After Hours (30 page)

G
rand Central Station was teeming with people arriving and departing and those waiting to meet others. Dina Gordon was one of those waiting. She'd called Payne Jefferson and told him to meet her in the waiting room at exactly two o'clock. She'd gotten there at one, hoping Payne would arriver earlier than the appointed time.

She went completely still when she saw him weaving his way through the throng. He reminded her of a teenage boy with his baggy jeans, too-large white T-shirt and top-of-the line running shoes. A strap of a backpack was slung over one shoulder. Her eyebrows lifted when she noticed a fading bruise over his left eye.

Reaching into her handbag, she took out a manila envelope. “It's all there.” He took it, unzipped the backpack and slipped it in. “We're done, Payne. Over. And if I hear that you've gone anywhere near my grandmother or my daughter, I'll make you sorry you ever drew breath.”

Payne reached for her left hand and stared at her ring. “It looks as if you've done well for yourself, Adina.”

She snatched her hand back. “Better than you think.” Her eyes narrowed. “Have a nice life, PJ.” Turning on her heels, she walked away and was swallowed up by the crowd.

Payne hadn't thought she would come up with the money. And if she hadn't, he still wouldn't have done anything to her grandmother. He'd busted up Mrs. Jenkins's place because Adina had ignored his pages. If she'd said she wanted out, then he would've let her out. Besides, he had several new recruits he'd been training to replace Adina. Not only was she getting old, but she'd become a risk. It was only a matter of time before she would be arrested and then the police would come looking for him. Bitches didn't know when to keep their mouths shut.

What she didn't know was that it was Payne Jefferson who'd put out the contract on Adina Jenkins. It was the only way he could get rid of her without having it traced back to him. She'd saved her own life when she'd fled Brooklyn.

He knew it would be a long time—if ever—before she would come back.

I
t was a warm October Sunday morning when Dina Gordon exchanged vows with Lancelot Londell Haynes on the patio of the house belonging to Ronald and Karla King, with Judge Rhys Weichert presiding over the ceremony. Karla stood in as her matron of honor, and Lance had asked Cory to stand in as his best man.

The two men had begun a business relationship because Cory was in the process of starting up his own quality-assurance firm

Adele Haynes's doctor wouldn't permit her to fly given her advancing crippling arthritis, so Layne had informed his mother he was bringing his bride to Charleston, South Carolina, so she could meet her.

Pulling her to his chest, Lance kissed his wife, lifting her off her feet. “I love you, Mrs. Haynes.”

Dina tightened her arms around her husband's neck and deepened the kiss. “And I love you, Mr. Haynes.”

A smattering of applause reminded them they weren't alone. Turning, they accepted the good wishes from their friends.

Lance, resplendent in a navy-blue pin-striped suit, a platinum tie, a white shirt with French cuffs and black leather slip-ons, smiled down at his wife. She looked like a delicate doll with a simple silk platinum slip dress ending at the knee. She'd fashioned her hair in a twist on the nape of her neck, festooned with a large, fragrant orchid. Her small feet were encased in a pair of gray silk embroidered pumps. Her bouquet was a profusion of orchids, gardenias and baby roses.

The Kings had opened their home for the ceremony and Sybil had prepared the food for the small, intimate reception. Smiling, Lance accepted handshakes and pats on the back and Dina hugs and kisses.

Dina looped her hand over the sleeve of Lance's jacket and smiled up at him. A photographer captured the moment for posterity. “I just remembered something,” she whispered.

“What is it?”

“I should've told Sybil to make a few honey-glazed doughnuts. You promised me I could let Honey Dip out of the closet on our wedding night.”

Shaking his head, Lance struggled not to laugh. “Do you know you almost killed me with that stunt?”

“No, I didn't.”

“Yes, you did, baby girl.” He escorted her to a long table set up under a white tent decorated with white flowers and ribbons. “You've got to be careful with the old man.”

Dina rested her head on his shoulder. “You're not old, Big Daddy. You're going to be around for a long time, long enough to see our children married.”

She knew she'd changed when she considered mother hood. Dr. Howe had given her the name of a fertility doctor who would harvest her eggs for an in-vitro-fertilization procedure.

She'd contemplated telling Lance everything about her past but decided to wait. She had time—they had time. In fact, they had the rest of their lives to learn not only to love but also to trust the other.

