In Firm Pursuit

by Pamela Samuels Young

  “Hello to you, too, Special,” Jefferson said, returning to the mail. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

  “I left early so I could clean up before Vernetta got home,” she said, still rattled. “When did your wife turn into such a neat freak?” Special walked into the living room and picked up the Starbucks cup but ignored the Doritos bag. “Are you here to surprise her?”

  “Nah. She’s on her way home right now, so you better get to work. We’re heading back in the morning.”

  “Who’s we?”

  “We is me, your long lost lover boy!” Stan sloshed out of the kitchen chomping on an apple. “How you doing, sweetness?”

  “You know what?” Special scurried from the living room, over to the front door. “I just remembered an errand I need to run.” She grabbed the doorknob and pulled it open, then shrieked again.

  A bearded Hispanic man in his early twenties was standing in the doorway. Special ducked behind Jefferson for cover.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you, ma’am,” the man said. “I have a package for Jones-Parks Electrical.”

  “That’s for me,” Jefferson said. He set the mail back down on the sofa table and reached for the clipboard the messenger held out to him. After he scribbled his name, the man handed him a large white envelope and left.

  “I wonder what this is?” Jefferson tore open the envelope. “None of my mail for the business should be coming here.” Special peered over his shoulder, hoping to get a look at what was inside.

  Jefferson pulled a thick document out of the envelope. When his eyes focused on the words in the upper left-hand corner of the page, trepidation seized his body. Law Office of Benjamin Wallace, Attorney for LaKeesha Douglas.

  The reality of what he was looking at took only seconds to register. “Shit!”

  “What is it?” Stan asked, talking with his mouth full.

  “It looks like LaKeesha’s suing y’all,” Special announced.

  Jefferson stuffed the papers back into the envelope, walked into the living room and slumped down on the couch. Stan had all but convinced him that LaKeesha’s threat about suing him for sexual harassment was just the temporary wrath of a scorned woman. And Jefferson had gladly put the whole LaKeesha saga behind him. He told Vernetta that they had decided to lay LaKeesha off because the project was winding down. That news had seemed to please her, and to his relief, she had not asked him another question about the girl.

  Stan took another bite of his apple. “Aw, man,” he said, “you gotta—”

  Jefferson raised his hand. “Just be quiet, Stan. Don’t say another word.” He turned to Special. “Stan and I need to talk privately about this. Weren’t you just about to leave?”

  “I was,” she said, “but now I think I should hang around. At least until Vernetta gets here.”

  Special joined Jefferson on the couch and held out her hand. “Let me see them papers. What’s that little heffa suing you for?” Special made a move for the envelope, but Jefferson pulled it out of her reach.

  “Special, this is a private matter that I need to discuss with my business partner. Why don’t you just run along?”

  “C’mon, brother-in-law, you know Vernetta’s going to tell me everything anyway. If it’s something really bad, you might as well tell me first so I can help you break the news to your wife.”

  Jefferson’s brain was a muddle of confusion. He was about to be the target of a nasty sexual harassment lawsuit. There was no way he could keep it from Vernetta. If he tried to hide it and she found out later, that would only make matters worse. Special’s reaction would be a preview of Vernetta’s. He reluctantly handed Special the envelope, then slumped farther down on the couch, closed his eyes and started praying.

  Jefferson did not need to read the document to know what it said. It probably recounted every dirty little detail of what had happened in his room at the Residence Inn. Considering how mad LaKeesha had been when he fired her, it would not surprise him if she had made up a bunch of extra stuff.

  When he finished praying, Jefferson looked over at Special, studying her face. She didn’t seem all that disgusted, but Jefferson knew he wouldn’t be that lucky when Vernetta read that document. He hung his head and started to pray again.

  “This ain’t that big a deal,” Special said, stuffing the papers back inside the envelope.

  Jefferson stared hard at Special, trying to make sure she wasn’t playing with him. When he saw that she was not, he almost wanted to hug her. If Vernetta reacted this calmly, he was going to start attending church every Sunday for the rest of his life. Hell, he might even become a deacon or join the men’s choir.

