Sinful Too

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Sinful Too Page 18

by Victor McGlothin


  A bundle of mixed emotions, Dior returned to her car with slow, deliberate steps. Dooney had his nerve, she thought. He wouldn’t think of limiting the number of women in his fan club for the sake of thinning it out. Despite being upset by her brother’s meddling, there was no denying his advice came from the heart. Double standards aside, it was in her best interest to sort things out after stringing Giorgio along and dangling Richard from the same rope. The decision to cut one of them loose was fairly easy to make. Bearing the bad news to the odd man out required a bit more fortitude than Dior expected.

  The clothing store was quiet when Dior sauntered in. Suza was busy restocking a display rack with imported neckties. “I thought you had the day off,” Suza said, surprised by her presence.

  “Yeah, I’m off alright. Is Giorgio in his office? I need to speak to him.”

  “Uh-huh,” she mumbled sorely. “Maybe one of those long talks of yours will snatch him out of the foul mood he’s been in all morning.”

  Dior grinned apprehensively. “Sorry, but I’m not looking to have that kind of discussion today.”

  After making her way to the rear of the men’s boutique, Dior stood quietly outside the closed door. She couldn’t help wondering what to say once it opened. Giorgio had been good to her. He paid her well for increasing his clientele twofold and paid her extra money off the books. More important, their secret rendezvous enhanced his bottom line. Dior and Giorgio benefited from the relationship, at both ends. Hopefully that would still mean something to him after hearing what she had to say. “Can I come in?” she asked when he unlocked the door.

  He furrowed his brow initially. “Sure, sit. It’s good to see you, only I didn’t expect to today.” When Giorgio closed the door, he noticed Dior’s pensive demeanor. “You don’t look happy, Dior. What caused it?”

  She drew in a measured breath then tried to relax. “I am happy, that’s the problem.” Dior squirmed in her chair uneasily before continuing. “See, it’s like this. I am so grateful for all that you’ve done for me.”

  His face exhibited a great deal of angst. “Don’t tell me you’re quitting. You’re not going to work for someone else are you?”

  “Kinda yes and kinda no. Giorgio, you know I love what I do here, but I think I have a future with someone else.” She cast her eyes downward to avoid looking into his. “You’ve been so good to me but —”

  “But you’ve made room for another man?” He leaned back in the leather office chair then ran his fingers through his thick salon-styled hair. “So, what are you saying exactly?”

  “What I’d like to say, what I’d like to do is keep on working here but without the perks, so to speak.” Dior raised her eyes to meet his, expecting to find them agreeable. She reached across the desk with her hands when they weren’t. “I’ll never stop caring about you. Our friendship means that much to me.”

  “You want to, how do they say . . . have the cake and eat it too?” he asked in a noncommittal manner that left Dior hanging by a thin thread. “This poses a crossroad of sorts. You make me a lot of money here. I like money. And I like you. Together it tastes like cake.” Eventually, Giorgio chuckled. “I like cake very much.”

  “Ohhh, thank you so much for understanding,” she cooed. “I’ll work twice as hard and bring in so many new customers.” Dior circled the desk to hug him. Giorgio kept his distance. Slightly taken aback by their new arrangement, she nodded that she understood the rejection. “You won’t regret this, Giorgio. Trust me, you won’t be sorry.”

  “That’s left to be seen,” he joked. “Now go so I can start to get over you.” Dior thanked him again and then departed, relieved. She tried to feel sorry for Giorgio but couldn’t, knowing that he’d find another midday treat before too long. Men like him always did.

  Twenty-one

  Silly of Me

  Nadeen remained alone for hours before finally working up the nerve to leave the conference room. She smiled pleasantly while church employees looked at her with apologetic expressions sprinkled here and there. Not one of them had any idea what caused the awful interaction involving the pastor and his favorite deacon. Their best guess: Richard having been chastised by Phillip for arriving late to a very important meeting, in a manner he didn’t appreciate. Nadeen wouldn’t stop to receive their heartfelt pity or questioning stares too bold to dismiss. She was torn into a million tiny pieces and not any of them seemed to fit. Usually, she’d bounce her concerns off Richard, who was always there with reassuring words and viable solutions. Since he was the root of her crisis, she decided to reach out to the other person she felt was in the same predicament. Surely Rose would understand the hurt she endured. Perhaps together they could find a way to deal with what had happened without either wife being the wiser.

