Cutting it Close

by Olivia Gaines

  Malika wouldn’t let it go, “But I bet you wish that it was...”

  She couldn’t answer the question because her cell phone rang. It was Omari. Her reaction was like a school girl’s. “It’s him!”

  “Answer it, fool,” Malika said.

  Her finger was at her lips, signaling them to be quiet. Her other finger slid across the screen of her iPhone, “Mooreland, Carlisle and Burns. This is Chantal.” Then she thought about the phone being her personal device. “Sorry, I’m in work mode.”

  She nodded as he spoke in the line. Listening to everything he was saying, trying to determine if there was an underlying message. There wasn’t. It was a party at his cousin’s place. He wanted her and Cody there.

  “Saturday?” she asked as she flipped though her calendar. “I think we can make it. Brooklyn Heights...yes, okay...six o’clock...we will be there.”

  She ended the call to look at her partners.

  “Oooh, Chantal got a date!’

  “Get back to work, you two. It’s not a date. It’s a political fundraiser or something,” she said.

  “Whatever! It is gonna be night time, and you are with a man. Good for you!” Malika said as she rose to head back to her desk. “I hope you get you some, too. You are looking dry around the lips.”

  For thirteen years, those two women had been at her side while she built a powerful company. Mooreland, Carlisle and Burns was now the number eight accounting firm in New York City. Her bank account was fat, her heart was swelling with new feelings. For the first time in her life, Chantal felt something other than fear. She felt hopeful.

  Omari Cromwell represented hope, and she wanted more of it and more of him.

  Saturday morning, Thurston, Douglas, Thomas, Johnathan and Harris all piled into the town car headed to Omari’s for a haircut. This left Tae-Tay plenty of time to prep the house for the evening’s festivities. In the lower room, she set up a gaming console for the older boys, and upstairs she loaded up on kid-friendly movies and snacks. It was an informal evening of family and friends, but outside of Veronica, she really didn’t have any of her own. Maybe in the group coming tonight, she would find someone with a kindred spirit. Tae-Tay was not holding out on wishing she would find somebody with something in common, but there was always hope.

  The caterers arrived at 11 am to get started, and she was astonished at how quickly the brownstone was transformed into something shiny and amazing. In her new role as Mrs. Cromwell, she picked up her clipboard to check her request against the wines that had been brought over for tonight, along with the two special bottles of something old Thurston ordered from a vintner. All in all, she was looking forward to the evening.

  Her old cell phone began to ring. Thinking it was her mother, she didn’t bother to look at the screen but answered the call. “Hello,” she said into the line.

  “TataLavisha, it’s me,” Leviticus said to her.

  “Hello, Daddy,” she responded dryly.

  “I just wanted to touch base to make sure you are okay,” he said gruffly.

  “The question is, Daddy, are you okay? The world has changed a lot since you went on an extended vacation,” she said sounding far more cordial towards him than she felt. She didn’t want to talk to him, but she had to get on the right side of him in order to get ahead of him. Being adversarial wasn’t going to get her there.

  “The only thing that has changed is that you young people have a new idiot box to stare at, but this one is in your hands,” he said.

  “Thank you, put that one over there, please,” she said to the delivery man who brought in a bouquet of fresh flowers for the corners by the windows.

  “You talking to me?”

  ”No sorry, Daddy, I was talking to someone else,” she paused. “I have to go.”

  “I know. I just wanted to tell you that you didn’t need to worry about me coming after you or nothin’. My hands are gonna be full for a while out here,” Leviticus told her.

  She didn’t know why she said it because truthfully, it would be more to her benefit for him to go back to prison. “Life has no value to the Arachnids other than what you can do for them or what you can give them. Those men would rather have your body for the night than your mind to speak to. Children mean nothing more to them than a number to boost their next sale. The funny thing is, Daddy, they don’t do anything to better the neighborhood with the money. You be careful. They are some very bad men,” she said.

  “I know, Pumpkin. However, I am the baddest one of them all, so they need to be worried about me,” he told.

