Somebody's Gotta Be on Top

by Mary B. Morrison

Monica shook her head. “I’m leaving because I do not want to be here when you-know-who arrives.”

  “Aw, that’s no way to treat Donavon. I knew if I called, you’d say no.”

  “And I’m still saying no, no, and please leave.” Ciara wanted Donavon to stay. What was she thinking? Darius was her husband! Things were all wrong. Did she really love Darius if she wanted Donavon to stay?

  Donavon hugged Ciara, then grabbed two hands full of ass. “You know you want me.”

  Darius stood in the doorway frowning. “Um, umm.”

  Pushing Donavon away, Ciara said, “Donavon, please, leave. Darius, I can explain. It’s not what it seems.”

  “I’m not leaving. I was here first.” Donavon sat on the sofa, picked up the remote, and changed to ESPN.

  Darius stood near the doorway shaking his head at Ciara. “Either he goes, or I’m leaving. And if I leave, I’m not coming back.”

  “Donavon, get out!” Ciara yelled, pointing toward the door. Men. Now if she’d shown up at Donavon’s house unannounced and sat on his sofa ignoring his wife, Donavon would have a fit. What in the hell was wrong with Donavon?

  Darius turned off the television and said, “I have to take a piss. Brother, you best be gone when I return.”

  Ciara waited until she heard Darius close the bathroom door, then said, “Solomon, please. Just go. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Solomon? Did you just call me Solomon?” Donavon questioned.

  Ciara shoved Donavon outside and locked the door.

  Darius re-entered the living room. He smiled. “Smells good. What did you cook? I’m hungry.”

  If Darius didn’t mention the name Donavon, Ciara wouldn’t break down again over Solomon. Ciara tried faking her happiness. “How was work?”

  “Fine. But I can’t stay.”

  “Again?”

  Darius said, “You think you can have some nigga up in here, then have me up in here? You must be crazy.”

  Ciara stood and said, “Is that what you’re thinking? I fucked him?”

  “Feeling guilty? Don’t. I’m a busy man. I don’t have time to babysit my wife. I need you to sign these documents. And I better not see that nigga up in my house ever again or I will burn this place to the ground with you and him in it.” Darius ate in silence. He wiped his lips, handed Ciara a pen, turned to the signature page, and said, “Sign here.”

  “I need to read this first. Leave them and I’ll drop them off tomorrow.”

  “Don’t make me waste my time. Just because I’m quiet doesn’t mean you don’t have some explaining to do. I’m running late. Sign here and I’ll have a messenger deliver copies to your office tomorrow.”

  Ciara hesitated.

  Darius yelled, “Sign the damn papers, Ciara!”

  Ciara watched Darius as she scribbled her signature. She could hear her father say, don’t sign nothing without reading it at least three times. Since everything bad came in threes, Ciara figured with Darius being husband number four, he couldn’t be too bad. But Ciara hadn’t witnessed that part of Darius’s personality before. Darius had just better pray Ciara didn’t flash on his ass.

  CHAPTER 26

  The closing on Kevin’s first home, a four-bedroom house in Long Beach, was scheduled for eleven o’clock. Kevin had spent almost five thousand dollars on clothes the past weekend. Sean John, Steve Harvey, and Kenneth Cole suits. Shoes, shirts, and coordinating accessories. Soon he’d dress as exquisitely as Darius. Before showering in his one-bedroom Compton apartment, Kevin left the bathroom door open then turned on the hot and cold water. Dark orange water flowed into the tub. Kevin turned on the water in the vanity. The same discolored water flowed from the faucet.

  “No use in wasting five minutes waiting for the water to clear,” Kevin said, returning to his bedroom. A gray suit, matching shoes, black shirt, and designer tie lay on his queen-sized Yankees comforter, which covered his full-sized bed. Socks and underwear were stuffed into a large cardboard box next to an overstuffed box of T-shirts. The walls were bare. No paintings. No pictures. Roaches scattered as he rumbled for his favorite boxers. Kevin was anxious to move out of the hood. If Darryl hadn’t spent his NBA paychecks impressing women, and paid for Kevin’s college education, like Jada had done for Darius, maybe Kevin wouldn’t have to steal Darius’s money.

  Kevin’s hair had grown long enough for twists. In about six months to a year his hair would completely lock. Kevin had swindled over six hundred thousand dollars from Darius’s business account. Initially one million was all Kevin wanted. When advance checks from Parapictures started arriving for Candice, Kevin withheld signing off on payments to Candice and increased payments to NyVek.

