The Satyr

by Tiana Laveen

  “How are you such an expert on this, huh?” He laughed.

  “I had a dating life before your father. I have a friend now, too.”

  He stared at her.

  “You tell me I kept Yasmine a secret, and here you have a whole, grown ass, fucking boyfriend I know nothin’ about… Who is he? I’mma gonna kill him.”

  She burst out laughing and shook her finger at him.

  “And you wonder why I never told ya?!” She cackled. “Nix, you’re too domineering and possessive! I’m the parent here, remember?!”

  She laughed so hard now she was turning red. He tried to smile, but he couldn’t manage it. For some reason, being kept in the dark about such a thing rubbed him the wrong way. “Look at your face! You’re really pissed. God help Yasmine! Geesh! Anyway, to set the record straight, he’s not my boyfriend. Just a guy I go to the cinema with every now and again… get a chicken dinner… some coffee.” Ma’s cheeks plumped and turned rosy. “You don’t know him. I like him, though. Nice fella.”

  “Is he employed?”

  “Retired.”

  “Ever married?”

  “Yes. Twice. Has two adult sons.”

  “Twice? Well, isn’t that a real peach! He’s a two-time loser!”

  She rolled her eyes and grabbed her cup of tea from the coffee table.

  “You have no room to be judgmental. You’ve had more women than a beach has sand.”

  “Does he ask ya for money?”

  “Nix.”

  “Well? Does he?”

  “No. Are we finished with your questionnaire now, Mr. Perry Mason? I’m not on a witness stand.”

  “I’m just getting warmed up. I want his full name, number, and address. Gotta check up on this guy, make sure he’s not some sorta scammer tryna pull the wool over my mother’s eyes.”

  “Nixon Angelo Rossellini, you’re demented.” She gave him a stern look, gripping her cup with both hands. When she said his full name like that, she meant business. “You and your father have so much in common, it’s horrible to watch, quite honestly. Thankfully, you have enough going for you in a positive direction to kinda balance it all out, but let me tell ya, I didn’t take any shit from your father, and I damn sure am not gonna tolerate it from my own kid. I swear I want to get you tested for a battery of mental illnesses. You’re nuts!”

  “I meant what I said, Ma. I will make him regret the day he was born if he’s got ulterior motives. If he’s legit, then he’s got nothin’ to worry about.” He tasted his coffee. Ma always made the best coffee.

  “You’re paranoid, you know that? You never trust anyone. Is that why you didn’t tell me about Yasmine?”

  “I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

  “You kept her a secret from me. Were you afraid that something bad would happen, then you’d have egg on your face?”

  “I’m sure that was part of it.” He set his cup on the table.

  “Well? What was the other part?”

  He mulled her question for a moment.

  “The rollercoaster you mentioned earlier… that’s it. I don’t want to be on the rollercoaster, Ma, and yet, I already bought my ticket. I’m determined to ride, and I refuse to get outta line. I love her so damn much!”

  Ma got up from her seat and sat down next to him on the couch, then wrapped her warm arms around him. He pressed his forehead against her chest as she caressed his hair.

  This was the only woman he’d ever let get close to him. Women were just too powerful. Dangerous creatures indeed. He’d seen too many of his friends become broken-hearted. Powerful men who had women knock them to their knees. He’d seen how his mother had pulled back from his father, taking her love away, leaving a shell of a man behind. Dad barely recovered and settled for second prize – and boy, was it a doozy.

  “Nix, there’s nothing wrong with admitting you’re afraid,” she said in a low, soothing voice. “Love can be scary. You let this woman into your life. You fell in love. I can see why you like Yasmine so much. She’s engaging, intelligent, well-spoken. She’s absolutely beautiful, too. Just go with it. It’s a hell of a ride, honey.”

  “I’m up for it. You know that. It’s just that I’m drowning in this thing, Ma… I can’t get any air. I want to take this to the next level, but there’s a chance she could say no.”

