Lady Arykah Reigns

by Nikita Lynnette Nichols

  Lance shrugged his shoulders again. “It wouldn’t bother me. Your past, Cheeks, is your past.”

  Arykah turned her attention to her computer. “Well, good. I’m glad you feel that way.”

  Lance sat in silence looking at Arykah.

  She felt his stare burning through her.

  “So, you got an ex-boyfriend working with you?”

  Arykah closed her laptop and stood from the sofa. “Come on, Diva Chanel,” she said over her shoulder. She left Lance sitting by himself. Two can play that game.

  At ten the next morning Arykah was greeted by her fellow real estate agents as soon as she entered the front door at Bowen Realty.

  “Welcome back.”

  She displayed the widest grin. “Thanks, everybody.”

  Three female agents approached Arykah and hugged her.

  “How are you?” Jacob, a male agent, asked Arykah.

  “I’m good, Jacob. Thank you.”

  Arykah walked to her desk and was surprised to see a large bouquet of red roses. She smiled and removed the small card from the envelope.

  Hope your first day back is a marvelous one. Have a superb day, Cheeks. Love, Lance.

  Her smile got wider. “Aw, he’s so sweet.” Arykah withdrew a single rose from the bouquet, brought it to her nose, and inhaled the beautiful scent.

  “You like the roses?”

  Arykah looked up and saw Lance standing ten feet from her. She smiled at the thought that he would see to it that she made it to work safely. Once it hit her that there was another reason why he might have shown up unannounced, she frowned.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Lance looked over his shoulder and scanned the office almost like he was looking for a specific person. “I missed you so much that I wanted to see you one more time before I headed to the construction company.”

  Arykah looked at him shamefully. Lance was the chief operating officer of Howell Construction on the far north side of Chicago. He split his time between there and Freedom Temple.

  “Really, Lance. You can’t do any better than that?”

  A handsome African American male agent approached Arykah. “Hey, Beautiful. I heard you were back.” He hugged her and admired Arykah’s wide-legged teal-green jumpsuit and cream-colored Granny Smith snakeskin peep-toe ankle boots. “You look good as always.”

  Lance looked from the guy to Arykah, then from Arykah to the guy.

  For Lance’s benefit, Arykah gave off a laugh like Betty Rubble from the Flintstones cartoon. She knew he was there to spy, and she wanted to give him something to see. She looked down at her outfit. “This old thing?”

  Lance didn’t know how long the jumpsuit had hung in Arykah’s closet, but he definitely witnessed her remove the price tag from it that morning. He decided to make his presence known. “Ahem.”

  Arykah saw a stern expression on Lance’s face. She loved it. “Um, Demetrius, please meet my husband, Lance.”

  Demetrius stepped to Lance and extended his right hand. “Oh, you’re Lance. It’s nice to meet you, man. I’ve heard a lot of things about you.”

  Lance accepted Demetruis’ hand into his own. “It’s good to meet you, Demetruis. How long have you known Arykah?”

  “I was hired three months before Arykah took her leave of absence. She’s really great.”

  “Yeah, she is,” Lance confirmed. He concluded that Demetruis wasn’t an ex-boyfriend.

  “It’s good having you back, Arykah,” Demetruis said and walked away.

  “You should be ashamed of yourself,” Lance said to Arykah. “Trying to make me jealous.”

  Arykah laughed out loud. “Did I follow you to your office, or did you follow me to mine?”

  “You don’t believe that I missed you and wanted to see you?”

  “Not even a little bit. Our home is southwest of Chicago, Lance. My office is waaaaay south of the city. Howell Construction is north. No. I don’t believe you followed me here because you missed me.”

  It was true. Lance had driven an hour out of his way, but he wasn’t leaving Arykah’s office without the information he came there for. “Do you have an ex working here or not?”

  Arykah sat at her desk and logged on to her desktop. “Thank you for the roses, Honey. You may go now.”

  He glared at her. “Arykah.”

  She looked up at him. “When I meet your ex, then you can meet my ex. Okay?” Arykah smiled and blew Lance a kiss. “Have a great day.”

  Five minutes after Lance left Arykah’s office, her extension rang.

