Attorney-Client Privilege

by Pamela Samuels Young

  “I think we’re good,” he whispered into the telephone. “The back door is unlocked. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

  Phillip took his time shopping for items he didn’t really need, then headed home. He found her sitting on the living room couch, legs crossed, dressed in a brightly colored kimono that barely covered her crotch. Damn she was sexy.

  “Nice to see you again,” he said, giving her a seductive grin.

  He pulled her to her feet, gripping her ass as he kissed her.

  “Shouldn’t you still be grieving?” she purred, tossing a thick mane of hair to the side.

  “I am grieving,” Phillip mumbled between kisses. “And this is exactly what I need to cure it.” He buried his nose between her breasts, then sucked on her left nipple, which prompted a low moan.

  They didn’t bother to disengage as they walked lockstep into the bedroom. While Phillip stripped down to his boxers, she sat cross-legged on the bed, propping her back against the headboard, watching him.

  He walked over to a large chest in the corner of the room and started rummaging through a stack of DVDs. Judi had never liked watching porn.

  “I’ll let you choose,” he said with a wink. “Mr. Rockhard is Cumming or Riding Bareback?”

  “Mr. Rockhard,” she laughed. “I like the sound of that.”

  He removed the disk and tossed the DVD cover on the bed.

  “Big Buy’s Board of Directors would die if they knew their TV pitchman was addicted to porn.”

  Phillip winked at her over his shoulder. “I won’t tell ’em if you don’t.”

  He placed the disk into the DVD player, then crawled into bed next to her. She took a joint from her purse, lit it and passed it to him.

  He took a long hit, then held it up to her lips. Marijuana was his drug of choice, but he did not indulge frequently. Other than beer, he wasn’t much of a drinker either. He’d seen how booze and drugs had aged some of Hollywood’s finest. That wasn’t going to happen to him.

  Phillip stared thoughtfully at the TV screen. “Maybe I should do porn.”

  His lover smiled and patted his groin. “You certainly have the equipment for it.”

  He liked the feel of her hand, but wasn’t ready to get down to business just yet. Where women were concerned, Phillip preferred to call the shots. In the beginning, Judi had played along, eager to follow his lead. He wondered how long it would be before his current lay would turn on him and get mouthy.

  The performance on screen had obviously gotten his guest all revved up. She started gently massaging his crotch through the hole in his boxers.

  He placed his hand on top of hers, stilling her movements. He was stone stiff and ready to roll, but he had a big surprise for her and it wasn’t between his legs.

  “I have a present for you,” he said at the same time his lips took another taste of her nipple.

  “I can see that,” his companion whispered, raking her manicured nails along his erection.

  He winked at her. “I think you’ll want this even more.”

  Her hand stopped moving and her playful expression turned serious.

  “You found them!?”

  Phillip nodded and grinned.

  “I thought you’d given up looking for them. Where were they?”

  “Judi definitely did a good job of hiding them. I was cleaning out her car and found them in the trunk, underneath the carpeting where the spare tire was supposed to be.”

  “Oh, my God! I can’t believe you found them. So show me!”

  Phillip leaned across the bed, opened the bottom drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a thick packet of documents.

  He dropped it into her lap. “As promised.”

  Delight crept across the woman’s face. “Oh, my God,” she repeated, pulling the documents from the package. “I’ve been dying to see these.”

  She took her time studying the first page, then flipped through the remaining pages with increasing speed. Deep worry lines lodged across her forehead.

  “So how bad is it?” Phillip asked after a few minutes.

  She looked up at him. “You didn’t read them?”

  “I took a look, but none of it made any sense to me.”

  “They look like earnings reports.”

  Phillip leaned over and nuzzled her neck. “So where’s that reward you promised me?”

  She smiled, then placed the documents inside her overnight bag on the floor.

  “You most definitely deserve a reward.” She playfully pushed him down on the bed, straddling his body.

  “Uh, this isn’t exactly the kind of reward we talked about.”

  The woman giggled. “Is this the only copy?”

  “Of course.”

  “So how much do you want?”

  “Just a little something to tide me over until I can get the cops off my back and collect on Judi’s insurance.”

  She stared intently into his eyes. “Will you actually be able to get the cops off your back?”

  Phillip’s entire body tightened. He knew what she was really asking.

  “I already told you, I had nothing to do with Judi’s death. You don’t believe me?”

  “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe you.” The doubt dancing in her eyes contradicted her words. “So how much is a little something?”

  “Fifty grand should do it.”

  She grimaced. “I’ll need some time to—”

  Phillip reached across her body and grabbed her bag from the floor. He retrieved the documents and shoved them back into the nightstand. “Maybe I should just give them to Judi’s co-workers. Or perhaps to their attorney.”

  “No need to do that.” She raked his chest hairs with her nails. “C’mon, give them back.”

  “I will. After I get my money.”

  A child-like pout clouded her face.

  Phillip noticed that her nipples had grown hard, which aroused him more than the thought of the fifty grand he knew she could and would pay.

  “We’ll work out the precise terms later,” he said, “After we’re done.”