  Once in her car in the church parking lot, she dialed Richard’s first cousin for a desperately needed chat about their husbands. “Hello, Rose? Hey, this is Nadeen. We need to talk and I mean right now.” She held the phone to her ear, expecting to hear a reasonable facsimile to the wealth of anger churning inside of her. Rose’s attitude missed the mark by a mile.

  “Nadeen, I just finished talking to Phillip and I’m sorry for the fight the fellas had at the church,” she said, as if there was something stifling her resentment from seeping out.

  “Is Phillip sitting there in front of you?” Nadeen asked irritably.

  “Yeah, I’m still dealing with a headache,” she said plainly, to throw Phillip off. “I’m going to the store to get some strong medicine so I can calm down.”

  “Okay, Rose, I understand. Let’s meet at the coffee shop near your house, the one over by the supermarket on Belt Line.” After Rose uttered in code she was minutes from being en route, Nadeen proceeded that way herself. During the short drive, she cried for a series of reasons, then laughed hysterically because her life as she knew it was over and there wasn’t anything she knew to do about it. Thoughts circulated unabated. What are Mom and Dad going to say? How is the congregation going to respond when they learn their beloved leader is one of those down-low brothas doing who knows what? Black churches are built on character, whether it’s perceived or otherwise. There’s no way their faithful members will follow him after this, not straight to hell. I wouldn’t blame them. How could I?

  Nadeen had other thoughts too, of the violent nature. She imagined her claws digging into Richard’s face, ripping at his flesh, so he could share her misery. Nadeen had worked herself into a knotted ball of suspicion and animosity. She was sitting in a small shop, staring blankly into a lukewarm cup of coffee, waiting for Rose to meet her. Disturbing scenarios saturated her mind. She thought about leaving Richard and the life she loved, about how that would affect the life he’d put together professionally, and the questions waged war within her troubled soul. Sustaining their relationship never crossed her mind, not once. So engrossed in her dilemma, Nadeen didn’t realize Rose had taken the seat across from her at the table she’d commandeered when arriving several minutes ago.

  “Nadeen? Girl, snap out of it,” Rose said anxiously when her girlfriend called her name for a second time.

  “What? Oh, when’d you get here, Rose?”

  “Apparently not soon enough,” she replied, wearing the same pitying expression Nadeen tried to ignore at the church. “You don’t look so good,” she added when nothing else seemed appropriate.

  Nadeen leaned over the small circular table to get a lot closer. “How am I supposed to look?” she hissed in a whispered tone. “There’s no telling what those busybodies at M.E.G.A. will be saying about that mess Richard and Phillip got into. I was there and let me tell you, it was ugly.”

  Rose shifted her weight in her seat, stalling an inevitable discussion concerning why the fight broke out in the first place. “Yeah, I heard it all from Phillip. He’s done nothing but worry hisself sick. He doesn’t blame Richard alone, seeing as how he played a part in it.” Nadeen bucked her eyes. She looked at Rose as if her head had just popped off. S
he was convinced Rose had known about the affair and wasn’t as bothered by it as she should have been.

  “A part in it?” she groaned quietly. “A part in it? If I didn’t know better you were alright with their behavior?”

  “No, I’m not alright with it, not any of it,” Rose answered, thinking she was talking about the skirmish that started when Phillip tried to check Richard about Dior.

  “My head won’t stop ringing. Every time I remember Richard kneeling over Phillip, their hate-filled eyes, and all of the anger in the room, I keep seeing them together.” She took a deep breath to keep from throwing up on the table. “To be in the same boat, I don’t understand how you’re taking this so well.”

