The Deal, the Dance, and the Devil (37 page)

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Authors: Victoria Christopher Murray

BOOK: The Deal, the Dance, and the Devil
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“Well, you were wrong, weren’t you?”

“There’s no way she can do this. What is she suing us for?” I asked, even as my eyes scanned the papers.

“What do you think?” he asked me, as if I was one of his children. “Breach of contract. She’s saying that she paid us the money and we didn’t do our part.”

“But we can tell the judge that she didn’t do her part.”

“She did!” Adam snapped. “She did everything she said she was going to do. And so did I.”

I had to swallow every bit of pride before I said, “Okay, I’ll go back. I’ll go back to Ferossity.”

When Adam laughed, I didn’t know what to do. So I stood there and repeated what I’d just said.

“I’ll go back to work for her and she won’t have anything to take us to court for.”

He stopped laughing long enough to say, “I think it’s a little too late for that, Evia.”

By any means necessary—that’s what I was thinking. I had to do whatever, however, to keep my family together, because we would never survive this lawsuit. Our marriage wouldn’t hold up to the way Adam would look at me every day with blame and indignation.

I grabbed the phone from the nightstand. “See,” I said, like a child with something to prove. “I’m calling her.”

I pressed the phone to my ear as Adam paced in front of me. When Rachel answered, I had no time for niceties; I asked her to put me straight through to Shay-Shaunté.

As I waited, I watched Adam soften; his shoulders relaxed, half the creases faded from his forehead, and a bit of hope shined in his eyes.

He said, “Do you think this will work?”

I nodded. “She wanted to make a point. She wants me to come back there.”

“Evia?” Shay-Shaunté said as if she was surprised to hear from me, though I doubted that. “How are you?”

Besides sending my husband to her, this was going to be the hardest thing I’d ever had to do. But I was back to doing for the greater good. As long as I kept that in mind …

“We got your … the papers. About the lawsuit.”

“I didn’t know they were going to be delivered today. I’m sorry, but you left me no choice.”

“Well, I’m calling to tell you to drop the lawsuit. I’ll come back to work”—I took a breath—“tomorrow.”

Two beats passed and then, “I’m sorry, Evia,” she said sweetly, “but your job is no longer available. I’ve already found someone to replace you.”

“Then why are you suing us!” I screamed.

“Calm down, baby,” Adam whispered in my ear. “Calm down.”

“Yes, calm down,” Shay-Shaunté said as if she was right there in our bedroom. “There is no need for you to get upset.”

I clenched my teeth to keep my voice low this time. “Why are you suing us?”

“For breach of contract,” she said, like she was surprised I was asking. “You didn’t fulfill your part. You didn’t stay until I found a new assistant.”

This witch was crazy. She was out for blood, out to destroy my family. But I couldn’t let her suck the life out of us, so I had to try another way.

“Shay-Shaunté,” I began, thinking that maybe begging would work. “I am sorry, but it was hard for me. Adam and I had never—”

“Is Adam there?” she interrupted.

I frowned. “Yes.”

“May I speak with him?”

No! rang all through my head. But I passed him the phone anyway. “She wants to speak to you.”

It took him a moment to talk over his surprise. “Yes.”

It was my turn to pace. Really, I wanted Adam to put Shay-Shaunté on speaker, but I didn’t want to interrupt, didn’t want to do anything that might upset the fanatical woman on the other end.

I couldn’t believe she had us like this. Suing for five million
dollars? Would any judge allow that when she hadn’t even paid us that much? But how many times had I heard about crazy legal outcomes?

“Yes,” I heard Adam say over and over. “Well, I would appreciate that. Anything that we can work out.”

Anything that we can work out? What did she want to work out? Was she asking for another weekend with my husband?

I was willing to do anything to save my marriage.

Anything but that.

“Okay,” he said with finality. “We’ll be there.”

He hung up and slid down onto the bed. I sat next to him and he didn’t move away from me—that was a good sign.

“What did she say?”

He shook his head slightly. “She wants to meet at her office in an hour.”

“Is she dropping this?”

He looked at me. “I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe, like you said, she just wanted to make a point.” He sighed.

I knew what Adam was thinking—that none of this would’ve happened if … but he had to know that I would’ve stayed if I’d been able to.

