The Best Possible Angle

by Lloyd Johnson

  “I guess.”

  “What’s your damage? You told me to change, so I changed!” She made her way back to the vanity, then reached into her jewelry box to fish out a chunky, gold necklace to wear.

  “Because you refuse to take responsibility for anything you do.” Kendrick watched as Sabathany went about her business of getting ready. If she heard what he said she seemed unaffected by it. Kendrick shook his head and sighed deeply before he went into the bathroom. He removed his clothes and got into the shower, hoping to wash away the failure of the last year and a half. Time wasted on a woman whom had been slowly peeling back the layers to who she really was. All the while he refused to see it.

  Kendrick lathered his work of art body. The years of weight training had paid off. He was on his way to becoming the object of America’s affection, a thought which brought him back to thinking about the premier. And thanks to Sabathany, he was unable to enjoy the accomplishment.

  “Yeah, she’s definitely gotta go,” he said, though he barely heard himself because of the pelting water over his words.

  When he finished his shower, Sabathany was gone. He was thankful for the few moments alone, dressing in a dapper, sleek black suit, black shirt and silver tie.

  Kendrick met Sabathany downstairs in the living room. She was looking at her phone, uninterested in how sexy the movie star thought he was. She also failed to notice his shaky hands from nervousness. He clasped them together in hopes of getting rid of the trembling, but to no avail.

  “Guess there’s no good time to tell you this,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

  “Tell me what?”

  “I can’t do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “This! You know, I used to ask myself why I felt so empty when it came to how I felt about you, why imagining a future with you never seemed authentic. Now I know. There’s no way I can be with someone that I’ve always gotta be wondering what she’s up to. I’m not going to force myself to be in love with someone like that.”

  “You’re leaving me for someone else, aren’t you?”

  “No, there is no one else. I’m just not feeling this. I’m not feeling you.” Kendrick’s revelation was freeing. The trembling in his hands began to subside.

  “This is all because I want the world to know who I am, too?”

  “Yeah, that and the fact you tried to get pregnant when I first came back to L.A. from seeing my family.”

  “And you picked the night of your premier to drop your little bombshell? How long have you been planning this?” There was a mix of surprise and hurt in her voice.

  “I don’t know, for a while now. Listen, I have no doubt you’ll find someone. I just don’t see it for us. Period.”

  The way he said, “period” sounded wobbly, especially when he dropped his gaze and began to fidget. Sabathany sensed his uncertainty the way a canine sensed fear.

  She could only produce a smile because trying to argue would have been futile. She toyed with the necklace around her neck. “We’re gonna be late.”

  Kendrick looked baffled. “Did you hear what I just said?”

  “Yeah, I heard you.”

  “And you’re still going to the premier?”

  “And miss your big night? Not a chance,” she said, breezing past him.

  In the limo, Sabathany spent most of the ride posting photos of herself on social media. Kendrick stole a few glances of her. He had to admit, she looked ravishing.

  It’s too bad things didn’t work out between us, he said inside his mind. He would have liked to have put one on her right there in back of the limo.

  Knowing her own allure, Sabathany faced Kendrick with twinkling eyes. Her entire face lit up when she erupted into girlish laughter.

  “What are you laughing at?”

  “Just thinking about what you said earlier.”

  “And that’s funny?”

  Sabathany squinted. “No, the fact that you think I’m going to just let you walk away is funny.”

  “You had your chance to talk back at the house,” he said, refusing to be drawn into another argument.

  “But you’ve already gone ahead and set the tone for the evening.”

  “What tone?”

  “You go sit next to Blondie on a talk show, and now you think you’re mister big time.”

  Kendrick rolled his eyes. He wanted to put her out by the side of the road. “I’m not doing this now.”

  “Oh, I get it. You’re too good to engage in my foolishness. Am I right?”

  “Look, you chose to come along. Fine, whatever. But don’t think you get to ruin my night.”

  “But I wouldn’t dream of ruining your night. You’re about to become America’s Prince Charming. Though, I’d be curious to know what America will think once they find out you ran down a child in the street.”

  Kendrick felt something collapse inside his stomach. “What did you say?”

  “Oh yeah, I know all about that. Actually, I overheard you talking to your sister.” Sabathany enjoyed seeing the guilt appear on Kendrick’s face. His eyes twitched. “You’re not going to waste both our time denying it, are you?”

  “It was an accident.”

  “Of course it was.”

  “I suppose this is the part where I beg you not to say anything.”

  “You catch on quick.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I want you to set the date.”

  “There’s no way in hell I’m marrying you,” he said.

  “Kenny, Darling, this doesn’t have to get ugly. It doesn’t even have to become difficult. If you play nice with me, then I’ll play nice with you.”

  The limo slowed to a halt. Paparazzi swarmed the car, cameras clicked and clacked as flash bulbs popped off. The chauffer opened the door. Both Kendrick and Sabathany peered out onto the endlessly long tongue of red carpet.

  “We’ll talk about this later,” Sabathany said, playfully tossing her side ponytail forward before stepping out. “In the meantime, why don’t you be a good boy and smile for the cameras?”

