Truth Be Told (28 page)

Starlight nodded. “Your father agreed that you should spend the night.”

Jayde's eyes lifted quickly. “I'm never going back,” she quivered. “Auntie Star, can't I stay with you? I can go to school from here. The van will pick me up, and I won't be any trouble.”

Though Starlight kept her smile, she swallowed the lump that Jayde's plea planted in her. “Jayde, we're going to do what's best.” She laid her hands on top of her niece's.

Jayde shook her head. “They're going to make me go home.”

Starlight took her hand. “Come over here.” Starlight motioned toward the pillows. “Sit on this.” She tossed one of the cushions to Jayde.

Starlight lowered herself into the lotus position in a motion that made Jayde stare.

“Wow.” Jayde tried to follow her aunt's example, but lost her balance. She giggled, then dropped onto the floor. But her laughter was gone a moment later. “Auntie Star, I could never live with my parents again.”

“Why not?”

Jayde searched Starlight's face as if she wasn't sure what she should say. “My dad told us that he has a son.” She paused. “And he's not Mom's.”

Starlight didn't know why Jayde's words made her heart pound. “I didn't know.”

“No one knew,” Jayde said shaking her head. “Dad just found out. His name is Solomon.” Jayde lowered her eyes. “That's why they went to New York.”

When Starlight was sure that Jayde wasn't going to add more, she said, “That is a lot to handle.”

“I'm really mad at Dad.”

“I can understand that.”

“And I'm mad at Mom because she's not getting a divorce.”

“That's a good thing.”

Jayde made a sound that Starlight couldn't decipher. “I wouldn't let anyone treat me like that.”

“Just live a little longer.” Starlight moved her pillow next to Jayde and rested her niece's head on her shoulder. “You're all up in business that you've got no right sticking your nose in.” Starlight chuckled inside. Gone was the decorum of the spiritual motivational speaker. She had reverted to auntspeak.

“I have a right, Aunt Star. They're my parents.”

“That's my point, sweetheart. They're the parents; you're the child. And children don't belong in grown folks' business.” She paused and kissed the top of Jayde's head. “No matter how mature and wonderful and beautiful that child might be.”

“I just feel bad for my mother.”

“Your mother can handle this.”

“Why isn't she mad?”

“I'm sure she is. But Jayde, if you feel bad for her, why don't you help?”

“I want to.”

“Are you helping by having her in the streets at night searching for you?”

Jayde lifted her head. “Was she doing that?”

“You know your mother.”

“Maybe I should have called her.” She paused. “So what should I do?”

Starlight smiled. “Go to bed. We'll handle this in the morning.” Starlight stood and helped Jayde to her feet.

“M
y name is Grace Monroe. I'm here to see Starlight.” She spoke with the authority of a councilwoman, the passion of a mother.

The concierge punched buttons on his console.

Grace tapped her fingers atop the desk. Her eyes roamed through the lobby filled with the standard amenities: marble floors, gold chandeliers, mirrored walls.

“I'm sorry, Ms. Monroe.” The concierge interrupted her inspection. “There's no answer.”

“What do you mean,” she lowered her voice when Conner placed his hand on her shoulder, “there's no answer?”

The concierge's eyes darted around the lobby.

“Try. Again.”

His fingers sped along the numerical keys on the console.

Conner edged Grace from the desk. “Be calm, sweetheart.”

“How can I be?” she asked through lips that barely moved. “My sister is playing games.”

When they turned around, the concierge diverted his eyes and dialed again.

Grace pulled her cell phone from her purse. She dialed Starlight's number. After more than ten rings, a voice filled with sleep answered.

“Starlight, this is Grace. We're downstairs. Tell your doorman to let us up.” She didn't wait for her sister's response. She handed the phone to the man.

After a few seconds of “yes,” “no,” “yes, ma'am,” the concierge opened the elevator to the penthouse.

Grace shook with anxiety, and only Conner's arm steadied her. But her strength returned the moment the elevator opened. She rushed to Starlight's door.

A Hispanic woman, clothed in a bathrobe, opened the door. “
Entre, por favor
.”

They stepped into the massive space, and even from the long entryway, Grace could see the floor-to-ceiling living room windows that framed the ocean view.

