Going Down: An Erotic Tale of Murder

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Going Down: An Erotic Tale of Murder Page 8

by Glenn, Roy


  “Well, I have a counter offer. I have been thinking about this for a long time. Even before this came up. I don’t wanna be on retainer. I’ve got five thousand dollars I saved. I was gonna let you invest it for me, but I changed my mind. I wanna take that money plus the five thousand you’re paying me for training. With that fifteen, I wanna buy into your business. For us to be partners. I have a lot of skills to offer and you know we can work together.” CJ looked at me, waiting for me to say something. “Well, say something. What do you think?”

  “You talking about quitting your job?”

  “No. Not for at least another year. There’s a lot of training available for me. I’ve been going over the brochures and there are classes I want to take that are being offered through next July. I figure I’ll be ready financially by then. By then, we should be generating enough business to carry me.”

  “What does Manny think about this?”

  “I haven’t told him about it yet.”

  “Don’t you think you should? I mean, this is a big step you’re talking about. Quitting your job and investing y’all’s savings. Not to mention working with me.”

  “Let me explain something to you. This is my money. Manny hasn’t saved a nickel since we got married. He doesn’t know I got it and has no say in what I do with it. I’m not going to let him get in the way of an excellent opportunity. And this is such a good opportunity for me, for us, to build a strong business. We have so much talent between the two of us. With the influx of capital, you can expand what you have. And with the two of us seeking new business, we can do this. And if he don’t like it, he can get the fuck on.”

  “CJ, your language,” I said, shaking my finger. I couldn’t believe I heard her say it. From the look on her face, she probably couldn’t believe it either.

  “I’m serious, Chris. I wanna be with you. I mean, I wanna be your partner.”

  “I know what you meant, CJ.” But it felt good to hear it anyway. “Give me some time to think about it.” I took another bite of my food, finished my drink and motioned for our waitress. “You want another drink?”

  “No.”

  I could tell she was disappointed that I didn’t seem to share her enthusiasm for our partnership. Actually, I was jumping for joy inside, but I couldn’t let her know that.

  “You know you’re cute when you pout. Anyway, it’s a deal.” I held out my hand. “I accept your proposal. I would be honored, CJ, to be with you,” I said and meant it, but I cleaned it up anyway. “I mean, have you as a partner.”

  “I know what you meant,” CJ said. “Thank you, Chris. I promise you won’t regret making me your partner.”

  “You don’t have to thank me, CJ. You and I are going to rule the world.”

  Chapter Nine

  Tavarus

  I arrived at the office early and logged onto the network. I read my e-mail while I sipped my coffee and nibbled on a donut. Albert James came into my office to let me know he had scheduled the interviews for the account manager’s position. News of the interview spread through the office, and throughout the day, my colleagues stopped by to wish me luck. Linda called to discuss interview strategies. By the end of the day, Alex dropped in with the latest betting line. “You’re the heavy favorite at two-to-one, Tee. Peggy comes in at five-to-four. Brent’s the long shot,” Alex said. “Betting is heavy. So if you were smart, you’d bet the farm on Brent and mess up your interview. Here’s a wild thought, what if he actually gets it?”

  “Don’t be surprised, Alex. Stranger things than that have happened around here,” I said, shaking a cautioning finger. “Besides, Alex, what’s the worst that can happen? We’ll all have to be on time? Only take an hour for lunch?”

  Linda walked in, “Stop leaving early on Friday. And complete our work on time,” adding her two cents in, as she sat down.

  “Damn, Tee, you mean do our job,” Alex said in mock disgust.

  “That’s right, Alex. No more two-hour lunches with Sandy,” Linda added.

  “Look who’s talking.” Alex laughed. “The queen of long lunches and early departures.”

  “All right, all right, so I’m just as guilty as everybody else,” Linda said. “But no matter who gets it, we all can stand to tighten up.”

  “Which reminds me, Linda: you put a bet down yet?” Alex asked.

