“I need to sign up for a class.”
“Well, you’re in the right place, honey,” she said, while she adjusted her glasses.
“What’s your name?”
“James. James King.”
“James King. You wouldn’t happen to be of relation to Victoria King, would you?”
“Yes. That’s my mother.”
“Well, she’s sitting in the back room with a counselor now.”
She picked up the phone and called somebody.
“James King is checking in.” She paused. “You’re welcome,” she said, and hung up the phone.
I rolled my eyes. “You can’t be serious?” I said, under my breath.
“Oh, I’m serious. Serious as a hooker with a meth addiction.”
I squinted my eyes at her and shook my head.
“Sign this paper and go sit down. The counselor will call you in soon.”
I signed on the dotted line and gently shoved the clipboard at her.
“James King. You may be something out there, but in here you’re just an addict, sweetheart.”
“No. I don’t do drugs.”
“Yup. First stage is denial. I’ve seen it a million times before.”
“No. Really. I don’t do drugs.”
She grabbed my hand. “It’s okay. This is a safe place here.”
“I don’t fucking do drugs,” I yelled so loud, that everyone stopped in their tracks. The whole place was quiet. I looked around embarrassed.
“James?” I heard a male say from behind me.
“I’m Ronald, your counselor. Follow me, please.”
I stared at the lady behind the counter and then over to Ronald the Counselor. He was stick skinny, with messy brown hair. His pants were a couple sizes too big for his body, and his shirt had a few stains on it from lunch. This guy is supposed to help me. Just fantastic.
“Lead the way.” I tossed up my hand.
“How are you today, James?” Ronald said.
“Can we just not do this? The small chat. It’s weird,” I said.
“Okay. This is my office. Go ahead and step in.”
I looked at the doorknob and frowned. I knew once I opened this door I was going to have to deal with the wicked witch of Cherry Hills. What the hell was she doing here? I placed my hand on the knob and turned it as slow as I could. I pushed opened the door and there she was. She stood up and smiled so brightly you would of thought a grenade blew open her mouth. She walked over to me and grabbed me in a tight hug.
“There you are, James. I have been waiting for you. I was worried.”
“Seriously?”
She leaned in and placed her mouth close to my ear. “Go along with it or I’ll fire that pretty little tamale you’ve been staying with,” she whispered.
I pulled back and stared at her. She was on a whole new level now. Let’s see where this goes.
“James, your mother was just telling me what a great man you are. I hear you got wrapped up with the wrong people and here we are.”
“Excuse me for a minute, Ronald.” I paused and turned to my mother. “I’m sorry, Mom. Can you remind me why you are here again?”
“Support, dear. I’m here for you. We talked about this.”
“Is this a joke?” I snorted. “You’re really doing this?”
She pulled out her cell phone and started dialing a number.
“What are you doing?” I asked, trying to see who she was dialing.
“I need to make a call to one of my employees. I think I’m over staffed at the moment.”
She was dialing Emily. I just knew it. I snatched the phone out of her hands. I gestured for my mother to sit down, as I took a seat. Ronald kept a close eye on both of us. By the look in his eyes, I could see he wasn’t sure what to think of us just yet.
“No. I remember now. It must have slipped my mind. I apologize. Thank you for coming. I appreciate it.” I cocked my neck to the side and squinted my eyes at her.
“So, let’s talk about your case.” Ronald tapped on his desk with a pen.
“My case?” I turned my entire body in chair toward him.
“Yes. I want to know why you think you’re in here.”
“Go ahead, honey.” My mother encouraged me. I tried not to laugh at her attempt to sound sincere. Who in the hell was this woman sitting next to me, acting like she cared? There was definitely an agenda up her sleeve, and before we parted ways today I would figure out what she was up to.
“I’m here, because I had poor judgment in character when it came to choosing friends.”
“James, this is a safe place. You don’t need to hold back.”
Not that bullshit again. I swear if I heard safe place one more time I was decking the person. I shook my head and rolled my neck around. Ronald smiled, as he waited for a response.
“Are we done here? I thought I was just checking in to schedule classes for later.”
“Yes. Yes we are. Just know that I am here for you, James.” Ronald stood up and reached out his hand. I stared over at my mother and then back to him.
“How much is she paying you?” I blurted out. Ronald pulled his hand back.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I don’t understand.”
“James, I think we should go. I have a nice meal cooked up for you at home. We wouldn’t want that to go to waste,” my mother cut in, as quickly as she could. This charade just keeps getting better. What’s next? A birthday party with clowns. That train had passed. What the hell was she up to?
She grabbed my arm and escorted me out while waving at Ronald. She was literally pulling me toward the exit door. Once we made our way outside I planted my feet on the concrete. I wasn’t moving another inch. It was confession time. Enough with the mommy dearest act.
“What are you doing?” I shouted and threw my hands up. She looked around and shook her head. She leaned into me, but didn’t say anything. At least not at first.
“You are not going to devalue our name any more than you already have. As of about an hour ago I was emailed links to a handful of websites with articles claiming I threw you out on your release day, and now you are broke and living it up with some poor housemaid of mine. I saw the pictures, James. Do you know how bad this made me look?”
