“Griff, that was my fault, and I take full responsibility. I shouldn’t have opened the door,” Antoine said.
Simon leaned forward. “We’ve got to tighten our security measures.”
“Toni, can you make that happen pronto?” Griff said.
Toni’s weary smile and nod provided minimal assurance for Antoine. In her position, she had a heavy workload. Repetitive discussions about preventing the pictures from getting out to the media circulated from plan A to B, and back to A again. How did they plan to protect him and his reputation? He was the only one that could be identified, and that could possibly hurt his career.
The meeting didn’t end soon enough for Antoine. He exited Toni’s office with conflicting feelings. His first concern was whether Jada had received photos, and he was tempted to approach Kiley about the matter. If Jada had pictures, why would she avoid mentioning them? He’d attempted to answer that question repeatedly yet could not fathom a reasonable answer. You need to calm down. There is still the roadblock of Kiley’s potentialblackmail to be crossed.
Chapter 30
JADA
Thursday
Jada and Celine opened the door and walked into the siren-like sound of one smoke detector and smoke so thick that it resembled a forest fire.
“Char? What you burnin’ in there?” Celine yelled, turning up her nose and propping the door open. She and Jada rushed toward the kitchen.
“I was cookin’ a hamburger since I didn’t see any food on the stove,” Charmaine said, fanning the stove with a folded newspaper.
“That burger must be charred,” Jada laughed. “You need to learn how to cook before you burn the house down.”
“I second that motion. Cause one day you’ll be cooking for yourself,” Celine said. “Turn the fan on high and open the kitchen windows. Oooh…we need our smoke detector’s serviced.”
Charmaine opened the windows. “Right on the detectors. Only the one in here is working. Oh, Sissy, Denise brought you an envelope. It’s on the coffee table,” Charmaine said, walking out the kitchen with a plate in hand. “She said call when you get here.”
Jada picked up the manila envelope with her name on the front. She went to her bedroom, closed the door, and turned the fan on before she called Denise.
“Hey, Jada. Did you open the package?”
“Celine and I just walked in. What’s in here?”
“Girl, I didn’t ask. It’s from Antoine; he said read what’s inside right away. I’ll call back.”
“Okay.” Jada ended the call and opened the sealed envelope, in disbelief that he’d asked Denise to make a delivery. She removed a handwritten letter, two airline tickets, and money. “What’s this for?” she asked with crinkled brows. She crossed her legs and read the letter, which started off with the salty words “Is your head on straight? If yes, why are you messing with mine?” She laughed. This was so like Antoine, and she was not surprised. By the end, he’d cleaned up the language with a beautiful poem that ended with “My heartbeat, my love. I hope you’ll join me in San Francisco. Love you, Ant.” Her cell rang.
“Sorry. I was with a client,” Denise said after Jada answered the phone. “All right spill the beans.”
“He sent two airline tickets to San Francisco. One for an earlier flight, the other for a later one.” Jada shook her head. “Now, see. This is what I’m talking about. Who can afford to buy two first class one-way tickets and two more to get back? He wants me to fly up to Frisco tomorrow. Can you imagine?” She kicked her shoes off. “At his command, I’m supposed to take off like a helicopter. I don’t work that way.”
“Go on up there. No excuses.”
“You don’t know Antoine. As usual, he’s impulsive; he’ll make plans and tell me at the last minute. Celine’s hair stylist is doing my twisties tomorrow, and I’m not changing my appointment. It took forever to get one.”
“Jada, stop! Do you really love that man?”
Silence.
“Answer me.”
“Yes, I love him. More than the air I breathe.”
“Then, cut the minor details, get your hair done and take a flight. He mentioned your dress shop.”
“Yeah, his note said I have to be in a meeting.” Jaida picked up the tickets and stared at them. “That man. At times, he’s off the chain.”
“Can I ask you another question?” Denise said.
“Sure.”
“We talked about this the other day. You said you’d call him after you worked through your feelings. Have you done so?”
