“Give me an example.”
“Okay, I met this gentleman at Maxwell’s nightclub. He was very attractive, well groomed, and had good conversation. When I asked him if he was married or had kids, he said no. Then he went on to tell me about a successful cleaning business he owned. Well, the following weekend we’re driving down Richmond Avenue in his Navigator. Out of nowhere this woman with two kids in the back of her car pulls up next to us, screaming at the top of her voice. She sideswiped us a couple of times, then cut us off in the middle of the street.”
“Don’t tell me, it was his wife!”
“Oh, no, it’s much better than that; it was one of his three babies’ mamas. Turns out the car he was driving was hers. She cursed him out so bad I almost felt sorry for him.”
“What about his cleaning business? Don’t tell me that was a front, too?”
“Chile, please! Two days before that incident I talked my boss into hiring him to clean our office building. Can you believe this clown shows up with a wet vac from Sears, three plastic buckets, and two Mexicans? I was so embarrassed I took two weeks’ vacation just to avoid my coworkers.”
“It’s obvious that he was a real busta,” I said. “But what about the good men out there who are misjudged?”
Mitch’s head sprung up from the control board. He knew I was about to vent.
“What do you mean?” Gloria asked.
“I’m saying that sometimes women have a tendency to jump to conclusions without all the facts. For example, I have a friend whose girlfriend saw a woman get into his car. Should that affect her trust?”
“Not necessarily!”
“And let’s say that the next day that man has a hickey on his body, maybe on his neck; does that make him a cheater?”
“Hold up a second, Julian. Your friend needs to put the shoe on the other foot,” she said wisely. “If his woman came home with a mark on her neck, back, ass—whatever, he’d drop her in a split second,” Gloria asserted. “And besides, what kind of explanation could he possibly have, that his neck accidentally fell against her mouth while she was sucking? Give me a break!”
“But what if—”
“What if nothin’.” She cut me off. “Now, I listen to you give advice five days a week, and to your credit, it’s pretty good,” she said. “Now, take some advice from a fifty-year-old veteran—perception is reality. If a man puts the wrong perception out there for his woman to see, then he must deal with the reality of the consequences.”
I had to pause for a second to let that marinate. She broke me down and read me like a Dr. Seuss book. Even if I wanted to play it off, I couldn’t.
“You’re right,” I sighed. “Thanks for the honesty and the insight—veteran!”
“Anytime, Mr. Payne,” she said graciously. “And I hope everything works out for your friend. Sounds to me like he’s got a little drama in his life.”
“Don’t we all?”
Mitch was frantically waving his hands. When I checked the clock on the console I realized why: it read 2:02.
“That’s it for me tonight, Houston. Thanks for allowing me into your homes, your hearts, and your minds—peace.”
Mitch hurried out of the control room and into the studio. He switched on the lights and came over to where I was sitting.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he said while getting in my face. “You know better than to air out your personal issues on the air!”
“Whatever.”
“Whatever? Is that all you have to say?”
“Back up off me, man!” I stood up and stepped toward him. “You work for me, not the other way around, remember?”
“Boy, if I was ten years younger I’d wipe the floor with your sorry ass!” He put his hand in my face. “Now I know you’re hurting over this thing with Terri, but don’t you ever allow it to affect our show. That’s right, I said our show because I help put this together. When the day comes that you forget that, it will be the day you can do this by your damn self.”
As he turned to walk away he knocked over the wobbly cart rack. Hundreds of tapes scattered on the floor. “Damnit, not again!” he yelled out. We both bent down and started picking them up. While stacking the tapes on top of the console, I looked into his eyes and saw the pain that I caused him. I knew I had made a terrible mistake.
“Mitch, I’m sorry, man. I don’t know why I’m trippin’. I know I wouldn’t be here without you.”
He didn’t say anything at first; he just looked at me with that fatherly expression of disappointment. Then he stood up and spoke to me in a firm tone.