  “Alex, I believe that would come under the heading of gambling in the work place,” Linda said with chastising finger. “Haven’t you read your memo?”

  “Good-bye, Linda. See you tomorrow, Tee,” Alex said and left my office.

  “Goodnight, Alex.”

  Linda looked at me and shook her head. “You look like shit, Boo.”

  “It’s been a long day. I was thinking about stopping off and having a drink. You wanna come with me.”

  “As much as I’d like to, I can’t. Leonard is taking me to dinner tonight. But I’ll take a rain check.”

  “Going out with your husband, huh? Should I be jealous?”

  “Not unless I should be jealous of Carmen. Besides, you know this pussy belongs to you. Leonard hasn’t known what to do with it in years.”

  I guess Linda noticed the disgusted look on my face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Me and Carmen have been arguing a lot these days.”

  “What about?”

  “She says I’m not spending enough time with her. That she’s become last on my list.”

  “That’s not my fault, is it?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “So what’s taking up all of your time? You’re not seeing somebody else, are you? Then I would be jealous. I don’t mind sharing with you Carmen, but there better not be anybody else,” Linda said with her finger in my face.

  “Don’t worry, Linda. There’s nobody else.” And there wasn’t. “I just been hanging out with Zack and Chris a lot more these days.”

  “And why is that? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “’Cause they’re not on my back all the time. They don’t complain all the time about what I’m doing, and trying to tell me how best to spend my time.”

  “Then she’s right,” Linda said and looked at her watch. “Gotta be off, babe; but we’ll talk about this tomorrow. The last thing I need is for you guys to break up and you start chasing women.” Linda looked around and kissed me lightly on the lips. “You talk to Carmen and try to work things out,” she said, grabbing her purse and heading for the door.

  Not taking Linda’s advice, I did what I planned on doing with my evening. I went to a club, sat down at the bar, and ordered a drink. I was halfway through my drink when my cell ring. I looked at the display; of course it was Carmen. I didn’t answer. Two minutes later I had a text message from her. I ordered another drink and read her long message. It was nothing new. More of the same thing we’d been arguing about, which gave me very little incentive to call her back.

  By the time I finished my drink, the band was tuning up, getting ready to play their first set. I love live music. One of my unfulfilled dreams was to play in a band again. I used to play trumpet in a little jazz band when I was in the army. I was pretty good those days. But I barely pick up my horn since I got out.

  The band was jamming when I looked up and saw a very pretty woman come in the club. I watched her cross the floor. She was beautiful; the way she seemed to glide effortlessly across the floor. Then as luck would have it, she came and sat down at the bar next to me.

  We made eye contact briefly when she sat down. I tried my best not to stare at her and tried to focus my attention on the band. She signaled for the bartender, and shortly thereafter, he brought her a drink. While she sipped her drink, I watched out the corner of my eye as she tapped her fingers on the bar and kept her head rocking to the beat. When the song ended, she clapped like it was the greatest piece of music she had ever heard. They were good, but they weren’t all that. Or maybe it was just me being a hater.

  When the band kicked off the third song of their set, the beauty ta
pped me on the shoulder. “Excuse me. How long have they been on?”

  “This is their third song,” I said.

  “Good, then I haven’t missed much. I came here just to hear them play. I’ve heard a lot about them.”

  “Me, too. A couple of my friends told me that they were really good, so I came to check them out.”

  “So, what do you think?”

  I was tempted to say that I think you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of being this close to. “They are pretty good.”

  “I think so too,” she said, and I noticed that she was almost finished with her drink. I looked at my glass; it was just about empty. I signaled for the bartender.

  “Ready for another?” he asked.

  “Yes. And one for the beautiful lady,” I said, and held up my glass like I was proposing a toast to her.

  “Well, thank you, sir. For the compliment and the drink,” she replied and held up her glass to me.

  “Tavarus,” I said and extended my hand.

