Darius laughed. “Gigi, you’re reading it all wrong. I confess: She and I have become somewhat friends. Maybe that’s all you’re picking up on.”
“Sir, what can I get you?” the woman behind the counter asked again.
“Just give me a cup of regular black coffee and one of those pastries,” Darius said, pointing his head toward the glass case. “The strawberry one looks good.”
“Oh, look at you, Mr. Big Spender,” Gigi said as the woman behind the counter went to fill his order. Gigi picked up her cup of coffee and went and sat down at a nearby table.
The woman behind the counter handed Darius a tray with his coffee and the strawberry pastry on it and collected his money, which took the last of the dollar bills that remained in his wallet. All he had left now was the money that made noise.
Darius strolled back to the table. “I got you a pastry.” He set the white plate with the pastry down in front of her. “It’s strawberry.” He sat down with his cup of coffee, leaned over, and slid the empty brown tray onto the vacant table next to them.
“How do you happen to know that I like strawberry pastries?” Paris asked.
“I didn’t. It was just a lucky guess. Oops! I forgot. Our pastor has admonished us not to use the word ‘luck’ or ‘lucky.’ So we’ll say instead that I took a blessed guess.”
Paris smiled. “I enjoyed Pastor Landris that one time I visited. I’ll have to visit the church again maybe after things settle down. But strawberry is my favorite. So I’m impressed.” Paris pulled off a piece of the pastry and placed it in her mouth. “This is so good.” She nodded. “So . . . what were you and that woman at the counter talking about?” Paris looked where Gigi now sat.
“Who? Me and her?” Darius casually glanced back over his shoulder. “Well, I could lie and say we were merely chatting about the weather.”
“But you’re not going to lie to me. Not now; not ever.” Paris pulled another piece from her pastry and placed it in her mouth.
Darius broke into a slow grin. He took a sip of coffee and sat the cup down as he nodded. “Not now, not ever. Her name is Gigi Thornton. I met her about two months ago at some event she and I both attended. She was turning around and almost knocked me down. We started talking . . . and that’s about it. She’s cool.”
“Gigi, huh? What’s the Gigi a nickname for?”
“You mean her real name? I think it’s Gigi.”
“Most of the time Gigi is not the name a person is given at birth. I’m sure she has another name.”
“I don’t know about that. All she told me was that her name was Gigi Thornton. I assumed that was her real name. But I can go over and ask her if you want me to.” Darius made a gesture like he was about to get up.
Paris grabbed him by the wrist. “Don’t you dare. I don’t care enough to know for you to do that.” Paris let his wrist go. “So . . . do you ever call her?”
Darius twisted his mouth and sat back comfortably in his chair. “I’ve called her a few times. That’s about it.” He smiled and leaned in. “Nothing really serious. She was just asking me what I was doing here with you.”
“I take that to mean then that she knows you’re married with three children?”
“Yes, she knows that I’m married. I don’t lie about my family or my marital status. I even wear my wedding band when I’m out.” He held up the back of his left hand and wiggled his ring finger. “See.”
“I assume then that she knows I’m not your wife since she asked you what you were doing here with me. She knows that I’m not your wife, right?”
“Yes, she knows you’re not my wife. I showed her a picture of my family, which included Tiffany.”
“And knowing all of this, she still wants to talk to you?” Paris shook her head as she primped her mouth. “You’d better be careful,” she said in a singsong voice. “I’m sure you’re aware that there are lots of crazies out there.”
Darius took another sip of his black coffee. “I’m not interested in her that way.”
Paris grinned. “Sure you’re not. But you can’t speak for her. It’s funny: We’ve been reacquainted for a little over two months now and you’ve not bothered to show me a picture of your family.”
Darius chuckled as he pulled out his wallet. “That’s because I don’t have a problem introducing you to my family in person. But here you go.” He flipped to a picture and held out his wallet to Paris. “That’s my family.”
Paris took the wallet and looked at the photo. “Very nice.” She handed his wallet back. “You have a beautiful family. Your wife looks almost the same as she did when you brought her to that party a decade ago when we were in college.”
