Champagne Life (18 page)

From the corner of his eye, he watched her put on the sunglasses, wondering why she even bothered, seeing as the dark clouds overhead covered the sun. Her hands trembled as she lit the cigarette and took a long drag.

He cautiously drove down the road, toward I-95 North. By the time they hit the highway, he felt completely comfortable behind the wheel.

“This truck totally suits you,” Jenn said. “You should get one.”

DeShaun laughed. “Okay. I'll get one next week.”

“Is the smoke bothering you?” She took another puff. “I don't really smoke, only when my nerves are frazzled…oh, and when I drink sometimes.”

“No, that's fine,” DeShaun lied. He hated smoking, and with the windows up, the AC only blew the smoke around in the small confined space When he couldn't stand it any longer, he cracked the window some. She didn't seem to notice.

He was glad when she finished the last of the cigarette and put it out in an ashtray. He was glad until she reached into her purse and pulled out another one. “You sure it's okay I smoke?”

Once again, he nodded.

Speckles of rain hit the windshield. DeShaun stared at the road, concentrating on the cars in front of him while Jenn stared out of the window, puffing away on the cigarette. He stepped on the gas, the engine purred. It surprised him how easy it was to drive the truck.

He glanced over at Jenn, who continued staring out of the window,
however, along with puffing away on the cigarette she had now started to wring and pick at a tattered tissue.

“Is everything all right?” he asked.

“Do I look
that
worried?” She took another puff. “I thought I was hiding it. Berti left this party up to me, and I don't want it to fall apart, especially where business is concerned.”

Business?
DeShaun thought this was a party for her birthday.

To make better time, he weaved in and out of traffic, careful to keep to the speed limit. No way did he want to get popped by the police while driving around in her Range Rover.

“Want to hear some music?” He was making an attempt to relax the tension-filled atmosphere.

“Sure.” She reached into the glove compartment and shuffled through a handful of CDs. When she didn't find one she liked, she hit the satellite button on the dash. Bossa nova music filled the truck.

Mimi loved bossa nova.

Jenn pressed a few buttons and stopped on one station. DeShaun heard the start of a familiar beat.

“Are you serious?” he asked.

“What? You don't like Notorious B.I.G.?”

He was stunned. “You do?”

“An Armenian woman can't like rap?”

“I didn't say that,” he began. “I just meant—” He paused. That's exactly what he meant.

“Truth? I only listen to it to bug Berti. He hates rap with a passion. It pisses him off every time we get into the car and I put this station on. Immature, I know, but it makes me smile when he fumes for miles. He never says anything, though. He doesn't want to give me the satisfaction. He gets even more upset when I start rapping to it.”

“You rap to Biggie? Next, you're going to tell me you've been to a PAC concert.”

“Ain't nuthin' but a gangsta party.”

He laughed.

“You haven't seen anything yet,” she said, holding her finger in the air. She listened for a second and then rapped in sync with Biggie,
“Nothing left to do but send her home to you, I'm through, can you sing the song for me, Boo?”

DeShaun burst out laughing. “Wow! Just wow on that one.”

“You should see how red Berti's face gets when I start rapping.” She chuckled. “It's hilarious.”

DeShaun shook his head. “I don't get it.”

“Get what?”

“I don't understand your marriage.”

She looked out the window and took another drag. “That makes two of us.”

The rain started beating down harder. DeShaun flicked on the wipers. “Do you have the tent set up at the house already?” he asked. “That should've been done before I got there.”

She nodded, still looking out the window. “Uh huh.”

He glanced over at her. Somewhere on the expressway, between the Girard Avenue and Broad Street exits, she had taken off her sunglasses. He couldn't tell if it was sadness or fatigue in her eyes.

“We're almost there.” He stepped on the gas, keeping an eye on the speedometer. He let up off the accelerator when he realized he was doing over eighty-five in the smooth ride.

“Can I tell you something?” Jenn asked.

“Yeah.”

“Do you know how I found out about my own surprise party?”

DeShaun shook his head.

“Berti told me. That son of a bitch actually told me.”

“Why?”

“Because my so-called surprise party was actually a client meet-up.
Supposedly, my birthday was the only day all his clients could get together. What bullshit! I was so pissed when that bastard came home from work one night and told me he needed my help to arrange everything. He had the nerve to disappear and leave me to handle all the crap. That takes some real balls.”

DeShaun let out a sigh of relief when he pulled into D'Antonio's parking lot. “We're here.”

Jenn rolled her eyes, opened the car door and stepped down onto the cemented driveway of the restaurant. “Speaking of dealing with assholes,” she commented as she got out and slammed the door. “Shall I handle it or you?”

“I got this.”

I
had started looking through the online want ads, but spent the last twenty minutes surfing through online gossip columns, starting with MediaTakout.com and TheYBF.com.

We had enough funds left over to pay either the water bill or the Internet service, but after that we were tapped out. We opted for Internet because that was due two days before the water bill. We figured in those two days, we would buy a few lottery tickets, hit the jackpot and then have money to pay the water bill and purchase an Escalade.

That's what happened when you were broke—you started living in the fantasy world until they shut off your water. Then you crashed back down to earth with a gigantic
splaaaaat
and shuffled around more bills to buy more time.

