Authors: Carl Weber
Lookin' For Luv (45 page)
“Oh, sure you have, Mr. Jefferson.” He looked over at Sylvia. “Haven’t you two met before?”
“No, I’d remember someone as handsome as him.” She gave Tyrone a look of reassurance to make him relax.
“You know, Sylvia, three weeks ago Mr. Jefferson filed a stolen badge report. Didn’t you, Mr. Jefferson?”
“Yes, sir, Dr. Johnson. I’m still trying to find that badge.”
Maurice reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a badge, tossing it to Tyrone.
“Is this your badge? I found it a couple of days ago.”
Tyrone looked at the serial numbers and smiled. “Yes, sir, this is mine. You don’t know how happy I am you found it. They were going to take three hundred dollars out of my next check to replace it.” His relief was short-lived.
“Let me tell you how I found it. You two will get a real kick out of this. My wife here’s been gone from the house for about two weeks, and she’s got my car.” He smiled wickedly at her. “So now I’m forced to drive her car. Well, the other day I get in real fast and sit down. Out of nowhere, I get this sharp pain in my ass.”
“Isn’t that ironic?” Sylvia laughed out loud. “You’ve been a pain in my ass all my life.”
“I reach down in between the seats and I find your badge, Mr. Jefferson. Any idea how it got there?” Maurice’s eyes went back and forth from Sylvia to Tyrone. The two of them were in shock. “So how long have you two been fucking?”
“Probably about the same amount of time you’ve been fucking those girls from 1-900-BLACK-LUV,” Sylvia retorted.
Maurice was shocked that she knew about the date line. “Listen, Sylvia, my argument is not with you. It’s with Mr. Tyrone Jefferson over here.”
“Oh, your argument is with me all right, because he’s not the one divorcing you, I am.” She smirked.
“Divorce? You can’t be serious.”
Maurice was visibly shaken by her last words. He had always believed in her unconditional love. He never thought things between them would get to the point of divorce.
“Oh, yes, I can. My lawyers plan on serving you with papers this afternoon.”
“This is all your fault, Jefferson.” Maurice stood and pointed his finger in Tyrone’s face. “And from this day forward I can promise you a life of fucking hell. Get the fuck out my office. You’re fired.”
“Don’t you fire me, Maurice. I don’t give a fuck how mad you are. Transfer me, suspend me, but don’t you fire me. I’ve got two little girls whose mothers depend on the money I send them.”
“If you’re so worried about your kids, tell my wife you’re never going to see her again. Tell her that she needs to go home to her husband and work things out. Otherwise, I promise you will never work security in the state of New York again.”
“Fuck you, Maurice! He doesn’t need you or this shittyass job. Tyrone’s an artist. He’ll make it with or without your job. Besides, you don’t have the power to fire him.”
Tyrone thought about it. “You know what, Maurice? Sylvia’s right. You have no legitimate reason to ask the board to fire me. Fuck you!” He embraced Sylvia.
“You think I’m going to let you get away with this, Jefferson?” Maurice snapped a pencil in his hands. “That’s my wife we’re talking about.” He slammed his hand on the desk, frightening Sylvia.
Tyrone grabbed Maurice by the tie, pulling him sharply down against his desk. “Not only do I think I’m going to get away with it, I already have. And don’t think I forgot you tried to rape her.” He let go of the tie when Sylvia tapped him on the shoulder.
“Forget him, he’s not worth the effort,” she whispered.
Maurice stood up and straightened his clothes. “So this is what it’s come to, huh, Sylvia? You’d rather be with some scumbag security guard from the projects than with me?”
“Yeah, that about sums it up” She hugged Tyrone.
“All right, then. I want your shit out of my house by the end of the week.”
“Your house?” She took a deep breath to calm herself. “You know what, Maurice, I’ll gladly take my stuff out of that house. It’s got nothing but bad memories in it anyway”
“Oh, and I’m not letting you have any of my money either.”
“Your money? Ha! Daddy left that money to me.” Sylvia sat calmly in her chair and checked her manicure. “Besides, my lawyer told me to take all the money out of the bank before I came over here. I hope you have lunch money, because all our joint accounts are closed.”
“You bitch!”
Maurice tried to jump across his desk but was met by Tyrone, who shoved him back.
“Don’t even think about it or I’ll break your pretty ass in half.”
“You two think you’re really cute, don’t you? Well, don’t worry. I’ve got enough cash squirreled away until my lawyers can get the money you’ve taken.” Maurice slammed his fist on his desk, then pointed his finger at Tyrone. “But you, Jefferson, you’re finished around here.”
There was a knock at the door and Miles, head of school security, walked in without waiting for an answer.
“Miles, just the man I wanted to see. Can you escort Mr. Jefferson off the premises? Once I talk to the superintendent, he won’t be working with us.”
“You don’t have to talk to anybody. I quit.” Tyrone kissed Sylvia just to piss Maurice off as he walked out the door.
Miles could feel the tension in the room as he watched Tyrone walk out of the office with his arm around Maurice’s wife. He had no idea what had just happened, but he had other business to attend to. He stood in front of Maurice’s desk and stared at the man.
“What is it, Miles?”
“Dr. Johnson, I think we have a bigger problem than Jefferson.”
“Not another fight?”
“No, sir, it’s the police, and they wanna speak to you.” Miles went to the door and gestured for the two plainclothes policemen to enter.
“Are you Maurice Johnson?” the taller of the cops asked.
“Yes.” Maurice nodded.
