“What century are you in?” LaKeisha asked.
“What?” Blair asked, with a smile as if trying to play it off. “I’m just kidding.”
“That kind of kidding causes lawsuits,” said Thomas Hayes, the fifty-year-old head of the agency review team and longtime friend of Jerry’s. “You seem to be doing a lot of kidding like that around here.”
Sherise was so glad to hear word was getting around.
Just then, Jerry’s cell phone rang and he looked down at it. “It’s my wife,” he said. “I’ve got to take this.”
LaKeisha stood up. “We’ll all leave you to . . .”
“No, you can all stay.” Jerry stood up. He looked at Maurice with something resembling disgust. “I need a break from this.”
Maurice sighed, realizing that he wasn’t going to be able to joke this one away. He got up from his seat on the other side of Jerry’s desk and looked at Sherise.
“Thanks a lot,” he said.
“You’re the one who put his foot in his mouth.” Sherise smirked.
Choosing not to respond, he quickly stormed out of the room.
“Where is he going?” Thomas asked. “Doesn’t he know how Jerry hates being disturbed when he’s on the phone with his wife?”
“He’s about to find out,” LaKeisha said.
Sherise turned to LaKeisha. “You don’t look too upset.”
“Well, I am,” LaKeisha said. “He’s hitting on every woman in the office.”
“He made Winnie very uncomfortable,” Sherise stated.
Sherise had done her part to fan Winnie’s flames over Maurice’s behavior. She reminded her of how disrespectful his behavior was and how women who were openly harassed in the workplace ended up losing the respect of their coworkers and it hurt their advancement opportunities. By the time she was finished with her, Winnie wanted Maurice Blair to burn in hell.
She’d had her first convert.
“He’s a sloppy mess,” Thomas said.
Others in the room nodded in agreement. Sherise had to garner all the willpower she had in order to stop from smiling with glee.
“Jerry knows?” she asked.
“I just . . .” LaKeisha sighed, sounded defeated. “Jerry’s under immense pressure right now. It’s our job to keep stuff like that away from him.”
“But is that wise?” Sherise asked. “I mean . . . of course I can’t tell him. He’ll think it’s just me trying to get rid of Maurice.”
“I’ve got to deal with all the people he wants me to put on as head of the agencies,” Tom said. “He acts like it’s a game. These people have to be approved by the Senate, after all.”
“This is what I mean,” Sherise directed. “These are not small problems. Yes, I can console the odd assistant who whines about him slapping her on the butt, but his behavior is threatening the administration before it even begins.”
“I’m not going to let him bully me,” Tom exclaimed defiantly.
“He’s not bullying you,” Sherise said. “He’s bullying Jerry.”
LaKeisha shook her head. “I won’t let that happen. Whatever the hell is going on with Blair, he isn’t running this administration. I’m going to be chief of staff. I’ll be running things.”
“You can’t even find out how he got this job,” Sherise said. She noticed the glare LaKeisha was sending her. “Don’t tell me it’s just favors. Something is going on here. You know and you’re not in on it.”
LaKeisha looked away, appearing very bothered by the situation.
Sherise watched with interest as the woman worked things through in her mind. She wasn’t always the brightest and she had made some mistakes during the campaign, but LaKeisha had given her life to Jerry. If Sherise could make her feel even half as threatened by Maurice as she felt, her plan could move twice as fast.
“It’s time,” LaKeisha said, with a definitive nod of her head. “I need to have a serious talk with Jerry about Maurice. He’s not going to fuck everything up.”
Convert number two.
When Billie walked into the condo she shared with Michael in the NoMa neighborhood of D.C., she immediately smelled garlic and realized how ravenous she was. It smelled amazing. She let the scents of garlic matched with, possibly, roasted chicken waft around her as she walked down the hallway.
When she entered the open space she looked to her left and saw the table in the dining space that separated the kitchen from the living area was already set with a bottle of wine in the middle.