  He pulled her back on top of him.

  “Can I really trust you?” she asked, bending to give him a kiss that was all tongue. “My career is over if anyone connects me to these documents.”

  “Sure, you can trust me.” Phillip gripped her firm butt with both hands and rammed himself deep inside her.

  About as much as I can trust you.

  CHAPTER 39

  The second I stepped into the house, something didn’t feel right. For one, I didn’t hear the television blasting play-by-play from a sports announcer.

  I stuck my head into the den anyway. Jefferson wasn’t there. I walked down the hallway toward the bedroom and stumbled to a stop in the doorway. Jefferson was sitting up in bed reading. Not a blueprint or a sports magazine, but a book.

  “What are you reading?” I asked, kicking off my pumps.

  Jefferson held up the cover for me to see. “The Black Man and the Community of Islam.”

  It took a minute for this to compute. “And where’d you get that?”

  “You know where I got it. Clayton.”

  “I didn’t realize you two had become so buddy-buddy.”

  “There’s a lotta stuff I do that you don’t know about.”

  “Oh, yeah. Like what?”

  Jefferson laughed. “Not like that. Anyway, we ain’t buddy-buddy. But the guy is so passionate about this Community of Islam stuff, I just wanted to check it out for myself.”

  “And?”

  “It’s pretty interesting.”

  I sat down on the edge of the bed. “What’s so interesting about it?”

  “The chapter I’m reading now is basically a comparison of the Bible and the Holy Qur’an.”

  “So you’re questioning the Bible now?”

  “No. I’m just investigating. This book was written in the nineteen-sixties and it’s still relevant today. Nothing much has changed as far as black folks are
concerned. In fact, we’re probably worse off.”

  “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “Nope.”

  “Did you forget that there’s a black man in the White House?”

  “Yeah, that’s cool, but black unemployment is at fifteen percent, brothers are still going to prison at a rate six times higher than whites, and in some states, fifty percent of black males don’t graduate from high school. Something’s wrong with that picture.”

  “So when did you become so well-versed in black sociology?”

  “Clayton’s been kicking me down with the facts. I never knew how heavy that brother was.”

  “Sounds like you’re thinking about trading Christianity for Islam too.”

  I waited for Jefferson to flatly reject that possibility. Instead, he continued reading.

  “Did you hear what I just said?”

  “Yeah, I heard you. I’m not even focusing on the Christian versus Islam thing right now. I just like the fact that these brothers are all about uplifting black people. You’re always complaining about me never reading. Well, now I am.”

  I didn’t have a comeback for that.

  “There’s a lot of knowledge in here,” Jefferson said, tapping the book with his index finger. “You should check it out.”

  I was too exhausted to engage in the pros and cons of Islam versus Christianity. I stood up and headed for the bathroom.

  “By the way, Clayton was telling me about a lecture at the mosque Friday night. I told him we’d come.”

  I stuck my head back into the room. “You made that commitment without checking with me first?”

  “Don’t even trip. After all the boring law firm crap you’ve dragged me to, don’t even try to get out of doing something I wanna do.” He turned a page in the book. “I would think you’d want to support your friend. We can all go out to dinner afterward.”

  I was not thrilled about my husband’s sudden infatuation with Islam. I viewed his interest as a rejection of my faith, our faith. But he was right about always supporting me.

  “They may not want to go out to dinner,” I said, walking back into the room. “Things are a little strained between them right now.”

  Jefferson placed the book face-down on the bed. “I spoke to Clayton earlier today. He never indicated that anything was up.”

  “From Clayton’s perspective, it probably isn’t. He told Special he wanted them to be celibate until they got married. Special’s having a little trouble with that.”

  Jefferson whistled long and low. “Damn. I knew the brother was serious about the Community, but that’s a sacrifice for your ass.”

  I couldn’t help laughing. “I guess you couldn’t be an unmarried Muslim man then, huh?”

  “Not if it means giving up pus—”

  I raised my hand, cutting him off. “I get it.”

  Jefferson shook his head. “I most definitely have a newfound respect for that brother.”

  CHAPTER 40

  For the second time in a matter of days, Girlie received an emergency call summoning her to Big Buy’s headquarters.

  Janice Miller, a sales associate, and Helen Sheridan, the store manager, were waiting in the general counsel’s office. Girlie didn’t know why the CEO wasn’t present, but she didn’t ask since she preferred it this way.

  Janice, a short, pear-shaped woman, looked to be in her late thirties, but you could never tell with black women.

  “As I told you on the phone,” Evelyn Kimble, the general counsel explained, “it appears that Vernetta Henderson is moving forward with her class action. Go ahead and tell Ms. Cortez everything you told me,” she said to Janice.

  The woman’s eyes flickered around the room.

  “Don’t worry,” Girlie assured her. “Everything you tell us will be kept in the strictest confidence.” Unless I need to use it.

  “Well, I got this call from Ms. Henderson a few days ago,” Janice said.

  “Were you contacted at home or at work?”

  “She called me on my cell and left a message. I called her back during my break.”