  “But there’s some good news and some bad news,” Special said, handing the envelope back to Jefferson.

  His cheeks expanded with air. “I’ll take the good news first.”

  “It’s just a workers’ comp case,” Special said. “A stress claim.”

  Jefferson wanted to jump for joy. When he had first opened the envelope, he had been too stunned to read any of the words past LaKeesha’s name at the top of the page.

  “Half the people I work with have filed stress claims,” Special went on. “Including me. You got workers’ comp insurance, don’t you?” Special asked.

  Jefferson nodded in disbelief at his good fortune. LaKeesha had apparently thought better of suing him for sexual harassment after he reminded her that his wife was a lawyer. His workers’ comp insurance would take care of her stress claim without him even having to think twice about it. They’d pay her some chump change and it would be a done deal.

  Stan whistled. “Man, you are one lucky dog.”

  “Why is he so lucky?” Special asked suspiciously.

  Jefferson frowned at Stan and abruptly stood up.

  “Uh—we were late paying our workers’ comp insurance,” Jefferson said, trying to think fast. “If she had filed this case a week ago, we wouldn’t have been covered.”

  “So what’s the bad news?” Stan asked.

  Special stared up at Jefferson. “Well,” she said, “LaKeesha’s stress claim is based on sexual harassment. What’s that all about, brother-in-law?”

  Jefferson slid the document out of the envelope and flipped to the second page. His eyes burned as he scanned the words. Hostile and intimidating working environment…forced to engage in sexual conduct…severe and pervasive sexual harassment.

  Jefferson tried to speak, but couldn’t. His lips were sealed shut from both rage and fear.

  CHAPTER 59

  As Jefferson read LaKeesha’s allegations, Special examined his shocked face with quiet amusement. She very badly wanted to tell the man that she possessed a smoking gun that would completely torpedo the little home wrecker’s case. But she couldn’t do that without getting herself in some serious hot water. Jefferson would just have to sweat it out until she could figure out the best way to use her secret nanny cam tape.

  “This is a bunch of lies!” Jefferson shouted. Thick veins of fury protruded from the left side of his forehead. He stuffed the document back into the envelope and hurled it onto the couch. “I didn’t force that girl to do shit!”

  Whoooaaa! Special pounced off the couch and faced Jefferson. Didn’t force her? What was that about? “I thought you said nothing happened between you and LaKeesha?” Now Special was the one experiencing distress.

  Jefferson massaged the back of his neck. “That’s what I said.”

  “Nooo,” Special said, her heart beginning to palpitate, “you said you didn’t force her to do anything. That’s totally different.” Special glanced over at Stan. He looked even more troubled than his business partner.

  Jefferson walked over to the window, then absently marched back to where he’d been standing. “Well, that’s what I meant,” he said. “People shouldn’t be able to get away with making up stuff like this.” Jefferson fell onto the couch and Special sat down next to him.

  Special didn’t know what to think. But Jefferson’s denial didn’t make
sense. “A man who’d been falsely accused would’ve said, it never happened,” she said. “Not, I didn’t force her.”

  Jefferson threw up his hands. “Special, this is all a bunch of bull. I swear it is. This thing has got me so mad, I don’t know what I’m saying. But I’m telling you, everything written on that page is a bunch of lies. I’ll swear to that on the Bible.”

  “Okay, okay,” Special said, feeling a little better. Her mind went back to the videotape. When LaKeesha had threatened to sue for sexual harassment, Jefferson told her she didn’t have a case and LaKeesha had clearly said she would make one up. Maybe Jefferson really was so upset that he didn’t know what he was saying.

  She gave him a sisterly pat on the back. “Don’t worry about it, brother-in-law. It’ll all work out.”

  And she planned to make absolutely sure that it did. She just had to figure out a way to divulge her secret evidence without letting Jefferson or Vernetta find out that she had installed a nanny cam in Jefferson’s office. Neither one of them would be happy about that.