  “Tyhedra Crawford,” the beauty said and accepted my hand. Her hands were warm, and I looked in her eyes and tried to think of something clever to say, other than you are so beautiful.

  She saved me the trouble. “I love live jazz,” Tyhedra said, moving her body to the rhythm. “It’s like I feel it in my soul.”

  “I know what you mean. I can feel it too. Music is a part of me.”

  “You play?”

  “I used to play a little trumpet.”

  “Used to?”

  “Used to.”

  “What does that mean? Either you play or you don’t. Which is it?”

  “Then I’m afraid to say that I don’t play anymore.”

  “And why is that?”

  “I don’t know, just got busy with work. I was just thinking that I haven’t picked up my horn in years, but would love to play in a band again.”

  “Then why don’t you?”

  “Too busy with the work thing. I just don’t have the time anymore,” I said, and thought about my upcoming interview.

  “Now that’s an excuse if I ever heard one.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. That is nothing but an excuse,” Tyhedra said and poked me lightly on the chest. “If you really want to do something, I mean really want to do something,” she said with her fists balled, “you would make time to get it done.”

  “You know, I guess you’re right.”

  “I know I’m right. You gotta follow your dreams, Tavarus.” I liked the way she said my name. Tyhedra put her hand on mine and looked deep into my eyes. “You gotta have a dream, if you’re gonna make a dream come true. Believe that.”

  “You’re right.”

  “I usually am. So tell me about this job that got you so busy.”

  “I’m an accountant.”

  “Sounds pretty boring, but I can see where it would keep you kind of busy. But I still say that’s no excuse for doing what you have a passion for. You were the one who said ‘Music is a part of me,’ right?”

  “I did say that, didn’t I.”

  “Well, did you mean it?”

  “Yeah, I meant it.”

  “Well then, you know what you have to do then, right?”

  “I need to pick up my horn and play.”

  “That’s right. Even if you have to play in the park with a hat in front of you, you gotta play,” Tyhedra said and touched my face. She held my face in her hand for a second or two. “You definitely have the lips for it,” she smiled and said before letting go and picking up her drink.

  I started to say, “That’s not all these lips are good for.” I had been mesmerized by the way her nipples pressed against her outfit. I would love to wrap my lips around those nipples and play them.

  The band broke into a fast number and a few people got up and headed for the dance floor. “Would you like to dance?”

  “Not right now, but I’ll take a rain check.” My second rain check this evening.

  As the band played on, Tyhedra and I talked, laughed, and had a good time getting to know one another. Among other things, she told me that she had just moved to Atlanta recently from LA, and worked as a business consultant. “I thought you were going to tell me that you were a musician,” I said and touched her hand. “You have the fingers of a piano player.”

  Tyhedra laughed and I enjoyed the sound of it. “That’s not the first time I’ve heard that. In fact, my musician friends have been telling me that for years. But no, I don’t play; I just love to listen.”

  The band finished their set with their somewhat upbeat rendition of Lee Morgan’s You Go To My Head. He is one of my favorite trumpet players. Hearing the trumpet player do that number, hearing Tyhedra’s words, and watching the audience’s response, made me think seriously about blowing off that interview and going for it.

  When the song ended, the audience gave the band a big round of applause and then the DJ came back on. “ I hope it’s not too soon to claim my dance?”

  I smiled, and reached for her hand and led her on to the dance floor. I spun her around and drew her slowly to my chest. “It seemed like an eternity.”

  “It’s only been a few minutes,” Tyhedra said, with her head on my chest.

  “I know, but it definitely felt a lot longer.”

  We danced slow and close in silence, until I worked up enough nerve to say what I was thinking. “I like you, Tyhedra. I’ve really enjoyed talking to you.”

  “I enjoyed talking to you, too, Tavarus. I like a man that can hold a conversation.”

  The song ended. Tyhedra started to pull away from my embrace. “Come back here. I’m not through with you yet.”