“Oh, I see. This is about you. Image is everything.”
“Why are you doing this to me?”
I grabbed my chest and laughed. “You?” I chuckled again. “This isn’t about you.”
“Everything you do is about me. You are my son. Your actions reflect the King name.” Her tone was sharp enough to cut through bones. Not glass. Bones.
“Your son? I’m just your son when it benefits you.”
She exhaled and shook her head. She puckered her lips and looked at me with disdain.
“I have a proposition, James. One in which I think you should take.”
I stood there quietly with my arms crossed. Is the devil offering me a deal? This won’t be good.
“You come back home. You come work for me and we put this behind us.”
“You can’t be serious? Why would I do that?”
“Because if you don’t I’ll fire, Emily.”
I shook my head at her. “Bullshit. No deal.”
“Alright. I’ll just call and tell her you have something important to say.”
I thought about Emily and her mother. I remembered her face. I remembered that kiss.
I placed my hands on the top of my hat, and paced a few steps. I hated this.
“Fine. I come back home, but I am not working for you.”
“Not yet at least. That will do for now I suppose.”
“What do you really get out of all this?” I asked. I was just disgusted with her.
“What do I get out of this?” She chuckled. “Sweetheart, the question is what do we get out of this?”
I could barely stand to look at her. I looked at the trees, then the flowers, then the man walking by. Nothing seemed to help this feeling, this
negative energy, this weight of doom I would call my mother.
“I get to go about my day with no accusations attached the King name. You get to live a nice, comfortable life at the King estate, and Emily gets to keep her job. I should fire her for calling in sick today, but that’s another story. You see, perception is everything, even if the reality of it is not.”
I wanted to tell her about Emily. I wanted to let her know what a rough time she was going through, but to my mother she wouldn’t care. It didn’t affect her so why bother. It might even put Emily in a position where my mother would figure out a way to wrap her around her little finger.
“When does it stop? This make believe world you live in where you think you’re queen.”
“James, you are just like your father. All full of hope and love.” She cleared her throat. “You don’t win a race without trampling over your opponents, and the queen doesn’t get a castle without killing off a few commoners.”
That was the shittiest thing I had ever heard. I was done with her. I’d had enough. I turned to walk away, but stopped and swung around.
“I’d be careful if I were you. Every queen is knocked off her pedestal at some point, and it’s usually by the people close to her.”
“Is that a threat, James?”
“No. I’d say it’s more of a plan.”
“Are we playing a game now? Is this what you want?” She looked down, and picked at her nails.
“No, but you seem to have made the first move coming here. Now it’s time you wait for mine.”
“Prison has changed you, but it hasn’t changed you that much.” She smiled.
“You’d be surprised.” I nodded once at her and walked away.
Chapter 4. Heartless Bitch
It was now four hours into my shift, and I couldn’t continue to wipe down this bar anymore. It was damn near spotless. I needed something else to do to keep me busy. At least that way it appeared like I was working. Standing around made me feel useless, but what was I supposed to do. It had been extremely slow since the normal crowd was probably at home recovering from a hangover. It was one hell of a night in here last night. It was St. Patrick’s Day. The biggest money maker for bars. I don’t know what it was about this holiday that made non drinking people drawn to bar hopping and culture claiming. The same shit happened every single year. I could place money on the events of the entire night. You had a group of wild people come in. Each and every one of them swore up and down that they were part Irish. The place was filled with green shamrock decorations wall to wall, and green beer was overflowing. It’s the one thing that everyone had to drink at least once. Don’t get me started on the obnoxious light up pins, you know the ones that say kiss me, I’m Irish. I had been asked to kiss I don’t know how many girls last night and most of them were hot, but like an idiot, part of me was holding out for some green eyed girl for some dumb ass reason.
I hadn’t seen or heard from Emily in three days, not since the night that she left. I frowned. No. Stop. We are not thinking about her tonight, I reminded myself. It’s stupid. Stop being a fool. Stay on track, which is the track to getting your own shit together. She has her problems. You have yours. These two tracks do not need to collide. I tossed her to the back of my mind, and looked around the bar remembering all the chaos that happened here last night. I called it St. Patty’s Day melt down. People are usually pretty shit faced about that time. It happened as the night drew near to morning. I recalled a few customers getting up on the bar in an attempt to do the Irish jig. I also remembered the terrible Irish accent attempts all night. The more the customers drank the more they tried and the worse they sounded. Plenty of nipples were flashed and one patron pulled his dick out at the bar. I spent a good night just nodding and smiling. This was bar life and I loved it. I just hated St. Patrick’s Day. I could deal with any other day of the year, except this one. I just didn’t understand the hype. I knew I shouldn’t complain because the bar was busy and the tips were crazy, but it just never quite made sense to me. Just like Emily who made no damn sense to me. FUCK! There she was again. Taking up my thoughts. Sigh.
“How’s your week been, James?” Mike asked.
“Don’t ask.” I threw the towel over my shoulder. “It hasn’t been a walk in the park.”
“Be patient. You just have to give yourself time to adjust to life outside of prison.”
