Lacy thought he deserved one.
“I also called Triple A. They’ll tow your car just soon as they can get to it. You have to call them later this afternoon and let them know which body shop to take it to.” He sounded and looked genuinely contrite.
Lacy nodded. “Thanks.”
Drake told the guard in the front seat, “You should probably drive.”
Burton puffed up. “I’m the driver here.”
Drake shook his head. “Move over.”
Lacy could see that Burton wasn’t pleased, but he slid down the long seat to the passenger side. The other man, a dark-skinned giant who’d introduced himself as William “Billy” Cruise, got in behind the wheel and eased the big car out into the slow-moving traffic.
Drake said to him, “Let’s run by Henry Ford Hospital so Ms. Green can get herself checked out. Is there someone I can call for you. Husband, family?”
“No, but I should call my job.”
She opened the tote that doubled as her purse and fished for her phone. Her neck didn’t like the movement but she ignored it as best she could.
Drake asked, “Where do you work?”
“A few floors below you. Environmental Enforcement.”
He couldn’t hide his surprise. “Are you a secretary?”
“No. Assistant director.”
Drake paused. He’d never met her before. “How long have you been in the office?”
“About six months.”
Lacy turned her attention to her phone call. There was no answer at her office. She assumed the bad weather had impacted everybody’s arrival. She decided to try later.
When she put the phone back into her tote, Drake said, “Sorry we had to meet this way.”
“So is my car.”
Drake turned his attention to the snow scene out his window and smiled.
On the slow drive into the city, Drake kept taking peeks at her. Her skin was black as a summer night and looked just as soft. He’d always had a thing for dark-skinned women, probably because of his dark-skinned mother, but whatever the reason, Drake liked his berries black. Lacy Green’s hair was done in those tiny twists black women had taken to wearing in recent years. He’d never liked the style. In his opinion, most of the women sporting the ’do resembled mops, or contestants in the Westminster dog show, but on Lacy the style flattered the lines of her dark face and added a certain jazz to the onyx eyes and the sensual curves of her lips and mouth. To quote the vernacular, the sister was hot. He also noted that she had no ring on the third finger of her left hand. Granted, that didn’t mean she didn’t have a man, but Drake had an often uncanny sense about that sort of thing, and to him it said Lacy Green was unattached. Unfortunately, for Drake, Burton had driven her off the road, totaling her car, and as a result, he knew that trying to talk to her was going to be harder than finishing med school.
When the mayor’s big Lincoln pulled up in front of the large brick building that bore Henry Ford’s name, Lacy looked out of the window at the imposing structure. This would be her first visit to the world famous medical facility known for its cutting-edge techniques.
The mayor opened the door and said to the men, “Keep the car warm.” Then to Lacy, “Be right back.”
He returned with a wheelchair. She sat in it and he pushed her toward the door.
Inside the hospital, the mayor’s presence sent the staff and the citizens into a frenzy. Folks gawked with surprise. Others ran up wanting autographs. Some simply wanted to shake his hand. Drake Randolph was one of the most popular mayors in the city’s history. In spite of his battles with the City Council over implementation of some of his more controversial programs, the residents loved him.
After leaving Admitting, he pushed her onto the elevator, and Lacy could see the two nurses already in the car studying her speculatively. The mayor’s reputation with the ladies was well known, and Lacy was certain the women were wondering how she and His Fineness were connected. Neither was rude enough to ask, which suited her just fine, because she planned on dumping him and his no-driving chauffeur ASAP.
Although Drake knew next to nothing about the lady he was pushing in the chair, he found himself intrigued by the fact that she didn’t act as if he were the Second Coming. She didn’t seem impressed by him at all, and the novelty of her reaction was a welcome breath of fresh air. Everywhere he went, women swarmed over him like carrion beetles. Not this one. She looked like she’d rather sock him, and he respected that even as he wondered if the city was going to have yet another lawsuit on its hands because of the accident.