  “Bowen Realty. Arykah Miles speaking.”

  “So you really did it, huh? You really left that California king-size bed and went to work?”

  Arykah smiled at Monique’s voice. “Girl, yes. I was bored at home.”

  “That’s why Adonis and I bought you Diva Chanel. She was supposed to keep you company while you recuperate.”

  “That dog eats, sleeps, and poops more than I do. Okay? That’s all Diva Chanel and I did. For the past five weeks, we ate a lot, slept all day, and pooped all night.”

  Monique laughed. “How does it feel to be back at the office?”

  “It feels great. I’m ready to get back in the swing of things. Lance sent me a beautiful bouquet of roses.”

  Arykah was in a good mood, and Monique wondered if Lance had told her about Angela Moore.

  “Speaking of Lance,” Arykah started. “He told me about his ex-girlfriend.”

  Monique was relieved that Lance did the right thing because she didn’t want to be the one to tell Arykah, but Monique was more than willing if Lance hadn’t.

  “I’m glad he did.”

  “How did you find out that Angela was a member at Freedom Temple?”

  “Yesterday when you were receiving your gifts and hugs from everyone, I saw two women at the back of the church whispering to each other and pointing at you. So I asked Darlita who they were. She told me that Sharonda was one and said that the other was the bishop’s ex-girlfriend, Angela Moore.”

  “Well, I thank you for having my back, Sis. If you hadn’t threatened Lance, he probably never would’ve told me.”

  “He told you that I threatened him?”

  Arykah chuckled. “No. But I know you. Of course, you threatened him.”

  Monique laughed. “Well, maybe I kinda sorta did. Hey, are we on for Friday night at your place?”

  “Girl, I’m gonna have to host the Fat Girl party next Friday. I had forgotten that I had scheduled my triple ‘A’ session at the church this Friday night.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” Monique said. “I read it in the church bulletin yesterday and didn’t put two and two together. Are you sure you’re up to being asked so many questions? You wanna expose yourself like that?”

  “I don’t have anything to hide, Monique. My life is an open book.”

  “Yeah, well, the problem with being an open book is that you allow everybody to read you any way they want to. You know how most of the women at Freedom Temple feel about you. What if someone asks you if you’re a gold digger?”

  “Then I’ll open my checkbook and show them my eight-figure bank balance. That would clear that rumor up real quick.”

  “Well, alrighty then, Miss Thang. Do you need help with anything?”

  “I’m glad you asked. I wanna give everybody a gift bag filled with candy and maybe a candle or something else that’s small and cute.”

  “Sure, I can take care of that for you. You think fifty gift bags would be enough?”

  “Mmm. Well, based on how many women welcomed me yesterday, I think we should prepare about one hundred fifty gift bags.”

  “You really think that many folks will show up?”

  “Yeah, I really do. Plus, I’d rather have more than enough than not enough.”

  “Okay,” Monique said. “What about food?”

  “Lance has agreed to cater the event.”

  “Great. Anything else?”

  “Yes. I nee
d you to reach out to the team and ask them to meet me at the church, in my office, at six p.m. on Friday, and tell them to wear pink.”

  “Mother Myrtle too?”

  “Definitely.”

  When Arykah disconnected the call from Monique she heard three knocks on her opened door. She looked and saw Sarah Zembowski, a Caucasian female coworker of hers. Like Arykah, Sarah was a top-selling real estate agent at Bowen Realty. Arykah and Sarah were fierce competitors but friendly with each other.

  “Welcome back, Arykah.”

  “Thanks, Sarah. It’s good to be back.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Great. Ready to kick your butt in sells.”

  “As if you could.”

  “Oh, you know I can.”

  Sarah chuckled. “You have anything lined up this morning?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I just received a call from my daughter’s principal.”

  Arykah knew that Sarah’s thirteen-year-old daughter, Jessica, was the apple of her mother’s eye. Sarah had been a single mother for the past ten years. Her husband, a Chicago firefighter, was visiting his parents in New York City on September 11th when tragedy struck the city. That dreadful morning after the first airplane hit the first tower, Sarah’s husband called her and said that he felt obligated to go and offer his services to the New York City fire department. That was the last time Sarah had heard her husband’s voice. Along with the entire country, Sarah watched the towers fall. Her husband, among hundreds of other people, was trapped in the stairwell of the second tower. He was killed.

