by nikki blaire
“Shhh, hold on.” She had to quiet him because she couldn’t miss a second.
“A few years later, I began a romantic relationship with Mr. Marcus Forde, Sr., of which I am not proud of. The pressure of this relationship led to various lapses of judgment that included entering into a business relationship with his firm as well. This business relationship led to Mr. Forde being paid a commission for their services.”
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me!” Marcus growled.
Despite the early hour, he walked over to a nearby wet bar and poured himself a drink. At this rate, Charlisse was feeling like she needed one too.
“Ending our personal relationship was difficult, partly because of my entanglement and partly because of fear.”
Margaret kept on, which sent Marcus over the edge. He gripped his glass so tightly that Charlisse thought it might break. She reached out to touch his arm hoping to bring some form of comfort. He eased up for a brief moment, but his body was still tense.
“I feared that I could not remove myself from either relationship safely. The truth of our relationship has torn apart three families. It has torn apart mine, Nexlon’s, and the Forde family, to which I extend my deepest apologies. However, it has been a source of freedom for me as well. I repeatedly told Mr. Forde that our relationship was over, even after the news became public. However, it was the launch of further investigation and the stigma of the prolonged media, although humiliating, that made the calls, visits, and indiscretions finally cease.”
“I am fully cooperating with the authorities. In addition, I will resign from my position as CEO of Nexlon Materials, but will remain on the Board of Directors, where I will work tirelessly to restore the trust of our clients and those we serve. Thank you. I will not be able to take any questions.”
Margaret lowered her head and then was escorted off of the stage.
“That conniving bitch.” Marcus’ eyes turned red as his anger flared.
Charlisse could see right through Margaret’s thin veil of an excuse for her behavior, but she knew the public, which already held deep notions of hatred and fear against Black men, would buy right into this.
“She basically admitted that she embezzled from Nexlon.” Charlisse tried to look at the bright side of things.
“Yes, but at my father’s request. All while fuckin’ her and holding a gun to her head. That’s the picture she’s painting.” He fumed.
“The feds have clearly got her on it. She’s just trying to poison the well and create reasonable doubt."
“And what do we have that says otherwise? My father, who has clearly been keeping shit from me and who can’t ever be found when we fuckin’ need him? Expenses that probably at the very least, corroborate the affair?”
Marcus flopped down on the couch with his head in his hands.
“We’re fucked, aren’t we?” He didn’t even bother to look up at her.
“No, not necessarily.” She absentmindedly began to rub his shoulders.
“He’s been lying to me, using me. Ever since this shit began, he’s been all on my ass about having his back and trusting him.”
Charlisse let Marcus vent. Her hands moved from his shoulders to his back. He didn’t need a crisis manager right now. He needed her support, and with the way he was pulling at her heart strings, she was willing to do anything to ease his pain.
“Marc, listen.” She leaned down to look into his eyes. “This is for me to dig through, not you.”
“This does not look good.” He glared at her, his nostrils flaring. “No amount of positive bullshit is going to fix this.”
“I never said it was, but this is for me to fix. That’s what you hired me for. Do you trust me?"
“Of course, but,"
“Then trust me.” She moved a little closer. “Find your father, if you can, and I’ll come up with our next steps, okay?"
Marcus nodded his understanding, finally buckling under the weight of it all.
“My mother was right. She said that we weren’t going to be able to save everything. She told me that I’d have to choose. I just didn’t want to believe it.”
“Well, good thing I’m not trying to save everything.” Charlisse smiled tenderly. “I only care about saving you."
A look that Charlisse was all too familiar with consumed Marcus’ face. He wanted her and their closeness had piqued her own desires, but she couldn’t give in.
“I mean, saving you means saving the firm.” She stood up and began to pace around the room.
“It’s been mentioned before, but I think now is the time to really pursue it,”
“My father has to resign.” Marcus finished for her with a hint of apathy in his tone.
“And you become the CEO.”
She looked over at him just as he reached for his drink. Marcus took a long sip then sighed as the smooth liquid hit his throat.
“Charlisse, that’s not an easy thing to do. Even in the midst of all of this. I’m sure he’ll hold onto being CEO even tighter. He’s clearly lost his damn mind.”
“I’m sure, but like I said, let me worry about that. I’ll give you a plan to make it happen. I'll see you later tonight after I've come up with something.”
Marcus nodded then stood up to show her to the door.
“That’s all the time you need to figure this out?” He put his hand on the knob, but lingered in the doorway.
“Do we have anymore time for me to? Now, excuse me.” She smirked then brushed by him for the door.
She needed to get out of there. The walls had felt like they were closing in every time Marcus focused his eyes in on her.
She looked down at her phone to call herself a Lyft when she noticed the slew of text messages and emails that she had missed while with Marcus, but one stood out as she scrolled through.
You lied to me. Since when do we do that to each other?
She read the text from Brandon. Charlisse sighed.
“Not today.” She walked to the edge of Marcus’ driveway, as the car arriving for her approached.