Before getting the bank job, I had worked at a telecommunications company for years before they laid me off. I forgot what it was like to have to search through endless classifieds, trying to find a job that fit my top three criteria; location, position type and salary. I started my search with jobs in close proximity. An hour later, that prerequisite was scratched off the list unless I wanted to become a dog groomer or a part-time mechanic. Two hours into my search, position type was a done deal, too. I was trying hard not to budge on my third criteria; salary. I needed to make a certain amount to break even. However, that amount kept getting lower
and lower with each passing hour. By the time early afternoon hit, I was hovering dangerously close to the salary I made when I was babysitting in high school.

When the phone rang, I hopped up, thankful for the excuse to take a break.

“What are you doing today?” It was Jeremy. He sounded so upbeat, which was something I needed, especially after dealing with the dismal task of searching for a job. So far, I had e-mailed four resumes. One job had already e-mailed back, asking for an interview. Of course, it was the customer service job I was the least enthusiastic about, but, at this point, I was not about to get snooty about any position. “I was going to spend the day sending out resumes. Why?”

“I have a lead for you. A friend of mine downtown told me that her boss is looking for a new secretary.”

“Where?”

“At the Millworks on Fifty-fifth and Chestnut. I told her about you and she said you should come down right away to meet them. They're looking to hire someone ASAP.”

“I know where that is,” I said. “But DeShaun has the car. Can they wait until tomorrow?”

“Nope. According to my friend, one of the big bosses is leaving tomorrow for vacation.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course, they are.”

“I'm not doing anything. I can take you,” Jeremy offered. “How long do you need to get ready?”

“Are you sure? I don't want to take you away from anything.”

“Not at all,” he said. “I spent the morning signing up for my core courses for grad school. I'm done for now. And before you ask, I received a partial scholarship and will have my loan deferred.”

“I wasn't going to ask, but it's great that you have all this planned out. Congratulations.”

“So, let me take you. It's no problem at all.”

“Are you sure?”

“How long do you need to get ready?”

I checked the time. “Half-hour okay?”

“A half-hour? That better include a shower. I don't want you funkin' up my car.”

“Shut up!” I laughed. “Just be here in a half.”

“Cool. See you then.”

I hung up the phone.
Yessss!
If I played my cards right, I may have a job as early as this afternoon.

“Wow. You look…professional,” Jeremy said when I opened the door.

I had decided to go full out for this interview, busting out the flattening iron and going Halle Berry style, which was the reason I was running late. “I'll be just another minute.” I ran upstairs to the bedroom to find my diamond studs, a college graduation gift from my parents.

“You showered, right?” Jeremy called from the front door.

“Shut up!”

When I went back out into the living room, Jeremy was sitting on the couch, flipping through an
Essence
magazine.

I held out my arms and twirled. “This look okay?” I dug in the back of my closet and found a crisp white blouse that was like new. I had only worn it twice. My pencil skirt hugged my curves in all the right places but wasn't too tight. I didn't mind Payless, but to
be on the safe side, I picked out the one pair of black heels I'd bought from Nordstrom four years ago, when money wasn't as tight.

“You got a piece of string on your skirt.”

I reached down and plucked off the string. “Now?”

“You look good.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door. “Now come on. We're taking the train downtown. My friend says it's only two blocks away from the station and I'd probably spend more time trying to find parking.”

I shrugged. “Sounds okay to me, but, if that's the case, I could have taken the train myself. You didn't have to come all the way up here.”

“I know,” he said. “I was trying to give you moral support.”

“Aw, thanks.”

“Plus, I figured I can get a free lunch out of you when the interview's done. I missed breakfast this morning trying to rush and get to you.”

“You are a lie,” I said. “You didn't call me until the afternoon, so if you missed breakfast that was on you.”

“Whatever. It's the least you can do.”

I smiled, feeling better than I had felt in a long time. Things seem to be finally falling into place. Two days ago, the phone was cut off and we had to decide between paying the credit cards or turning the phone back on. We made the right decision. Jeremy never would have been able to call me about this interview if we had decided to avoid a lousy late charge on the credit card. Besides, I never paid the credit cards on time when we did have jobs. Why start now?

I had been in such a hurry, I didn't have time to call DeShaun and let him know what was going on. “Hold on. I have to make a quick call.” I wanted to see how his day was going.

Jeremy must've read my mind. He grabbed my arm and said, “You
can call your husband from the car on the way to the station. We have ten minutes or we will officially be late.”

He pulled me by the elbow and rushed me toward the door. I scrambled to grab my purse from the hallway table as he shuffled me out the door.

“
D
o you want to wait in the car?” DeShaun asked.

Jenn shook her head. “No. I want to see the bastard's face when I confront him.” She narrowed her eyes and stood with her hands on her hips, trying her best to look ferocious. Instead, she looked like a little girl, mad at her best friend for stealing her favorite doll.

DeShaun laughed. “You are funny.”

Jenn cracked a smile. “Seriously, I'm not going to let this idiot get away with trying to rip me off.”

DeShaun shook his head. “Stay here. I'll be back.” When he reached the door to D'Antonio's, he looked back at Jenn. She was fixing her hair and makeup in the rearview mirror.
So much for telling off D'Antonio,
he thought.

Several minutes later, DeShaun returned to the Range Rover. Jenn was meticulously filing her nails. When she saw DeShaun, she quickly shoved the file back into her purse. “What happened? What did the jerk say?”