R
onald King clicked the button to download the e-mail attachment addressed to him. The subject line read: Do they look familiar?

He usually didn't check his personal e-mail for days, but because he was waiting for Karla to come home, he'd decided it was as good a time as any. A slight frown creased his forehead when the photographs popped up on the screen. Leaning closer, he clicked on the thumbnail and the photograph filled the screen.

A wave of heat, then chills, swept over him and Ronald thought he was having a heart attack. He clicked the next one, then the next, as bile rose in his throat and threatened to choke him. He couldn't believe it! He didn't want to believe it!

Twin emotions of rage and pain warred within him as he stared at the damning photographs. However, rage won out. He hit the forward icon, then scrolled through the directory for two other e-mail addresses. Gripping the mouse tightly, he pressed the button, forwarding the photographs. Then he leaned back in his chair to wait for his wife.

 

Karla walked into the house, confused. The house was dark. She'd had automatic timers that turned the lights on and off at different intervals. She knew Ronald was home because his truck was parked in the garage.

“Baby,” she called out as she flicked on lamps. She made her way into the home office. The light from the computer monitor shone eerily in the dark.

“Don't turn on the light.”

“What's wrong, Ronald? Why are you sitting in the dark?”

Rising from his chair, he touched the mouse and the screen was filled with images that almost brought Karla to her knees. “Where did you get those?”

Someone had taken pictures of Chocolate Ice, Sparkle and Delectable in all of their physical glory. In one, Karla was smiling as she executed a back bend that contorted her upper body. In another, Sparkle executed her famous—or infamous—booty clap at the same time she smiled directly at the camera. And Delectable was caught in the act of planting her high-heel boot into the groin of a man writhing in ecstasy.

Stalking to her, Ronald closed the distance between them. “From my boyfriend.”

Karla felt as if the top of her head had exploded. “Your boyfriend!”

“Don't tell me you're going to have a bitch fit because I didn't get your permission to sleep with him.” His hands fisted. “If you were a man, I'd beat the shit outta you, Karla. But I did the next best thing.”

Karla closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “What did you do?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

Grabbing her arm, he forcibly pulled her over to the monitor. He hit a button. “Look at the e-mail address, baby. I forwarded those pictures to Cory and LL. I'm certain they'd like to know how their wives are spending their after hours.”

Karla felt a spasm squeeze her heart. She knew she'd be able to handle Ronald, but she wasn't so certain about Sybil and Cory and Dina and Lance.

Dina and Lance hadn't been married two weeks. The news would devastate him.

“You're a real bitch, Ronald.”

He gave her a sly smile. “It takes one to know one.”

They stared at each other until Karla turned on her heels and walked out. She'd come home early to celebrate her husband's birthday. Now she would sit and wait for the fallout from her friends' husbands.

S
ybil stared at the back of Cory's head as he sat at the computer workstation. He'd been working steadily on a project for the past two days. She knocked softly on the open door. “I'm going to bed, baby.”

Cory swiveled on his chair at his workstation to find his wife standing in the doorway. He was grateful for her interruption because his eyes were burning from spending hours in front of the monitor testing a new software program. His eyebrows lifted slightly. Sybil wore a short black silk nightgown with narrow straps and plunging neckline barely covering her full, lush breasts. It'd been a long time since she'd revealed so much flesh when retiring for bed.

He smiled. “You look nice.”

Sybil returned his smile. “When are you coming to bed?”

“I just have to check my e-mail, then I'll be in.”

“Don't make me wait too long.”

“I won't,” he promised.

Cory shut down the program and logged onto his personal e-mail account. A slight frown furrowed his forehead when he saw the subject line: Do They Look Familiar? with a download attachment icon. Recognizing Ronald King's address, he downloaded the message, realizing that Ronald had also sent Lance Haynes a copy.

“What the hell…” he whispered to himself when he stared at the photos filling the monitor. There was something vaguely familiar about the petite masked woman in green, but he couldn't remember where he'd seen her before.

Although the pictures weren't pornographic, they were definitely a turn-on. Noting the time on the e-mail, he reached for the telephone and dialed Ronald's cell.

“What's up with the e-mail attachment?” he asked when hearing Ronald's query.

“Don't you recognize your wife?”

Cory leaned closer to the monitor. “What are you talking about, King?”

“Look closely at the woman in black with the whip. Even though she's masked, don't you think she looks like Sybil?”