“Everything just keeps getting worse.”
*****
Marcus let out a long exasperated breath once Charlisse was out of the house.
“Shit.” He cursed at the smell of her perfume that still lingered in the room.
He had appreciated having her here, even if his body has been humming the entire time. Her presence had brought him peace, even if it had only been for a short time.
“Get your mind right.” He warned himself, as he walked back into the living room.
He had a laundry list of things to do, so he couldn’t let his mind stay on Charlisse. But once he shifted from thinking of her, his anger resurfaced.
“The bastard.” Any semblance of respect that he had for his father was gone.
He lied to me.
The thought of his father laughing at him swirled around in his mind. He cringed at the notion of his father believing that he had duped him.
“I need your support, Marc. I’m fighting for my life.” He mocked his father’s words during their meeting in his office. It felt like forever ago even though it hadn't been.
It was as if Marcus was in the twilight zone. Nothing was what it had once been or even close to what it was supposed to be. He had always thought of himself as his father’s right hand and closest friend. These past few weeks had shown him that he was just another means to an end for Marcus Forde, Sr.
“We’re not the same.” He began moving on autopilot, as he looked for his keys and wallet.
In the next moment, he was in his car speeding towards the Four Seasons where his father usually stayed.
Marcus hoped to find him holed up in his hotel room hiding from his responsibilities like the coward that he truly was.
He pulled up to the front of the hotel, where a valet attendant stood waiting. He got out of his and passed the attendant his keys before making his way to his father's usual suite. They often booked the same suite for late nigh
ts or early mornings when it just didn’t make sense to go home.
A few of the familiar staff members greeted him, as he made his way up to the suite. Walking through the hall felt like a slow motion movie scene right up to when he stopped in front of the door. He gathered himself for a moment then rapped his hand on it hard.
“I knew you’d show up here sooner or later.” Marcus, Sr. swung the door open with a scowl.
Blues music played in the background and the distinctive scent of marijuana hung in the air. The last time Marcus saw his father smoke weed was when his grandfather died several years ago.
“You haven’t been answering my calls.” Marcus ventured deeper into the suite.
He looked around and immediately wondered whether his father had ever brought Margaret Winters here. The same sick feeling that he had the night that his father packed up and left the house assaulted his stomach. He was sure that he would throw up, but remained as collected as he could. He had to handle this.
“Would you believe that I’m not in the mood?” Marcus, Sr. picked up the joint that he had left on the table before answering the door.
He inhaled then set it back down.
“I could give two fucks about your mood.” He came closer, disgusted at his father’s nonchalance. “So, this is where you’ve been? While all of us have been dealing with your shit?”
“That’s what the girl is for isn’t it? She’s supposed to fix everything.” He casually cast a glance at his son.
“Her name is Charlisse.” Marcus could feel his blood boiling at his father’s blatant disrespect. “And she can’t fix what she doesn’t know about. You’ve been lying to all of us.”
“Well, now, you know.” He slowly stood then made his way to the decanter of cognac.
“Wow,” Marcus chuckled dryly. “Drinking and smoking instead of trying to do anything about the shit you’ve put all of us through.”
“And what do you suggest I do, Marc?” He sneered. “You didn’t come with a plan?”
“I actually did.” Marcus finally sat down.
He hadn’t intended on asking his father about resigning before Charlisse had time to really flesh it out, but he couldn’t wait. His father had become insufferable.
“You need to resign.”
“Resign? You’ve really let her get to your head.” His father was dismissive. “I’m not resigning, Marc and that’s final.”
“Don’t bring up Charlisse again.” The anger that Marcus had been holding back was starting to bubble up beyond his control.
“And I’m not here to ask you. I’m telling you.”
“You...are telling me?” His father’s face formed an expression of amusement.
“All of this is because of my name. This is what I’ve built. And now, you...are telling me?”
“You’re a got damn liability. You’ve lied at every turn. No one trusts you to run this business. The firm may not survive if you don’t have some sense and stop pandering to your ego,”
“I can’t run what I fuckin’ built?” His father roared, lurching forward. “Who in the hell do you think you are?”
Marcus stood still, daring his father to come closer.
“You know, what, I think I've figured it all out." Things suddenly came together for Marcus.
"Margaret may want the city to believe that you’re some kind of mastermind, but I think I really know what happened.”
“See, you thought you had it all under control. Marcus Forde, the man, the myth, the legend. You really believed that you had brokered the deal of a lifetime. You had Nexlon in your pocket and were getting some pussy on the side."
He shook his head, as it all started to make sense.
“You’re walking on thin ice, son.”
“Am I?” Marcus chuckled heartily. “Or am I getting to what it really is?"
All of his life, Marcus had idealized his father. But now, he realized that he was a better man than his father ever would be.
"The truth is that she played you. You believed that you had pulled off the impossible, that you had her all wrapped up in you and paying that exorbitant fee. But she played you and your ass didn’t find out until it was too late."
