The Deal, the Dance, and the Devil (28 page)

He was frowning before I finished. “Two million? Ms. Langston, this check is for two hundred and fifty thousand.”

“What?” It wasn’t rudeness that made me snatch it out of his hand; it was shock. I studied the check this time. Just like before, I saw the two and the five, but I hadn’t counted the zeros. I hadn’t paid attention to the commas. I hadn’t even read the line where it clearly said “Two Hundred and Fifty Thousand.”

“Dang! This is a mistake.”

Mr. Grey looked at me as if he wondered what I expected him to do about that.

“Okay, look,” I said with a sigh. “Somebody must’ve prepared the check for her … she’ll just write me another one. I’ll
deposit this.” He nodded, and then I added, “Would you mind making me a copy before you deposit it?”

“No problem.”

The tip of my shoe tapped the desk as I waited. I couldn’t believe Shay-Shaunté had made this kind of mistake. It was ridiculous—especially since she’d also kept Adam for two hours longer than she was supposed to.

Mr. Grey returned with a copy of the check and my deposit slip. “I look forward to hearing from you later this week.”

Even though I was annoyed, once I left the bank I left my thoughts about the money there, too. Although I wasn’t crazy about Shay-Shaunté, I knew who she was. Her word was her bond. She did business fairly, never cheated anyone. She wouldn’t cheat me.

So, money wasn’t the problem. My problem was all about Shay-Shaunté
and
Adam. And their weekend. And how the two had shared time that I knew nothing about.

I had to decide how I was going to play this. A good part of how the day went down depended on Shay-Shaunté—and how she came at me. I didn’t know if she was gonna be professional or if she was gonna try to come strong.

Whichever, whatever, I was ready for her.

Chapter 47

“G
IRL
!” R
ACHEL SANG.
“W
HERE YOU GOING
?”

Rachel’s desk was right in front of the elevator banks, so as soon as I stepped off, she’d jumped up from her chair.

Her hands were resting on her ample hips when she shook her head and grunted, “Umph. Umph. Umph. You look good.”

“Thank you,” I said, then added, “happy new year.”

“Forget about a happy new year for me, it must’ve been a beast for you.”

My smile dimmed at that, but I wasn’t about to tell Rachel anything. So, all I did was lower my voice and say, “Let me get to my office before she—”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about Shay-Shaunté,” Rachel said, all loud. “She’s not even here.”

I slowed my steps. “She’s not in yet?”

“Nope.”

Okay, something was up. In the six years that I’d worked here, Shay-Shaunté had always been the first one in and the
last one out. The joke was that she slept here. So, why was today different? Why, after a weekend with Adam, was she late getting into work?

“Has she called?”

“Yeah, but she didn’t give me anything to gossip about,” Rachel said. “Just said that she had to make a run.”

My stomach did a somersault. Make a run? Like Adam!

Oh, my God!

“Evia, you okay?”

I didn’t even realize that I’d closed my eyes. I opened them and waited until the fuzzy lines around Rachel faded before I said anything. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“It looked like I lost you.” Then she asked, “So, what do you think Ms. Shay-Shaunté is up to?”

I didn’t even want to know.

Rachel said, “Maybe it had something to do with her birthday weekend.”

Oh, God!

“Maybe her birthday weekend isn’t over,” Rachel giggled, “and she’s having a hard time getting out of bed.
Hard
time. Get it?”

“Rachel!”

“What?”

“Do we have to do this?”

“What? Talk about Shay-Shaunté? We do it all the time.”

“Well, I don’t want to do it this morning.”

“Happy new year, ladies.”

Slowly, I turned and looked right at Shay-Shaunté. I didn’t know how she’d sneaked up on us like that; I hadn’t even heard the elevator doors open.

“Happy new year,” Rachel said in a tone that didn’t sound like she’d just been talking about the woman. “I hope it was a good one. And your birthday, too.”

I knew Rachel was fishing, but the only good thing about Shay-Shaunté was that she would never tell anything.

She gave Rachel more than I expected when she said, “I had a great New Year’s and an even better birthday.” She spoke to Rachel, but her eyes were on me. “I hope you ladies had a good vacation, too.”

