Seduced by Mr. Right

by Pamela Yaye

  Frustrated, she crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently on the ground. Sharleen knew Jocelyn was upset about being fired, but she was taking things too far. She wasn’t answering her cell phone or responding to her text messages, and now she was blatantly ignoring her. What’s up with that? Why is she pushing me away? We’re supposed to be girls.

  To calm herself down, she counted to ten and inhaled a deep breath. As Sharleen stood on the porch, contemplating her next move, her thoughts turned to Emilio.

  Her mood instantly brightened, and a smile warmed her lips. They’d had a great time last night, and although Sharleen was annoyed with Antwan for tricking her, she’d enjoyed the one-on-one time with Emilio. He’d opened up to her, agreed to meet her at the Mind, Body & Soul Conference that afternoon and even promised to take her out for dinner. And that morning, as she was eating breakfast, he’d surprised her with a hilarious text message.

  Can I have a picture of you, so I can show Santa what I want for Christmas?

  She’d laughed so hard soy milk had spewed out of her mouth. For the past two hours, they’d been trading text messages, and every time his name popped up on her cell-phone screen her heart danced with excitement. Working with Emilio is going to be a challenge, but I know I can do it. I have to, or Brad will swoop in and steal him away—

  The front door creaked open. Sharleen felt her mouth fall open, but she quickly shut it. Jocelyn, the biracial cutie with the quick wit and flamboyant personality, was a mess. Her yellow bathrobe was wrinkled, stained with coffee, and her curly brown hair was disheveled. She looked exhausted, as if she hadn’t slept in weeks, and she was nervously shuffling her feet.

  “Jocelyn, how are you?” Sharleen knew it was a dumb question, regretted it the moment the words left her mouth, but she didn’t know what else to say. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. What are you doing here?”

  “Now, is that any way to greet your partner in crime?” Sharleen asked, giving her best friend a hug. “I haven’t heard from you in a few days, and I got worried. It’s not like you to ignore my calls, so I decided to stop by for a visit.”

  “I have a lot on my mind,” she mumbled. “I’m busy. You should go.”

  Ignoring her, Sharleen walked inside the house and kicked off her sandals. Glancing around the kitchen, she was shocked to see dishes piled high in the sink, the hardwood floors streaked with dirt and the overflowing garbage can.

  Sharleen opened the fridge, grabbed everything she needed to make breakfast and placed the ingredients on the granite countertop. “Sit,” she said, pointing at the table. “I’m making you a Sante Fe omelet, and you’re going to love it.”

  “Don’t bother.” Jocelyn dropped into a chair. “I’m not hungry.”

  “When was the last time you ate?”

  “Can’t remember.”

  Sharleen washed the vegetables, chopped them up and tossed them in a glass bowl. “How’s your mom doing? Has she been discharged from the hospital?”

  “No, they’re running additional tests and prepping her for surgery.”

  “Try not to worry. Your mom’s a fighter. She’ll pull through.”

  To reassure her, Sharleen squeezed her hand. Jocelyn had taken Sharleen under her wing when she started working at Pathways, and over the years they’d become closer than sisters. They had weekly girls’ nights, traveled together and spent holidays with Jocelyn’s fun-loving Bahamian family. After numerous visits to the ER, Mrs. Calhoun had been diagnosed with heart failure, but her cardiologist was confident her upcoming surgery would be a success.

  “When are you going to the hospital?” Sharleen turned on the stove, sprayed the frying pan with cooking oil and poured in the egg batter. “If it’s okay, I’d like to come with you.”

  Her face brightened. “My mom would love that. She asks about you all the time.”

  “Think I can get away with sneaking food into the hospital for her?”

  “If you do, she’ll love you even more!”

  “Then it’s worth the risk.” Sharleen pointed the spatula at Jocelyn. “But if I get arrested you better bail me out ASAP, or else.”

  The joke lightened the mood, caused the tension in the air to recede.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be at the Mind, Body & Soul Conference?” Jocelyn asked.