  “Yeah, because that’s not something you can control.”

  “And you know I hate that. I hate not knowing what comes next. I can’t always predict her next move, Ma. That’s the magic of her.”

  “Accept her for who she is. Never try to change her, Nixon. Marry who she is RIGHT NOW, and as you two grow, make sure you grow together.” He grasped the fabric of her robe in a tight fist. He knew that was a warning from a page out of her own life – a marriage chock full mishaps and wrong directions. Visions of him as a little boy snuggled up against her one rainy afternoon rushed to his head. He was sick, and Ma let him come into her bedroom and watch cartoons.

  She smelled like broth and hard candy. I must’ve fallen asleep and I remember lookin’ over at her, and she was painting her toenails. She had a soap opera on. Turning to me, she kissed my forehead and said, ‘I’m going to make you some homemade chicken soup. The broth is already done. I made it while you were sleeping.’ She pulled the sheets all around my body, kissed my cheek, and left to finish the soup. Then she fed it to me. I was weak, coughing… I hated being ill, but somehow, Ma made me feel better. She made me feel strong.

  “Ma, I think I figured it out. I feel weak right now. Sick. I could never let Yasmine see me like this, how I’m letting you see me right now.”

  “Nix, how do you think I’m seeing you right now?” She pulled away, forcing him to sit up. His stomach was now in such tight knots, he felt nauseous. It was as if his entire world was on display.

  “You see me as frightened.”

  “No, honey. I see ya as brave.” She wrapped her arms around him once again and squeezed.

  “I’m not concerned about being alone, Ma. It’s about dreading that one day, I won’t be good enough, that I won’t make her happy anymore. I never knew I could love this hard until she came along… She took me on a ride. It’s been exhilarating. Even the moments when we’re just lying there, not speaking, holding each other, she… she gives me peace. She’s the quiet in my storm. It took a lot of soul searching on my part to get here. I’m telling myself things about me, Ma. Things I never would’ve been able to admit before. She’s seen my ugliness… and she still loves me.”

  “That means it’s real. She accepts you as you are. Like I told you, it’s a ride.”

  “Let the dips, dives, twirls and whirls begin…”

  “He has the same ol’ straggly strands of hair, all three of them, lopped over like a soft dick on top of his speckled egg head,” Yasmine murmured as she adjusted her light gray suit jacket.

  Her temper was soaring, and she held onto her professionalism by a thin, tattered thread. She glanced at her reflection in one of the big conference room windows. Today, she’d chosen this pant suit, paired with a thin black turtleneck and her favorite black and rhinestone Jimmy Choo heels. Gathering her belongings, she stuffed them in her suitcase and was ready to leave when Terrell approached her. Now, the other attorneys were gone. The meeting they’d just had was disastrous and she’d once again been made to look like the bad guy. She glared at him. His blue gaze dripped with weakness. She hated weakness for it stunk like fermented garbage on a hot August day.

  “I’m sorry you’re so upset, Yasmine,” he stated mildly as he threw up his hands. “I hope this doesn’t mean that you’re considering leaving the firm. I’m certain other cases will come your way that will be even—”

  “Terrell, let me cut you off right there. After everything that I’ve presented you with today, you are still letting this man run over you. That’s telling. I wanted to believe you were ignorant of all the facts and tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. Well, you know what? You might b
e his stool pigeon, but I can make you a promise right here, right now. That motherfucker is not going to run over me. I am taking this to the State Bar.”

  “The State Bar?!” the guy yelled with a mirthless laugh. His eyes were practically bulging out of his head. “They’re not going to entertain this bull, Yasmine! This is a small situation, totally handled in-house.”

  “But it wasn’t handled in-house, now was it? In fact, the house is corrupt.” Her eyes narrowed on him.

  “Yasmine, come on… please. You and I have too much history for us to argue like this!”