  Rose sighed then shook her head, certain that Nadeen was speaking of Richard and his mistress because Phillip had filled her in on the particulars, including the tryst he had in Denver years ago. He was surprised when Rose informed him that she figured as much when he returned home, acting different and unable to touch her for weeks. Rose was able to pray it out of her system and forgive him, as long as he didn’t ever go willingly with his carnal demons again. Besides, she’d slipped up a time or two when he was out of town. It was like Phillip told Richard over lunch. They weren’t getting along and it didn’t appear they stood a chance to weather the toughest time in their marriage. Strangely enough, Phillip’s indiscretion helped bridge the muddied waters. They’d been a lot closer ever since. “I was in the same boat. Phillip owned up to the dirt he did. I’ve dealt with it,” she told Nadeen in a way that sounded condescending, although she didn’t mean it that way. “I, uh, I’m not implying Phillip is any better than Richard for doing the same thing. It’s just that he’s not on that road anymore. We’ve mended things between us. What Phillip is the most sorry for is lying to me about Richard. He didn’t have any business covering for Richard all this time.” She stopped talking altogether when she noticed Nadeen’s face had contorted into one colossal scowl. Suddenly, it occurred to her that she’d said too much.

  “Phillip told you he’d been involved with other men, I mean, other than Richard?” she asked carefully.

  Rose jerked her head back when Nadeen’s words slapped her across the face. “What? Other men? What are you talking about? Is that why you’re sitting there about to bust? You think our husbands are gay? That’s nonsense. Phillip’s thing was with some loose waitress. Uh-uh, you’ve got it all wrong. The fellas were fighting over . . .” When Rose’s mouth continued to move without a single word coming forth, Nadeen knew there was more to tell, something Rose was privy to or fooled into believing by Phillip.

  “You don’t have to keep secrets from me, Rose!” Nadeen growled nastily. “You didn’t watch them. You didn’t. I’ve seen men come close to killing each other before and every time it was over money or someone getting caught slipping out of someone else’s back door. Now, unless there’s a lot of borrowed money I’m unaware of, it’s about who’s sexing who.” She bit her bottom lip to bridle her tongue, assuming Rose was either sadly mistaken or dense.

  Rose simply felt awful because it was clear that Richard hadn’t admitted to what he’d been doing nor with whom. Despite how much she loved Nadeen and cared for her as a good friend, she couldn’t bring herself to share what Phillip had confided in her. Although she really wanted to explain everything she had learned, Rose agonized over it not being her place to do so. It was Richard’s. “I am sorry, Nadeen. This is messed up, I know that, but I can’t say any more about it. I can’t.”

  “You mean you won’t!” Nadeen shouted, her voice rising above a normal pitch. “I thought you’d be there for me. I guess all of that supposin’ we did at my house when I thought Richard was seeing another woman didn’t hold water. It was easy to stand with me when there was a real threat of some . . . some tramp sleeping with Richard. Imagine that tramp being Phillip, Rose? Huh, where would you be then? I wonder if you’d be sitting all cool, calm, and collected if that thing Phillip confessed was only half the truth? Where would you be then? Right here crying to me, that’s where,” she said, trembling bitterly as she grabbed her purse. Rose understood where she was coming from but didn’t know how she’d arrived at that peculiar destination. All she could do was send her in another direction.

  “Speak with your husband, Nadeen!” Rose shouted after her. “Talk to Richard!”

  Shortly after leaving the church in a disgruntled blur, Richard briefly stopped by his home to change clothes. If only ridding himself of the actions that led to the dangerous struggle was so easy. With that in mind, Richard hopped back in his car then made a very important phone call. He dialed up Tatum Engineering, requesting a special visit to right the ship that had run aground because of his bad timing and poorly conceived decision to sack out with Dior beforehand. Three minutes of slick maneuvering with a goodly dose of pandering mixed in awarded Richard a ten-minute summit with the shrewd contractor. Thirty minutes after Richard arrived at the CEO’s office, he had successfully persuaded Carlton Tatum to overlook the inopportune catastrophe he lied about having been the cause of his absence earlier in the day. Richard’s knack for presenting best case scenarios versus choosing Tatum’s top competitor for the multimillion-dollar job inspired the old man to seal the deal that the quick-talking preacher had seemingly blown off for personal reasons. Soon enough, Richard was signing a stack of documents and scouting for the nearest exit. He autographed three sets of agreements, took copies for his records, then tore out of the overly decorated office for more subdued surroundings.