“You know, Julian, it’s not always easy working in the shadow of a celebrity. It takes a man with a lot of confidence to handle having women pass by him to get to the star. But I’ve had my moment in the spotlight and I’m secure enough to play my role in this relationship because that’s exactly what it is, a relationship. And there’re not too many couples who make it five years, let alone fifteen.” He paused. “What I’m trying to say is, I’ve always seen your success as my success. My job was to put you in the best position to win! And I take a lot of pride in what I do and I’m damn good at it. So the next time you even think about putting another person down, remember—no man is an island. We all need help to get to where we want to go.”
“I hear you, Mitch. What can I say? It’s another lesson learned.” I extended my hand. “Still friends?”
He tried to play stubborn, but Mitch was always a sucker for a genuine apology.
“Yeah, still friends,” he said under his breath. “But don’t ever disrespect me like that again! Next time, I’ll turn up the voltage on your mic and shock your big ass to death!”
“Deal,” I said as we shook hands and embraced. “Now, go home to your wife. I’ll pick up the rest of these tapes.”
“Are you sure? The last time you knocked over this rack it took me a half hour to put them back in alphabetical order.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Now get the hell outta here!”
After Mitch programmed the station for the morning crew, he grabbed his things and left. I sat down on the floor and got comfortable while I put the tapes in order. There was no need to rush. I didn’t have anyplace to go.
A few minutes into stacking the tapes, I noticed that some had fallen underneath the console. I got down on my stomach to reach them. Suddenly I heard the studio door swing open. I knew it couldn’t have been Mitch, because I’d seen his car pull out of the underground parking. As I turned over onto my side, my heart pounded like a drum. Before I could twist completely around to see who it was, I heard a voice.
“I love the smell of those candles; what is that, jasmine?”
“Terri? You scared the shit out of me!”
“Who did you think I was—Olivia?”
I paused for a second, then went back to stacking tapes.
“I see you’ve been talking to Mitch. How much did he tell you?”
“Everything! Even the part about the hickey—which I still find a little hard to believe.” She laughed, then she bent down and joined me on the floor. “Can I give you a hand?”
“Terri, I know you didn’t come here at two o’clock in the morning to help me stack tapes.”
“I was already downstairs in my office catching up on some work. Maybe that’s where I wanted to be. It was the excuse I needed to see you.”
“You still haven’t told me why you’re here,” I said with attitude.
“Don’t be like that, Julian. You know I came here to tell you I was sorry. Sorry for not listening to your explanation, and most of all, sorry for not trusting you.”
“It took you four weeks and a visit from Mitch to finally open up? And what if he hadn’t come to see you? Would we be talking right now?”
“Baby, what difference does it make? What’s important is that I’m here.”
“I’ll tell you what’s important. What’s important is that I expected you to be more open-minded.”
“Come on,
Julian, how did you expect me to react when my man shows up with a big hickey on his neck like a teenager?” she said. “I was hurt!”
“I was hurt, too! My sleep is all messed up, I’m snapping at Mitch every night, and my issues with you are starting to affect my show.”
“Yeah, so I heard. Gloria sure broke you down.” Terri laughed. “For a minute, I thought she was hosting the show.”
I laughed, too. Although I didn’t show it, I missed the sound of her laugh and her bright smile. And she was looking good, too. She had on a tight blouse and a pair of those spandex pants that showed every curve. While she was kneeling down, I couldn’t help looking between her legs. Terri was slightly bow-legged, and she had a gap that was sexy as hell. I had to hand it to her, she knew how to get a man’s undivided attention.
“So, where do we go from here, Mr. Relationship Expert?” Terri reached over and grabbed my hand. “I really do miss you, you know?”
“I miss you too, baby. But I’ve got to know that from now on you’re going to trust me to do the right thing.”
“I promise.” She stood up and walked toward me. “And baby, just so you know, you were always in my thoughts. I just needed time to get my head together. Like I told you, I’m not going anywhere. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever.”