Jada bowed her head and considered how to answer. “To some extent, yes. Am I ready to talk to him? I’m not sure, but I will.”
“Awesome. Stop with the blaming and criticism and take my advice.”
“I know, and you’re right. I guess I’ll pack this evening.”
Jada ran her fingers through her hair and shook her head. Amazing as Antoine was, there’s so much she didn’t understand about him. Unconventional, talented, sweet, and complicated. She fell in love with him, and never had she ever desired a man so completely and infinitely.
Jada realized she hadn’t been fair to Antoine. Should she tell him; how could she tell him about her anxiety disorder and be sure he wouldn’t judge or leave her?
“You’ve got to fly up there to straighten—” Denise paused. “Ah, no!”
“What is it?”
“I’m scrolling through my emails. Have you checked yours?”
“No.”
“Quick. Sign in now. Toni sent an email regarding the pictures.”
Jada stuffed the letter and tickets back inside the envelope and reached for her iPad on the nightstand. She quickly opened the email. “Oh, great,” she slapped her leg. “The pictures are floating around the station. I bet Kiley is doing this crap.”
“Slow down and read this carefully. Her email says Only Simon and Griff have photos thus far. Antoine’s name was not mentioned. You should call Toni. Let me ask you something…Could Gordan have done this?”
Jada frowned. “Gordan? I hadn’t considered him. What reason would he do something that stupid? Nah, it’s not him.”
“I understand he’s your ex. Don’t rule him out, though. You’d be surprised at what some folks will do. I’m sure he’d love to see you and Antoine split up. ”
“I’ve made up my mind. I can’t resolve this, and I’m hopeful management will.”
“Now’s the time to hit up Toni for a private meeting before another incident occurs.”
“For sure. Um…” Jada wound a strand of hair around her fingers. “What did Antoine say?”
“First, he seemed frazzled; a bit mad. He admitted it, but we didn’t talk long. Oh…he asked me if you’re pregnant.”
Jada’s lips puckered. “What made him ask that?”
“Girl, I don’t know. He said somebody asked and didn’t say who. I reassured him that you’re not.”
“Strange. Well, thanks for driving over here. I need to text him. Talk to you when I get back.”
“No problem. Have plenty of fun in San Francisco. And girl, whatever’s wrong, fix it.”
“I’ll work on it.” Jada ended the call and tapped in a message to Antoine stating that she’d received his envelope and would take the 2:12 p.m. flight with him on Friday.
Chapter 31
ANTOINE
Friday
Antoine settled in a chair at the airport and worked on another poem in progress and his book. He tried not to think of Jada, although she was prime on his list, considering he expected to see her by now. Laying his iPad down, he scanned the area. Boarding would take place soon and he questioned why she hadn’t arrived. This is ridiculous. He slammed his iPad shut and stuffed it inside the case, before exploring the waiting area and a couple of food businesses in the airport.
“Flight 1247 to San Francisco will depart on time. We will board in ten minutes,” echoed in the airport. Antoine scuttled back to the gate to line up in the first-class section, constan
tly scanning the area with a watchful eye as he moved forward. He removed his cell, and as quickly as he pulled it out, he put it back in his pocket. She’s not coming.
Within an hour and fifteen minutes, Antoine rested as the plane cruised low in preparation for landing. He was losing hope, and doubt gnawed at his feelings. What happened? Is my relationship with Jada irreparable? Once the plane landed, he turned his phone on and called an Uber. No texts or voicemails had come in from Jada. He thought the opportunity to introduce her to Joy, Ellis, and his wife would finally take place. An introduction to his father was less important other than to discuss a different resolution besides the Carson family’s eviction. That might change the whole dynamic of his usual visit. He retrieved his computer bag from under the seat, opened the overhead bend and removed a small backpack, then hurried off the plane.
Inside the Uber, he tapped Joy’s number.
“Hi, Ant.”
“Hi. I’m here. Jada didn’t make it.”