Glancing at his watch, Adam said, “We’d better get moving.”

As we strode toward the bedroom door, I glanced at our suitcase, upright in front of the closet, ready to be rolled away for our amazing night of celebration.

“Should we take this?” I pointed to the bag, still hopeful.

Adam paused for a moment and didn’t look at me when he shook his head. “Naw, leave it here. We definitely won’t need it tonight.”

Chapter 61

W
HEN
I’
D WALKED THROUGH THESE DOORS
almost a month ago, I’d vowed that I’d never return. But here I was, like a boomerang—coming back to Shay-Shaunté.

Shay-Shaunté had requested that we meet in the entry-level conference room. That was a blessing—Adam and I didn’t have to walk past curious employees, who would wonder and gossip about the prodigal’s return to Ferossity.

As we waited in the empty room, I sat at the head of the eight-seat mahogany table. I’d put in six good years with Shay-Shaunté, and though I would’ve never called us friends, we’d had a great working relationship. I hoped she remembered those times. There had to be some goodness in her heart that would allow her to call this battle a draw.

Or maybe she would let me come back to work; that’s what she really wanted anyway—to degrade me. I would do whatever she wanted—anything from returning to my position, to working in the mailroom. At this point, I would do anything
for the sake of my family. Adam and I were just getting it together, so whatever I had to do today to make sure that we didn’t go back to yesterday, I would do.

I watched my husband pace from one end of the long room to the other. His head was bowed, his eyebrows were bunched so close together that they were almost connected. But I had no idea what he was specifically thinking. He hadn’t spoken a word since we’d left home. I hoped that his silence came from the same place as mine—a need to quietly plot a strategy to battle Shay-Shaunté.

The door to the conference room swung open, and I jumped a bit, startled.

A gray-haired dude entered; then, as if he was presenting royalty, he moved to the side and pushed the door so that it would open wider.

Shay-Shaunté slinked in, sauntering toward us in an emerald-green, turtleneck, knee-length knit dress that hugged her so snugly she couldn’t help but take small steps. The pattern on the dress—scales—was straight couture and gave the appearance of a long, lean snake. Her satiny hair was pulled back in a slick ponytail; she was ready for any Paris runway.

I snuggled into my coat, wrapping it tightly around me, hiding my jean outfit that had looked so chic at home.

But then I looked up and caught Adam’s gaze. His eyes were on Shay-Shaunté and my stomach cramped.

This was the first time Adam was seeing her, at least as far as I knew. I hadn’t thought of this, wasn’t prepared.

I tensed. Held my breath. Studied their reactions.

Shay-Shaunté sashayed toward Adam with a smile.

He stared at her blankly.

She lifted her arms, expecting a hug, as if he was a friend.

He stepped back and extended his hand, as if she was a stranger.

She chuckled and wrapped her fingers around his.

He grunted his greeting and gave her no more than a two-second handshake.

She tried to hold him a little longer, but he snatched his hand away from her grasp.

She laughed, a little.

He frowned, a lot.

It was all a relief to me.

Until Shay-Shaunté pirouetted, now facing me. “Hello, Evia,” she said, all business, no smiles.

I nodded my hello. She introduced her attorney, Dexter Harrington, then motioned for us all to sit. Adam and I chose the other side of the table—side by side we faced our enemy.

It was Dexter who got the party started. “I understand that you”—he spoke directly to Adam, like the deal had been made with him alone—“would like to discuss the lawsuit.”

“Yes.” Adam reached for my hand and closed his fingers over mine, and I’d never been more grateful for his touch.

Shay-Shaunté’s eyes followed my husband’s hands. Then she glanced at me and her lips moved smoothly, easily into her signature smile.

It made me shudder.

Adam said, “We were surprised to get the lawsuit because there seemed to be a breach of contract on both sides—”

“Excuse me.” Shay-Shaunté waved her hand, and I noticed the jeweled bracelet on her wrist—a snake that twisted around from halfway up her arm to the base of her hand. On the end, in the place of eyes, were two huge diamonds. She said, “I fulfilled my part of the deal. I gave you five million dollars—”

“Less taxes,” Adam said.

She shrugged. “It is not my fault that you weren’t clear.”