  “I wanted to check in on you, so I switched time slots with Christelle.”

  Jocelyn’s cell phone buzzed, and she glanced down at the screen. “Men are jerks,” she fumed. “They’re dogs who can’t be trusted, and we’re better off without them.”

  Not all of them, Sharleen thought. Emilio had a gentle nature, and she felt close to him, connected to him in a way she’d never experienced before. What was it he’d said? You’re the prettiest woman in the room... I had a great time with you tonight... Don’t make any plans for dinner. I’m taking you to Dolce Vita Atlanta for the culinary experience of a lifetime.

  “I wish I could get away for a while.” Jocelyn picked up a pack of cigarettes off the table and opened it. “If my mom wasn’t sick, that’s exactly what I’d do.”

  “You quit smoking, remember?”

  “I’m stressed. I need something to help calm my nerves.”

  “Then I’ll fix you a cup of coffee.” Sharleen snatched the lighter out of Jocelyn’s hand and stuffed it inside her back pocket. “Friends don’t let friends smoke.”

  “I really wish you’d leave. I’m not in the mood for your mouth today...”

  Pretending she didn’t hear her, Sharleen returned to the stove, whistling a tune. Arguing with Jocelyn would only make the situation worse, so she finished cooking breakfast and pretended not to notice her best friend glaring at her. Minutes later, she put the omelet on a plate, set it down on the table and said with a smile, “Bon appétit.”

  Jocelyn stared longingly at the pack of cigarettes.

  “Eat. You’ll feel better.”

  “Quit bossing me around,” she snapped.

  I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t acting like such a drama queen. Deciding to give Jocelyn space, she returned to the sink and put on rubber gloves. Sharleen loaded the dishwasher, swept the floor and emptied the garbage, all the while thinking about Emilio. It was hard not to. There was something about him that appealed to her, that touched her in a profound way, and she was looking forward to meeting up with him at the conference that afternoon. “Here’s your coffee,” Sharleen said, putting the ceramic mug on the table.

  “Sorry for snapping at you, but I’m having the day from hell.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Jocelyn shrugged. “What’s there to talk about? My life is ruined.”

  “There are other jobs and tons of great coaching centers right here in Atlanta.”

  “I shouldn’t have trusted Brad.” Her voice wobbled, cracked with emotion. “How could I have been so stupid? So desperate that I didn’t realize he was playing me?”

  Frowning, Sharleen sat down. “What does Brad have to do with you getting fired?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s too embarrassing.”

  “We’re friends. You can trust me.”

  Jocelyn lowered her eyes to the floor and hugged her legs to her chest.

  “I’d never betray you. You know that.”

  “I...” She stumbled over her words and paused to gather herself. “I slept with Brad.”

  “No! Why? You hate him more than I do!”

  “I know, but he showed up here with flowers and Chinese takeout on my birthday, and I caved. I was lonely, and for a while he helped me forget my problems.”

  Guilt consumed Sharleen, made her feel low. This was all her fault. If she’d spent last Monday night with Jocelyn, instead of working late, her friend wouldn’t be in a miserable funk
now. She’d make it up to her, would spare no expense. They were tighter than Gayle and Oprah, and Sharleen knew just what to do to lift her spirits. Front-row seats to the Rashad J concert were going to set her back hundreds of dollars, but Jocelyn was worth it. “You’re fabulous, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, especially that louse Brad.”

  “I know, but I thought I’d be married with two or three kids by now.”

  Sharleen didn’t know what to say. They’d had this conversation countless times before, as recently as last week, but nothing she said ever made Jocelyn feel better. So she just smiled sympathetically and nodded her head at the appropriate junctures.

  “I don’t expect you to understand. You’re still in your twenties.”

  “You’re right,” Sharleen conceded, determined not to argue with her best friend. “I don’t understand why you’re freaked about getting older, or why finding a husband is so important to you, but sleeping with Brad isn’t the answer. Hooking up with a colleague is asking for trouble.”

