by nikki blaire
“No need to feel guilty, Marc.” She easily read him. “Unless you have a reason to be.”
Claudette took a sip of wine then placed the glass on the table.
“I’ve told you time and again, Mother. I’m just as lost in all of this as anyone else.” He felt a sting in his chest at her asking him.
“Don’t get upset.” She patted his knee. “This is Marcus James Forde, Sr. we’re talking about. The man has more secrets than a Catholic priest. So, I’ve got to ask, dear. I’m not accusing you of anything.”
She grabbed her wine glass then stood up.
“Mother,” Marcus still felt the need to explain himself to her and justify his innocence. “I know this isn’t much of an answer, but we’re looking into the money,”
Claudette held up a hand to quiet him.
“I get it, dear. I understand.” She raised her glass to her lips then took a sip. “You trusted him, so you never asked.”
She shrugged. “After a while, I quit asking as well, but clearly, my no longer asking is how I ended up here. Humiliated.”
She gave him a wry smile. “I’m going to go get things ready for dinner.”
She started to walk away, but Marcus reached out a hand to stop her. He couldn’t let the conversation end with her feeling humiliated.
“We’re going to get through this. We’ve hired the best,”
“I know, I know.” Claudette waved his words away. “I’m sure you’ve got some really great plans to get us out of this mess.”
She gently placed her hand on Marcus’s cheek then walked away, leaving Marcus alone in the library.
He wanted to yell, but knew that he couldn’t. He wanted to hit something, but knew that he couldn’t do that either. The writing was on the wall. There was no way to save everything.
His loyalty to his father had been ingrained in him, but how could he stand beside someone who had no loyalty in return. Even worse, his father had shown little to no remorse for the predicament that he had placed the family in.
Most of the respect that Marcus had for his father had already eroded away, but hearing his mother say that she had been humiliated was a final straw. He had always seen her put their family before herself, and yet, here she was questioning her decision to do so because of her father’s foolish behavior.
I’ll choose what’s best for my family.
Marcus said to himself as he slowly stalked towards the dining room, just as the doorbell sounded. His mother was busy in the kitchen, so he made his way to the front to answer the door.
He casually swung the large door open, assuming it was his brother or sister. However, his breath hitched once he saw Charlisse standing there.
“Good evening.” She held out a small gift bag. “I wasn’t sure what was on the menu, but a nice Sauvignon Blanc goes with just about anything. It’s also one of my favorites.”
She stood in the doorway, while he gawked at her.
“Can I come in?” She smiled sheepishly, breaking Marcus’ temporary lapse of brain activity.
“Yes, sure.” He stepped aside. “No one’s here yet, but my mother is in the kitchen getting things ready.”
He took the gift bag from her then closed the door behind them.
“Is your father here? I wanted to discuss a few things with him before sharing with everyone.”
“No, and you can talk to me.”
Hearing his father referenced sobered up his glossy eyes immediately. “What are your concerns?”
Inadvertently, he placed a hand on the small of her back to guide her towards the dining room. A tiny spark of something that he could not adequately describe rose to his chest, as they walked.
“Well, more logistics, not necessarily concerns.” She let his hand linger, which sent heat straight to his groin.
“I know that your father has an attorney and the firm has counsel, but your family doesn’t. So, anything that I share isn’t privileged information. I just wanted everyone to be clear on that before I talk to everyone.
“That’s fine.” Marcus nodded in agreement.
“Marc,” She turned to him, placing her hand on his chest.
“That also means that your mother may be able to share some of these details during divorce proceedings. She’d have clear grounds to ask for alimony immediately because of it.”
Marcus looked down at her hand, his mind harkening back to the prior circumstances where she had them pressed against his chest. He bit his lower lip then forced himself to look into her eyes instead.
“Divorce?” That was the only word that he had actually heard her say. “My parents aren’t getting divorced.”
His father was in the dog house, for sure, but his mother would never drag them through something so public.
“Okay.” Charlisse gave him a curt nod.
In the same moment, his mother appeared to greet her guest. Like magic, her previously dark mood was replaced by her usual light and airy charm.
“I knew I heard a voice.” She grinned at Marcus then approached Charlisse with outstretched arms.
“Good evening, Mrs. Forde, my name is Charlisse,” She held out her hand for Claudette to shake, but was pulled into a light hug instead.
“Hello, dear. It is so nice to meet you, but please call me Claudette.”
His mother’s eyes shined at Charlisse before turning to Marcus. “I didn’t know you were bringing a date, Marc? She is beautiful.”
“She’s not my date, Mother.” Marcus sighed.
“This is Charlisse Lageaux, the crisis manager who the firm hired. I told you that she was coming.”
He was known for being sort of a playboy and usually he didn't take offense to such assumptions. However, his mother saying it in front of Charlisse bothered him.
“Oh, well, my utmost apologies, dear.” Claudette gave Charlisse a bright smile.
“My son most definitely forgot to mention that this “she” was so endearing.”
She cut her prying eyes at Marcus again.
“No apologies, necessary, ma’am.” Charlisse grinned.
