Champagne Life (21 page)

The entire front room was trashed, as if someone had a party and forgot to clean it up. If only that were the case.

Chairs were overturned, papers scattered on the floor and the kitchen drawers ransacked. Surprisingly, the bedrooms were practically left untouched; only a few small missing items.

“We'll file this police report and let you know if anything comes up,” a portly officer with red hair said. “I don't see evidence of forced entry. Does anyone else have a key?”

“Just my husband.”

Jeremy stepped between the officer and me. “When will we hear something?”

“You the husband?” the officer asked.

“No.”

“You'll hear from us when we find out something. That may be tomorrow, it may be next week.”

“And it may not be at all,” Jeremy said, irritated. “What the hell kind of scam are you guys running around here?”

The officer raised his brow. “I understand you're upset, sir—”

“Upset nothing. In case you don't understand, this is a robbery and well, gee, I assumed you were supposed to catch, I don't know, say, THE ROBBERS!”

“Relax,” I told him. “It's not their fault. I'm the idiot that didn't make sure the door was locked when I left.”

The officer cut his eyes from Jeremy and spoke to me. “Like I said, ma'am, we will be in touch when we hear something. You've listed everything that's missing, correct?” .

I nodded. Other than a few jewelry items and the laptop, everything else was in place. The officer had suggested it was probably a last minute robbery because of the few smaller items taken.

“Do you have someplace to stay?” the officer asked.

The officer's question was direct, but what I heard was,
I wouldn't stay here if I were you in case they decided to come back and finish what they started.

“My husband should be home soon.”

The officer cleared his throat and handed me a card. “There have been a string of robberies in this area over the past several weeks. I strongly suggest you change your locks. If you do not feel comfortable staying alone—when your husband is not here—have friends stay with you. Do you have any questions?”

I shook my head and took his card. “Thank you.”

Stay with friends?
I haven't had a good friend in years, since getting married. Aside from DeShaun, and I guess now Jeremy, I kept to myself. I had acquaintances when I worked at the bank, but as for friends I confided in, that wasn't really my taste.

“Do you have someone that can stay with you until your husband returns?” the officer asked.

“I can stay with her until then,” Jeremy offered.

The officer apologized again for the situation and handed me another business card. As he gathered up the other officers to leave, I looked down at his card.

J.M. & Sons

Specializing in Locks for:

Homes

Business

Tool Sheds

We Have the Lock for All Your Needs!

“Great. Another cost I can't afford.”

After the police officers left, Jeremy turned to me. “This must be the worst day for you. I'm really sorry.”

“Actually, it's not.” I said. “In third grade, Jalil Henderson didn't ask me to be his partner for the square dance showdown. He asked Penelope Miller, this freckle-faced, orange-haired little brat instead.”

Jeremy stared at me, trying to figure out what I was talking about.

“But then Penelope told Jalil no, and don't you know the little shit came back and asked me.”

“You said, no, right?”

“The hell I did. We square-danced for two hours straight. He
stepped on my toes the entire time, but the important thing was I got him, even if by default.”

“Is there a point to that story?”

“Nope.”

He looked at me for a second and then chuckled. I joined him. “What do you need me for?” he asked. “You can amuse yourself.”

“I have no idea what made me think of that.” I thought a moment. “Oh, wait. It was that pudgy police officer with the red hair.”

“Which one?”

“The one that dusted for fingerprints and gave me the card.”

“Oh.”

“I'm so tired, Jeremy. I don't even know which way is up anymore.”

Jeremy reached over and gave me a hug. It was awkward at first, but as I took a deep breath and relaxed, it felt more natural, comforting even. “Hang in there. It really does get better, I promise.”

Maybe it was going to get better someday, but today was not that day.

DeShaun barged through the front door. He looked at me and Jeremy. “What the hell is going on in here?”

“Why did I see the police leaving? Are you okay?” DeShaun shot a look at Jeremy.

“I got home from the interview and someone had broken in.”

“While you were here?” DeShaun asked, stunned. “Are you okay?'

I shook my head. “No, while I was at the interview. I'm all right.”

DeShaun looked around, as if he still couldn't believe what he was seeing. “How the hell did that happen?”

Jeremy stepped up. “It happens. The cop even said there were a string of robberies in the area.”

“Who are you?” DeShaun asked.

“This is Jeremy,” I told DeShaun.

“Who?”

“Jeremy. From the bank.”

DeShaun quickly gave Jeremy the once over, sizing him up from top to bottom. He then turned back to me. “So what exactly happened?”

“Somebody broke in,” Jeremy said. “They only got away with a few small items.”

DeShaun whipped back around to Jeremy. “I'm not talkin' to you, man.” He turned back to me. “As a matter of fact, I'm still trying to figure out why he's here in the first place.”

Jeremy took a step toward DeShaun. “I'm here because you weren't.”

DeShaun, in turn, stepped toward Jeremy. “What?”

I stood in between the both of them. “He's here because he's the one that gave me the information about the interview. He took me there.”

DeShaun looked around again. “I hope you got the job. You do know we let our insurance lapse. I'm still trying to figure out how this happened.”

“I left the door open. I'm sorry, DeShaun. I thought I locked it but—”

“Ah, man, Mimi. You did what?”