  “You can say that again. He’s a sloppy kisser, a selfish lover and a lousy lay.”

  “I’m not surprised. He’s got small feet and a huge ego!”

  Jocelyn laughed, but the lighthearted reprieve didn’t last long. Sadness clouded her features, and her shoulders sagged under the weight of her despair. “Brad cornered me in the staff room the next day, and when I refused to give him a blow job, he went off on me.”

  “What a pig,” Sharleen scoffed, disgusted. “He used to be a decent guy, but he changed when he got his master certification last fall. Unfortunately, he let success go to his head.”

  Silence fell over the room, and when Jocelyn finally spoke, her voice was strained with anguish. “Brad threatened me.” Her eyes filled with tears, and her lips trembled. “He said if I make trouble for him with Mrs. Fontaine, he’ll post naked pictures of me online.”

  “Jocelyn, ignore him. He’s bluffing.”

  “No...he’s not... He has pictures of me on his iPhone.”

  “They’re fakes,” Sharleen insisted. “People alter photographs all the time.”

  “They’re real. It’s definitely me. He must have taken them when I fell asleep.”

  Anger rose inside her, and as Sharleen listened to Jocelyn’s story unfold, she found it hard to control her temper. No wonder her friend was holed up inside the house, crying her eyes out; Brad was threatening to ruin her life. Jocelyn looked terrified, scared out of her mind, and for good reason. Brad McClendon was a lying, scheming manipulator who preyed on lonely women, and there was no telling what he’d do next.

  “I don’t know how much more of this I can take. He’s been calling and texting me nonstop, and I’m sick of it. I’m so stressed-out, I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

  A cold wind whipped through the kitchen, and a shiver zipped down Sharleen’s spine. The situation was worse than she’d thought. She had to act; she had to do something, but what? Should I confront Brad with what I know or go straight to Mrs. Fontaine? The answer eluded her, and the more she thought about it, the more confused she was.

  “I still can’t believe this is happening. I played right into his hands...”

  To comfort her, Sharleen rubbed her shoulders. Watching Jocelyn, seeing the anguished expression on her face, brought tears to her eyes. In all the years they’d been friends, she’d never seen her like this. Never, not once, not even when her fiancé broke things off last year. “This is wrong. We can’t let Brad get away with this.”

  Jocelyn kept her head down, didn’t look at her or respond.

  “We have to go to Mrs. Fontaine and tell her what happened.”

  “I already did. She didn’t believe me.”

  “What?” exploded out of her mouth in a deafening shout. “Why not?”

  “Because Brad met with her first and accused me of propositioning him at work.”

  Sharleen gasped. “He didn’t!”

  “Mrs. Fontaine fired me, and when I turned in my keys, she said if I try and contact any of my clients, she’ll sue me for breach of contract. Can she do that?”

  “Yes, unfortunately, she can.”

  Jocelyn sniffed and wiped her nose with the sleeve of her bathrobe. “This couldn’t have happened at a worse time. I just signed Zoe Archer-Ross—”

  “The actress? I didn’t know you were working with her.”

  “I was hired to be her sober coach,” she explained. “I balked when her agent first contacted me, but when he told me the studio would triple my hourly rate, I said hell yeah.”

  “Twelve hundred dollars a day is fantastic money. You’d be a fool to turn that down.”

  “I was planning to use that money to pay off my mom’s medical bills...” Her face crumpled, and tears spilled down her cheeks. “What am I going to do? She’s counting on me.”

  Sharleen took Jocelyn in her arms and held her tight. She hated to see her cry, and her own eyes teared up as she listened to Jocelyn sob. She felt defeated, as helpless as a child, but she tried to speak with confidence. “Don’t worry,” she said calmly. “Everything will be fine. I promise.”

  “How? Brad’s crazy, and Mrs. Fontaine turned her back on me.”

