“Not when you know your credit cards aren’t worth two cents. I’m getting up and going over there, and don’t try and stop me, Sylvia.”
“Oh, hell. I’m going to the bathroom. I can’t be a witness to this display of domestic violence. You’re taking it to a new level, Rachel.”
“Suit yourself.” Rachel got up from her seat and marched to Marvin’s table.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Sylvia ducked into the restroom, hoping time would be on her side. By the time she reappeared, all of Rachel’s steam and thunder would be gone and they could enjoy the lunch she so wanted to eat.
She exited the stall, and while she washed her hands, two women entered the restroom.
“That sister was laying that brother out,” the girl with the red lipstick and long ponytail said.
“She should have knocked him upside his head. Did you see the sister cringe in her seat when the brother’s girlfriend or wife got all up in his face?” the girl with the braids asked.
“Yeah, and I don’t get it ’cuz she was fat and didn’t look as good as the sister with the rap,” Ponytail responded.
“Girl, I wish I would catch my old man up in some restaurant with some sloppy-looking wench when he got all of this,” the girl in braids said.
Sylvia came from her corner after pretending to check her makeup. It was time to save Rachel from herself because if Sylvia didn’t, she might have to resurrect the Ex-Files.
Shaking her head, Sylvia gathered her composure and exited the restroom. It was obvious that Rachel was still the live entertainment. Heads were turned in her direction as she waved her arms up and down, demanding an answer to this and an answer to that.
“Marvin, I’m not going to stand here much longer,” Rachel shouted. “I don’t understand how you can treat yourself and this woman to lunch when all over town my credit cards are getting no respect.”
“I’m not going to talk to you about our business in front of the whole business community, and I certainly don’t have anything to say to you until you calm down.”
“Calm down? Is that all you people can say to me? You, Sylvia—calm down, calm down. My life is in crisis. How in the hell am I going to calm down?”
Yvonne fumbled in her purse for her glasses, put them on and got up to leave.
“Where do you think you’re going, Yvonne? You lied to me. You told me Marvin was at a meeting, but you never figured you were going to bump into me...did you?”
Marvin stood up. “Rachel, shut up. I am on the way to a meeting in a few minutes. I just returned to the office after Yvonne hung up with you. She told you the truth, and I will not have you disrespecting her like that. Yvonne has regarded you as a friend and always talks highly of you, and in a matter of a minute, you’ve changed every good thought she’s ever had about you.”
“It’s okay, Mr. Thomas.” Tears rolled down Yvonne’s face. She pushed past Rachel and fled to the bathroom.
“Hmph,” Rachel said. “So if you got the message, why didn’t you call?”
“Rachel, let’s go. You’ve shown your tail for the last time today,” Sylvia cut in. “Hi, Marvin.” Sylvia sighed.
“Hey, Sylvia,” Marvin said, his head bent down.
“Folks, you are going to have to take this outside the restaurant,” the manager said, coming from out of nowhere. “You’re disturbing the other patrons.”
“I’m out of here,” Marvin said, leaving several bills on the table. “I’ll talk with you this evening, Mrs. Thomas.” He pushed past Sylvia and Rachel and walked out of the restaurant.
“I don’t know what’s going on with you and Marvin,” Sylvia said, “but you both need a therapist, and you need help real soon—more sooner than later.”
“I can’t believe he dissed me in front of everybody. My own husband—the man I would give my life for,” Rachel said.
“Just think about how you’ve acted in the last hour or two,” Sylvia retorted. “Maybe that’ll give you a clue. I’m taking you home because I’ve had enough for today.”
“Suit yourself.”
“Hey, Mona, this is Kenny. Looking forward to tomorrow night. Sometime during the dinner, I need to have Michael introduce me to some of the bigwigs.”
“He’ll have to play it by ear, Kenny. My husband isn’t going to compromise his chance to possibly become the next surgeon general—that is if Obama becomes president.”
“Get out of here. I know the good Dr. Michael Broussard is well known amongst Atlanta’s social circles, but being considered for the spot of surgeon general is something to be proud of.”