  “I tried to speak to you as one adult to another, attorney to attorney, friend to friend, but you would hear none of it. You’re wrong, you know you’re wrong, and that’s what’s most upsetting about this. I’m done being sad about it. Now, I’m just pissed. What has happened here is a violation.”

  “Yasmine, this has nothing to do with any encroachments or violations you may believe have occurred.”

  “You can’t tell the person who’s been shitted on that they shouldn’t consider the feces on their face to be a violation. You don’t have that right, Terrell.”

  The man rolled his eyes, clearly trying to hold on to whatever pride he had left.

  “It is not uncommon, nor against the law for me or any other partner, to take a case from one attorney and transfer it to another.”

  “So, you admit it? You knew the whole, us working together,” she hooked her fingers in the quotes sign, “was crap.” The man’s shoulders slumped. “You won’t admit that Camden isn’t even qualified to research a case for us, let alone work on one of this magnitude. He doesn’t deserve to be at a prestigious firm like this. He’s a smear on an unblemished canvas. He’s not art. He’s a piss stain.”

  “You don’t have the full picture, Yasmine, and you’re treading on dangerous territory by bringing up the Chicago State Bar.”

  “Dangerous territory? Is that supposed to be a threat, sir?” They locked eyes, neither uttering a word for a while. Her heart swelled and pulsed in rapid fire within her. “Let me tell you something, Terrell. I’m not afraid of you or any of you guys in here! I have started from the bottom and climbed my way to the top, so if you think a bunch of entitled White men, with their first world problems, are going to have me biting my nails and playing the mammy, Hattie McDaniel, from Gone with the Wind, you are sadly mistaken. I’m not tapdancing for you! Steinman and Fairman have my blood, sweat, and tears soaked in the very walls and carpet fibers of this place! All the late nights and early mornings, no breaks, barely using the bathroom and trying to stuff a salad in my mouth within three minutes… losing sleep and peace, giving of myself tirelessly! I have shown nothing but loyalty to you and this firm and this is how you repay me?!”

  “You’ve been committed, Yasmine, yes, but we’ve all worked hard and—”

  “Don’t you tell me basically that, ‘All lawyer lives matter,’ when we aren’t talking about you! You aren’t the one that has been stolen from! You aren’t the one that’s been thrown under the bus by someone you thought you could trust! I have come in this place, sick as a dog, ready to work. I rarely took vacations. I have always, when accepting awards, spread the knowledge that I could never take all the credit for an operation that has so many moving parts. We were supposed to be a well-oiled machine, a team! I have pride in my work. Our clients knew they could count on me to give them the best representation possible. I sat in my office speaking to some of the most despicable human beings on this planet, trying desperately to find a kernel of humanity in them, something worthy of salvaging! I have also sat across from men and women who were practically saints, but had found themselves at the wrong place and time, facing long sentences for crimes they never committed, and I swore to them and their families that with every fiber of my being, I would do all I could to ensure justice was served!” She pointed a finger at him, angry beyond belief. “And I meant that! I have only lost two cases my entire time here, and one of those cases was due to evidence that came about at the last minute, and that was out of my control. Regardless, I took it hard!”

  The man lowered his head and shook it as if she were someone to pity. She wasn’t certain if he was just listening, or feeling sorry for himself, too.

  “Yasmine, let’s just, uh, take some deep breaths and discuss this in the morning.”

  “We’re beyond that now, Terrell. I am done discussing this with you anymore. I tried three times, and the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. I work for the underdog because my people have been the underdog in this country for centuries! That’s why I became an attorney, Terrell. Because so many of my Black brothers and sisters were getting locked up for crimes they either didn’t commit, or if they did, their sentences were far worse than those of the White people committing the same exact crimes!