Marcus spewed at his father with detestation dripping from his words like venom.
"You’ve been fighting to hold onto your pride, right? Because Marcus Forde, Sr. got played.”
His father stood still then suddenly lunged at Marcus, which sent them both to the ground. In the next moment, Marcus felt hands wrapped around his neck. His father’s strength was nothing compared to his own, so he easily shook his father’s hands free of his neck.
Marcus spun them both over, which made their bodies hit against the coffee table knocking over a few items. They rolled to the other side, hitting against a chair until, finally, Marcus was on top of his father. Adrenaline rushed through him, while he pressed his forearm against his father’s throat.
“You’ve lost your mind.” Marcus spat at him.
He held him there for another moment, then finally released him. “Get up.”
Marcus, Sr. struggled to rise to his feet. He was out of breath and his chest was heaving. He grabbed the arm of a chair to steady himself until he was standing upright again.
“You’re trying to take everything from me!” He pointed at his son.
“I am trying to save everything from you!” Marcus threw his hands up.
“From me? Your son? How could I ever take anything from you?” He couldn’t believe that this is what his father thought of him.
“Everything that I’ve done has been about this family. What’s your motive been?”
Marcus shook his head. “Don’t even answer that. It’s already pretty clear. You can’t see past anything other than yourself.”
“You don’t know a damn thing about what it’s like to really be me. I’d be a fool if I never considered the fact that you’d try and take my firm.”
"Your firm. Your life. That's all I needed to know to know that I'm right about everything that happened."
“That’s not how it happened!” His father bellowed.
“Then, tell me how it happened, Dad.” Marcus let his head fall.
He was exhausted. He walked back over to the chair and flopped down, while his father did the same across from him. A suspenseful hush fell over the room, while both men just stared at each other. Marcus was staring in pity, but he wasn’t sure what his father saw while looking at him.
“I didn’t get that bitch to do a damn thing, Marc. She came to me with her plan after she was already a client.” His father’s tone lowered.
“She said that she had a fund where her shareholder’s profits were being held. She asked me to manage it, keep it healthy and growing in exchange for a commission. The commission fee that she offered to pay was exorbitant, and I knew that.” He sighed.
“But that's all I knew. A year later, the affair started. She came onto me, Marc. And I just went with it because the commission grew. Then one day, I overheard her on the phone talking to someone about the account. She was acting like she had no idea about it. She said she would look into it and hung up. That’s when I first had an idea of what was going on, but I was in too deep.”
His head fell.
“What was I going to say or do then? I ain’t a damn snitch, so I kept my mouth shut. I figured that would protect me. I thought that she would protect me. The last time I saw her was after the news broke. I confronted her and she...laughed at me.”
He looked off at nothing.
“How was I going to tell your mother, you, or anybody that I let her get the best of me?” His father leaned forward to pick up the joint from the table.
He took a long puff then set it back down. “There, you got it all now.”
Marcus wanted to say something, but he was too stunned to form a single word. His father’s confession didn’t make him any less angry. It didn’t soothe him in the way that he thought knowing the truth would.
> “Thank you for finally telling me the truth.” Marcus clasped his hands. “I’m sure Charlisse will have more advice for you on how to stay out of prison.”
He slowly stood to his feet.
“That's it?” His father grunted as Marcus turned to the door.
“What else is there for me to say? I needed the truth years ago. Shit, even getting it weeks ago would have been better. I’m not going to give you praise for doing what you should’ve done.”
Marcus turned back to face him.
“But I am going to thank you for finally showing me who you really are, so I could stop trying to be a man that never really existed.”
“Your self righteous shit is old, Marc.” Marcus, Sr. sniped. “I’ve got enough people judging me. I don’t care if you’re added to the list.”
“And that’s fine.” Marcus shrugged, finally free of wanting his father’s approval.
“And I’m not resigning. So, go back and tell your little do-girl that.”
“Like I said, I wasn’t asking you. I was telling you.” Marcus narrowed his eyes in on his old man.
“You and I are different in a lot of ways. That’s clear to me now, but we are the same in that we get what we want. I’ll tear you apart, piece by piece, to save this firm and my family. Trust and believe that shit. Don’t make me ruin you, Dad, but just know that I will.”
Marcus walked to the door.
“You’ve resigned. Effectively immediately.” He called over his shoulder and then walked out.
The next moments were a blur as Marcus left the hotel and then waited for his car to be pulled around by the valet. Once inside the car, his feet pressed the gas on their own and then he sped out of the parking lot.
Nine
The desk where Charlisse usually worked while at home was covered with sample images and illustrations of her rebranding strategy for Forde Financials, Inc. She stood over the various pieces with her hands on her hips.
“It’s amazing what a Black woman can do in less than 24 hours.” She stared down at the superimposed images of Marcus on the firm's website and various magazine covers.
After leaving his house this morning, Charlisse got right to work. She was motivated by the pressure. The pressure from Marcus and the pressure that she put on herself.