“Yes, my baby’s got it going on. I’m so proud of him.”
“Mona, I would have never said this to you, but you and Michael are a dynamic couple. I’ve even watched you evolve as a person—especially after you got all that cynicism out of you. You were a witch way back when.”
“Watch it, Kenny Richmond, because I can have your name removed from that list you were so bound and determined to be on. But I deserved that—I wasn’t too kind to you when you and Sylvia first got back together. Remember, that was the night I met Michael. He was so handsome.”
“Yeah, I remember. It was the night that Sylvia and I knew that it was the beginning of the rest of our lives.”
“Wow, Mr. Richmond, that was pretty poetic.”
“Okay, Mona, just checking in with you. I’ll be on my best behavior. I’m just trying to use every tool I’ve got to move Thomas and Richmond Tecktronics forward.”
“Well, I’d like to help. We’re all family now; we’re in this together.”
“Thanks, Mona. That feels good.”
“I meant it, Kenny. You and Sylvia are close to my heart. See you tomorrow.”
“Alright.”
Kenny put the phone on its base and nodded his head. He smiled at the small walk down memory lane. Mona hated his guts then, but now she was a lioness with grace and beauty. He could have never conceived that a support group started by Sylvia for the lost and lonely would knit together a wonderful relationship between all the members. It was as if their destiny had been ordained by God and that the sun and the moon were put in the heavens exclusively for them—to light their pathway as love and prosperity rained down on them.
He swiveled around in the chair that sat beneath his desk and turned toward the picture of he and Sylvia on their wedding day. Picking up the photo, he kissed Sylvia. “I love you, girl.” He remembered the day he whisked her off to a jewelry store in Buckhead so that he could place the engagement ring he had bought earlier on her finger. He remembered Jamaica and how blue the water was all around them on the island resort—the day they said “I do” with family and friends...good friends—Rachel and Marvin, Mona and Michael, and Claudette and Tyrone. And Sylvia was so beautiful—like a sea goddess dressed in an off-white and gold nearly sheer silk dress that was sleeveless and had a elegant handmade gold leaf braid that extended from the bodice and wrapped around her neck. He remembered the baby’s breath that flowed through her upswept hair.
He also remembered attending the weddings of each of those friends—Rachel and Marvin, Mona and Michael, and the restatement of Claudette and Tyrone’s vows. He put the picture down and suddenly longed to be home with his wife.
He had buzzed Marvin several times this afternoon, but since there was no answer assumed Marvin had given Yvonne the rest of the day off and took one, too. Kenny was concerned about Marvin’s sudden mood change. It made him a little jittery. But promises of tomorrow night made Kenny put thoughts of Marvin’s recent attitude on the back burner. He had put together some proposals that he hoped would net him either some new clients and/or investors.
Kenny made one last call, shut down his computer, picked up his briefcase and headed home. Outside of the building, a flower peddler was trying to get rid of his last two bouquets. Money in hand, Kenny bought both of them and made the man’s day.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Exhale,” Marvin said to himself as he
sat in the underground parking garage. Images of his fight with Rachel invaded his thoughts—images he tried to shake but couldn’t no matter how hard he tried. Some of her ranting and raving was his doing or undoing depended upon whose view it was, but her very immature and embarrassing public display in the restaurant was more than he could handle.
He should have told her about the credit cards—the what and the why. Admitting failure before it was time was not his style, either, and whatever lengths and hoops he had to go through to save Thomas and Richmond and his family’s well-being was the risk he had to take.
The call from Cecil Coleman held a promise—a promise that he could fight the giants with a slingshot—the giants who threatened to make what was his theirs. If Cecil couldn’t help, there had to be somebody who could.
Looking at his watch, Marvin exited the car and went into the building and caught the elevator to the first floor. It seemed as if it were just yesterday that he had passed this way—through the double glass doors that opened up into the foyer with the terrarium. Gretchen, the receptionist, looked up and greeted Marvin with a very sultry smile.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Thomas. If you’ll have a seat, I’ll let Mr. Coleman know that you’re here.”