“I'm so sorry. I ran out of here so quickly, I don't think I locked the door. The police said there was no forced entry.”

DeShaun took a deep breath. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped. He took another deep breath. “I don't believe this shit! I don't believe you! I am busting my butt, and it's like you're trying to sabotage everything we have—or should I say everything we
don't
have.”

“That's not true,” I said, feeling hurt. “It was a mistake.”

“How many more mistakes can we afford to make, Naomi? Maybe you should've left everything on the front lawn to make it easier for the thieves.”

“Hey, man,” Jeremy interjected. “It was a mistake. It happens.”

“Why are you still standing in my living room, flapping your gums?”

I turned to Jeremy. “Thanks, but you can go.”

“Call if you need anything,” Jeremy said. He turned to DeShaun. “It really was a mistake that plenty people make.”

DeShaun shot him a warning look.

I grabbed Jeremy's elbow and started shuffling him toward the front door. “Thanks,” I whispered. When I got him out the door, I made sure to lock it.

I took a deep breath before turning back to DeShaun. “I'm sorry, baby.”

Then he did something I did not expect.

He grabbed hold of my wrist and pulled me to him, holding me close.

“Baby, I know you're sorry,” he said. “I'm glad you're okay. These are only things. It's not a big deal. It just seems like everything is getting so hard lately. Bills piling up, losing our jobs, everything. I hate the fact that I spend all my time, worrying about our next move.”

“Me too,” I said. “The good news is that whoever it was only took the smaller items. The police officer said it was probably a last minute thing.”

“If there was a bright side to this mess, that'd be it,” DeShaun said. “Don't worry. Everything will be fine.”

“How was the party?” If that rich lady popped him off a few extra bills, now would be the perfect time.

“It went okay.”

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Do you feel comfortable befriending her? You know, The Plan?” I asked. “The way you described her, I pictured this little old lady who felt entitled to everything, including you.”

He shrugged. “She's actually not that bad or that old.”

“Really?”

“At those parties, she was drunk most of the time, which was why she acted like she did.”

“Did she hit on you again?”

He shook his head. “Not this time.”

“Of course, she doesn't throw herself at your feet when we need her to,” I jokingly commented.

“She had issues with the caterer. I spent half the afternoon, hooking her up with a good price for the food. You remember D'Antonio's?”

“That's good. You saved the day. She should be thankful for that,
real thankful.”

“She was,” DeShaun said. “At the end of the night, she gave me five hundred dollars.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out four one-hundred-dollar bills and two twenty-dollar bills.

“What happened to the rest?”

“Oh, yeah.” He stepped into the foyer. Seconds later, he returned with two dozen brilliant red roses.

“Where did you get those at this hour?” I asked. “They're beautiful.”

“Thank goodness for all-night gas stations. I wanted to do something for you to make you feel better.”

“Thank you.” I gave him a peck on his lips. I took the roses upstairs with me to the bedroom. He followed.

He kicked off his shoes and headed into the bathroom for a quick shower. While he took his shower, I inspected the roses. For gas station roses, they were quite exquisite. When I heard the shower turn off, I yelled into the bathroom. “What's our next move?”

DeShaun exited the bathroom, along with a cloud of steam. His dripping wet body was wrapped only in a towel. “We'll play it by ear, I guess.”

“Are you really okay with this, DeShaun?” A little piece inside wanted him to not be all right with what was basically being a male escort, sans the sex. But we'd exhausted all other resources. What else could we do?

He shrugged and then nodded. He whipped off the towel and put on a pair of boxers and a white tee. He jumped into bed next
to me and then rolled over and flicked off the light. “G'night,” he said with his back to me.

After giving me those beautiful roses, I had expected him to want a little intimate time. After the day I had, I needed a little extra attention. Suffice it to say, I was a little disappointed when he turned to his side and pulled the sheets up to his chin.

“Oh, by the way,” DeShaun said, with his back still toward me. “Jenn asked me to service a progressive party for her.”

“That's great. I don't know what a progressive party is, but as long as money is flowing, I'm good with it.”

“She also had a pretty good suggestion.” His back was still to me.

“Yeah? What was that?”

“She thought now would be a good time to start a service business. I'm basically doing that now. I'll need some business cards. Other than that, I'm set. I don't need any advertising. With businesses like this, word-of-mouth is the best way to go.”

“Do you think that's a good idea at this time,” I said. “Starting a business is for when you've established yourself and have savings. You know, something to fall back on, just in case.”

“This is the perfect time. If not now, then when?”

Why was his back still to me?

“I'm just sayin'—”

“You know what? Maybe you're right,” he said. “Good night.”

I rolled over in bed and laid my head on the pillow. He must have been exhausted; within ten minutes, I heard snoring. I was up for another three hours, staring into the darkness, thinking about the strange but brief conversation I'd had with the back of my husband's head.

D
eShaun stood in the Herjavecs' doorway. He hesitated a moment before knocking. He felt guilty about having to lie to Naomi to get out of the house, but she would not have understood why he needed to attend the party to put out feelers for a possible business that she didn't even want him to start in the first place. Naomi couldn't see the long-term positives of starting this business. She only saw the money not filtering in right away. According to the business draft he and Jenn had briefly discussed, starting his own business was more practical than continuing to work for someone else. He would be doing something he loved. The money would eventually roll in.