“Oh, yes, definitely,” Rachel said.

I nodded because I wasn’t yet ready to speak. This morning was already off-track. I was supposed to have had a little time to myself. Go into my office, take off my coat, check my makeup before I had to face my boss.

“Great,” Shay-Shaunté said. “Then a good holiday was had by all. But,” she swayed toward her office, “it’s time to get back to work. Evia, would you mind joining me?”

“Uh …” That wasn’t the way I wanted to start our conversation, but that’s all that came out. “Uh … let me hang up my coat.”

“No, you can keep on your coat or hang it up in here; I need to talk to you now.”

I followed her, though I wasn’t sure how I was able to put one three-inch heel in front of the other. I was adding the equation: Adam’s mood last night, his silence, then a run this morning, plus Shay-Shaunté’s absence from the office because of a run this morning equaled what?

Shay-Shaunté paused at her office and stepped aside for me to walk in first. After she closed the door behind us, she took her time, sashaying across the room, her hips, like always, hypnotic.

I wondered if Adam had watched her this way. Had she swayed her body for him like this? Had she done it with her clothes on or off?

This was pure unadulterated torture. How was I supposed
to survive six months with Shay-Shaunté in front of my face? Every day!

“Evia?”

It wasn’t until she called my name that I realized that I hadn’t moved. “Evia? Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, why are you all the way over there?”

“I’m fine here.”

The lines on her face deepened. “So, you’re just going to stay there?”

“Yes.”

“Wearing your coat?”

“Yes.”

Shay-Shaunté paused, taking in all of my words. I hit the Replay button in my mind, and I wanted to slap myself. So much for being eloquent and elegant. I was acting like a fool. This was not the way to show her that I was totally unaffected by this weekend.

I wobbled across the room (in those doggone heels that were already hurting my feet) and took a seat.

“You can take off your coat,” she said.

I did.

Shay-Shaunté leaned back on her throne. Looked down on me and said, “Before we get into business, how’s Adam?”

My mouth opened wide, but not to speak. It was just my shock showing. She’d never asked me about Adam before, and now she was asking like this was going to be an everyday occurrence. As if she had to care about his well-being. As if the two of us now shared one man.

Oh, no—it wasn’t going to be that way. We should’ve put an extra clause in the contract, something that said that after she slept with my husband, she could never mention his name again.

I said, “Adam? My husband.”

“Yes, your husband.”

“I didn’t say that for clarification. I was making a point—that Adam is my husband.”

Her eyes brightened and light lines appeared around her eyes. “You don’t have to remind me who he is,” she said, her face sparkling with her amusement. “I know him.” She stopped talking, but with her eyes, she added,
“I know him well.”
She waited a beat before repeating, “So, how’s Adam?”

She was pushing me. To go there. But I couldn’t. Because if I did, I just might bring Barry Farm with me. So to save her life, I changed the subject.

“There was a problem with the check,” I said as I reached into my bag for the copy.

“Really?”

My strategy worked, because her smile was gone—she was back to all business.

I handed her the paper, and she studied the copy of the check. “What’s the problem?”

I couldn’t say that she was stupid, because I hadn’t noticed it until the banker had pointed it out to me. “There’s a zero missing. You had the bank issue a check for two hundred and fifty thousand instead of two million, five hundred thousand.”

She shook her head. “No, the check is fine.”

My mouth opened wide. What kind of game was this chick playing? “What?”

“I said,” she spoke louder, as if I was hearing impaired, “the check is fine.”

The fact that she actually had the audacity to repeat it let me know that she was really going to try to play me and Adam. Did she forget that we had a contract? Trust and believe, I was gonna sue her behind, take this whole thing public if she didn’t come correct.

I said, “The deal was for five million,” reminding her of what she already knew.

“Yes,” she nodded, “that’s exactly what I gave you. Five million minus the taxes.”

The shock of her words was a force, shoving me back in the chair. “Taxes?”