  Ashlee was smart. But Kevin was smarter. Ashlee secured the blank checks for Somebody’s Gotta Be on Top in the safe and locked her door when she left the office, which was always late. Eight, nine, sometimes ten o’clock at night. Lately, any excuse seemed better than Ashlee going to Darius’s empty home. By the time Kevin would convince Ashlee to live with him, he’d have a job working elsewhere. The easiest way for Kevin to control his cash flow was to slip into Ashlee’s office while she chaired one of her departmental meetings. Kevin photocopied a blank check from Darius’s business checkbook, and ordered duplicates—with a higher series of numbers—from one of those advertisements for check orders in his neighbor’s Sunday paper.

  Kevin stepped into the white chipped porcelain tub and closed the soiled shower curtain. Happily he sang, “I thought I told that we won’t stop . . .” until the warm water ran scolding hot. “Shit! I hate this apartment!” Kevin jumped from underneath the shower head and yelled, “How many times have I told you not to flush while I’m taking a shower!” to his neighbor above who’d just flushed her toilet. Kevin knew she heard him through the thin walls. Just like he’d heard her moaning while fucking herself every night with a noisy vibrator. Drying off the remaining suds, Kevin slid the shower curtain aside.

  “Seven! It can’t be seven already.” Kevin raced to the bedroom, dressed, and drove to work, praying his car wouldn’t break down on the freeway again. Tomorrow Kevin was picking up his customized Escalade. When Kevin turned on his radio, an author by the name of Gloria Mallette was talking about her book The Honey Well. Kevin shook his head. While living in Harlem, he’d witnessed how some mothers sold their daughters’ virginity then forced their little girls into prostitution.

  “Damn, that screenplay would knock. Shit, I’ve seen so much, I can co-direct the movie.” Kevin stuck his earbud headset into his ear and dialed the number to the studio.

  “Caller, you’re on.”

  “Yeah, I have question for Ms. Mallette.”

  “Go ahead man, she’s listening.”

  “Are you live in the studio?”

  “Yes,” Gloria casually answered.

  “Are you available for dinner? I’d like to discuss a movie option for The Honey Well.”

  The host interrupted, “Man, if you’re talkin’ real dollars, hold on. Otherwise hang up.”

  Kevin visualized having his own movie production company. Kevin dreamt of the possibilities of becoming one of Darius’s competitors.

  “This is Gloria.”

  “Yeah, Gloria. Thanks for taking my call. I’m serious about the option.” Kevin could’ve pissed in his new suit when she agreed to meet him for dinner. “Okay, I’ll meet you at seven.”

  Parking next to Darius’s Bentley, Kevin smiled. Darius was young and dumb to have allowed Kevin to gain control of the San Francisco office too. Kevin arrived in the office two hours before his closing.

  Kevin smiled than tapped on Darius’s glass window.

  “Hey, man. Come in and close the door.” Darius motioned for Kevin to sit. “That little plan for Donavon to show up at Ciara’s front door worked. She signed the papers.”

  Kevin knew women weren’t complicated. Create chaos. Blame her. While she’s feeling guilty, get what you want immediately. Then split still leaving her feeling gu
ilty.

  “Good. I told you you can trust me. I’m leaving at ten o’clock. Got a few meetings to attend,” Kevin said, straightening his jacket.

  Darius frowned. “With who?”

  “A possible new client. And an insurance company. With all the new changes, we need more coverage.”

  Darius nodded. “Good looking out. In fact, I’ll join you.”

  “Naw, mein. That won’t be necessary.”

  “I’m not asking to join you,” Darius said, easing on his jacket.

  “You da boss. Okay, give me a few minutes. I’ll be right back.”

  Kevin raced to his office. He dialed Darryl’s number.

  “Hey, old man. I need a favor. Call Darius in three minutes. I need for you to get him away from me so I won’t miss my appointment.”

  “What appointment?”

  Kevin ran his hand over his twists. “I’ll tell you later, old man. You’ll be proud of me.”

  “You know Angel won’t forward my calls to Darius.”

  “Make her.”

  “And tell Darius what?”

  “I don’t know. Make up something. Say you have a friend interested in auditioning for a lead role. Then ask him to hook you up.” Kevin hung up when Darius entered the room.

  “You ready?” Darius asked.