A short while later Lacy was wheeled into the X-ray department. A few people were seated in the large room, waiting to be seen, and the mayor’s entrance made every one wide-eyed. The female attendant looked as if she might faint when she saw him, but quickly pulled herself together.
“Good morning, Mayor—Dr. Randolph,” she gushed.
“’Morning, Denise. This is Lacy Green. She was in a car accident this morning and needs her ankle and neck X-rayed. Is Reg Carson in the building somewhere?”
Denise, a short round woman with breasts so prominent they pressed against her white coat as if trying to escape, gave Lacy a sympathetic smile. “I’ll find out. In the meantime, come this way. Which ankle, honey?”
“Right.”
Drake rolled Lacy to a small examination room and Denise closed the door. “Dr. Randolph, if you’ll take her boot off, I’ll page Dr. Carson, get these other patients started, and be right back.”
He nodded. “Thanks, Denise.”
Denise exited and the mayor knelt in front of Lacy in the chair. Their eyes held. Lacy felt something pass between them that made her pulse jump just enough to be noticeable, but the last time she’d had dealings with a man as prominent and handsome as this, she’d lost everything, and she had no plans on going there again. “Who’s Dr. Carson?”
“Friend of mine. He’s an orthopedic surgeon on the staff here.” Drake didn’t let her coolness deter him. The more she pulled back, the more intrigued he became. He placed his hands on her boot. “Let’s see if we can get this off.”
Lacy wasn’t having it. Letting him remove her footwear smacked of an intimacy she didn’t want to encourage. “I got it,” she said evenly.
But she didn’t. Not only did her neck hurt when she leaned down to reach the boot hidden beneath her long brown suede skirt, but the ankle was so swollen the attempts to remove it brought her nothing but pain. Hurting, she exhaled an angry, frustrated sigh and leaned back against the chair.
“Let me try,” he said gently.
She nodded for him to go ahead, but his actions only made the pain flare again, so he stopped and told her, “We may have to cut it.”
Lacy sighed with frustration. The black boots had cost her eighty-five dollars on sale at Marshall Field’s. Although the mayor’s suggestion made sense, the reality of having to slice through the soft leather only added to an already messed up day.
Denise came back, papers in hand. “Can’t get it off?”
Grim, Lacy said, “No.”
Denise took what appeared to be a capped pen from her pocket, but when the cap was removed, a small silver scalpel caught the light. She handed the instrument to Drake. “Dr. Carson is on his way,” she said, then shook her head sadly. “Those are killer boots, girlfriend.”
“Were,” Lacy corrected her, and raised her suede skirt to her knee.
The boots were knee high, so the incision began at the top. Drake worked slowly and carefully until the halves of the leather fell away to reveal the sheer black-stockinged leg beneath. He drew the boot off. Silently admiring her leg and the purple polish on the toes of her well-formed foot, he keep his face impassive, concentrating instead on the large knot that had once been her ankle.
Grateful to be free of the confining boot, Lacy gingerly moved her toes, only to wince at the pain.
“Sorry about the boot,” he said.
“I’ll add them to your bill.”
Drake shook his head at her wit, then wheeled her out of the room and down the hall to where Dr. Carson and the X-ray machine waited.
Two
A short brother decked out in green scrubs and carrying a set of crutches entered the room. He was what folks in the south called “redbone.” Red hair, freckles, and a winning smile. He shook the mayor’s hand enthusiastically. “You slumming, Your Honor? We poor doctor types don’t see you around here much these days.”
Drake laughed. “Reggie, I know you’re not calling yourself poor. You make more money than the Ford family.”
“I wish.” Reggie then looked to Lacy and stuck out his hand. “Name’s Reggie Carson.”
“Lacy Green.”
“How’d you hurt your ankle?”
“Car accident. My Escort met the mayor’s limo. The Escort lost.”
Reggie shook his head. “You’d think His Fineness would have a better way of meeting women.”
“You’d think,” Lacy quipped, enjoying Reggie’s sense of humor.