“Does this mean it’ll be us fighting for her business?”
“What can I say? I purchased tickets. She didn’t show up. Any plans set up with Pop yet?”
“Yes, but I’m not rescheduling. Call Jada, tell her to get up here.”
“Seriously? Give me a break. I’m not a miracle maker.”
“Neither am I,” she snapped. “She has to be at this meeting or there won’t be one. Maybe you’ll have a better chance if Pop meets her.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” He ended the call and put on his shades.
Upon entering his townhouse, the fragrance of Pine Sol and fresh flowers filled his nostrils. Noreen, his housekeeper, had done the weekly cleaning; the house was spotless. That’s why she’d kept her job for so long. She never failed to meticulously clean and bring him a fresh bowl of fruit and home cooked Jamaican food when he texted that he’d be in town. He smiled as he picked up a nectarine and washed it off. Taking a bite of the sweet fruit, he opened the refrigerator to Jamaican peas and rice, plantains, and jerk chicken. One of his favorite dishes.
Antoine walked to the downstairs bedroom, dropped his backpack in a chair and changed into a green camouflage t-shirt and olive-green shorts, then slipped on a pair of brown sandals. He couldn’t believe Joy’s harsh tone. Attempting to unravel issues that didn’t make sense had become taxing. It was hard to focus, write, or think because his mind was so cloudy. Now his sister was on him. What did she expect him to do, go drag Jada to the airport? He shrugged it off as Joy being under a lot of stress today.
He went to the kitchen, dumped the nectarine seed in the trash and got a bottle of water from the fridge, then walked back to the living room, and flicked on the big screen. He plopped on the burnt orange loveseat, adjacent was a matching ottoman, on which he kicked off his sandals and rested his feet. The aroma of Noreen’s food almost forced him to make a plate, but he didn’t want to go into a food coma this early. Writing would take precedence later, and he’d try to reach Jada.
A loud chime awakened him. He jumped up. The doorbell? No one knew he was in town, and how in the world had he fallen asleep this early? Sliding his feet inside his sandals, he rushed to the door and peeked through the peephole. Jada?
Antoine swung the door open. “Hey. What happened? You forgot how to get to the airport?” He twisted his mouth slightly to emphasize his sarcasm.
Jada tilted her head and glanced up at him. “Well, I made it safely; how are you?” She walked in with a shawl draped around her shoulders, pulling a small luggage behind.
“Here, let me help you.” He picked up the luggage to avoid scratching the hardwood floors and set it against the wall near the hallway.
“You mean I came up here and don’t get a hug or a kiss?” she folded her arms.
Antoine had no words; he stuck his hands inside his pockets and checked out Jada’s reddish-auburn braided hair. A brown off-the-shoulder polka-dot dress that stopped mid-thigh and a new fragrance almost forced him to hug, kiss her, and never let go. He’d missed this woman so much. Even though it had only been a few days, it seemed like weeks since they’d last spoken. All he could muster was a half hug. “I’m being real. I need answers. What happened, and why’d you stop talking to me?” He rubbed his palms together.
“Jeez. Before you plow me in the ground, can I explain?” She walked in the living room, glanced at the high ceilings and surrounding areas. “I was delayed at the hair shop and missed the 2:12 flight. I caught a Lyft, and when I got to the airport, I had to run to catch the next flight.”
“I’m up here taking care of your family’s business. It would’ve been nice if you had updated me.” He pushed his dreads back.
“I appreciate that, and I’m sorry. Remember, you chose to tell me at the last-minute.” She placed her purse on the coffee table and laid her shawl on the couch, then walked over to the fireplace for a closer view of a large picture above the mantel.
“Synthia Saint James.”
“The artist?”
He nodded, thinking of the day he and his mother went artwork shopping. “That’s Masekelas Marketplace Congo.”
“It’s beautiful. I didn’t know you’re into art.”
“Most anything that’s creative, I love. She’s a renowned African American artist. Mom’s the expert, and she helped me out on the artwork.”