“Thank you,” Marvin said, changing his mind about flirting back. Gretchen’s hair was pulled back into a bun that was piled high on her head, which made her look sexy. Gone were the hornrimmed glasses and in their place, ocean-blue eyes that seemed to bore through Marvin’s soul. It would have been a mistake to flirt. He could see Gretchen climbing over the desk that separated them, skirt and all. He shook the thought from his mind.
Several minutes went by before Gretchen called Marvin to her desk. “Mr. Coleman will see you now. Go down the hall to the elevators, which will be on your right. Take the elevator to the twenty-ninth floor. When you exit, make a sharp left turn, and Mr. Coleman’s office will be right there.”
“Thank you, Gretchen,” Marvin said with a smile. “I know how to get there.” She smiled back and Marvin was on his way.
The ride up was not as impressive a view as it had been the first time he had come to Lancaster, Bosche, and Coleman at Law. The urgency of the matter that brought him there was at the forefront of his thoughts. He exited the elevator and approached Cecil’s door that stood ajar.
Hesitantly, Marvin pushed the door open. Cecil Coleman’s back was to him, giving instructions to someone Marvin didn’t see. Marvin looked around and finally noticed the door that sat on the other side of the conference table.
“Hey, buddy,” Cecil said, getting up from his chair to give Marvin a handshake. “Last-minute instructions to my secretary,” he said, as if he could read Marvin’s mind.
“I was wondering if you had a secretary. Didn’t see a little cutie like the receptionist downstairs. She’s flirted with me each time I’ve come.”
“Who, Gretchen?”
“Yeah. Last week she had on those ugly glasses and her blonde hair was all over the place. Today, she looks totally different—almost as if she was expecting someone.”
Cecil laughed. “It might have been you, partner. Anyway, I do have a secretary who shares an office with two others in the next room. Richard Bosche’s office is on the other side. But let’s talk about you.”
“I want to save Thomas and Richmond Tecktronics. That’s why I’m here. I’ve got to know that you’re going to fight for us...and we’re going to win.”
“Have you shared this with Richmond? It would be a catastrophe to have this blow up in your face and you haven’t let your partner in on what’s going on.”
“I plan to do it this weekend. I’m hoping you will have something concrete to tell me so that when I tell Kenny, I can assure him that our lives won’t be interrupted and this was but a minor annoyance that’s about to go away.”
“It’s not going away, Marvin. I’ve spoken with the bidders who want to make a tender offer on the downlow for your stake in the company.” Cecil eyed Marvin, who sat with his head bent down and rolling his thumbs. “You do understand what that means?”
“I’m a businessman.” Marvin looked up into Cecil’s face. “They want to buy my fifty-two shares—my voting rights.”
“Yes, and they are prepared to make it a hostile takeover if you don’t acquiesce. These guys have long money, and I’m afraid you won’t stand a chance.”
“What about a leveraged buyout?” Marvin said frantically. “I’m in debt, and don’t have the money to fight these guys.”
“Who are you going to get within the company to tender the offer? Richmond, the partner you’re getting ready to blindside with this horrific information? I say he’s your best bet and the only way to possibly beat the hostile bidders to the punch, but I doubt that Kenny Richmond will have the capital himself since you say the company is in a financial stew.”
“Hell, I’ve got to tell him. I’ve got to tell him tonight, tomorrow. I don’t know if I can do it, though.”
“Marvin, you don’t have any time to waste. These people want an answer by tomorrow. After that, it could get very ugly. You don’t have much of a choice in the matter.
“Whether you sell or they fight you for control of the company, they will have voting control, and with that they can complete the merger to gain the company’s assets. Richmond will stand to lose out, too.”
Marvin rubbed his head with his hand and stood up. He looked up at Cecil thoughtfully, then rubbed his moustache. Marvin continued to stand as if his shoes were cemented in place, stuck his forefinger out like he was going to say something, then changed his mind. Hot air blew from Marvin’s lips. “I’ll get back with you.”