  Jefferson closed his eyes. “I hope Vernetta acts as calmly as you do about all of this.”

  “I can guarantee you she won’t,” Special said.

  Jefferson slumped down even farther on the couch and leaned his head over the back. He stared up at the ceiling for a while, then turned to Special.

  “I need a really big favor,” he said.

  Special’s eyes narrowed. “I’m listening.”

  “I don’t want you to mention this to Vernetta.” He rubbed the back of his neck for the umpteenth time. “It’ll just stress her out. She’s under a lot of pressure because of that Micronics case and being up for partner. She doesn’t need to be worrying about me being sued, too.”

  Special gave him an incredulous glare. “Do you know how mad your wife would be if she found out that I knew LaKeesha was suing you for sexual harassment and didn’t tell her?” Special said.

  “Just let me handle it,” Jefferson said. “I’m going to tell her that LaKeesha filed a workers’ comp case. I just don’t plan to mention the sexual harassment part.”

  “Dang,” Special said. “You sure look awfully worried. You sure nothing went down with that girl?”

  “I told you,” Jefferson said. “It’s all a bunch of lies.”

  “So,” Special said, “you want me to lie to my homegirl, huh?”

  “I’m not asking you to lie to her. I’m just asking you not to bring it up.”

  Special paused. She was in complete agreement with Jefferson. Vernetta really was wigging out behind all the crap over the Randle case and the possibility of not making partner. She didn’t need anything else to add to her stress level. But Special wanted to let Jefferson stew a bit.

  “So what do I get outta this?” she asked.

  Jefferson exhaled. “What do you want out of it, Special?”

  She tilted her head sideways and pressed her index finger to her cheek. “Let me see…. I gotta think about it.”

  They heard the sound of a car approaching and Stan waddled over to the window and peered through the curtains. “Well, y’all ain’t got a lot of time to negotiate,” he said. “Vernetta’s pulling up right now.”

  Jefferson moved closer to Special. “So are you with me on this?”

  Special smiled and continued to mull over his request.

  At the sound of Vernetta sticking her key into the doorknob, Jefferson snatched up the envelope, slid it underneath the couch and walked toward the front door.

  He grabbed his wife in a bear hug as soon as she stepped inside, kissing her as if he might not have another chance to. “I really missed you, babe,” he said.

  “Wow,” Vernetta said when he finally released her. “I guess I should send you out of town more often.”

  “How’re you doing, Stan?” Vernetta walked over and gave him a hug, then leaned forward and peered into the kitchen. “Uh, Special, don’t you have some work to do?”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Special said, rising from the couch.

  But all four of them just stood there as silence saturated the room.

  “Did I walk in on some confidential conversation or something?” Vernetta asked.

  Jefferson laughed. “Nah, girl. We were just sitting here waitin’ for you to get home. Come here.” He pulled her close again, smothering her with another hug.

  Special made a move toward the kitchen, then stopped and looked back at Jefferson. He stared at her over Vernetta’s shoulder, his eyes pleading. She noticed a big half circle of perspiration under each of his armpits. Brotherman was definitely sweating bullets, Special thought.

  She was enjoying the feeling of power she had over Jefferson, even though she knew the man was being falsely accused. But her job was to look out for Vernetta. Her buddy would flip out if she ever laid eyes on that that workers’ comp lawsuit and all the lies LaKeesha was telling.

  Special gave Jefferson a thumbs-up and hoped he could read her lips.

  I got your back, brother-in-law.

  CHAPTER 60

  “I’m serious this time.” I sternly wagged my finger inches from Special’s nose. “I’m not putting up with your craziness tonight. You better behave.”

  “Why’re you always jumping down my throat?” Special swatted my finger out of her face. We were standing on the doorstep of Bradley’s Manhattan Beach condo and I was tired and irritable. I had stayed up late with Jefferson and spent the day in a long, frustrating deposition.