  “Is Jessica okay?” Arykah asked.

  “Her principal said that she was vomiting and has a fever. I’m going to pick her up and take her to the emergency room.”

  “Aw, that’s too bad. I hope she’ll be okay.”

  “I’m sure she will. It’s probably just a bug.”

  “Well, I’ll be praying for Jessica.”

  “Thanks. Before Jessica’s principal called I was on my way to show a listing in North Barrington. I don’t wanna cancel on the client because I had to reschedule with him once already. I wanted to give you first dibs on it before I offered the appointment to someone else. Are you interested?”

  Kaching, kaching. Arykah heard the cash register ringing. North Barrington was considered one of the richest cities in Illinois. The top two sells of Arykah’s career were in North Barrington. It was a shame that Sarah had to pass it along to another agent, but Arykah was grateful that it fell into her lap.

  “Heck yeah, I’m interested. Tell me about the property.”

  “It’s a seven-bedroom, six-bath, new construction on Forest Glen Parkway. It has a first-floor master, an in-law suite, a guest house, a full finished walkout basement, and an inground pool. It’s listed for six-nine-nine.”

  The commission from a six million, 799 thousand-dollar sell would put Arykah over the top.

  “The client is Randy Brown.”

  Arykah’s heart skipped two beats. “The Chicago Bulls Randy Brown?”

  “Yes, he earned three championship rings with the Bulls. Randy is now the assistant general manager of the team.”

  “He’s married, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, his wife’s name is Tamara. She will not be at the appointment. Mr. Brown is purchasing a home as a surprise for her birthday.”

  Arykah lowered her head and glared at Sarah. “Shut the front door. Girl, what ?”

  Sarah laughed at the expression on Arykah’s face. “Yeah, that’s pretty much how I felt when he told me that.” Sarah glanced at her wristwatch. “The appointment is in an hour. You better get going.”

  Arykah was standing at the head of the driveway next to the four-car garage when a charcoal-gray, late-model, Range Rover drove up and parked at the end of the driveway on the street. Randy Brown exited the SUV, and Arykah’s body froze. He was dark skinned with a clean-shaven bald head.

  She panicked. Her heart started to race. She panted for air. Oh my God. It’s him.

  “Mrs. Howell?” Randy Brown called from the end of the driveway.

  Arykah heard him call her name, but she couldn’t answer. Her entire being had shut down. Chills shook her body. She looked up and down the street for Lance but didn’t see him. Silently, she encouraged herself. Shake it off, Arykah, shake it off. You can do this. He’s not the man that attacked you. Shake it off.

  Halfway up the driveway, Randy Brown called her name again. “Mrs. Howell?”

  Arykah squeezed her eyes shut. He was getting close to her. She wanted to scream. In the name of Jesus. Jesus, Jesus. Arykah heard the voice of her Heavenly Father. “Fret not, my daughter, for I am with you.”

  Immediately Arykah’s body loosened. When she opened her eyes, Randy Brown stood before her. She extended her right hand to him and smiled broadly. “Mr. Brown, it’s such a pleasure to meet you. I must admit that I am a huge fan.”

  He returned her smile and shook her hand. “Thank you.”

  “Welcome to North Barrington,” Arykah said.

  Randy Brown looked around at the mansions next door and across the street. “It’s really nice here.”

  “Sarah wanted me to apologize again that she couldn’t meet with you.”

  “Yes, she had an emergency with her daughter, right?”

  God, he smells good. “That’s right. She didn’t want to disappoint you a second time, so I offered to step in and show you this beautiful home. Is it true what Sarah told me? Are you shopping for a home as a birthday gift for your wife?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am.”

  “Wow. She’s a very blessed woman.”

  “Not as blessed as I am to have her. Tamara is my everything.”

  “Well then,” Arykah said, “shall we take a look inside?”

  Randy extended his right hand toward the front door. “After you.”

  Forty-five minutes later, Arykah was screaming in Lance’s ear.