“I worry at this rate, what it even feels like to be adjusted. Not sure it exist.”
“Give it time, brother,” Mike said, as he picked up a broom and started to make his way around the bar. “Everything always works out.”
“Yeah. I maintain hope.” I gave a crooked smile, and looked around the bar for something to do. I checked the ice bin, and struggled with the decision to fill it. I guess it could use a little more ice. I walked to the back, and grabbed a small bag from the fridge. I made my way back up to the bar with a little more energy and purpose. I ripped open the bag and tossed the cold ice chips in. The doors to the bar opened and in walked Zach. I stopped mid-movement and just stared. I wasn’t sure what to feel first. This man was the reason for me having been locked up. He didn’t come to visit me there, not once. He didn’t accept my calls. He didn’t explain or accept responsibility. Look at this fool. He just up and decides to walk in here tonight. Bullshit. He took long strides toward me. He ran his fingers through his blonde bangs that laid to one side, and adjusted his watch as he approached me.
“You have some nerve.” I backed away from the bar and stared him down. I didn’t need to ask him how he found me. There were nosey paparazzi everywhere even if you couldn’t see them they saw you.
“Just hear me out,” he pleaded.
“Hear you out? What could you say that would possibly make anything that happened better?”
Zach looked around the bar, and then back to me. He cracked his knuckles and bit his lip. He looked down at the floor and then back up to me. It felt like time had took a damn nap on my watch.
“Dude?” I threw my hands up and arched my eyebrow. “Did you come here for something or not?”
“I just wanted to say—”
“Is there a problem here, James?” Mike cut in from the corner of the bar. His voice was tense and filled with concern. No one was more worried than me right now. I didn’t want to go back to prison for busting Zach’s face in. Boy, did I want to though.
I didn’t respond and neither did Zach. We just stared at each other. The door to the bar opened and in walked a few customers.
“Why don’t you boys take whatever this is, to my office?” Mike pointed to the back of the bar.
I nodded at Mike and made a head gesture to Zach to follow me, as I made my way to the bar office. It felt like I was walking fast, but Zach caught up to me. He was now walking by my side and I wanted to ram his head into the wall. I wanted to take a few liquor bottles and bash them against his skull. Those were the things that ran through my mind as I took in the sight of him. I chose to refrain from killing him, which took a hell of a lot of will power. My freedom was at stake here and I wasn’t about to go back to a tiny cell like a caged dog. We reached the office, and I slammed the door behind us causing him to flinch.
“What do you want?” I asked loudly.
He stood there obviously unequipped with the right words. “I don’t know what to say. I messed up. I panicked and tossed the bag to you.”
“You ran like a coward, and left me standing there with a backpack full of drugs in front of a drug dealer’s house.”
“I was scared.”
“So you let me take the fall? You know me. Drugs are not my thing. If I had known I would have never gone with you.” I threw my hands up at him. “What did you tell me? You said we were dropping off a backpack for a kid that you tutor in the hood. Jesus Christ, Zach.”
“I’m sorry, James—”
“Sorry, doesn’t cut it. I served time. I have this on my record forever. My whole life has changed, and here I look at you with your
Cartier watch and your Louis Vuitton sunglasses. You just walked in here like you were walking on water. You look untouched an unscarred. That must feel amazing. Does any of this bother you, everything that’s happened to me? Do you fully get it?”
“It makes me sick. I feel really bad.”
“I am so sorry my jail time was weighing on your conscience. It must have been horrible. So horrible you didn’t admit to any of it. I took the fall for your ass and you didn’t say a word. I was a loyal friend. Not once did I drop your name.”
“How many times do I have to say I’m sorry?”
“I don’t know, Zach. How many times did you sleep with Nikki?” I barked at him.
His breath hitched and his face turned red. I watched him swallow the lump in his throat. He placed his hands up. I was freaking out and I didn’t know how much longer I could contain myself.
“I can explain that. She came to me. She told me she was pregnant with your baby. You were locked up and she didn’t know what to do. She was afraid, and she needed somebody. I didn’t plan on being with her. It just happened.”
“Shut up.” I paused and let it sink in. “Pregnant?”
Zach looked at me in a manner that showed he was surprised I didn’t know. He closed his eyes and placed his hand up to his mouth briefly.
“Fuck, James. I assumed you knew.”
I stood there fuming as heat radiated up around my neck. My heartbeat increased and my breathing quickened. I gritted my teeth and before I knew it my fist had already struck his face twice.
“How could you do this to me? You were my friend,” I shouted. I felt someone pulling me back. Mike had already shoved me into a corner by the time I found out it was him holding on to me.
“Do you want to go back to prison? Shit, James.” Mike shoved me a few more times until I snapped out of it. He turned his attention to Zach. “You, get the hell out of my bar. If you say anything to the cops about this, I’ll let them know that I witnessed you in here harassing one of my workers.”
Zach stood up and wiped the blood from his mouth and chin. He ran one hand through his hair. He stuck his hand inside his suit jacket, pulled out a white envelope and attempted to hand it to me.
The Silver Lining Page 6