  The Dells classic Stay in My Corner came on; I drew her back to my chest. I liked the way she felt there. Tyhedra was tall: five nine, maybe five ten. I looked into her eyes. She felt good in my arms. I held her tighter.

  “I don’t mean to sound over confident, but I intend to make you mine.”

  Tyhedra smiled and laughed a little. “Is that right?”

  “Yes, it is. And I am prepared to spend all my time, all my energy, and all my resources to do it. Let me take you away from here now. We can find a nice quiet place where we can talk. Get to know each other.”

  “No, Tavarus.”

  “Tell me what you want to do and that’s what we’ll do. I just wanna talk to you, Tyhedra. I wanna know everything you want me to know,” I said with a confident half-smile. “I wanna know what makes you cry. And what I can do to make you smile.”

  “You don’t smile much,” Tyhedra said leaning back.

  I had her scent now. “Neither do you,” I replied, drawing her back to me.

  “Maybe I don’t have anything to smile about.”

  Half of my mind said, Hey, slow down. But the beast in me was in control. I laughed out loud. “That’s why you need to be with me. Come go with me.”

  “No, Tavarus.” But I could tell she wanted to go or at least she was thinking about it. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”

  “When one has little time, one can’t waste it. So have dinner with me tomorrow?”

  “No, Tavarus.” Tyhedra looked at me. “Not tomorrow. Thursday, seven o’clock at Sylvia’s. Please, be on time.”

  Tyhedra left me standing alone on the floor. I smiled and watched her walk away. After Tyhedra left the spot, I went back to the bar and had a couple more drinks before calling it a night and heading to the condo.

  On the way there, I thought about what I was going to do about the situation between me and Carmen. According to everyone who offered an opinion, the solution was simple: spend all of my free time with her, which at this point in our relationship, I wasn’t willing to do. I hadn’t been inside long enough to take off my jacket before the phone began ringing. Of course, it was Carmen.

  “Hello, Carmen.”

  “Oh, so you do know me? I was beginning to think that you had put me out of your mind,” Carmen said, with more at
titude than I was in the mood for.

  “What makes you say that?” I said, and sat down in my favorite chair. I picked up the remote and flipped on the TV.

  “Oh, well, let me see . . . It probably has something to do with the fact that you haven’t called me all day, and when I call you, I get voice mail and no return call. Yeah, I think that sums it up nicely.”

  I flipped to highlights on ESPN. I was a bit too buzzed to be having this conversation and was about to tell her that and ask if we could have this little chat some other time, when Carmen started up again.

  “Where have you been all night, Tavarus?”

  “I stopped after work to listen to that jazz band I told you about. Had a few drinks and I left.”

  “Who did you go with?”

  “I went there by myself.” Which was the truth; I did go there alone. Telling Carmen, that while I was there I met Tyhedra, was not the thing I wanted to do right at that second.

  “See, Tavarus, that is exactly what I’m talking about.”

  “What’s that, Carmen?”

  “Did you ever stop and think that I might want to go with you?”

  “No. You’ve told me on many occasions and in no uncertain terms, that you don’t like jazz. So why would I ask you to go with me to a jazz club, to listen to a jazz band?”

  “To be with you. To do something, anything with you, that’s why. But that is the one thing I can’t get you to understand: I want to be with you. Do things with you. Be a part of your life.”

  “Carmen, you are a part of my life,” I said, and massaged my throbbing temples.

  “What part? What part of your life am I a part of? You’re sex life?”

  I was tempted to say yes, but that hasn’t been true lately. Lately, this is what we do—argue. On the phone, in e-mails, in text messages, and in person, this is what we do; and to be honest, I was tired of it, so I decided to tell her. “Look, Carmen, maybe if we did something other than argue, maybe we could do something. But since all we do is argue and it looks like all we’re gonna do tonight is argue, I’m going to let you go and I’m going to sleep.”

  “So you just gonna hang up on me?”

 

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