  “Yeah, just a second.”

  Angel appeared at Kevin’s office. “Mr. Jones, you have a call from Darryl.”

  “I told him . . . send his call through to Kevin.”

  “I asked if he wanted me to do that. He said no. He needed to speak with you.”

  Darius looked at Kevin. “I’ll be ready in a minute, man.”

  “Okay, “ Kevin said, thumbing through the papers in his in-basket.

  As soon as Darius exited the stairway, Kevin raced to the elevator, then to his car. With an hour and thirty minutes to spare, Kevin went to Lucy’s spa and relaxed in the sauna, thinking about ways to avoid going to prison for fraud or embezzlement. Maybe buying the house would attract attention from undesirables. The Feds. The IRS. Maybe he should find a nicer apartment and chill until his plan was fully implemented. The thought of living in that apartment one more day, convinced Kevin to take his chances and buy the house.

  CHAPTER 27

  MONROE, JONES AND COMPANY. The gold-plated sign was prominently displayed outside the solid oak double doors below the inscription CIARA MONROE CASTING AGENCY. Darius swiped his electronic security key card and entered.

  “Hello, Mr. Jones,” Megan said cheerfully. “Ms. Monroe is waiting for you.”

  Darius imagined Megan playing Candice in the movie. Megan would do okay. Lisa Raye would be better. “You takin’ care of those kids?”

  Megan emphatically replied, “No, sir. That’s why I have a stay-at-home husband.”

  Darius nodded upward. Sucker. A real man, even if he were unemployed, wouldn’t stay at home babysitting his kids. That was a woman’s job.

  Ciara hurried to Darius with open arms. “Hi, baby. I missed you.”

  Good. Maybe Ciara had learned her lesson and stopped cheating on Darius with Donavon. Donavon, after promising he wouldn’t, told Ciara that he was paid to show up at her front door unannounced. Darius lied, convincing Ciara that Donavon was bitter and jealous. Regardless, the documents were already signed.

  Darius kissed Ciara and lied, “I missed you too.” This morning’s lovemaking session with Ciara was worth seconds. Short. Sweet. Unforgettable.

  “I’m so excited,” Ciara said, motioning for Darius to sit. “I finally figured how to keep production moving.”

  “Really? How?” Darius sat on the edge of Ciara’s desk.

  “Well, I don’t think we should put the movie on hold like you’d mentioned—”

  “Correction, the hold idea was my mother’s. She doesn’t like your changes to the screenplay.”

  “Keeping it real. Your mother doesn’t want to be labeled a woman gone wild, freakazoid, porn star. You name it. But baby. Since we’re married, what do you think about us, Ciara Monroe Casting Agency and Somebody’s Gotta Be on Top financing the five million–dollar shortfall. That way we won’t have to seek out another investor.”

  That was a possible solution but five million, even two point five, meant Darius had to appeal to his mother for support. That was the best idea Ciara had originated since Darius had partnered with her. But Darius doubted his mother would loan him that much money on short notice. Darius replied, “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Let’s see what else we can propose at the meeting.”

  “We don’t have time. We’re not prepared to present anything else. Plus, everyone is in the conference room waiting on us.”

  “Then let’s go.” Darius straightened his slacks, shirt, and jacket.

  Ciara locked her purse inside her safe. “I’m ready. But do you have a better suggestion?”

  “Just let me take the lead in the meeting,” Darius said, walking ahead of Ciara. Darius sat at the head of the table, Ciara to his right and Tony to his left. Ashlee, Kevin, and Ciara’s secretary were present.

  “Good, I see everyone is here,” Darius acknowledged, scanning the agenda.

  “Jones, you’re late,” Tony said, raising his sleeve and looking at his watch. “I have another meeting to attend. All I need to know is have you figured out a way to make my investment good?”

  Darius eyed Ciara, then looked at Tony. “Tony, it’s not our fault you exceeded the budget and don’t have enough money to continue filming.”

  “Correction, Jones. I do have the money. I simply refuse to pay for the added cost of making your changes to the screenplay. Since your mother requested the changes, your mother should pay the five million.” Tony pointed at his watch. “Time is money, Jones. What are you going to do?”

  “Let’s meet again in three days. We’ll find another investor.” Tony was right. His mom should pay. But convincing his mother would take time.

  “Jones, do you realize how much money,” Tony rubbed his fingers together, “I’m losing daily? I don’t have three days to give you. Either you find five mil today, or I tell my crew to break down the sets.”