He put his wallet back up. “That picture is a year old. And, yes, my wife looks pretty much the same. I’m also telling you that I’m not interested in Gigi other than as a friend. She’s in between jobs. I’ve been doing my part to encourage her. She was a little down about where she was in her life. I encouraged her to find what she wants to do and to go for it.” He picked up his cup of coffee and took another sip.
Paris smiled as she nodded. “So you’re Mr. Encourager. I have to give it to you: You sure do know how to pick them.” She cast her eyes in Gigi’s direction.
Darius set his cup down on the table and leaned in. “You’d think you would have figured out that, when it comes to the women I give my time to, I’m really picky. I’m not drawn to just any old body.”
Paris sat back against her chair. “Is that right?” She pulled another piece from the pastry and slowly placed it on her tongue. “Then I see that makes two of us.”
“Sounds like you and I make a great team.”
“A team, huh? You’re still pushing that line?”
“Yes. You want to get that little girl from Gabrielle Mercedes. And I just happen to have eyes and ears on the ground that can help you, at least, have a heads-up.”
Paris leaned in closer to Darius. “So does this mean you’re going to help me any way that you can?”
“Yes.” He smiled. “But I need you to help me get a job with your father. If I’m going to keep my wife happy and feeding me with information about what’s going on with Gabrielle to help you, I need a job. And I don’t want a crappy position, either. I’d prefer a job working on his campaign. That’s probably a good place for me to start and prove myself. It would also give me some flexibility.”
Paris slowly shook her head. “I don’t know what I can do to help you there. I guess you weren’t listening when I told you that my father is upset with me. After he learned I was serious about going after custody of Jasmine, he literally went over to the other side. He wants me to stop my crusade of rescuing Jasmine from Gabrielle. Under any other circumstance, I probably would have some influence with him. But right now, crossing him like I am, I’m on the outs with both him and Andrew.”
“I take it then that your husband is not for you pursuing this?”
“Nope. He was fine when I mentioned adopting a child. But when he discovered the child I had my sights on was the one Gabrielle had already, he almost blew a gasket. But I can handle Andrew. He’ll come around and see things my way.”
“Well, then I guess I’ll have to take care of your father. I’ll convince him to give me a job. I’ll make him see that it’s in his best interest to hire me. But you need to know that Gabrielle is gearing up to fight you with everything she’s got. I don’t know what you said to her that Wednesday night when you saw her at Bible study—”
“I told her I was going to petition the courts to get Jasmine.”
Darius nodded. “Well, she was planning to return to her job as director of the dance ministry, but she’s postponing that now. My wife just told me a little while ago that she’s gearing up to fight whoever is trying to get in her way of her keeping that little girl. I don’t think Gabrielle is going to be an easy battle for you to overcome.”
“Oh, I’m sure of that. People think she’s this nice person. But the person I knew was
one who saw what she wanted and went after it no matter who was in her way. She may have given her life to the Lord, but I assure you she’s not the good girl everybody probably believes that she is. Well, I’m not going to sit back and let her ruin that little girl’s life. If no one else is willing to step up and fight for Jasmine, then I guess it will have to be left on me. And if my husband and father won’t go along with what I’m doing and I have to do it alone, then so be it.”
Darius placed his hand on Paris’s free hand, completely covering it. “You’re not going to be alone. I’m here. If you need me, day or night, you call or you text me. And if I’m not available, I promise that I’ll get back with you as soon as I can.”
Paris looked down at Darius’s hand on hers. “I’ll see what I can do to get Daddy to give you a job or at least help you to get one. Daddy has connections. That will at least make things a little easier for you. I appreciate you, Dare. I really do. You’re the only one who seems to be on my side on this. I told my husband when we were discussing this the other day that I’ve only just begun to fight. He has it in his head that he can talk me out of this ‘notion,’ as he calls it, or that him refusing to be a part of this will deter me. But he’s wrong. I’m in this for the long haul.”