The mayor rolled his eyes.
Reggie chuckled. “Let’s see what you have here.” After a few twists and turns of her ankle, he said, “Yep. A prime candidate for my services. Denise said your neck hurts too?”
“Yeah. Seems to be getting stiffer and stiffer.”
He did a short, gentle inspection of her neck and shoulders, then said, “Let’s take some pictures and see what’s going on.”
Afterward, while Lacy waited in the examination room for the mayor and Dr. Carson to return with the X-ray results, she took out her cell phone and punched up her mother, Val, in Atlanta. The call was answered on the second ring, and the familiar southern voice soothed Lacy’s frayed nerves. “Hey, Mama.”
“Hey, baby. How are you?”
“Had a car accident.”
Val gasped. “Are you okay? I can hop on a plane and be there before dark.”
Lacy smiled. “I’m okay, but I’m at the hospital having some X-rays on my neck and ankle. My car looks totaled, though.”
“I’m sorry, but it was time to get rid of that wreck anyway.”
Lacy laughed softly. “Leave my car alone.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?”
“I’m sure. Soon as I’m done here, I’m heading home. How’s Daddy?”
“Fine. I’m still trying to get him to retire, but you know your father. He and that mail bag will be buried together.”
Lacy’s father, Martin, had been carrying the mail since before her birth. The postal service was his life. “He’ll retire when he’s ready.”
“I know, I know, but the doctor says his back won’t get any better until he does.”
“Well, give him my love and tell him I’m okay.”
“I will, but he’ll want to hear that for himself, so call him back tonight if you get a chance.”
“Okay.”
“Now, tell me about the accident.”
Lacy spent the next few minutes relating her tale of snow and woe.
Val’s response was, “Told you not to move to that wasteland. If the Good Lord had wanted us to live in snow, She would’ve given us fur.”
Lacy laughed. Val firmly believed the Almighty was female.
Her mother then asked, “Do you know who hit you?”
“Yep. The mayor’s driver.”
For a moment there was silence on the other end, then, “Your mayor? Mayor Randolph?”
“The one and only.”
“Was he in the car?”
“Yes. In fact, he’s here with me at the hospital.”
“Well, now,” her mother said in a knowing voice. “He’s a real cutie.”
Lacy said through her smile, “Don’t start, Mama.”
“I’m not starting anything. Just saying you could do worse, baby.”
“Already been there, done that. Remember?”
“All I remember is me telling you not to get married in the first place, but you knew more than anybody back then. Remember?”
Lacy’s smile was now tinged with embarrassment. “I remember.” Val had all but begged her daughter not to marry the much older Wilton Cox, but Lacy had dug in her heels and refused to listen.
“Is Randolph as fine as he is in his pictures?”
Lacy looked over at His Fineness standing just outside the door, talking on his own phone, and reluctantly admitted, “Yes.”
“If he asks you out, say yes.”
Lacy raised her eyes to heaven for strength. “He isn’t going to ask me out. He’s just here because of the accident. If we go anywhere, it will be to court.”
“Be nice. Just because you fell and skinned your knee once doesn’t mean you can’t get back on the bicycle.”
“I’m not looking for anyone right now, Mama.”
“I know, baby. I know. Studley’s enough to make any woman celibate.”
They both laughed. Studley was Val’s name for Lacy’s ex, Wilton Cox. According to the media, Wil was one of America’s most trusted Black leaders, but Lacy knew him to be an arrogant, self-promoting son of a bitch whose manipulative and adulterous ways led to a very public—all over the newspapers—divorce. She didn’t think him qualified to lead anything or anybody, anywhere.
Her mother didn’t either, and Lacy could hear it in Val’s voice when she said, “He was here in Atlanta last weekend rallying folks for something or other. Had the streets all tied up. But enough about him.”
Lacy agreed.
“Let me know how the X rays turn out. Like I said, if you need me, I can come.”
“I’ll be okay, don’t worry.”