  “I saw my sister, whom I took care of, be treated like shit by a White nurse who saw her as nothing more than another Black charity case! My parents couldn’t afford to get her into some fancy physical rehabilitation facility. She was ignored by nonchalant doctors, while they treated little White girls and boys, who had similar ailments, with dignity and respect! I’m sick of this shit! I have been like a sister to you, you’ve confided private matters to me, and I never told a soul! And now, here you stand…” She sneered. “You’ve thrown me overboard for that low life piece of shit.” She pointed towards the door. “Your White privilege helps you see past my Black disadvantage. Snow colored glasses. You guys really do stick together, huh? No doubt about it. Dignity and integrity be damned!”

  She took a deep breath, and it was the hardest thing not to ball up her fist and punch him in the face.

  “When it comes to my job though, I don’t care what race someone is, Terrell. The God in me won’t let me! I won’t sell my soul for such a cheap price, and racism looks free of charge for a reason. It invites you in with promises of hatred covered in gold, only to never deliver the true self-esteem that’s required to see up and above such a despicable frame of mind. Everything that glitters ain’t gold, and nothing in this world is truly free. I fight for everyone who can’t fight for themselves. I’ve defended racists, too, and you know it. They can be White, Asian, Indian, you name it. Underdogs know no race – and I fight for them! I don’t care about the skin color of our clients. I care about them getting a fair chance in court, to help clear the name of the innocent and get the best deal for the guilty. There’s someone guilty at this firm, Terrell… and I’m not talkin’ about Camden right now…”

  She seethed, chomping at the bit. Her entire career flashed before her, and all she wanted to do was gouge Camden’s eyeballs out of his skull and go bowl with them. Terrell sighed and leaned against the table. Then he threw up his hands.

  “Yasmine, I really don’t know what you want me to do at this point. I’m not going to switch the case back to you because that’s a paper trail and it looks unprofessional.”

  “Looks unprofessional?! We’re far beyond him having my case. I am demanding he be fired!”

  “Fired?!”

  “I showed you evidence of him being canned not once, but twice from two different firms!” She held up two fingers. “His misconduct is a mile long, and that’s only what’s documented. That’s the only paper trail you should be concerned about right now.”

  “Yasmine, I wish—”

  “You are willing to risk me leaving, one of your best attorneys to date, and the firm’s reputation, all so you can repay a favor?” She couldn’t believe this shit. “That doesn’t make sense. He must have some good shit on you. Damn, Terrell,” She yanked her briefcase off the table and marched to the exit. “Who neutered you? They did an excellent job. Your balls are now in my court. I’m about to serve.”

  And then she slammed the door behind her, her body on fire and rage filling her from head to toe…

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The Last Straw

  He adj
usted his Asian panache silk black and red robe, gifted to him by the owner of The Cage, and opened his front door with a Toro cigar and glass of warm cognac in hand. The sight that greeted him took him aback for laser beams were shooting out of his lover’s eyes. Yasmine’s nostrils flared and if wrath had an aroma, she was covered in it. She marched past him so fast, his skin was touched by a cool breeze.

  She removed her heels and kicked them off to the side with a swipe of her foot. Her coat and blazer were tossed haphazardly on the couch and she then headed to the kitchen, moving with intent and purpose.

  Rather than pour her usual glass of wine, the woman grabbed a bottle of Bottega Prosecco Gold from the wine chiller, uncorked it as if she were being timed, and chugged it like some degenerate, voracious animal. He leaned against the wall and crossed his ankles, smoking, smirking. She’s sexy when she’s angry, too…

  He let some time pass then rested his cigar on an ashtray on the kitchen island. She turned and faced him, her hair disheveled, her eyes darker than usual. Her mood soaked into every fiber of her being and her lips were now smeared with faded plum lipstick. She placed the bottle down then belched. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she stared blankly at him. She reached for a silver earring, removed it, and then the other, slamming them both on the island. Fisting and unfisting her hands, she was a bundle of fury and twisted nerves. Pure indignation. An inferno of vexed emotions.

  He made his way towards the human flame and ran a slow finger down the side of her neck, then kissed her along her delicate, sweet-smelling collarbone.