Her attorney interjected, “I don’t think we’re here to rehash
the situation. We’re here because my client is willing to discuss a settlement.”

Shay-Shaunté nodded.

“And we thank you for that,” Adam said.

I wanted to kick Adam under the table. We didn’t need to thank her for anything. But we did need to negotiate, so I said, “The only part of the contract that hasn’t been fulfilled is my continuing to work.”

“Until I found a replacement,” Shay-Shaunté said.

“Right. But since you’ve found someone, I’d be willing to make up for the time when you didn’t have the new assistant. I’d be willing to come back for three weeks—anywhere you want to use me in the company.”

Shay-Shaunté shook her head as if she was sorry. “I don’t think so, Evia. I can’t take the chance of hiring you back. You can’t be trusted to stay.”

“What are you talking about? You trusted me for six years, and it was only because you taunted me with the tax situation—”

“Not my fault.”

“And little comments about your weekend with my husband.”

“I can’t help that you’re sensitive.”

“And then you saying you were pregnant.”

She paused at that one. Took her eyes away from me and looked straight at Adam. “I never said that.”

“Whatever,” I said, my tone demanding that she turn back to me. And she did. “I would still be here if it wasn’t for you.”

She shrugged. “Whatever the reason … you quit. You forfeited the contract, and now I want that money back.”

The only thing that stopped me from climbing up and across the table was Adam squeezing my hand.

“I’d like to know if you have something in mind,” Adam said, taking over. “For a settlement. Something’s that’s fair to all of us.”

Dexter glanced at Shay-Shaunté and she nodded before she lowered her eyes. “We will drop the lawsuit for five million dollars, but my client believes that she deserves some of her money back.”

I inhaled. This was so not fair. Adam had done his part—which was worth far more than the half that she’d barely given us.

The attorney jotted something onto a piece of paper, folded it, then passed it to Adam. “Here is what my client is asking for.”

I leaned over close to Adam to see what she’d written on the paper: 1,575,859.04.

I gasped.

As Adam and I stared at the paper, the attorney continued, “Out of the five million that you received from my client, we feel it is more than fair and reasonable for you to return that amount to Ms. Shay-Shaunté.”

I couldn’t even bring my eyes up from that paper. That was exactly—less one dollar—what we had left. I shook my head and gathered my strength to face her.

“How did you …” The tap of Adam’s fingers against mine was my signal to stop. I did—but still I wanted to know how she knew.

Dexter continued, “If you decide to pursue the lawsuit, we would not only be seeking to get the entire five million back—”

“She never gave us five million!”

He continued over my protest, “—but we would be seeking reimbursement of all legal expenses as well. It could be quite costly for you.”

Adam had not yet raised his head; his eyes were still on that number that would wipe out our bank account. Slowly, he lifted his eyes and met Shay-Shaunté’s.

“We have a deal,” he said, not taking his eyes away from her.

She smiled. “That’s good.” Leaning forward, she spoke only to him. “I would’ve hated taking you to court,” she murmured. “Especially after the wonderful nights we shared.”

The scene played out in my mind—it would be a twelve-inch knife. I would stab her in the neck, sever her head. After all, isn’t that how you killed a snake?

Dexter cleared his throat. “I have the papers right here. We will expect the check, in certified funds, in a week.”

“You’ll have the check tomorrow,” Adam said.

Shay-Shaunté nodded as she signed the agreement with her standard signature—two giant cursive
S
s.

Slowly, she slid the paper and her pen toward Adam. Still, he didn’t look away from her, not even when he pulled his own pen from his jacket. Finally, he broke his stare long enough to sign on the line next to his name.

Shay-Shaunté said, “Don’t you think you should read it first, Adam? We don’t want another misunderstanding like the tax issue.”

He said nothing until he’d signed his full name. “I don’t think we’ll have any more problems. You’ve taken everything that we have.”

He turned to pass the paper to me, but Shay-Shaunté stopped him.

“There’s no need for her to sign.” She spoke as if I wasn’t sitting there. “This time, the deal is between you and me.”

Leaving the papers right where they were, Adam took my hand, helping me stand.

Shay-Shaunté didn’t move. She said to Adam, “I’m sorry this didn’t turn out better for you.”

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