We held one another. I was holding her so tight I could feel her heartbeat. She stroked the back of my head while kissing me gently on the neck. “I missed you, Julian,” she spoke softly into my ear. “God, how I missed you!” Then we kissed.
We were so into each other we didn’t notice we were crushing the tapes on the floor.
“This raggedy-ass rack is gonna get somebody killed one of these days,” I said.
“Yeah, I know. I knocked it over yesterday while I was on the air.”
As we continued to pick up the tapes, I sensed that Terri had something she wanted to say. I knew what it was, so I broke the silence.
“The answer is no.”
“No, what?”
“No, I haven’t heard from Olivia,” I said. “I think she’s finally got the message.”
“Julian, I deal with these types of obsessive disorders every day. There are cases where patients receive treatment and then years later kill the person they’ve been stalking. I’m not trying to scare you, but you need to understand that Olivia could still be dangerous.”
“Thanks for the warning, Doc,” I said nonchalantly, “but I have this under control.”
Chapter 31
WHEN I MADE it home later that night, Juanita was asleep on the sofa. She still had the remote in her hand with the television tuned to NBA TV. I shook her by the shoulder to wake her.
“Hey, Julian. What time is it?”
“It’s three thirty.”
“Time flies when you’re watchin’ hoops.” She stood up and grabbed her purse off the counter. “There must have been eight different games on at once.”
“So, how did Houston do tonight?”
“Steve Francis dropped thirty-six points on the Lakers.”
“All right, Rockets!”
“Yeah, but they still lost. Kobe Bryant hit another last-second shot. That bucket cost me twenty bucks!”
As I escorted her to the door, I handed her a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill.
“Well, here’s a little something extra for staying late for the past few weeks,” I said to her. “Now go home and get some sleep—Laker Hater.”
“Why thank you, Mr. Payne,” she said. “And by the way, I’m not a Laker Hater, just a Rocket Lover. See ya tomorrow!”
I went upstairs to check on Samantha. I was so caught up with my work that I had hardly laid eyes on her in two days. When I opened her bedroom door she was diagonal on her canopy bed, nearly hanging off the edge. She looked precious all twisted up in her pink comforter with her arms wrapped around a stuffed animal. Just looking at her little brown face melted my heart.
But it was my unconditional love that blinded me to my responsibilities as a parent. Ever since the incident with Terri, Samantha had been walking around with an attitude and giving me the silent treatment. I should have dealt with that issue right after it happened, but instead I let weeks go by. That only made me appear ashamed and guilty. Now that Terri and I were back together, I had all the incentive I needed to put my foot down. If that didn’t work, there was always the good old-fashioned ass whippin’.
“Get your rest, Princess,” I whispered while closing her door. “Tomorrow morning, we’re gonna have a long talk.”
Instead of going to bed, I threw a few items in my gym bag and went downstairs to get my groove on while I showered. I lit two scented candles and placed one inside the shower door and the other on the counter. Then I dragged the stereo speakers in from the living room. I turned the radio dial to Magic 102, hoping they would play something smooth and relaxing. Just as I was taking off my drawers, “Smooth Operator” by Sade came on. “Now that’s right on time!” I turned off the lights, peeled off the rest of my clothes, then stepped into the steamy shower.
As the water ran over my head and down my back, I closed my eyes and sang along to the lyrics. “He’s a smooth operator… Smooth … operator.” The tempo was so smooth, so relaxing, so—Sade. What would it be like to get with a woman so classy and deep? I was thinking. But Sade was only a voice, Terri was real. She’s my fantasy come true.
I chilled out in the shower listening to one cut after another. “Portuguese Love” by Tina Marie, “Devotion” by Earth, Wind & Fire, and the classic, “Strawberry 22” by The Brothers Johnson. I turned the lever until the water was so hot I could hardly bear it. Steam filled the small room, fogging the mirrors and the glass shower doors. “Ah,” I sighed. “If only Terri was here to wash my back.”