“Well, Pare, if I know—”
Paris pulled her hand away from his. “Pare?” She shook her head. “Uh-uh. Nope. Don’t call me that.”
“What? You don’t like Pare? We could be Dare and Pare.” He laughed. “I think it’s kind of cute myself.”
“No, I don’t like it. It’s not cute. Yuck! So don’t ever call me that again, do you hear me? It’s Paris. Paris. No variation of it. Simply Paris.”
“Okay. If you feel that strongly about it. But it’s all right for you to call me Dare?”
She smiled, put the last piece of strawberry pastry in her mouth, and said, “Yeah. Because dare I say, you like it when I call you that.”
He nodded as he smiled. “Yeah. I dare say that I do.”
Chapter 3
My heart was hot within me; while I was musing the fire burned: then spake I with my tongue.
—Psalm 39:3
The following day, Darius called Lawrence Simmons and made an appointment to see him. He knew Lawrence wasn’t interested in meeting with him, not after their last time two months ago. But he also knew Lawrence was a smart man who knew it was best to keep his friends close and possible enemies even closer.
Not that Darius considered himself an enemy of the representative. In fact, his greatest desire was to work on the man’s reelection campaign. And when Lawrence was reelected, he’d like a job working in his administration or something. That wasn’t too much to ask. And in exchange, Lawrence would have his undying loyalty.
Darius sat down in the chair across from Representative Simmons.
“What do you want?” Lawrence said, not bothering to hide his impatience or displeasure with Darius.
Darius held his six-foot-six-inch frame upright in his chair. Although he was only thirty-three years old, he wasn’t going to allow this fifty-year-old man to intimidate him. “What I told you I wanted the last time we talked. I’d like a job. I need a job.”
“Well, you should be down at the unemployment office and not here taking up my valuable time.”
“I told you: I want to work for you. I feel like I have some valuable assets that will serve you well. I’m loyal, a self-starter, self-motivated, confident, and most of all, a hard worker. Did I mention I was loyal?”
“Well, if you’re such a great asset, then why are you unemployed right now?”
“The company I worked for moved its operations overseas. But if we want to get to the real reason I—and many others—are unemployed, that blame can be traced back to politicians such as yourself. If I’m not mistaken, it’s the politicians who pass these laws that have gotten us in the mess America is in. Laws that seem to be stacked more toward the rich and against the little people and even small businesses. Laws that amazingly reward companies with tax breaks when they send our jobs overseas.”
“Sounds to me like you’re just the kind of person I’m trying to reach in my campaign,” Lawrence said. “People who are tired of big government and the government getting in their way.”
“No. I’m likely one of the people who would never vote for you. And especially not with some of the stuff you’ve been spouting off lately.”
Lawrence chuckled. “And yet, here you are up in my face begging me for a job to work on my reelection campaign. I don’t know who taught you the skills of landing a job. But if you happened to have paid for it, you should request a refund. In fact, I’d consider suing them for malpractice.”
“I know how to interview for a job. But right now, there aren’t many jobs available. I’d like to work for you because you need to know how to talk to folks like me and get our votes while you attempt this little black-Republican-trying-to-get-elected-in-Alabama experiment you’ve decided to embark upon.” Darius shook his head. “I don’t know who’s advising you these days, but I’d say there should be a job opening right there. I couldn’t believe it when I heard it. You, pretty much the face of Mr. Liberal, now running as a Republican in the state of Alabama. Alabama? Seriously?”
“For your information, there are more black Republicans in Alabama than you know. And this election cycle is dictating that I do this. In two years, it may very well swing back. But for now, if you want to be in the game, then this is where the action is being played.”
“So if you get reelected, are you planning to flip back to being a Democrat when the tide turns? Because you know 2012 is coming, and I have a feeling it will behoove a lot of folks to look at where they are then. I’m just saying.”
“Well, in politics, you have to be flexible and keep your finger to the wind.”
Darius pulled a small notepad out of his dark blue suit coat pocket and began to write.