He walked to the couch and sat down, never taking his eyes off Jada. “You still haven’t answered my question. Why’d you stop communicating with me?”
“Honey, I’ll explain.”
“Talk. I think I’m entitled to know. Ever since we’ve been together, not one day have we skipped talking or texting.”
“Except the day you left work without saying a word.”
“Hold up.” He waved his hands. “I’ll admit, I was hasty that day. I answered your text, though.”
“Yeah, much later,” Jada said, massaging her scalp.
“I love your hair. But why’re you doing that?”
“It’s these braids. They’re so tight I feel like my scalp is being pulled from my head.”
“Oh, wow. It’s that bad?”
Jada waved her hand and said, “Yes. I’ll deal with it, though. Listen, something happened that morning and today—” She paused.
“You read Toni’s email.”
“I did. It’s way more than the email. I was up early, and now I’m beat. Can we put this conversation off for a few hours?”
Antoine pulled his earlobe. This was not what he’d planned. A long conversation to clear all the dirt from his tray and hers was required. Then, he understood what she meant about the fatigue, and she deserved to rest.
“A few hours are no problem.”
“Thanks. These were great choices on the artwork.” She scanned the other art on the walls and tossed a glance over her shoulder at Antoine. “Uh, whose place is this?”
“Mine.”
She pursed her lips, “No. Who really stays here?”
“I said it’s mine. Why would I lie? Better yet,” he pointed at Jada, “I’m not delaying what I have to say any longer. Have a seat; I’ll be right back.”
Antoine skipped every other step until he reached the top of a wraparound stairway. He went into his office and removed a red folder with the deed and other documents. It’s time to be truthful. He walked to the top of the stairs and stalled; leaning against the bannister, he smiled. His beautiful woman was doing a catwalk through the kitchen, exploring. She walked over to the glass door that led to the sun deck; he thought she seemed a bit dazed and stiff as she gazed out at the scenery.
He bounded down the stairs and handed her the folder. “Here’s the paperwork for this property.” Jada examined the paperwork, her expression changing from a smile to a frown.
“What’s the matter?” Antoine said.
“You paid all this money for one townhouse?”
“Four townhouses. That’s what they sold for back then. This one’s mine, the other three in the building are leased out.”
He folded his arms, “These places are worth millions now, but I didn’t buy them. My father did. He bought houses for all his children, except me. I got the townhouses. I had plans to bring you up here.”
She arched a brow, “Why did you wait?”
“Why you looking at me like I have smut on my face?”
She handed him the folder. “I-I can’t stay here. I’m going back to L.A.” She grabbed her purse off the coffee table and her shawl, then started toward the door.
He followed close behind. “Babe, hold up. Why’re you trippin’ about this?”
She stopped and twirled around to face Antoine. “I’m trippin’? You’re trippin’ if you think I believe this Donald Trump lie.” With her hand on one hip, she said. “I wasn’t born yesterday. A black man who’s not playing ball. Not an entertainer, doctor, or lawyer, and you’ve got all this?” She shook her head. “Uh-uh. DJs don’t make that kind of money. You’ve got to be dealing drugs or doing something illegal.”
Antoine lifted his hands. “I’m not lying. I don’t deal drugs. I’m not doing illegal stuff.” He tried his best to avoid laughing.
“Oh, it’s funny. What. Do. You. Do? And don’t say you’re a DJ.”
“Can you step off the podium and take a seat so we can talk?”
“This better make sense. Or I’m outta here.” She rolled her eyes.
Antoine flashed a grin. “It will. Let me get us some wine.” He reached out for her hand; they walked to the couch, then he went to the kitchen and returned with two glasses of red wine and coasters.
“Where do I start?” he said. “A little more about the dress shop. In my note I mentioned my father has owned the building for seventeen years. I was unaware that he owned your building. This trip is to try, and I emphasize that, to see if I can work a deal with him.”
“Do you foresee difficulties?”
Rhythm Bay Love Page 16