  “We’ll get through this together.” Sharleen didn’t recognize her own voice and feared she was going to break down, too. Pulling herself together, she cleared her throat and forced a smile. “I love you, but if you don’t quit drooling on my Versace blouse I’m out of here!”

  Jocelyn laughed through her tears. “Sorry about that.”

  “No worries. You can buy me another one when you get a fabulous new coaching gig.”

  “Do you think I’ll get hired on at another agency?”

  “I don’t think. I know,” she said, with a fervent nod. “You’re an amazing life coach and a savvy businesswoman. It’s just a matter of time before you get another job. I’m sure of it.”

  Pride filled Jocelyn’s eyes. “I’m going to go take a shower and get dressed.”

  Sharleen plugged her nose with one hand and waved the other in front of her face. “Good idea, girlfriend. You stink!”

  Wearing a bashful smile, Jocelyn stood and shuffled down the hallway.

  Brad messed with the wrong woman, and I’m going to make him pay! A plan began to formulate in her mind. Sharleen knew what she had to do. She had to get the VP job. It was the answer to her problems, the only way to get rid of Brad “The Snake” McClendon once and for all.

  Sharleen envisioned herself signing her new employment contract, moving into the large corner office with the cushy furniture and showing her arch nemesis to the door. The image heartened her, made her more determined than ever to beat Brad at his own game. Because once she was vice president of Pathways Center, she was going to find a way to get rid of Brad and rehire Jocelyn. For the first time since arriving at the house, Sharleen felt as if everything was going to be okay.

  Chapter 7

  Sharleen spotted Brad at the Pathways Center booth inside the Atlanta Convention Center and narrowed her eyes in disgust. He was nothing to write home about, but what he lacked in the looks department, he more than made up for in personality. He was great with people, especially the opposite sex. Women were gathered around the booth, batting their eyelashes and gazing adoringly at him, as if he were the man of their dreams.

  More like a nightmare with dimples!

  The sound of his loud, hearty chuckle made her skin crawl. She wanted to knee Brad in the groin for what he’d done to Jocelyn, but lashing out at her colleague—and her boss’s favorite employee—would only make the situation worse. Now, more than ever, she needed to keep a cool head. By the time Sharleen reached the booth Brad was alone, typing on his iPhone. The moment he saw her, he jumped to his feet and shoved his cell into his back pocket.

  “Hey,”
she said, forcing the word out through pursed lips.

  “There you are. I’ve been waiting to see your pretty face.” Brad glanced over his shoulder and licked his lips. “And that fat, juicy ass.”

  Sharleen glared at him. “What did you say?”

  “Cool your heels. It was a compliment.”

  “Keep your compliments to yourself. I don’t need them.”

  “FYI,” he said, with a wink. “I like when you’re feisty. It’s a turn-on.”

  Taking a giant step back, Sharleen reached into her purse, took out a pack of breath mints and shoved it into his hands. “Here. Take this. I insist.”

  His eyes darkened. “You think you’re hot stuff because you graduated from Duke, but I’m not impressed. You’re a second-rate life coach and everyone knows it.”

  Sharleen let his insult roll off her back and smiled brightly at everyone who passed their booth.

  “It’s too bad about Jocelyn getting canned, huh? In my opinion, it was long overdue...”

  Her eyes thinned, and her temper flared. Sharleen wanted to strangle Brad, to kill him with her bare hands. She imagined how good it would feel wringing his scrawny neck.

  “Have you spoken to Jocelyn recently?”

  Sharleen ignored the question, pretended she didn’t hear it. “’Bye, Brad. See you around.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for the rest of the day. Boss’s orders.”

  “All Pathways employees are entitled to man the booth for an hour,” she reminded him. “This is my time to hand out business cards and sign up new clients.”

  “You were supposed to be here from nine to ten.”

  “I switched time slots with Christelle.”

  “Too bad,” he said, with a dismissive shrug of his shoulders. “You snooze, you lose.”