“I get Ms. Starlight for you.”

“Wow,” Conner whispered when the woman disappeared.

Through her anger, Grace was impressed. Not just by the size of the apartment, but with the decor. The lavender enveloped her, soothing, calming, almost extracting the displeasure from her.

Then Starlight sauntered into the entryway.

“Good morning,” she whispered. “I didn't expect you this early.” She yawned. “What time is it?”

“Time for us to get Jayde.” Grace looked over Starlight's shoulder. “She's still asleep.”

Grace glared at her sister. “Wake her up.”

“That's not a good idea.”

“It's a wonderful idea,” Grace uttered through lips that were as unmoving as her eyes.

They stared, a war of wills. Grace took a step toward Starlight, and Conner moved between them.

“Starlight,” he began. “Please, wake up Jayde.”

She held her stare for a moment longer; then her lips spread into a smile. “I'll get her, although I'll probably wake her from the first good night's sleep she's had in days.”

She turned, then said over her shoulder, “Have a seat. That is, if you want to give Jayde a chance to dress.”

When Starlight moved down the hall, Grace growled.

“Let's go inside.” Conner motioned with his chin.

Grace lumbered through the carpet's thickness. She stood at the balcony. The morning's waves crashed heavily, and again Grace felt herself drawn into the surroundings, easing in the lake of lavender. She wondered if there was something in the paint or in the air that hypnotized Starlight's guests.

Grace felt them before she heard them, and turned around. Jayde stood with Starlight's arms around her.

She rushed to her daughter. “I was so worried,” Grace said as she held her tight. When she pulled away, she said, “What were you thinking?”

Conner kissed Jayde's cheek, then whispered to Grace, “Let's go home.”

Grace read his eyes and nodded. She took Jayde's hand and turned to her sister. “Thank you, Starlight.”

“Not a problem, Grace.” She paused. “I want to help.”

Jayde hugged her aunt.

“Remember what we talked about.” Starlight pushed back Jayde's braids.

Grace sighed and wondered how much debriefing she'd have to do.

They were silent as they rode in the elevator and then got into the car. Silence kept them company as Conner maneuvered through the streets. Grace glanced into the back seat a few times, but Jayde kept her eyes on the window. The moment Conner turned into their garage, Jayde opened her door, jumped out, and ran into the house.

“Should we talk to her now?” Grace asked as they followed her.

“I don't know.”

Grace sighed. “Teenagers should come with a manual.”

“This isn't about teenagers. This is about me.” He paused. “Let's talk to her.”

Jayde was waiting, sitting on the edge of her bed. “All I want to know is—what is my punishment?” she demanded.

Just minutes before, Grace had been glad to see her daughter. Now she could have wrapped her fingers around Jayde's neck.

Neither Grace nor Conner responded. Grace sat in the chair at the desk and Conner stood, not far from the door.

“Don't worry, Jayde. You'll get your punishment,” Grace said. “I can't wait to give it to you. But first I want to know. What did you think you were doing?”

Jayde said nothing.

Conner said, “Do you know how worried we were?”

Silence was Jayde's response.

“I'm very disappointed in you, Jayde,” Conner said.

She raised her eyes, filled with tears. “And I'm disappointed in you, Daddy.”

Grace held her breath as Conner moved toward the bed. He stood, towering over his daughter. When he sat down, Grace breathed.

“I know you're disappointed, but this is what life is about. The good times and the bad.” He hesitated for a moment, then took her hand. “I'm sorry you feel I've let you down, but I can't make Solomon disappear, and I don't want to.

“You can sulk. You can walk around making everyone wish you didn't live here. But the truth is, you have to figure out how you're going to deal with this.”

Conner wrapped his arms around Jayde, though she sat limp. He kissed her cheek, then left the room.

Grace waited a minute before she said, “Jayde, what happened?”

She looked at her mother and shrugged. “When I left yesterday, I was mad. And when I got to Philip's house, I thought about what my friends were going to say when they found out, and I got angrier.”

Grace sat next to Jayde. “I understand, but running away didn't make any of those concerns disappear, did it?”

“No.”

“And your father and I were worried.”