“Do you own a 1999 Mercedes license plate 451-LHJ?”
“Yes, why?” Maurice felt a little chill.
“We’ll ask the questions Mr. Johnson,” the shorter cop told him.
“Do you know this girl?” The taller officer handed Maurice a Polaroid.
Not this shit again,
Maurice thought. He’d left the woman asleep in his cabin in Vermont over the weekend.
Maurice thought. He’d left the woman asleep in his cabin in Vermont over the weekend.
“Yes, officer, I know her. Her name is Valerie Gordon. We went out this weekend.”
“Well, Mr. Johnson, Ms. Gordon says you raped her.”
Maurice laughed. “Does taking your clothes off and straddling a man till you have a climax constitute rape? ’Cause that’s what happened, officer.”
“Well, sir, that’s not the version Miss Gordon reported to us, so you’ll have to come answer some questions.”
“Look, this can all be cleared up very easily,” Maurice said confidently. “I have a videotape of our lovemaking on which I’m sure you will clearly see it was consensual.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” The officer smiled at his partner. “And just where is this tape, sir?”
“It’s in the safe in my home. I can take you there to get it right now if you’d like.”
“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Johnson. But just to make sure I’m getting this right. You are admitting to having sex with Miss Gordon?”
“Yes, I did have sex with her, but it was consensual.”
“Mr. Johnson, would you place your hands behind your head?”
“What? Why?” Maurice pulled his hands away from the officer.
“You’re under arrest for the rape of Valerie Gordon.”
“I didn’t rape her! I told you it was consensual. Look at the tape.”
“Valerie Gordon couldn’t consent, Mr. Johnson. She’s only sixteen, and that makes you a statutory rapist among other things.”
“She told me she was twenty-one!” Maurice cried.
“Next time maybe you’ll ask for ID. If there is a next time.” The tall officer chuckled.
Maurice was in shock as the officers cuffed him and read him his rights. He was led out of the school in handcuffs for the entire student body and faculty to view. And if that wasn’t embarrassing enough, Tyrone and Sylvia were standing at the school exit when the police brought him out of the building.
The next day Sylvia pulled her car into an illegal parking space and ran up the stairs to Tyrone’s apartment. She dropped her key three times before getting it in the door, and she was bubbling with excitement as she finally turned the knob. She’d just left the post office, where she received a very important certified letter.
“Tyrone!” she screamed, bursting into the studio apartment. Tyrone was sitting at his easel, painting a picture of his two daughters, and immediately jumped out of his chair.
“What? What is it?” he asked, concerned. “Somebody bothering you outside?”
“No,” she said breathlessly as she raced toward him, “but I’ve got the answer to all your dreams right here in my hand.” She waved the manila envelope in the air.
“What are you talkin’ about, Syl?” She reached into the envelope and pulled out a smaller one, addressed to Tyrone. She handed it to him with a huge grin.
Tyrone ripped the envelope open quickly and pulled out a letter.
Dear Mr. Jefferson,It was a pleasure speaking to your agent, Sylvia Johnson. She has been a good friend for years and, I must say, a very tough negotiator. As you know, we had preliminary talks at Bernard memorial before “Children of Color” was destroyed. Now that I’ve had the opportunity to see your portfolio, I would like to offer you an exclusive contract to handle your work. Enclosed you will find a check for $100,000 as an advance. Ms. Johnson will be express-mailed the remaining contracts within the next few days.I look forward to having you as part of the Walter Black family of artists.Sincerely,Walter Black, Jr.
“Is this what I think it is?” Tyrone’s eyes were wide with wonder.
Sylvia nodded, waving the check for him to see.
Tears began to roll down Tyrone’s face. He stood speechless with the woman he loved, staring at the picture he’d been painting of his daughters. Sylvia wrapped her arms around him, grateful that all the pieces were finally falling into place for her man.
36
ANTOINE AND KEISHA
Antoine sat in his living room, staring at an unopened envelope from the Washington, D.C., school district. Impressed by the recent effort Tyrone made to further his art career, Antoine had decided to take a step up the education ladder and try for an administrative position. He had sent his resumé to over a dozen districts that had advertised openings for school principals. In the last two weeks he had received five envelopes similar to the one he was holding in his hands, and he was afraid this would be another nicely worded rejection. When he just couldn’t stand the suspense any longer, he tore open the envelope and read the letter inside.
Dear Mr. Smith,Thank you very much for interviewing with the greater Washington, D.C., school district. After long consideration, we would like to offer you the position of principal of our new high school for literature and mathematics. As you probably know, the board was impressed with your curriculum ideas and strategies for increasing S.A.T. test scores, evidenced by your success in increasing the scores in your present school.We understand that a decision of this magnitude takes time, so we don’t expect an answer right away. But please understand that the district would like to have someone in place by the end of this school year. I look forward to hearing your answer within the next few weeks.Sincerely,John DiamondSuperintendent of theWashington D.C. Schools
Other books
Duke of Scandal by Adele Ashworth
The Sequin Star by Belinda Murrell
The Only Road by Alexandra Diaz
Phantom Prey by John Sandford
Blood & Tacos #3 by Kroese, Rob, La Tray, Chris, Robinson, Todd, Elliott, Garnett, Mertz, Stephen
Dare to Be a Daniel by Tony Benn
My Serbian Wolf by Charisma Knight
Half the Kingdom by Lore Segal
Dark Destroyer by Kathryn Le Veque
Pop Tarts: Omnibus Edition by Brian Lovestar