“Make it soon. Real soon. Sorry I couldn’t be of any more assistance, but in light of your financial situation, there’s not a lot I can do.”
“You’ll get paid.”
“Come on, Marvin. I’m not talking about me. Look, I’ll take this as pro-bono work because I’ve not done much but make contact with the bidders and listened to both sides.”
“I can pay my way, Cecil. Send me the bill. I’ll give you my answer by tomorrow morning.”
Without a good-bye, Marvin hurried from Cecil’s office. Inside the elevator, Marvin banged his fists on the steel doors. “No one’s taking my company from me, not even Kenny Richmond. No one.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Marvin rushed to his Lexus and barreled out of the parking garage. He drove blindly through the streets of Atlanta in search of a place to massage his throbbing head. It had been several years since he had a drink, which was by choice and not because he couldn’t hold his liquor, but he felt it was the right thing to do since he was re-orchestrating his life so that it would be in line with his spirituality. All things had a time and a place, and now was the time he needed to console himself with the spirits—the liquid kind.
Racing through a yellow light, Marvin slowed down and pulled into a vacant parking space. He sat a moment, gathering the thoughts that seemed to cloud his senses. No one could touch him in the bowels of downtown Atlanta. Everyone here had their own agenda and private thoughts, although his were a recipe for disaster. After a minute, he opened the car door and ambled toward the nearest bar.
Small amounts of sunlight filtered in the bar, but not enough to illuminate the corner Marvin chose to sit in. He hopped onto a bar stool and nodded to the bartender. “Jack and Seven,” Marvin said.
“Coming right up, partner,” the bartender said.
The bartender moved away from the counter and pulled a bottle of Jack Daniel’s from the shelf. Rows of gin, scotch, and whiskey in every brand and label littered the wall. After mixing the drink, he handed it to Marvin and slapped him on the arm.
Bottoms up. Marvin sent the liquid racing down his throat and let out a throaty catcall as it burned on its way to the bottom. He licked his lips, then placed the near empty glass to his mouth again, allowing the residue to drip to his tongue. He lowered the glass. “Another,” he said, waving his gl
ass at the bartender.
At the end of the third round, the bartender refused to serve Marvin another drink. Marvin begged with his eyes, convinced that he couldn’t go on without the help of Jack Daniel’s. A long-legged sister dressed in a red, just-above-the knee knit dress topped off with a short, black jacket with a large button holding it closed eased up onto the bar stool beside him, her chocolate-coated skin reminding him a lot of Rachel. She sported a close-cropped Afro that defined her face.
“Hey, sweetie,” the chocolate diva said to Marvin. “How about a drink?”
“For you or for me?” Marvin laughed.
“For me, silly.” The lady tapped Marvin’s arm. “You are too cute. Married I see, but that don’t mean a thing. What’s your name?”
“Marvin,” he slurred. He took another look at the woman sitting next to him, admiring her long, shapely legs that ran down to the four-inch, black, patent-leather stilettos that graced her feet. Thoroughbred, he thought to himself.
“Okay, Marvin. Don’t look as if you can hold your liquor. You don’t mind if I have a Scotch on the rocks, do you?”
“Have whatever you like,” Marvin said, his head swaying from side to side in slow motion as he tried to keep the chocolate diva in his blurred vision.
“Well, thank you, Marvin. That’s mighty kind of you.”
“My pleasure, Miz...ah...”
“My name is Peaches, and this is my seat on Thursdays and any other day I choose to come in here. Right, Earl?”
The bartender nodded in agreement.
“So what are you drowning your sorrows about?” Peaches asked.
It came out so quickly, as if he had rehearsed it over and over again just for this moment. “They’re trying to take my company away from me.”
“Who’s trying to take away your company?” Peaches wanted to know.
“They are...I don’t know their names. They want my fifty-two shares, and I’m not going to give it to them. They’ll have to kill me first—over my dead body.”
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