“I brought a small token of appreciation for inviting me into your lovely home.”
She pointed to the bag that Marcus still held in his hands then beamed a picture perfect smile.
“Why thank you, dear.” Claudette graciously took it from his hands.
“I love a good bottle of wine.” She winked then motioned for Charlisse to follow her into the kitchen.
“You wouldn’t mind giving me a hand with a few things, would you?” She called over her shoulder, as Charlisse strutted behind her.
“No, not at all.” She shot an uneasy look at Marcus then mouthed, “I can’t cook” before scurrying away to keep pace with his mother.
A slight flutter hit his chest from watching the moment between them.
“Damn, bro. I was gonna make a comment about your staring, but it’s just too cheap of a shot to take.” Dwele’s voice sounded behind him, making him turn around.
“What? When did you get here?”
“A long enough time ago to watch you looking like a deer in headlights at ol’ girl.”
“I wasn’t,” He started to defend himself, but stopped short.
He didn’t need to explain himself to anyone, especially not his little brother.
“Fuck you.” Marcus retorted then turned away.
Suddenly, he needed a drink.
“C’mon, Marc. Don’t be like that.” Dwele followed him to the wet bar that their parents kept stocked near the dining room.
“And from how you’re looking at whoever the hell that is...there has already been something going on.”
Marcus sighed heavily before pouring himself a double.
“Again, fuck you.” He tipped the glass to his lips in an effort to be dismissive, but Dwele kept pushing.
“She did and that’s why you’re staring.” Dwele chuckled. “Who is that anyways? I’ve never seen her before. Tell me that and this will be our little se
cret.”
He held up a glass of his own for Marcus to pour liquor into. Marcus narrowed his eyes at his brother in frustration at being found out so easily. He had thought that his attraction to Charlisse was under control.
However, clearly, that wasn’t the case if Dwele had spotted it so quickly. He was caught red-handed, but didn’t want to betray Charlisse’s request to keep their affair a secret.
“I mean, I could tell Ayda and she could help me pry it out of you.” Dwele sipped from his own glass, knowing that he had hit a nerve.
“Alright, fine. Charlisse is the crisis manager that we hired to get us out of this...shit.” He couldn’t think of a more accurate word.
“That’s the person you hired? Damn.” Dwele shook his head. “I’d have a hard time focusing on work with her walking around.”
Instinctively, Marcus punched his brother’s chest.
“She’s good at her job, Dwele. That’s why we hired her.”
“Alright, shit.” Dwele rubbed where Marcus' fist had landed.
“So, when did you have sex with her? Was that before or after she was hired?”
“Before.” Marcus admitted through gritted teeth. “And no one knows about it. Not even our father and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“No problem,” Dwele shrugged. “But you might wanna get a grip on your googly eyes if you want to keep this thing a secret.”
He toasted Marcus’ glass with a sly grin, just as their sister Ayda’s voice cascaded off of the walls and rang through the house.
“Where is everyone?” She came around the corner with her boyfriend, Tremaine, in tow.
“And you definitely can’t let her see that shit.” Dwele warned again with a whisper. “I’ll go hold her off for as long as I can while you get yourself together.”
He let out another slight chuckle then went to catch Ayda before she approached the dining room.
Got dammit.
Marcus scolded himself for being found out, but his brother was right. He needed to get a better handle on his libido if he planned to keep he and Charlisse to himself.
“Where’s our father?” Ayda accosted him as soon as she came close enough.
Marcus looked around, finally registering that everyone was there, except his father.
“I have no idea, Ayda.” He sighed, knowing that she didn’t believe him.
He hadn’t been able to keep up with his father’s whereabouts since all of this began.
“Sure.” She flashed a salty grin before taking a seat at the dining room table.
“Where’s Mother? The kitchen?” She looked in that direction, while Tremaine and Dwele greeted each other.
Marcus nodded, then let out a sigh of relief once Ayda took off in that direction leaving the three men alone.
“You want a drink, Marc?” Tremaine’s voice sounded from the wet bar.
He wanted to decline, but knew that one drink wasn't going to be enough to get him through what would most definitely be an eventful night.
“Sure.” He shrugged then sat down at the table.
His brother and Tremaine joined him soon after.
“I brought these for after dinner.” Tremaine passed Marcus his drink then sat a small humidor on the table and opened it, revealing a handful of King of Denmark cigars.
“Hell yeah. I’m gonna need a cigar without a doubt.” Dwele reached for one then lifted it to his nose.
Marcus wanted to do the same, but hesitated at the thought of obliging Tremaine with anything. He was about to decline when his father’s advice to keep Tremaine close resounded in his head to his annoyance. How could his father’s advice still have an impact on him after all that he had done?
“Are you gonna smoke one, Marc?” Dwele turned to him, awaiting his response.
“Yeah, sure.” He found himself saying, although he remained conflicted.
“And thanks for the drink.” He nodded to Tremaine who was clearly shocked at his open acknowledgement and acceptance of his offer.
“No problem.” Tremaine glanced at him then closed the humidor.
