach of contract, and other things that I didn’t quite understand.

On the second page, my eyes stretched so wide, that they hurt. “What is this?” I asked her.

I turned the paper around and pointed, but Shay-Shaunté didn’t even look down.

“Evia, you’re a valued employee.”

“And?”

“Maybe I should’ve said that you’re invaluable and it’s going to be hard to replace you.”

“Not in this economy.”

“Specifically, it’s going to be hard to replace your skill set.”

“I don’t think so. You’ll probably be able to find someone much better than me,” I said, still trying to argue her down. I had to get her to take this part out.

“Even so,” she said, shaking her head. “You have to stay with me, with Ferossity, for six months after the deal is done. I can’t afford to have your position empty and—”

“What about Rachel?” I interrupted. “She’s been here almost as long as I have, and not only can she take my place, she can train anyone who—”

She held up her hand. “This contract is the contract,” she said in a tone that I’d heard many times in meetings with men who were bigger and smarter than me. “Without your agreement to any part, it becomes null and void.”

I could not believe this! After she spent a weekend with my husband, I was supposed to spend six months with her? How was I supposed to look at her every day after that?

No! Definitely not! I couldn’t do it.

But without that agreement, there would be no deal. And without a deal, there would be no five million dollars. And without five million dollars, we would have no house, our children, no school, Ruby, no safe haven…

“Will I still be paid for my work
if
I stay?”

“
When
you stay—yes.”

So, that took the deal to a little more than five million. As if that made this any better.

“I need to look this over with Adam,” I said.

“Of course you do. He’s your husband. You should share everything, and he has to sign the contract as well.”

I stood, needing to get away. These ten minutes had already been more than I could take. “We’ll talk about it tonight and let you know tomorrow.”

She leaned back in her chair, folded her hands across her lap. “That’s fine, no rush,” she said. “My birthday is still almost two weeks away.”

I was halfway to my escape when she called out to me.

“I know this is difficult,” Shay-Shaunté said. She sat regally, in that huge-back chair, as if she was the queen of something. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?”

What happened to me being so invaluable?

But I wasn’t about to look a gift-snake in the mouth. I marched to my office, grabbed my coat and bag, and dashed to the staircase. I didn’t want to chance running into Rachel coming into the office.

I’d make my getaway and take myself right on home.

Chapter 30

F
OR THE FIRST TIME IN A
really long time, I started to pray. Not that I didn’t believe in prayer—Big Mama taught me that oftentimes a conversation with God was all that you needed. And in the beginning of our marriage, that’s what Adam and I used to do. Before we ate a morsel of food, we prayed. Before anyone shut their eyes at night, we prayed. Before anyone left the house, we prayed. We prayed for grace and traveling mercies. We prayed for God’s best. We prayed just to send up praises.

But then we had those sermons from Cash. Not that he didn’t believe in prayer. It was just that he taught us that the way to prosperity was beyond prayer. You couldn’t just keep asking God for what you wanted—you had to change you. It was about
your
true thoughts and
your
true desire to succeed. So Adam and I focused more on our positive affirmations than on prayer. And it worked.

Right now, though, this thing with Shay-Shaunté seemed more like a prayer moment. That’s why I kept asking, “God, should we do this?” all the way home.

But that alarm that blasted yesterday was silent now. Could silence be God’s answer?

Now I was more confused than before.

When I left home this morning, the decision was made. But now … after that meeting … after that contract … with Adam spending forty-eight hours with her and me spending six months … could we do this?

I couldn’t imagine what the six months would be like. Seeing her during the day. Wondering what she’d done with my husband. Being with Adam, at night. Wondering what he’d done to Shay-Shaunté. The images, the torture would be relentless.

Slowly, I curved the car into our driveway, but I didn’t make a move. What I wanted to do was march into our home, tell my husband how the meeting had gone down, and then have him stand up and say, “That’s enough! That’s it! We’ll find some other way!”

But that wasn’t going to happen. Adam had already turned everything over in his mind. He had studied this, dissected this, pondered this, and solved this. He couldn’t tell me that we’d find some other way because there was none.

“God, what should we do?”

I tried to snuggle into the seat the way I used to in my other car. But the cloth in the Kia didn’t give the way the leather in the Lexus did. Still, I closed my eyes and searched for some semblance of peace: There had to be serenity inside five million dollars.

This really was a no-brainer.

“So, is that what you’re telling me, Lord?”

I tried to imagine our lives on the other side. Without the five million dollars, we were on the verge of total collapse. That couldn’t be what God wanted for us.

But if we really took this deal, then Adam would lay with another woman—no matter our vows—for forty-eight hours. All that time, he’d be with a gorgeous woman. Who looked better than me. Who was smarter than me. Who had more money now than I would have in ten lifetimes.

None of that would matter, though. Not to Adam. Not to the man who loved, honored, and cherished me.

But.

When I closed my eyes, I could see him with Shay-Shaunté. Lying with her, enjoying her, wanting more of her. I could see them making love for forty-eight hours straight—Adam never wanting to stop because he’d never been with a woman like her.

I groaned.

“Shine! Shine!”

I blinked my eyes open and saw Adam standing at the door. I sat there, watching him as he waved for me to come in.

“Shine,” he called again. “What are you doing out there?”

It wasn’t until he began walking toward me that I moved. I pressed the brake, started the engine, then shot off before Adam could get near the car.

“Shine!” he called after me.

But I didn’t look back.

I had no idea where I was going, but I knew where I couldn’t be—and that was anywhere near Adam. At least not right now. Not until I could get rid of the images. Of him and Shay-Shaunté. For forty-eight hours.

Chapter 31

“S
O, YOU
’
RE REALLY GOING TO DO
it?” Brooklyn whispered, even though there was little chance of anyone overhearing us above the din in the Martini Bar. “Wow!” It might’ve been a Wednesday evening, ten days before Christmas, but the intimate and popular club was packed with professional men and women. These were D.C.’s best by day, but at night the journalists, the lobbyists, the political assistants stripped away their work ethics and turned into pickup artists—men who were looking for a good-time, onetime hookup. And women who wanted so much more.

Brooklyn, Tamica, and I fit in pretty well with the thirty-something crowd, except for the wedding bands that graced Brooklyn’s and my fingers.

I wasn’t big on drinking. It wasn’t a Christian thing for me; I just didn’t like the way alcohol tasted. It was the ambience that turned me on here. I was intrigued by this crowd of folks,
meeting and greeting, navigating through a social world I’d never been part of. Not that I wanted to—I wouldn’t trade my life with Adam for anything, especially since most here were striving to get to where Adam and I were.