  Quite satisfied with landing on his feet, Richard decided that his next course of action should include a heart-to-heart talk with Dior. She answered his phone call while out shopping. “Hey, you,” she moaned, still caught up in the afterglow from their mid-morning rendezvous. “I knew you had a lot to do today but I was kinda wondering when you’d get back to me.”

  “Well, I do need to see you but our workout this morning will have to hold you for a minute. I’m more pressed for time than I thought I’d be but we should talk before I call it a day. How soon can I see you?”

  “Didn’t I just tell you I was shopping? Who knows how long that’ll take?” Dior informed Richard she hadn’t planned on returning home for hours. However, she offered to meet for a late lunch. “Listen, sugar, I’m not too far away from the Tex-Mex spot I like. I am hearing something in Spanish and it sounds like enchiladas calling my name again. If you’re not scared, you could meet me there.”

  “Dior, come on now,” Richard answered in a backpedaling manner. He hadn’t completely dug himself out of the other hole he’d fallen into. “We’ve already gone over that. What would I say if Nadeen or one of her friends saw me out with you?”

  “Oomph, I’d have an answer for that if Nadeen and her friends were my problem. But that’s a good question. What would you say?”

  “Let’s not get into that right now,” he debated, for the sake of time. “Besides it’s probably not a good idea to deal in hypotheticals at this point. You ever hear of speaking things into being?”

  “Yeah, I get that, all of it.” When Richard balked at seeing her in public, Dior grew increasingly agitated. “What you’re trying to say is you’re only good with kicking it at my place. Ever think I might want to get out for dinner, a cozy cocktail, maybe catch a jazz set or two with my man?”

  “Sure, I’ve considered taking you out so that’s not what I’m saying at all,” he argued, with a hitch in his voice Dior hadn’t heard before. She didn’t like it.

  “Know what, Richard? You’ve already said too much. Why don’t you run on home and hide. I must have been silly to think you could hold me down. You’re not cut out for this lifestyle, Preacher Man. Next time, don’t come if you can’t stay. This is a real big man’s game and you just lost.” Dior hung up in his face then turned it off when Richard continually redialed, just like she knew he would. She wasn’t that disturbed by her role as Richard’s private joy or the arrangement they agreed on in principle, an a
greement she still intended on honoring. It was the way Richard clamored nervously about the possibility of getting busted by Nadeen that set her off.

  Richard grunted violently when Dior’s phone forwarded to voice mail each time he persisted in reaching her. “She’s dumping me, ending it,” he said to himself more than once. “Just like that, huh?” Perhaps it was better this way, he reasoned, since walking away from Dior was unimaginable. He didn’t have it in him to tell her no, even if he tried. Richard was exhausted, dejected, and eager to spend quality time in his own house for a change. It had been a tiring day, one he wouldn’t soon forget and one that wasn’t nearly over. Dreading a difficult and overdue discussion with Nadeen, Richard took the long way home.

  Nadeen couldn’t busy herself enough while pacing the floor. She wrung her hands nervously when hearing Richard’s car pull into the three-car garage. Mahalia sat in the family room with the television locked on the cartoon channel. She observed her mother’s pensive actions although pretended not to be affected by it. Roxanne clung by her older sister’s side on the sofa. She couldn’t have known what was acutely wrong with her mother but she sensed Nadeen’s angst only in the way a child could, on the periphery of their bond.

  Oblivious to her children’s close proximity, Nadeen met Richard in the utility room after he closed the garage door. She realized he had changed clothes and had somehow managed to shrug on a cloak of humility since she saw him last. His eyes were weary and encircled by dark rings. It was understandable that he must have spent hours soul-searching after what she assumed he had gone through and had yet to address with her. Despite the whipped expression he dragged into the house, Nadeen wasn’t about to let him off the hook. “It’s about time you came home,” she said, almost as uncomfortable as the man she thought she knew.

 

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