  He sat at his desk at Howell Construction with his desk telephone pressed against his left ear. “Cheeks, I can’t understand you.”

  “Babe. Oh my God, Lance,” she cried out. She sat in her car with the air conditioner on full blast as she watched Randy Brown’s Range Rover drive away and turn left at the corner.

  The last time Arykah had called Lance screaming and crying was the day she was raped. Lance’s car keys lay on his desk. He gripped them and stood. He was ready to run out of the office. “Arykah, are you all right? What happened?”

  “He bought the house, Babe!” she yelled in Lance’s ear. “He bought the house!”

  Lance frowned and yelled back. “Who bought what house? Where are you?”

  Arykah took two deep breaths. “I’m in North Barrington. Sarah couldn’t show an estate because she had to take her daughter to the hospital. She didn’t want to cancel a showing that she had scheduled this morning.” Arykah was breathing heavy. “She offered the listing to me, and, of course, I had to take it. I mean, heck, it’s North Barrington—why wouldn’t I take it? But, Babe, the client was Randy Brown.”

  Lance’s eyes grew wide, and he gripped his keys tighter. “The Chicago Bulls Randy Brown? No way.”

  “Yes, it’s true. And he bought the house. Bishop, your wife sold a house for seven million. Randy Brown bought it for the full asking price.” Arykah laughed. “Bam! Whatcha gotta say about that, Husband?”

  “Did you get his autograph for me?”

  Arykah sighed. Lance blew her high. That wasn’t the response she was hoping for. “Really, Lance? I tell you that I just sold a seven million-dollar estate, and that’s the best you can do? Are you serious?”

  “My bad, Cheeks,” Lance said. “Congratulations. Did you get Randy’s autograph?” Lance was happy that Arykah was happy, but she sold million-dollar homes all the time.

  She shook her head from side to side. “As a matter of fact, I did. And I also scored two tickets for when the Bulls host the Miami Heat at the United Center in November.”
r />   “Yeeeesssssss,” Lance yelled out. “That’s my baby.”

  “I can’t wait to tell Monique that she gets to sit courtside, with me and stare at LeBron’s triceps. She and I will have a good time at the game.”

  The next thing Arykah heard coming through the telephone was, “What? Come on, Cheeks. Are you really gonna do me like that?”

  Arykah had to laugh at Lance’s disappointment. She could only imagine the sad expression on his face. She had every intention to give him the tickets, but she wanted to make him sweat for them. “Relax, Bishop. You and Adonis can have the tickets, but when I tell you that I sell a seven million-dollar estate you better jump for joy.”

  “Woo-hoo!” Lance cheered. “Way to go, Cheeks! Bravo! That’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout. You go, girl. I knew you could do it. I’m rolling out the red carpet for you, Baby, Baaabaaayyy,” he sang. Lance ran with it and shouted, “Hallelujah!”

  “Okay, stop it,” Arykah said when Lance started speaking in an unknown tongue.

  Four

  On Friday evening, Arykah’s team, all dressed in pink, assembled in her office. She wondered why Darlita, Gladys, or Chelsea hadn’t told her that Lance’s ex-girlfriend was taking up space on the pews.

  They had been to her home, ate at her dining-room table, received expensive stilettos, and enjoyed a spa day at Arykah’s expense. If Arykah was honest with herself, she’d admit that she felt betrayed. On the other hand, Darlita, Gladys, and Chelsea were lifelong members of Freedom Temple just as Lance was. They had grown up with him. Now he was their pastor. They had a personal relationship with Lance and were friends with him. Arykah understood that the ladies may have kept quiet out of loyalty to Lance, and she couldn’t be angry at that. She expected and did have that same type of loyalty from Myrtle and Monique.

  “I had a conversation with the bishop last Sunday night. He told me all about Angela Moore.”

  The ladies’, with the exception of Myrtle, eyes bulged. Chelsea, Darlita, and Gladys looked at Arykah, then at each other, then back at Arykah again.

  Arykah nodded her head. “Yep, he told me.”

  Gladys waved her hand to dismiss the very subject of Angela Moore. “Well, you ain’t got nothin’ to worry about. The bishop makes it perfectly clear to her that he’s not interested.”