“I love you,” she said, as she tossed her purse on the sofa.
Michael was in the kitchen and looked up at her with a smile. He was dressed in a Redskins T-shirt and sweatpants. He was carving the roasted chicken with his electric knife. She loved how comfortable he was cooking. She wasn’t the most domestic of women, although she tried her best. The truth was, they mostly ate out, so this was a treat to see.
“Before you give me too much credit,” he said, “I picked it up after work. I just put it in the oven to keep it warm.”
“What is it?” she asked.
She entered the kitchen, noting the mashed potatoes and corn sides, along with the cheddar garlic rolls. She could dip her hand in those potatoes right now.
Michael paused for a second to kiss her.
“Peruvian coal roasted,” he said. “Your favorite.”
“Special occasion?” she asked.
“No.” He placed the knife farther down on the counter. “Want to grab the sides?”
She grabbed the potatoes and corn while Michael took hold of the chicken plate and the rolls. They both went around the counter and into the dining area, where they placed the food on the table.
“Just after hearing about your run-in with Tara, I thought you’d need something nice.”
She rubbed his back, kissing his cheek. “You are the best boyfriend in the world.”
“Ah ah ah.” He waved a finger at her as he sat down.
“Fiancé,” she corrected herself. “I have to get used to saying that.”
“Then,” he added, “you’ll have to get used to saying husband .”
“Can’t wait.” She took her seat and started placing food on both their plates. “But honestly, it was horrible. I was able to stop her before she got on the elevator and calm her down.”
Michael poured the wine in their glasses. “Do you really think she was that convinced that you and Porter were getting back together?”
Billie nodded. “I knew she was happy we were getting along again, but I didn’t believe she actually thought we would be together. She knows how much I love you. I’ve told her. She’s seen it.”
“Kids hear what they want sometimes,” Michael said. “I like the kid. I feel bad for her, but I feel worse for you.”
“I hope you still feel that way after I tell you what I’ve decided,” Billie disclosed.
He looked at her cautiously, pausing before taking a sip of wine.
“Take that sip,” she directed. “You might need it.”
“What is it, Billie?”
“I’m having dinner with Porter Saturday night,” she said.
She noticed his grimace.
Michael hated Porter. It wasn’t just out of jealousy. Porter had given him a hard time from the beginning. He didn’t want Billie with anyone, and Michael was no exception.
Although Billie and Porter had made their peace, Tara was still an issue that caused them to interact. Whenever Michael was involved, Porter was rude to him. When Tara was over, she would repeat disparaging remarks that Porter had said about Michael. Maybe it was his state college education or his partial Southern accent.
Despite his improved behavior, it was clear to Michael that Porter wished Billie was his again and he hated the idea of her being anywhere near him, without him being alongside her.
“Before you start,” Billie said, “I have to tell him. I made a deal with Tara.”
“But why dinner?” he asked.
“That’s what
he wanted,” she explained. “I called him and told him I had something important to talk to him about and he said that was the only time he had free.”
Michael shook his head. “He just made a date with you, Billie. In his mind.”
“It’s not fancy,” she said. “We’re meeting at the hoagie shop near his house.”
“I’m in the mood for a good hoagie,” Michael said. “When we meeting?”
“You’re not coming along,” she told him, with a warning glare. “Don’t mess with me on this one. I don’t want to do anything that’ll make this worse. It’s already not gonna be easy.”
“You want to break it to him easy?” Michael asked. “Why? Fuck him. You’ve been divorced over three years. Send him a fucking text.”
Billie laughed. “That’s cold as hell.”
“You think he deserves better?”
“This isn’t for Porter,” she reminded him. “It’s for Tara. I have no legal rights to her at all. Being respectful to Porter keeps Tara in my life. I don’t want to risk that. She’s almost graduating. She has prom, college, a lot of things going on that she’ll need me for.”
Michael looked frustrated. “Well, I mean . . .”
“What?” Billie asked.