  SEVENTEEN

  “Sabathany knows, Lenox. She fucking knows!” Kendrick practically cried into the phone.

  “How did she find out?” Lenox asked with urgency in his voice. The last thing he needed was for Kendrick to have a moment of regret in making the call.

  “It doesn’t even matter at this point.”

  “It does matter.”

  “The night you dropped Paris off at the apartment, I’d had a bad dream and went into the kitchen. Paris came in later and we got to talking about everything. I couldn’t keep it in. I guess Sabathany overheard us.”

  “You guess or you know she overheard you?”

  “Oh no, she told me she did.”

  Lenox glowered on his end of the phone, realizing the family trait—neither Kendrick nor his sister were capable of keeping their mouths shut. “I told you not to say anything. You should’ve denied it, especially to that bitch!”

  “I admit it, I messed up,” Kendrick said.

  “Okay, so what do you want to do now?”

  “She wants me to marry her.”

  “Man, stop playin’.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “But you ain’t, right?”

  “If I don’t, she’ll go public.”

  They discussed the possibility of making Sabathany sign a confidentiality agreement, stating that once married to Kendrick she was prohibited from discussing anything having to do with him—past, present or future. If she breached the contract, she relinquished all claim to financial settlements in the divorce.

  “I like the sound of that. But can you get her to sign it?” Lenox asked after hearing the full idea.

  “That’s where you come in. I’ll tell her if we’re going to move forward as a married couple then we’re doing it my way. I’ll have the papers drawn up and sent to Minneapolis. It’ll be explained to her that I’m putting her on a plane. You’ll see to it
that she signs them.”

  “Why don’t I come out to L.A.?”

  “No, no. I need to get her as far from me as I can. I need time to think.”

  “What if she refuses to sign?”

  “Sabathany is greedy. She might give you a little lip at first, but I know her. She’ll sign them.”

  “Okay, let me know when you get everything done on your end.”

  “Will do. Thanks.”

  There was something soothing in Kendrick’s tone. Lenox felt as though Kendrick were speaking to him as his friend, not just an errand boy he could throw orders at. Lenox wanted desperately to settle back into the comfort of their friendship, to be close again—close enough to broach an uncomfortable subject.

  “Listen, about me and your sister…”

  “I don’t want to talk about that.”

  “Wait, hear me out. I just wanted to say that I broke it off with her. No female should come between our friendship. That includes Paris.”

  “That doesn’t fix things. I keep asking myself if you’re the same person I knew in high school who had all those Pam Grier posters all over his walls, and how you you’d go on and on about fantasizing about putting a baby in her.”

  “So what?”

  “So, you were running around trying to act like the big man.”

  “You act like your shit is perfect. Am I clowning you on your choices, and the fact that your girlfriend is blackmailing you?”

  “No, but I’m not screwing your sister either. And at least my girlfriend has…never mind.”

  Lenox’s heartbeat quickened the moment he realized that he misjudged the timing of mentioning any of it. But it was too late to take it back. He became stumped for something to say.

  “Dude, you didn’t even have enough respect for our friendship to be truthful with it. You hid the fact you were in a relationship with my sister. This isn’t something you just slipped into. You’ve been messing around for years!”

  “Yeah, but I told you I broke it off.”

  “And?”

  “I thought with everything you’ve got going on maybe we could move past this.”

  “Tell you what…you get that bitch to sign the papers and I’ll think about it.”

  “I will. You don’t have to worry about it. I’ll take care of it,” he promised, hoping it would make the difference.

  It was the sincerest declaration Kendrick never heard. After Lenox finished speaking he waited for a response, but got the sound of a dial tone.

  Later, Kendrick found himself back on Brenda’s sofa. After two glasses of wine, he had the liquid courage to open up about everything. When he finished saying all he could say, Brenda rubbed his shoulder.

  “Thanks for telling me. You did the right thing.”

  Kendrick wasn’t so sure, but felt lighter having confided in Brenda about everything—from hitting little Kayla Jones, up through the moment Sabathany threatened him with what she knew.

  “And you think marrying her is the answer?”

  Kendrick took a sip of his wine, which gave Brenda the excuse to sip hers. He shrugged. “I guess I’m trapped.”

  “Yes, you are,” Brenda said with a wink. “But you don’t have to be.”

  EIGHTEEN

  Sabathany’s arms overflowed with bridal and wedding magazines; she didn’t think she would make it into the house. The magazines spilled and trailed onto the floor as the landline rang. Sabathany let the remaining magazines fall where they did to reach across the kitchen peninsula. The number flashing on the phone had a 612 area code. Though she knew the call originated from Minneapolis she didn’t recognize the number, and let it go to the answering machine.

  “Now I see why you didn’t promise not to say anything. You couldn’t wait to go run your mouth to Lenox, could you? Hope you’re happy, because he left me. Thanks a lot! It’s really messed up how you two think you’re the only ones who get to have the happily ever after. Like no one else gets to find love besides you! And the thing is, you know how difficult it is for someone like me to find someone who’s not afraid of commitment. But that’s all right. I’ve got something for both of you. You didn’t think about that, did you? You didn’t think by you putting your nose where it doesn’t belong that you started a whole lot of mess. Well, what I’ve got planned for the two of you, you’ll have no one to blame but yourselves. Good looking out, brother of mine. I hope you’re satisfied.”