“No! How did you come up with that?”

“Because Karla is the one in brown.”

“You're kidding me?”

“Man, I wish I was. Karla used to be a pole dancer back in the day.”

“You're kidding?” Cory asked again.

“You don't know how much I wish I was kidding.”

Leaning back in his chair, Cory studied the photograph of a masked Karla King executing an incredible back bend. Karla had an incredible body, but of course he wasn't about to say that to Ronald. His gaze shifted to the dominatrix with her high-heel, booted foot pressed to the groin of a man who appeared to be enjoying his punishment.

“Did Karla say the other two are Sybil and Dina?”

“No.”

“Then why are you starting shit, King? Just because you can't control your wife that doesn't mean that mine or Lance's are out there swinging around poles. Besides, Sybil wouldn't have anything to do with violence or pain because she grew up with her father beating and raping her mother.”

“It's not about control.”

“Then what is it?”

“It's about trust. Karla promised me that she'd never go back to dancing.”

“Have you asked her why she's doing it again?” Cory asked.

There was a pause before Ronald's voice came through the earpiece again. “No. If I get into it with her, then I'm going to risk losing her. I don't know if you know, but we have an open marriage.”

“If that's the case, then what are you bitchin' about? She does her thing, while you do yours. You
are
doing your thing, aren't you?”

There came another beat of silence. “Yeah.”

“Let it go, friend. Maybe she'll stop now that you know.”

“That's what I'm hoping,” Ronald said.

“I think you made a mistake forwarding this crap to Lance. What are you trying to do? Mess up a marriage even before it gets started?”

“I'll let him know I forwarded it in error.”

“You do that. Look, I have to go. I hope everything works out between you and Karla.”

“Thanks.”

Cory ended the call, logged off and made his way into the bedroom. Sybil was in bed, reading. He sat down on her side of the bed. “Ronald King downloaded some pictures of three women who apparently were entertaining men. He thought one looked like you and the other Dina Haynes. He knows for certain that one is Karla.”

Sybil's impassive expression didn't change with Cory's announcement. “How does he know one was Karla?”

“She used to be a pole dancer, and when he confronted her she didn't deny it.”

Sybil's jaw dropped as she feigned shock. “No way!” Cory nodded. “I can assure you I've never been a pole dancer.”

“What about a dominatrix?”

A hint of a smile parted her lips. “Sybil Cumberland, a dominatrix. I don't think so. I can't even kill a bug. Why would I hurt another human being? I saw pain every day of my life, and I swore when I grew up that violence would not become a part of my life.”

Cory leaned over and brushed a kiss on her mouth. “That's what I told Ronald. He's going to e-mail Lance and let him know he sent the document in error.”

“Ronald must be going through an early midlife crisis. He should seek professional help.”

“You're probably right.”

Sybil rested her hand on Cory's cheek. “Take your shower and come to bed. I think it's time we start adding to our family.”

Cory fastened his mouth to the side of her neck. “That's what I've been waiting to hear.” He pushed off the bed and walked into the adjoining bathroom.

Sybil stared at the space where Cory had been.
Damn!
Someone must have used a cell phone camera to photograph their act. It was time to retire Delectable and go underground. She would continue to service E. Paul Redding, but only when his wife was on vacation.

She was happy that Cory trusted her completely. It was one of the reasons why she'd married him. Cory Cumberland was kind, gentle
and
trusting.

Sybil closed her book, placing it on the bedside table. She thought about Dina. The younger woman had kept her promise, and after Labor Day Sparkle the Green Fairy no longer existed. No amount of urging or the promise of higher fees could get her to change her mind.

Dina Haynes, nee Gordon, had done well for herself. She and Lance planned to move to Upper Saddle River before the end of the year. The invitation to a New Year's Eve celebration in their new home had arrived in yesterday's mail. The gathering would be the perfect end for an incredible year.

Throwing back a lightweight blanket, she went to retrieve her cell phone. She punched in a programmed number. The call lasted less than twenty seconds. She had to warn Dina about the e-mail. Dina's “I'll take care of it” was enough to ease Sybil's conscience. If she hadn't recruited her to become Sparkle, then Dina wouldn't be faced with having to explain her alter ego to her husband.

She returned to bed, feeling more confident. A silent voice told her that Dina Haynes was more than capable of taking care of her husband.