“What if you’re not here?” he asked. “I mean, not in D.C. How are you gonna handle that? Do you think Porter will let her fly out to see you?”
“Why wouldn’t I be here?” she asked. “D.C. is my home.”
“Atlanta is my home,” Michael stated. “I was thinking we should move there after we’re married. You know, to raise our family.”
Billie almost choked on the chicken she was eating. She looked at Michael, astonished. “Are you serious? Where is this coming from?”
“Billie you know how I feel about D.C.’s fast lifestyle. It’s great for young professionals, but when you start a family . . .”
“You move to the suburbs,” she said. “That’s what we discussed. Where is Atlanta coming from?”
“You know I can do what I do from any location,” he explained. “Being home really made me think of going back. I feel so centered there. I feel . . . right.”
Billie didn’t know how to handle this, but she tried to stay calm. “So all of a sudden you want . . . Michael, my job is here. I’m up for promotion. My friends are here. Sherise and Erica. Tara.”
Michael seemed disappointed with her response. “I get that career and friends are important, but family comes first.”
“Sherise, Erica, and Tara are my family,” she exclaimed.
“Do any of them come before a husband?” he asked.
She sat back. Of course she knew the answer to that was no, but this was too much to handle right now. She was already in knots over dealing with Tara and Porter, and now this. He wanted her to leave her girls, the women she loved and needed dearly, her career, which she had fought so hard to recover, and Tara, who she thought of as a daughter.
What was she going to do now?
Upon realizing that Sherise wasn’t getting off the phone anytime soon, Billie walked over to the nearby bench and sat down. She placed her bag full of bridal magazines next to her. They were at small, upscale Mazza Gallerie, a mall on Wisconsin Ave in Washington, D.C., doing their Christmas shopping.
It was supposed to be the three of them, but Erica hadn’t shown up and wasn’t answering their calls or texts. Billie was worried about her, but Sherise was focused on other issues, as Billie could overhear when Sherise walked over to the bench. She didn’t sit down, but put her two Neiman Marcus bags next to Billie’s.
“I know he’s a PR expert,” Sherise expressed into the phone. “He’s spent his life making people’s secrets go away, but there has to be something you can get on him.”
She looked down at Billie and rolled her eyes. For some reason, her private investigator, Beth Martin, was coming up with nothing after a few days. Being honest, that wasn’t really the truth. She hadn’t been able to come up with anything that already hadn’t been swirling rumors about. Sherise needed something to make him sweat.
“I need it by next Monday, got it?” she asked. “Good. Talk to you then.”
She hung up and stuffed the phone in her purse, looking down at Billie. “I’m sorry, but that was important.”
“Spying on your new boss.”
“Don’t call him that,” Sherise ordered. “And don’t give me that judgmental look.”
“I’m not judging you,” Billie said. “But I thought the plan was to make him look stupid. Not blackmail him.”
“It’s all part of the same game.” She sat down on the bench as Billie slid over for her.
“Can I just give you one warning?” Billie asked. “From one sister to another.”
“No,” Sherise said.
“I get that Maurice is the problem,” Billie continued, ignoring Sherise’s response. “But you don’t want to become more of a problem than the problem over there.”
Sherise looked at her in somewhat disbelief. “Have we met?”
“I’m telling you,” Billie said, shaking her head. “You’re getting that obsessed vibe and . . .”
“Bitch, I’m not a rookie,” Sherise said. “I’ve been doing this shit since day one. Don’t talk to me like I’m some newbie who wants to make some drama at work for her own amusement.”
“Don’t snap, you nut job,” Billie warned. “Just stay under control.”
“I got this,” Sherise said.
“You got what?”
Both women turned around to see Erica approaching them from behind.
“Where in the hell have you been?” Sherise asked.
“Don’t start with you me, either of you.” Erica glanced down at the bags. “You seem to have been doing just fine without me.”
“Is everything okay?” Billie asked.