I was jammin’ so hard I completely lost track of time, but when the skin on my fingertips began to wrinkle I knew it was time to get out. I turned off the water and stepped out onto the floor mat. After putting on some lotion I walked over to turn the light switch on—that’s when I saw something that shocked me.
The words TRICK OR TREAT? were written in bold letters in the middle of the fogged mirror. Time stood still. The sound of the radio faded into complete silence and my heart pounded so hard it echoed in my ears. I tried not to panic as I slipped on my drawers. I turned down the volume on the radio, then reached underneath the sink for my pipe wrench. I grasped it tightly and stepped out into the living room.
When I saw that she wasn’t there, I checked the living room, then the kitchen and pantry, but there was no sign of her. Then I remembered. “Oh, shit, Samantha!” I said out loud. I rushed up the stairs so fast I fell down twice. All sorts of horrible visions flashed through my mind as I came closer to her bedroom door. Was she dead, kidnapped? I thought to myself. I stopped short of the door and cocked the pipe wrench back so I would be ready to deliver a blow. I pushed the door open slowly and looked inside. “Thank God!” I sighed as I lowered the wrench. Samantha was still sound asleep.
Suddenly I heard the sound of screeching tires. I rushed down the stairs, out the front door, then into the street. I caught a glimpse of a dark-colored SUV as it turned the corner. It was too dark to make out a face or a license plate number, but I knew who it was.
As I stood in the middle of the street at four o’clock in the morning wearing nothing but my drawers, I knew I would never have peace in my life again, not until Olivia got what she wanted—or one of us was dead.
Part V: (November)
Chapter 32
I WAS PEELING a bag of potatoes when I saw smoke coming from the grill in the backyard. I grabbed a bottle of water off the counter and rushed outside to pour it over the fire. “Mitch will never let me hear the end of this.” Just then I heard a car pulling into the driveway. When I heard Luther Vandross blaring from the speakers, I knew who it was.
“Daddy, Daddy, it’s Uncle Mitch!”
“Aw, hell, it’s Chef Boyardee himself,” I said, then I quickly put the lid over the
grill.
On my way out of the backyard, I fanned the smoke with both hands.
“Hey, Princess,” Mitch said while lifting Samantha into the air. “How’s my little Beethoven?”
“Bay who?”
“Never mind, just give your uncle a big hug!”
“Can I have a kiss, too, Uncle Mitch?” I joked as I walked up to the car.
“No, but you can help Betty with the bags while I go check on the meat. I can see you still can’t barbecue worth shit.”
“Samantha, forget you heard your uncle Mitch say that bad word,” I said.
“What bad word?” Samantha smiled as Mitch carried her into the backyard.
“Betty, how did you stay married to that brotha for twenty-five years?” I said while giving Betty a hug.
“I don’t know. How did you stay married to him for fifteen?”
“Beats the hell out of me, but it damn sure wasn’t his warm personality.”
I began unloading the groceries from the trunk while Betty lifted a large pot from the backseat.
“So, where’s Fast Eddie? Mitch told me he was bringing Denise down to celebrate their engagement.”
“He should be here any minute. He called about an hour ago to let me know they landed on schedule.”
“It’s about time he made a respectable woman out of that beautiful girl! I don’t know why she stayed with his cheating behind this long!”
“Stop hating on Eddie, Betty.”
“I’m not hatin’. I’m just keepin’ it real! I’ve known that boy since you and Mitch started working together, and he’s still the same slick-talking playa.”
“Well, you and Terri should have a lot in common, ’cause she can’t stand him, either.”
“I like her already.”
After I dropped the bags off in the kitchen, I called Samantha inside to give Betty a hand so me and Mitch could talk. He must of sensed I had news about Olivia, because he brought her up before I could.
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