“Yes,” she said in a tone that sounded like she thought I was stupid. “With the federal, D.C., Social Security taxes, and everything else, your take-home from the five million was two million seven hundred and fifty thousand.” She pushed the paper back toward me. “That’s exactly what I gave you.”

I had to wait until I could breathe. “You didn’t say anything about taxes.” I wondered if she could hear me, because I could hardly hear myself.

“I didn’t think I had to.” She frowned as if what she’d done was so obvious.

I said, “I thought this was a fee for services.”

“Yes.”

“Like a gift.”

“A gift?” It started out as a smile, then a giggle came through her lips before she leaned her head back and laughed. Laughed so hard that it scared me. Laughed so hard that it sounded diabolical. Exactly the way I’d sounded last night.

All I could do was wait. She wiped her eyes from the tears that spilled from the corners.

“Oh, my,” she said, giggles still escaping. “A gift.” She looked at me, her glee—at my expense—still all over her. “Please tell me that you were kidding?”

I wasn’t sure how I should play this, so I just sat there, glared at her. Hoped my look would intimidate her into doing what she was supposed to do.

But the only thing that happened was that she glared back. “You were aware that taxes had to be paid on that money, right?”

I didn’t say a word because I didn’t know; I hadn’t thought about it, and obviously, neither had Adam.

Shay-Shaunté continued, “Well, Uncle Sam is always gonna get his. If I had given it to you as a gift, then I would’ve been the one responsible for the taxes … and Evia, that wasn’t going to happen.”

“You set us up. You set this whole thing up so that we would assume it was a gift.”

“No, I didn’t. The contract was written on company letterhead, and then the checks were only made out to you, not Adam, because you’re my employee. And both checks were company checks. Payment from Ferossity to an employee.”

I sat there, taking in the truth of her words. Then I thought about the truth of mine—this witch
had
set us up!

My heart was pounding wildly when I said, “I would’ve never done this for only two million.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Two million seven hundred and fifty thousand.”

“No.” I shook my head.

“Oh, please.” Shay-Shaunté waved her hand. “Look at how you’ve already deposited this check.” She pointed to the copy on her desk.

How did she know that?

Maybe she had some kind of alert on her phone. Still, I pushed my shoulders back. “I cannot believe—”

She held up her hand, stopping me. “Before you start, think about what you did.” She paused. “You … sold … your … husband. And the truth of it, Evia”—she lifted her hips and leaned so far across the glass that I thought she was going to climb across the desk to get at me—“is that you would have done this for whatever I offered.”

I sat still as a stone.

She kept on, “Two million, three million …” Finally she sat back down. Added, “I was just being generous when I offered you five million.”

Generous! It was my turn to pop out of my chair. It was my turn to lean across her desk. And I went straight hood. The only thing that was missing was the switchblade that I carried back in the day. In my best poltergeist voice, I said, “Witch, you better give me my money!”

She sat back, folded her hands in her lap. “Or what?”

There were so many ways to answer that … like, I will cut you, I will beat you until not even your mother will recognize you, I will bury you where bodies are never found—and I know guys who would do that for me for just twenty bucks … I wanted to say all kinds of things like that.

But I knew enough to know that those words, that threat in today’s times would land me right in jail. This was all about the money. I needed to keep my focus there.

So I said, “If you don’t give me the money …” I paused. What would I do? In a softer voice, I said, “If you don’t give me the money, I’m outta here.”

She shook her head as if my comeback was pathetic. But as I looked into her face, I began to think that maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing. We wouldn’t have the money we’d thought we’d have, but now I could walk out of here and not have to deal with Shay-Shaunté anymore.

“Yeah, I’m outta here!” I repeated.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

I smirked.

She added, “What would Adam think?”

I wanted to cut her for real. My jaw was tight when I said, “It doesn’t matter what Adam thinks, this is about you and me. But you know what? Adam is
my husband.
He’ll support me.”

Her silent smile said much more than words could. Like she knew things about my husband that I didn’t know. But I knew it was all a game to make me feel insecure. So I just asked, “Are you going to pay me?”

“I already did.”

“Then I’m out.” I whipped around and marched, grateful that I
had
deposited that check this morning.