Erica sighed. “Let’s not start that shit again.”
Sherise stood up. “If you don’t want us fucking with you, then answer a bitch’s text. Okay?”
“Really,” Billie said. “It’s been two hours. It’s not like you to be so late. So with everything going on, you know we’re worried.”
“I’m here now,” Erica said.
“And I almost have to go,” Billie said.
“Go where?” Sherise asked. “I thought we’d all grab something to eat before I have to head back to mommy land.”
“I told you about Porter.” Billie heard her body groan as she stood up. If that wasn’t telling about how she felt about meeting Porter, nothing else was.
“Oh yeah,” Sherise said. “Well, let’s go, then.”
“You’re not coming,” Billie informed her. “Why doesn’t anyone think I can do this on my own? First Michael, now you two.”
“We won’t sit at the table with you,” Erica said. “We’ll sit at the bar.”
“No,” Billie urged. “You’re just adding to my stress.”
“No reason for that,” Sherise said. “Just tell him you’re getting married to a real man this time and be done with it.”
“Make him buy your drink first,” Erica added.
Billie laughed. “You’re both worse than Michael. He wanted me to text him.”
“I like him more and more each day,” Sherise said. “Me and Michael are gonna get along just fine.”
“For as long as we’re here,” Billie added inadvertently.
“What does that mean?” Erica asked.
“That’s what I meant by added stress,” Billie explained. “Michael wants to move back to Atlanta after we’re married. It just came out of nowhere this week.”
“Nowhere?” Erica asked. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” Billie was intrigued by the curious look on Erica’s face. “Why?”
“Well,” Sherise stated, “he mentioned it to me and Erica at Thanksgiving.”
Billie shot up from the bench. “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”
“We assumed you knew,” Erica said. “He said something like . .
. his kids weren’t going to be raised in D.C.”
Billie wasn’t sure what to think. Had there been clues she’d ignored?
“But we talked about moving into the Maryland suburbs. Not leaving D.C. I can’t leave D.C. I’m licensed to practice in D.C. I can’t leave Tara. I can’t leave you two.”
Erica reached out and rubbed her back reassuringly. “Calm down. It’s not set in stone yet. You have just as much say as he does.”
“More so,” Sherise added. “He’s not doing you a favor by marrying you. He doesn’t call all the shots. That man loves the hell out of you. If you say you’re staying in D.C., then you’re staying.”
“What’s he going to do?” Erica asked. “Call off the wedding?”
Billie didn’t even want to think of that. “It’s not that simple. I want him to be happy too. I want this marriage to work.”
“It will,” Sherise assured her. “It will work and you’ll stay. Now, on the topic of weddings, let’s go show Erica what we saw for bridesmaids’ dresses.”
“You’ve already picked them out?” Erica asked. “Without me?”
“Show up on time, bitch.” Sherise pointed to her. “Come on. They’re in Neiman Marcus. It’s a really gorgeous Alexander McQueen lavender one-shoulder open back.”
“Alexander McQueen?” Emily asked.
“It’s gorgeous,” Sherise said. “Billie loved them.”
“Yeah, but . . .” Billie held her hand up to halt Sherise. “The dress is $890. I told you that Erica can’t afford that.”
Erica frowned. “You were both discussing how poor I am behind my back.”
“Again.” Sherise stepped to Erica. “Get here on time and we’ll discuss how poor you are to your face.”
“Why don’t I just smack you in your face?” Erica asked.
“Hold on.” Billie got between them. “Take it easy, Erica. We’ll help you buy the dress if you need—”
“More charity again?” Erica asked. “I’m not a charity case. I don’t need either of you to buy me a $900 dress.”
“Good,” Sherise said. “Because I wasn’t going to buy you shit after you threatened to smack me in the face.”
“What do you mean?” Billie asked.
Erica looked at them both and simply said. “I’m about to come into a million dollars.”
Power, Seduction & Scandal Page 11