  “Should Douglas and I worry about you?”

  “Naaaah, like I said, I’m busy right now,” Leviticus told her. “Be good, little girl.” Then he hung up.

  A cold shiver ran down her back. It was the way he said it which nearly made her throw up. He was up to something and she could feel it.

  In Compton, Spyder was on the floor throwing up blood. Boasting about his business practices is what landed him on the floor being kicked in the guts by a steel toe boot worn by Leviticus Wilson. The conversation started lightly as three small children with backpacks crossed the street to hand the bags to men in waiting cars. A fair-skinned hand reached out of the car to touch the little girl who brought the waiting stranger the bag. Leviticus rose to his feet as the man’s hand rubbed the little girl’s face. When the car door cracked open, Leviticus yelled at the little girl to get back. The stranger slammed the car door as it sped off. The girl was no more than seven.

  Leviticus looked at Spyder. The man didn’t seem to care about what he’d just seen. Two seconds and the child could have been gone and lost forever. A victim of some sick predator while he sat there counting a few dollar bills in his hands.

  “Come on inside, Spyder,” Leviticus said. “I have a special bottle of something my old lady kept for me while I was away that I want to share with you. Besides, you and me are like family.”

  “Oh yeah? That’s what’s up right there,” Spyder said as he opened the creaky old screen door. The blood stained rug was the first thing he noticed, but by then it was too late.

  The fly had trapped the spider.

  Chapter 17 Understanding...

  “You sure you got the address right, Ma?” Cody asked for the fourth time as they walked along the streets from the subway.

  “I have it right. It should be in the middle of the next block,” she told him.

  “Maybe we should have gotten on the front of the train instead of the middle,” he told her. Three seconds had not even passed before he asked, “Ma, you think Simel will be here?”

  “I’m sure he will be since Omari invited us both,” she said. Chantal double checked her phone to make sure her GPS had not gotten them lost. “Oh, here we are.”

  Now she felt like a total goober because she didn’t bother to ask her hostess’ name or whose house they were visiting. It didn’t matter. She had flowers and cheesecake; you can never go wrong with flowers and cheesecake. The flowers she gave to Cody. “You are to present these to the lady of the house and say thank you for having us,” she reiterated.

  “Got it,” he said. Cody rang the doorbell. Seconds later, a thin framed woman with golden blondish hair answered the door. The blond was a little too harsh for a woman of color but there was something about her that Chantal instantly liked.

  “Hello, welcome. Come on in,” she said. “You must be Chantal and Cody, I am Tae-Tay Cromwell, Omari’s cousin-in-law.” She waved her hand. “What a term...”

  Cody stepped inside the foyer. “These are for you. Thank you for having us. Is Simel here?”

  Chantal swatted at him, “Honest, I did teach him manners.”

  “It doesn’t matter. We have a five-year-old whose manners depend on his mood or what he is wearing,” Tae-Tay told her.

  “I brought cheesecake,” Chantal said.

  “Great! I will add it to the pile of food. If it doesn’t get cut, you take it back home because I am not about to listen to
the professor tell me about the starving children of the world. Like their little asses are going to eat cheesecake...,” Tae-Tay said. “Most of the people from those countries are more lactose intolerant than we are.”

  “That’s a good point.” Chantal followed Tae-Tay into the home, which was tastefully decorated. “May I ask...Tae-Tay is an abbreviation of a longer name?”

  “Yes, TataLavisha. My parents had low ambitions for me and my future,” she said with a smirk.

  “I like you,” Chantal said with a smile.

  “Not more than you like me, I hope,” Taylah said from around the corner.

  “You, I am still hating,” Chantal whispered.

  “Oh, don’t hate, Honey. You should appreciate me and my magic fingers,” Taylah.

  Chantal shook her head no.

  “Do I even want to know?” Tae-Tay asked.

  Chantal said, “No.”

  Taylah said, “Yes.”

  “It’s quite funny actually...we went camping with Omari and the math genius over here wiped her coochie with stinging nettles,” Taylah said.