“I’m thinking we’ll have these in the backyard. Ya know, away from all of this. I brought one for Mr. Forde too, if he wants to join...”
His sentence trailed off, as he looked around at the empty seats around the large dining room table.
Marcus couldn’t believe that his father would miss dinner, but again, he had learned that his father was capable of doing a lot of things.
“Well, we’ll see if he shows up.” Dwele voiced what they all were thinking, just as their father’s heavy footsteps were heard entering the room.
“Talking shit about me in my own damn house.” Marcus, Sr.’s voice boomed behind them, as he approached the table.
Dwele opened his mouth to respond, but Marcus shook his head to silence him. Clearly frustrated, their father sat at his usual place at the head of the table. He let out a long sigh then nodded towards the bar.
“Good evening, Dad.” Marcus noticed the small gesture and stood up instinctively to pour him a drink.
He wanted to be upset with himself for so quickly obliging, but decades of ingrained respect didn’t just go away.
“Oh no, please continue your gossiping like women,” His father glared at them.
“No one was gossiping, Dad.”
Marcus placed a glass of scotch in front of the old man.
“You weren’t here. Were we supposed to pretend that you were? Would that have been more appropriate?” Dwele fired off before Marcus could intervene.
“Clearly, you’ve forgotten whose house you’re in, boy.” Marcus, Sr. leaned in, but stopped short once Ayda, Claudette, and Charlisse walked in from the kitchen.
“Oh, Marcus. I didn’t hear you come in.” Claudette set a roasted chicken at the center of the table, while both Ayda and Charlisse placed other dishes on the table alongside it.
“Mr. Forde, so good to see you again.” Charlisse smiled at him, but he was too on edge to properly acknowledge her.
Marcus could tell that his father felt ambushed, but he was having a hard time battling his own internal conflict to be of much help. Besides, the night was just beginning and he was sure that it was going to be a long one. He needed to save his energy for what was to come.
They each seated themselves closer together once dinner was served. To Marcus’ subtle disappointment, Charlisse sat across from him instead of in the seat he had left open next to him.
“Thanks for saving me a seat, bro.” Dwele whispered with a chuckle before pulling out the chair and sitting down.
He shot Dwele a glare, but quickly turned to give Claudette his attention as she led the family in saying grace over the food. Once she lifted her head, she began to pass the dishes of food around.
“Thank you so much for joining us tonight.” She beamed at everyone.
“I’m so happy to have each of you, especially our guest, Charlisse. Now, we are here to have an important discussion, but I ask each of you to remember that we do have a guest. So, please be civil.”
Her eyes narrowed in on each of her children before going back to Charlisse.
“Now, dear, we’d love for you to introduce yourself more formally.”
Marcus chest tightened when Charlisse licked her lips before speaking. Just like when those lips wrapped around him. Keeping his hands off of her, while having to work together was already beginning to become torture.
“Again, thank you Mrs. Forde for having me. Also, thank you, Marc for the invitation.”
She set those beautiful eyes on him and his control was lost again. Thankfully, he was sitting at the table. Otherwise, everyone would have seen the effect that Charlisse was having on him.
He willed himself to composure than glanced around to see if anyone had noticed his inner frustration. But everyone was focused on Charlisse, hanging onto her every word, ready to pounce with questions and comments.
“I’ve been in this type of work for over ten years.
” Charlisse continued. "And I’m very prepared for what lies ahead for Forde Financials, Inc. and consequentially for this family.”
Marcus watched as his sister began to fidget because she could barely contain her urge to ask questions. Contrastingly, his parents, especially his father, sat resigned, almost as if Charlisse wasn’t talking at all.
“So, I’m going to turn it over to questions and then I’ll follow up with anything that I think you need to know.” Charlisse finished and sure enough Ayda’s voice was the next one that they all heard.
“I have two questions.” She eyed their father then went back to Charlisse. “What exactly is the family facing? What can we all expect and what is your PR strategy because we’re already behind the news cycle on this story.”
“Yes, what are the upcoming legal challenges?” Dwele added.
Charlisse took each question in stride. She was the consummate professional and it was driving Marcus up the wall. She commanded this room the same way that she had commanded their meeting this morning. It was also the same way that she commanded the bedroom a few nights before.
“Honestly, there are a few scenarios of what could happen. I’ll go through each of them and then provide the strategy that I believe is best.” Charlisse began.
“First, the news will continue to run this story. It’s not going to stop any time soon, so I’ve drafted a response that your father still needs to approve, but it will be released tomorrow.”
“But we’re late.” Ayda interjected. “The narrative already paints my father as a low life.”
“I understand your perspective.” Charlisse remained calm. “But sometimes, in these situations, it's better to make sure your statement is thorough and accurate than to fire something off that can be picked apart. This statement announces transparency measures and an internal audit. That puts the firm ahead of what is likely to come, which will be a federal investigation.”
She gave Ayda a genuine smile then turned to Dwele.
“That leads me to your question, which is that the IRS or the FBI is going to comb through every file in the firm. An internal audit is to our benefit because it will allow the firm an opportunity to know every nook and cranny of its finances first.”