“I'm really sorry about that, Mom.”

“I know you are.” She paused. “You'll be on punishment for two weeks: no phone calls, no movies …”

Jayde's mouth opened into a wide O. “Next week is Brittany's birthday party.”

She shook her head. “I'm sorry.”

“But you said you understood,” Jayde whined.

“I do. But it doesn't change what you did.” Grace kissed her daughter's forehead.

Jayde flopped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling, dismissing Grace.

When Grace walked into their bedroom, Conner lay across the middle of their bed. “I told her she was on punishment for two weeks.”

“That was pretty easy.”

“It'll be tough. Brittany's party is next Saturday.”

Conner lay still.

Grace put her arms around her husband and closed her eyes. At least Jayde's punishment would be over in two weeks. She had no idea when theirs was going to end.

G
race leaned over and kissed Conner just as he turned off the ignition. “This was a treat.”

“We should do this every morning.”

“Wouldn't that be wonderful,” Grace said as she thought about how Conner had readied the girls for school this morning while she slept. When her eyes finally eased open, she jumped from the bed. “I overslept,” she said when Conner walked into the bedroom.

“No problem. The girls are already gone. And I'm taking you out to breakfast.” He chuckled.

She grinned. “What about work?”

“I'm going to work from home today.” He lost his smile. “I have to take care of some things for Pilar, and I'd rather do it from here.”

She nodded, wondering how the mention of Pilar's name could still dampen their mood. “We don't have to go to breakfast. It was a nice thought, but you're busy, and my calendar is full too,” she said, filling the air with excuses. “I've got to work on my alternative educational plan.”

“We're going, Grace. I want to spend an hour with you.” He nudged her toward the bathroom. “Just you and me. No children, no Pilar.” His smile returned. “So get dressed, woman.”

For the next two hours, the world consisted of just three: the two of them and the waitress who brought them the best chicken and waffles in the city.

“It's time to get to work, Ms. Councilwoman.”

They held hands as he walked her to the front door of her office.

“Have I told you I love you?” he asked as he put his arms around her.

“Not in the last few minutes.”

“You've been wonderful, Grace, with all that you have on your plate.”

She cupped her hand against his face. “We share this plate.”

As he kissed her, the front door opened.

“Grace, the tabloids are going to love this story!” Zoë said, her face stretched with seriousness.

Grace froze.

“I can see the headlines. “Councilwoman Monroe Makes Out with Her Legal Eagle Hubby.” Zoë laughed.

“Oh,” Grace breathed and glanced at Conner. His eyes told her that he shared her thoughts—that their secret had somehow been uncovered.

He kissed her cheek, waved to Zoë, and trotted to his car.

“How was your weekend?” Zoë asked when they stepped into the office.

Grace paused. She'd found out the mother of her husband's son was coming to L.A. sooner than expected, she'd told her children they had a brother, and she had found her runaway child. “My weekend was fine,” she said. “You know, regular stuff.”

“Sounds as boring as mine.” Zoë sighed. “But I've made up for it. I've been finding information on the complete city budget. Here's what I've printed out.”

Grace flipped through the stapled pages as she walked behind her desk. “This is good, Zoë. Also, I want to talk about our staff …”

The front door opened, stopping her words. Sara Spears, dressed in a navy suit complete with red tie, entered.

“Good morning, ladies.”

“What do you want, Ms. Spears?” Zoë asked crisply.

Grace raised her eyebrows at her chief of staff 's tone. “Zoë, I don't think we should speak to guests that way.”

Sara smirked.

“What do you want, Ms. Spears?” Grace asked, matching Zoë's tone.

Sara half-smiled and sat in one of the chairs in front of Grace's desk. “May I sit down?”

Grace chuckled and motioned for Zoë to sit next to Sara, but before she did, Sara said, “Grace, we need to talk alone.”

Zoë planted her feet and crossed her arms.

Grace almost laughed out loud. Her five-foot-two, onehundred ten pound chief of staff had lost all signs of political decorum. Zoë stared at Sara with a glare that would have made Evander Holyfield proud.

“Zoë, would you mind leaving me alone with … Ms. Spears?”

She nodded, though her boxer's stare remained as she swaggered toward the door.