  I was about to ring the buzzer when the door swung open and Bradley pulled me into his arms. His greeting was far more intimate than it should have been. He was wearing a Sean John velour jogging suit. The jacket was completely unzipped, revealing a tanned, muscular chest.

  “You remember my friend Special,” I said, awkwardly pulling away from him.

  “Nice to see you again.” Bradley shook Special’s hand and led us inside. “Have a seat in the den. I gotta run back into the kitchen and finish preparing some snacks for us to munch on.”

  “Dang!” Special said as our feet sank into Bradley’s plush white carpet. “Does everybody you know have a big-ass crib?”

  The enormous, stark white room had an artistic feel to it, as if it belonged to an architect or an artist. Sparse in furniture, but classy in style. The ten-foot couch, oval coffee table and twin club chairs were all snow-white, as were the walls. Huge floor plants and multicolored sculptures and paintings added a colorful but elegant contrast.

  “I know this brother must’ve hired an interior decorator to hook this place up.” Special stepped up to the fireplace. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if this fireplace worked by remote control.”

  “Special, please stop acting like you haven’t been nowhere before.” My frustration meter was already inching toward the red zone.

  Special peered through the French doors, out onto a balcony overlooking a sea of lights. “This brother’s got an incredible view!” She walked out onto the balcony, closing the doors behind her.

  “I asked my brother, Trent, to drop by,” Bradley bellowed from the kitchen. “He used to work for DynaTech Software. I figured he might be able to help.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Special came back inside a few minutes later and walked right past me down a narrow hallway, peering into each room along the way.

  “This crib is slamming!” she whispered, glancing back at me, still seated in the den. “But I wanna see his bedroom. I know it’s pimped out.”

  “The bedroom’s upstairs so forget it,” I said. “Just get back over here and sit down.”

  “I’m coming,” she said, continuing to take her sweet time. “I know you’re married and everything, but you might wanna consider keeping this brother on the side ’cause I would love to be chilling up in here on a regular basis.”

  I closed my eyes, exasperated. “Special, can you please sit down before Bradley comes back?”

  “Stop being so uptight.” Special finally sashayed back into
the room. “I’m sure he don’t mind me looking around. You know that boy still wants to get with you, don’t you? That’s why he left that jogging suit unzipped, showing off all five of his chest hairs.”

  Bradley rejoined us carrying a silver tray with four wineglasses, deviled eggs, wheat crackers, pepper cheese and a bottle of merlot.

  “How’s life at O’Reilly & Finney these days?” Bradley asked. He placed the tray on the coffee table, then poured wine into three of the four glasses.

  “Just fine,” I said. I felt no obligation to provide any specifics about all the professional drama I had experienced lately. I picked up a piece of cheese. “How’s everything going with you?”

  “I’m hanging in there.” Bradley crouched down on the floor and rested his back against an ottoman. “We just got this huge case for a major defense contractor. I’m the lead associate on the case and—”

  The doorbell rang just in time. Bradley enjoyed nothing more than pontificating about his boring patent cases.

  “That’s got to be Trent.” Bradley hopped up and headed for the door.

  “Who’s Trent?” Special took a sip of wine at the same time she reached for a deviled egg.

  “Bradley’s brother,” I said.

  Special’s eyes lit up. “Really? Does he have a big-ass crib like this, too?”

  Before I could respond, Trent and Bradley walked into the room.

  Trent was tall and muscular and had the kind of versatile, clean-cut looks intended for television commercials and billboard advertisements. He could have advertised anything from a Mercedes-Benz to multi-grain cereal. Mr. All-American Mandingo.

  Before Bradley could introduce him, Special rose from the couch and took charge. “I’m Special,” she said, extending her hand.

  “Excuse me?” Trent replied, taking Special’s hand in both of his.

  “I’m sorry,” Special giggled girlishly. “My name is Special, and it’s spelled just like it sounds.”

  “Well, nice to meet you,” he said. “I have to say, you’re the first Special I’ve ever met.”