  Sabathany smirked. “She’s got heart. I’ll give her that much.”

  She spent the next couple of hours snacking on sesame sticks while flipping through the magazines. She placed colored tabs on the pages of dresses and wedding ideas she fancied. At one point Sabathany rose to stretch her legs. She needed a second pair of eyes, but Tammy was at work. All of Hollywood, and Tammy was the best she could come up with to be her maid of honor? She was pitiful at best, cursed by a lack of curves and gangling limbs, pockmarked skin, and nappy roots. It would be a waste of good money to make Tammy over because she would never commit to the upkeep. However, that worked out perfectly because whenever Sabathany wanted to feel better about herself, all she needed to do was stand next to Tammy.

  “That settles it. After the wedding, I’m kicking Tammy to the curb. She ain’t ready to roll in the big leagues.” Sabathany returned to the computer and typed in “celebrity weddings.” As far as her choice of potential dress maker, she decided on Vera Wang or Michael Costello. The wedding was to be the height of opulence, serving as inspiration for weddings to come. She envisioned Oprah and Beyoncé standing in line to wish her and Kendrick luck. Sabathany wanted to pack the church with five hundred people even though she didn’t know five hundred, but she would settle for two hundred. Dinner would consist of three choices: Argentinean beef filet, wild striped Bass or mustard grilled chicken, all served with grilled asparagus and roasted rosemary potatoes. And for dessert, a seven tiered, red velvet cake so moist that it dissolved on the tongue.

  For the honeymoon, the newlyweds would climb into a limo and be whisked away to the airport to board a private jet for Bali. And on this honeymoon, she planned to become pregnant with the first of six children—three boys and three girls.

  When Kendrick came home from Brenda’s, Sabathany was imagining the fabulous gifts they would receive. He had no idea he was about to burst her dream bubble.

  “Good, you’re home,” he said, standing in the doorway of her office.

  “Hey Sweetie! I was just thinking about the wedding. Have you come up with a date yet?

  Kendrick noticed all of the magazines strewn about. “Yeah, about that. There’s something I need you to do first.” He left the room, hoping to have piqued Sabathany’s curiosity.

  She followed him to the kitchen. A bag of fast food rested near the house phone, which reminded her that Paris called.

  “What do you need me to do?” she asked.

  “I’m having a confidentiality agreement drawn up. I’ll need you to sign it before we get married.”

  “What? No prenup?” she asked, flippantly.

  “Oh, that’s coming. Don’t you worry.”

  “I don’t understand the purpose of this,” she said, jolted from the assumption her threat would have gone unchallenged.

  Kendrick was strident. “Come on now. You’re too smart to play this dumb. The papers should be done in a couple weeks, at such time you’ll board a plane to Minneapolis. Lenox will meet you at a determined location and you’re going to sign the papers. And I don’t expect to get any calls that you won’t sign them.”

  “You seem to forget who’s holding all the power.”

  “Oh, is that what this is?” Kendrick said, tickled by her overconfidence. “You’ll sign the papers or there won’t be any wedding. Period.” Then he walked away.

  “So, it’s like that?” she muttered. She looked over at the answering machine. Kendrick seemed elated to have found his testicular fortitude. Why spoil his rediscovered manhood with an angry sounding message from Paris?
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br />   “I think I’ll keep this one to myself,” she said, and hit DELETE. She would sign his silly papers if it meant having the wedding of her dreams. She needed this wedding to fulfill the two things she longed for—security and not being alone. Kendrick may have been angry, but he would grow to love her. For his sake he had better, because if for some reason Kendrick decided to renege, Sabathany would remind him that she had a little something on him that might serve as an incentive to keep his promise.

  NINETEEN

  Paris checked her cell phone, hoping to hear from her brother. He had not returned any of her calls. It broke her heart that he had become one of those judgmental-type people he used to shake his head at, who never walked a moment in her shoes.

  Paris moved to the corner of the loveseat, hoping to disappear all the while knowing it was impossible. She craved a hug from the one person who gave the best hugs—Lenox. His hugs were all encompassing; they blocked out fear. They were a rare and tender reminder that he had once opened his heart to her.

  Paris focused her attention toward the blank space just above the flat screen TV. Memories hovered, dense like storm clouds.

  Paris turned off the generic noise of the TV and forced herself up from the couch. She knew that once the confrontation began there would be no turning back. Still, she hoped to find even the smallest trace of love behind his eyes when they met face to face. Lenox needed to see her heartbreak up close if he was going to realize the folly of denying his feelings. He needed reminding that he had loved her first. Hopefully that would be enough. But in case that did not work, there was always good ole fashioned revenge to fall back on.

  The neighborhood was different from the way Paris remembered it. Craftsman-style homes sat on reasonably maintained lots, framed by jack pine trees.

  Paris was surprised she even remembered the general area. She was drunk the night Lenox met up with her at Delilah’s Cabaret. They were on their way to her place when he decided to stop at his house to make up with his wife while Paris waited in the car, struggling not to pass out.