  Tae-Tay’s mouth was wide open, “Nooooo!”

  “Yep,” Taylah. “Then after that, she went to pick up twigs for kindling and picked up a baby garter snake instead and went screaming and running face first into the lake. She scared the hell out of the little snake!”

  By now, even Chantal was laughing.

  “I must say, throughout the whole ordeal, she was a champ. I hope you and I can consider that our bonding experience and become friends,” Taylah said.

  “We already are,” Chantal said as she extended her hand for a shake.

  Tae-Tay was smiling as she dragged Chantal into the dining room where the rest of the family had gathered. As hard as Chantal tried to remember the names, there were too many people. The few which were gathered in the living room were joined shortly thereafter by more, including Lawrence and Katie - those two she would remember. Someone named Candace Burrows, a lady named Debra, who was Tae-Tay’s husband’s assistant, and Omari and his parents.

  Omari’s mother cornered her in the living room on the plight of women in underdeveloped countries. She also described in detail how female circumcision is conducted, which left Chantal with a sour taste in her mouth. She escaped to the kitchen to find Tae-Tay staring out the window. It was a look she was very familiar with, so she cleared her throat before walking up on the woman.

  “I know that look,” Chantal said.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “It is the look of a woman who has escaped something ugly but is always afraid that something uglier is lurking in the shadows to drag her back to a horrid world,” Chantal said.

  Tae-Tay looked her up and down.

  “I guess you do know that look,” she said A small pump bottle of lotion sat at the kitchen sink that Tae-Tay used to wipe over her hands, but Chantal could see her hands were not dry and she was nervous about something.

  “Would you like to talk about it with someone impartial?”

  “No one is ever impartial, and no, I keep my business to myself,” Tae-Tay told her.

  “Understood, but some monsters require a team to slay,” Chantal said softly.

  “Not the one under my bed,” Tae-Tay muttered.

  “They can’t be any worse than waking up and finding the monster standing over the bed watching you sleep,” Chantal said softly.

  “What is your name again?”

  “Chantal Mooreland, of Mooreland, Carlisle and Burns, accountants,” she said.

  “Did my husband hire you or something?”

  “No, I haven’t spoken with your husband,” she said to the hostess.

  Tae-Tay grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into the other room where the men had all gathered to chat. “Thurston, darling, I would like you to meet your new accountant for your congressional campaign. This is Chantal Mooreland of...what did you say?”

  “...Mooreland, Carlisles...”

  “...And Burns,” Thurston finished the sentence. “It is a pleasure to meet you in person. I am very familiar with your work and I need a good accountant for my campaign, but I have to ask, are you red or blue?”

  “The only color which concerns me is green, Mr. Cromwell,” she said.

  “Even better. Omari is my campaign manager, so the two of you will work closely together. Let’s set a date and time to get together next week so we can iron out the details and get started,” Thurston said.

  “Works for me,” she said.

  Omari, who had been watching her all night, finally got up the courage to walk over and initiate the conversation he’d been wanting to have with her all week.

  “I didn’t get a dinner invite this week,” he told her.

  “Doesn’t this count?” she said with one eyebrow arched. “I mean, we are here...there is food.

  “You are a smartass, aren’t you?”

  “It really beats being a dumb one,” she said without blinking.

  He stood for a minute, looking her in the eyes. They were nice eyes. Brown eyes with full lips, a cute nose, and the right size woman.

  “Stop being rude and say what’s on your mind,” she said.

  “You don’t pull any punches,” he mumbled.

  “Life is too short to be petty and beat around the bush,” she said. She looked up to see Taylah watching the two of them. She mouthed at Chantal, “You said bush!” Then she pointed at her crotch. Chantal turned her back to the woman.

  He inhaled deeply, running hands down the fronts of his pants. There was so much he wanted to say, but the words were escaping him. He went for the obvious.

  “It seems like you and I will be spending a lot of time together on this campaign,” he said.