  Kevin cleared his throat. “I have a suggestion. I’ve drafted a proposal along with a phase-in budget on page nine that will allow everyone to prosper.” Kevin retrieved the packages from his briefcase and passed five copies to his left for everyone at the table. “If Ciara Monroe Casting Agency contributes two million dollars and Somebody’s Gotta Be on Top invests three million dollars we won’t require an additional investor. CMCA can phase in five hundred thousand every eight weeks and Somebody’s can phase in seven hundred fifty thousand dollars every eight weeks, and we can resume production as early as tomorrow morning. Since production for The Honey Well doesn’t start for another three months, Somebody’s can leverage its portion of the advance against Soul Mates Dissipate.”

  “Mmmm.” Tony kissed his fingertips, smiled, then nodded. “Jones, I like Williams. Whatever you do Jones, keep Williams on your team. That’s the smartest idea I’ve heard yet. You agree?”

  Darius felt Ciara staring at him. Darius looked at Tony. “Yeah, in fact, I just discussed a similar proposal with Ciara moments ago but I wanted to explore all options before liquidating any of my corporate assets.”

  “It takes money to make money, Jones. You’re a smart man. I’ve put my ass on the line for this project. Make it happen. I gotta go. Williams, call me.” Grabbing Kevin’s package, Tony exited the meeting so fast he practically ran out the door.

  Ciara glanced around the table. “Meeting adjourned. Kevin, I’ll call you later. Darius, I need to speak with you. In my office.”

  Who in hell did Ciara think she was talking down to him? Darius followed Ciara into her office and slammed the door. “Don’t you ever embarrass me in a meeting! You hear me?”

  Ciara opened and closed her hand mimicking a puppet, then muffled, “Just let me take the lead in the meeting.” Speaking normally, Ciara continued, “Why d
idn’t you listen to me? You’re making me look bad in front of our partners. Partners who don’t even know we’re married.”

  Yeah, that’s right. They were married. Darius frowned. “Look, it’s just that you hadn’t thought out the idea. You just came up with the idea a minute ago. I can handle this.”

  “What you need to handle is Kevin. He’s running your damn company and our company. Darius, he had a budget. A budget with projections of our money! A proposal we knew nothing about!”

  “Baby, calm down. Listen to me. You’re working too hard and I know you’re still grieving over Solomon. It’s time for you to take a vacation. Let me take care of Kevin.”

  “Vacation my ass! If you don’t handle Kevin, trust me, I will. And you will see the sapphire in Ciara like you’ve never seen before. I’ve worked too hard to build my reputation in this industry and I’ll be damned if you—” Ciara pointed at Darius. “Kevin—” Ciara pointed toward the conference room. “Or any,” her hand whirled in a circle, “or any damn body else will destroy what I’ve built! Now get the hell out of my office and close my door on your way out!”

  Darius walked out of Ciara’s office, left the door open, and drove to her home. Fortunately Monica’s car was gone. Darius used his key, entered, and went straight to Ciara’s private room where she kept her unlocked fireproof safe. What was the point in having a safe and not locking it? Darius searched through her files. Darius discovered Ciara owned joint stock with someone named Allen worth over ten million dollars. T-bills for six million. Real estate worth nine million. Darius frowned. Restaurants. Casinos. Gas stations. Darius choked. Marriage certificates. One was theirs. The other was foreign. From France? Allen Domen-geaux? Was Ciara a bigamist? Darius neatly replaced each paper. When he closed the vault, Monica was standing in front of his face.

  “What the hell are you doing going through Ciara’s safe?”

  Without saying a word, Darius brushed past Monica and left. Women. Darius swore they were more trouble than they were worth.

  CHAPTER 28

  Jada lay awake with her back to Wellington, silently thanking God for her blessings. She thought about her mother. Tears stained her silk pillowcase. Lord, why did you have to take her from me? The words to Luther Vandross’s Dance with My Father played in Jada’s mind, bringing forth more tears. Motherless. Fatherless. No aunts, uncles, or first cousins. The only persons Jada really had to love unconditionally were Wellington and no matter how out of control, Darius. Jada quietly prayed. Mama if you’re listening, and I know you are, please speak to Darius. I worry so much about him, Mama. He’s so stubborn. Just like Darryl. But Mama he always listened to you and only you. Jada buried her face in the pillow. The wetness stained the burgundy cloth.