Sara shook her head. “My goodness, Grace. I would think you would surround yourself with Christian workers. You'd better tell that girl to read her Bible.”

I should tell her to beat you down,
Grace thought. The image made her smile. “What can I do for you?”

“It's really about what I can do for you.” Sara leaned back. “You got turned down for the Education Committee.”

“Sara, don't you have anything else to do? Like shopping for a new broom to whip around town on?”

Sara laughed. “I'll chalk that up to your disappointment with not getting on the Education Committee.” She paused. “I know how much you wanted that, Grace, so I have a proposition for you.”

“What can you possibly do for me?”

Sara leaned forward, resting her hands on Grace's desk. “I can get you on that committee.”

Grace stiffened and pressed the tips of her fingers together. Her silence permitted Sara to continue.

“We think you could have a positive impact on the Education Committee …”

Who's we?
Grace wanted to ask.

“… with the experience that you bring.”

This is politics,
Grace thought.

“But there are certain things we cannot tolerate.”

There was that
we
again. Grace shuddered as she wondered who was behind Sara's coalition.

“Here's the deal. You drop your crusade for prayer in the schools, help us to block the public hearings on school prayer, and we'll let you have your campaign against drugs because, after all, that is good for everyone.” She paused. “So agree to our terms, and you'll get a call from the mayor.”

Grace blinked rapidly. “Would you mind repeating that?”

She could almost see Sara's tonsils with her wide smile. “You heard me.”

Slowly, Grace's lips spread, matching Sara's smile. “You can leave now.”

Sara lifted her purse from the floor. “I'll take that as a, you'll think about it.”

“You can take it whatever way you want and do with it whatever you wish.”

Sara laughed as she stood. “We'll give you a few days.” She put her hand on the door knob, but before she opened it, she turned back. “Grace, you should reconsider that interview I requested.”

“I don't think so.”

“Let me give you a scenario. Suppose there's a story floating around that within the next few days will break.”

Outside, Grace was cool. Inside, every organ in her body was on fire.

“Now, many entertainers, athletes, and even politicians find themselves in this position,” Sara continued in a singsong tone, sounding like she was reciting a fairy tale. “What the smart ones do is bring the story forth themselves so they can spin it their way.”

Grace licked her suddenly dry lips. “What are you talking about?”

“Just the story I want to do about you, Grace. What do you think I'm talking about?”

Grace's heart pounded. There was no way that Sara could know about Solomon. There were no records she could have found, no hospital personnel she could have bribed. Still, her heart hammered to a beat that was well beyond normal.

“Have a good day, Grace.”

Sara opened the door, and Zoë stood as if she'd been waiting the entire time. Sara slithered past Zoë, then out the front door.

“What did she want?”

Grace motioned for Zoë to sit down. She didn't think she'd believe it until she said the words herself. “I've just been propositioned, and I'm not sure what to do.”

Conner and Grace whispered in the darkness of their bedroom, having turned out the lights long ago.

“I don't know which is worse—the conspiracy to keep me off the Education Committee or Sara knowing something that she can use against me.”

Conner's arms tightened around her. “There's no way she could know about Solomon.” His statement didn't carry much confidence.

“I agree, but …” Her hands roamed over his bare chest. “Now that the girls know, I need to make this public before someone else does.”

“Do you think our personal business will really matter to anyone?”

“Conner, there is a string of politicians whose personal business is lying in the streets because journalists believe that private means public if more than three people know your name.”

“But you're a local politician, sweetheart.”

“And Sara's a local sleazebag who's looking to put her name on the local news. Think about the number of people in L.A., the number of council people who've had their personal situations exposed on KCAL's breaking news.”

He blew a puff of air through his lips.

“I don't want to do this.” She combed her fingers through the hairs on his chest. “But you're the one who said that we had to move toward the truth.”

She didn't think that he could hold her any tighter. But he did. “I support whatever you want to do.” He paused, and she could almost hear his thoughts. “Maybe we should get together with our team. If we strike, we want to be in the best position.”

She nodded and tried to lean deeper into him. They tried to sleep. But rest eluded them, and they waited, holding each other until the night gave birth to morning.