  “No. You send me receipts. I make sure you don’t overspend. You stay in Harlem and I will be in Mid-Town,” she said.

  “Damn it, woman, I am trying to ask you out,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “Oh, so now you want to date. You’ve come to terms with your deepest secret, I take it,” she said facetiously.

  “If it goes well, then I mean...kids...and all...,” he fumbled over his words.

  She almost got loud on him. Chantal pulled herself back, “I don’t want no more damned kids. I am not doing that great with the first one. I am ready for him to go to college so I can travel and enjoy myself. I ain’t got time for no more babies, diapers, or potty training!”

  The freshness of the conversation was so stimulating to him that he was almost overcome. “Chantal, I want to kiss you so bad I can barely stand it,” he said.

  “Are you asking permission or going to talk about it?” she said.

  He stepped close to her, gently taking her into his arms. The kiss was tender and gentle with his hands around her waist. Her mind began to wander as she thought about him by the lake without his shirt. The sweat glistening off his back with the patch of thick hair on his chest. She leaned in, pulling him closer, her breasts pressing into his chest, the feel of his thighs against her own as she moaned into his mouth and exhaled as a wave of pleasure washed over her. She gripped him tight as she shuddered against him.

  “Shit,” she mumbled.

  “What in the world was that?” he asked.

  Taylah, who also had great comedic timing peered around the corner, “Don’t feel special, Omari - she’s easy.”

  “Still hating you, Taylah,” Chantal said, not looking at the woman. Omari’s shirt was gathered in her hand as she held on to him. “I’m so sorry,” she said.

  Omari was trying his hardest not to blush. “Uhmm, we are going to have to do something about that,” he said lowering his head.

  “I sure hope so,” she mumbled. “This is beyond humiliating.”

  Thurston clanked a spoon against a crystal goblet to get everyone’s attention and he made his announcement. Cheers went about the room as Omari stood close to a woman he not only liked, but respected as well. However, Dirty Red’s words came to mind. He needed to talk w
ith Cody before anything progressed. He left the crowd to go find the boy.

  “Cody, can we talk privately?”

  “Sure, Mr. Omari,” he said. “No cheating, Simel! I’ll be right back.”

  They climbed the stairs to go out the front door and sit on the stoop. The night was clear as the sounds the city slowing down bounced around them. He didn’t know where to start the conversation with the son, either.

  “I met my Dad,” Cody said.

  “What? When? Where....did your Mom set it up so you two could finally meet and talk or something?”

  “No, she doesn’t know so please don’t tell her I know,” he said as he sat on the stoop with his hands perched on his knees. “He is actually my best friend’s dad. Funny thing is, Tyler, that’s my friend, is always complaining what an asshole his dad is, how they never spend any time together, so I mean...I don’t feel bad about not knowing the dude.”

  “How did you meet him?”

  “He picked up Tyler from Lacrosse practice. I mean, Tyler doesn’t like play on the team or anything ‘cause he is like a total tool when it comes to coordination, so I convinced the coach to make him equipment manager. He gets a jersey, travels with the team and all, so the girls thinks he’s on, you know?”

  “I’m with you, but what makes you think Tyler’s dad is your father?” he asked.

  Cody scratched his head. “The dude looked at me, Mr. Omari, and you would have thought he’d seen a ghost or something. Tyler didn’t help any because he introduced me as his brother from another mother,” Cody said laughing.

  Omari knew the kid had done something bad. “I am waiting for this one,” he said to the boy. “What did you do? How did you handle it?”

  “Well, my Ma is always saying I’m an iggnant ass, so I did what my iggnant ass shoulda did. I stuck out my hand and said nice to meet you, Daddy. He almost choked,” Cody said.

  “Let me get this straight. He looked at you like he saw a ghost and you think that he is your dad?”

  He exhaled loudly. “All the way from the widow’s peak on my head to the gap in my teeth because he has them both, but you want to know how I really know?” he said as he scratched his neck. “Tyler invited me to dinner with them, but they were going for seafood. I told him I had to pass because I was allergic to shrimp.”