“What are you doing?” Lawrence asked.
“Taking notes. If I’m going to work for you, I need to know what you want.”
Lawrence visibly frowned before starting to laugh. “I’m not hiring you.”
Darius closed his notepad. “Yes . . . you are. And do you want to know why you are?”
Lawrence smirked and leaned forward, resting on his forearms. “Oh, please. Don’t keep me in suspense. Why am I going to hire you? Give me one reason.”
“For one, because I know too much about you and your personal business, that’s one.”
“You know nothing you can prove.”
“I know enough to cause you trouble. And I know enough to keep trouble at bay. Guess who I had coffee with last night. Go on . . . guess. You’ll never guess.”
“Mr. Connors—”
“Oh, please, Lawrence. Let’s not be so formal. We’re about to be working together. Call me Darius. Or if you want to use the little nickname your daughter is using for me these days, you can call me Dare. Isn’t that clever? Darius . . . Dare.”
“Dare?” Lawrence sprang to his feet. “Listen. You need to leave my daughter alone.”
“No, sir. I think you need to be asking me to get as close to your daughter as I can.” Darius also stood. “You see, Lawrence. It looks like at this point I may be the one person able to help control your daughter. You need me on your payroll, Lawrence, if nothing more than to keep your daughter from totally wrecking your campaign at this juncture. And she’s on track to do it. It’s now April thirtieth. November is the election. You and I both know that in politics, that can be a lifetime. Paris is determined to go after Gabrielle Mercedes and take that little girl that she’s convinced is your daughter, albeit illegitimate one. Paris has no intentions of waiting until after your election is over, which by then, would be too late.”
Lawrence leaned on his desk. “And what exactly do you think you can do when it comes to my daughter? No one can control that child of mine. Not me, not her mother, not even her husband, Andrew.”
Darius leaned
on the desk, putting his face up close to him. “Paris trusts me. Or at least, she’s learning to trust me. She believes—unlike you and her husband—that I’m on her side.”
Lawrence stood straight, folding his arms across his chest. “Well, how do you think she’ll feel when I tell her that you were here in my office trying to sell her out?”
“She already knows that if I’m here, I’m likely trying to get a job with you.”
“Is that right?” Lawrence grinned. “So if I were to call her right now and tell her you’re here, she would be okay with that?”
Darius pulled out his cell phone and pressed one number. “Hi there, Paris. It’s me . . . Dare. Listen, I’m here with your father. Would you please say hello to him?” Darius handed his phone to Lawrence. “It’s your daughter. She wants to say hello.”
Lawrence took the phone. “Hi, sweetheart.” He nodded. “Yes, I hear you. But I can’t say that I have anything for Mr. Connors in the way of a position. Yes, Paris. Listen, dear, we’ll talk more on this later. Here’s Mr. Connors back.” Lawrence handed the phone back to Darius.
Darius smiled. “Thanks, friend,” he said to Paris, then winked at Lawrence. “Yes, I’ll let you know if I get something. Send up a prayer for me. Bye now.” He pressed the END button and put his phone away. “Told you.”
“I’d like you to leave my daughter alone. In fact, I’d like for you to leave me alone. I don’t have a job for you, and my daughter doesn’t need anyone egging her on this ridiculous quest she’s embarking upon to try and take that child away from that woman. It’s none of Paris’s business nor is it any of yours.” Lawrence’s voice steadily escalated as he spoke.
“But I happen to agree with your daughter. I don’t think that child should be with Gabrielle Mercedes, regardless of whether you’re really her father or not.”
“So do you know Ms. Mercedes or something?”
“Let’s just say I don’t know her in the way I would have liked, not in the biblical way of ‘knew,’ if you catch my drift. But I’ve come as close to it as one legally can. I’ve seen her live dance performances before, and I’m not talking about at our church, either. Although I confess that the first time I saw her dancing in that club, she had a lot of us calling out the Lord’s name, if you know what I mean.” He chuckled.
The Other Side of Dare Page 3