“I’m supposed to worry. I’m your mama.”
Lacy chuckled. Through the exam room’s open door she could see Drake and Carson heading her way. Carson carried a large brown envelope that she assumed held the film. “I have to go, Ma. The mayor’s coming.”
“Okay, baby. Tell that cutie I say hello, and don’t forget to call back and talk to your father.”
“Will do. Love you.”
“Love you more,” Val replied affectionately. “’Bye.”
“’Bye.” Lacy closed the phone.
The X ray showed no broken bones but lots of bruising. While the mayor looked on, Reg Carson explained, “The injury to your ankle was probably caused by you standing on the brake when you spun out. It’s a natural reaction in situations like that to want to stop the car. Your neck’s fine too, but the soreness and stiffness may be with you for a while.”
Lacy was relieved that the injuries weren’t real serious.
“I’ll prescribe something for the pain. A few days of staying off of it and some ice should have you back on your feet good as new.”
“Thanks,” she said genuinely.
“You’re welcome. Excuse me a minute. Need to talk to Denise.”
As he and Denise consulted outside, Lacy discreetly checked out the mayor standing across the room. He was checking her out too, which made her look away. All the hype surrounding how fine he was certainly was warranted. His well-cut hair, medium brown skin, and sexy moustache, coupled with his height and build in the black suit and the long, black, GQ cashmere coat, added up to a man any sister would be proud to call her own. Any sister but Lacy. Her marriage to Cox had left her gun-shy. Even though the divorce had been five years ago, she hadn’t allowed herself to get emotionally involved with another man since.
Dr. Carson reentered the room and said, “Before I wrap your ankle, let me write the scrip. Denise needs to get back to her other patients but she’ll have one of the aides run it up to the pharmacy.”
Lacy was then asked a series of doctor-type questions about her allergies and so forth. When he seemed satisfied with her answers, he scribbled on the white prescription pad he’d pulled from his pocket and ripped the sheet free. He handed it to Denise, who took off to find the aide.
Reg said, “I’ll get some tape and be right back.”
His exit left her and the mayor alone. Neither said anyt
hing at first. Lacy sent a few glances his way, only to find him watching her intently. She quickly turned away again, then said, “Um, how long have you been a doctor?”
“About ten years.”
“Which do you like more, being mayor or a doctor?”
Drake shrugged. “Not sure. It’s a question I’ve been asking myself a lot lately, though.”
She waited for him to explain.
“I miss helping patients, but I also like helping the city.” He then asked, “Where are you from originally?”
“Atlanta.”
“Thought I heard the South in your voice.”
She smiled. “My parents still live there. What about you? Are you a native Detroiter?”
“Yep. Born, bred, and raised. Just like my mother and my four sisters.”
Lacy couldn’t hide her surprise. “You have four sisters?”
He nodded. “I’m the baby.”
“Baby boy. They must be real proud of you.”
“They are. Between them and my brothers, I get plenty advice on how to run the city.”
“You have brothers too? How many?”
“Two.”
“Seven kids. That’s a big family.”
“My brothers are steps. They didn’t live with us.”
“Oh.”
“Doesn’t stop them from telling me what to do, though.”
Lacy replied knowingly, “Everybody has an opinion, I take it?”
“Exactly.”
“If I was mayor, I know my mother would call me every morning telling me what I should be fixing.”
He chuckled. “That’s my mother. Every morning around eight-thirty. Most times she’s right, though, so I don’t mind.”
The story made him more human in Lacy’s eyes. There was now a bit of substance added to her image of the rich and handsome bachelor mayor.
“My apology again for the accident,” he offered genuinely. “Burton was driving entirely too fast.”
“Yes he was.” She wondered how many women would have already given him their number by now. Thousands, probably.
“How’s the ankle?”
“It’s awake and yelling.”
His lips thinned. “Hopefully the pain meds will put it to sleep long enough for you to get home and relax.”
Black Lace Page 2