  “How did she get your number?”

  “Another employee, Robyn Gant, gave it to her. She was the one who got everyone all riled up about Olivia being suspended.”

  “Did Ms. Gant have your permission to give out your number?”

  “Uh, well, kind of. After what happened to Olivia, a lot of the women were talking about joining her lawsuit.” Janice turned to the general counsel. “Of course, I never planned to sue, mind you. I was just playing along so I could find out what they were up to so I could let you know.”

  The woman was the biggest brownnoser Girlie had come across in a while.

  “Okay,” Girlie said. “Go on.”

  Janice retrieved Vernetta’s business card from her purse and slid it across the table to Girlie. “She started asking me all kinds of questions about the store.”

  “Like what?”

  “Whether I was happy working at Big Buy. Whether I felt I had ever been passed over for a promotion. Whether I thought the company discriminated against women.”

  “And what did you tell her?”

  Janice responded with a big cheesy smile. “I told her everything was fine as far as I was concerned.”

  “How long was the conversation?”

  “That first conversation? Not even five minutes. I lied and said I had to get back to work.”

  “So how did you get her business card?” Girlie asked.

  “She invited me to a meeting at the Center for Justice on Crenshaw. She said she was filing a class action lawsuit against Big Buy and wanted to discuss the case with a few female employees.”

  Helen, the store manager, appeared ready to bounce out of her chair. “Why didn’t you come to me when you got that first call?”

  Girlie held up her hand. She didn’t want to scare this woman off before they got all the information they needed.

  “Don’t worry about that, Janice,” Girlie said. “I’m glad you went to the meeting. Tell me what happened there.”

  “Only two other employees showed up besides me. Robyn Gant and Marcia Watkins. Olivia Jackson came later. A bunch of employees were supposed to come, but they didn’t.”

  Ethically speaking, Girlie should have asked Janice if she signed a retainer agreement with Vernetta. If she had, this conversation was barred by the attorney-client privilege. But Girlie wasn’t known for letting legal obligations get in the way of her personal ethics.

  “I’d like to know everything said in that meeting,” Girlie continued.

  Janice gave them a play-by-play, then pulled several pieces of lined yellow paper from her purse.

  “I didn’t feel right about being there,” Janice said. “So I took good notes so I could report everything back to you. I also wrote down the names of the sales associates who said they were coming but didn’t show up.”

  She handed the pages to Girlie.

  “Thank you,” Girlie said. “This is going to be very helpful.”

  This would give her a good idea of which Big Buy stores Vernetta had poisoned.

  “Do you have any idea whether Ida Lopez might be involved?” Girlie asked.

  “Nope. Since she got that promotion, Ida’s been a total company girl. She barely even speaks to Olivia anymore. I didn’t think it was right what they were doing,” Janice continued. “Ms. Henderson was trying to entice us with money. She said the plaintiffs who have their name on the complaint would get more money. But I told her not as much money as the attorneys get.”

  “That’s exactly right,” Girlie said. “You make sure your co-workers understand that. Ms. Henderson might be talking to you about discrimination, but she’s only filing this lawsuit for what she can get out of it.”

  Evelyn dismissed Janice, but the woman seemed reluctant to leave.

  “Is there something else you have to tell us?” Girlie asked.

  “Uh…well,” Janice said, “I was wondering if there’r
e going to be any more promotions soon. I think I’m ready to be promoted to manager of the Cosmetics Department.”

  The store manager grunted. “Why don’t you just—”

  Girlie raised her hand again. She could definitely use a snitch like Janice to her advantage. Girlie believed in rewarding people for their loyalty. She was going to urge Evelyn to find some way to promote the woman.

  “We’re definitely going to consider that,” Girlie said with a smile. “In the meantime, you keep your ears open and let us know if you hear anything you think we might need to know.”

  CHAPTER 41

  Special was trying her darnedest to be a model Muslim woman. Dating a man as fine as Clayton and having to forego sex was hard enough. But this was a bit much.

  She glanced at the gathering of women in the small room at the mosque and wished she was someplace, anyplace else.

  “Welcome, sister.”

  A young, soft-spoken woman greeted Special, then introduced her to everyone in the room. Most of the women were friendly enough, but she already had enough friends. Attending the women’s meeting, however, was a mandatory part of her training for becoming a model Muslim wife.

  Of the twenty or so women present, there was a mix of modern and traditional Muslim dress. Several women wore business suits. Special was dressed in a knee-length skirt and white blouse. She didn’t feel like covering her head, but had a scarf in her purse just in case it was required.

  The women arranged their chairs in a semi-circle with an older woman at the top of the circle. She had creamy, maple-colored skin and a gentleness about her that immediately put Special at ease.

  “I’d like to welcome Sister Special,” Mother Jackie, the elder woman began. “She’s the intended of one of our most dynamic young men, Brother Clayton. She’s new to the Community, so we need to make her feel welcome.”

  Akila, a woman sitting directly across from Special, had attitude all over her face. Special heard from another sister that Akila had expressed an interest in meeting Clayton before finding out he was engaged.