Nothing to Lose

by Angela Winters

“What are you working on?” he asked.

  “I’m just doing the . . .” This time, when she looked up, Jonah was all the way inside the office and he wasn’t alone.

  He was standing beside a tall, lanky African-American man, who looked to be in his late twenties. He was dressed in a black suit, white shirt, and black tie. He had small, soft features for a man and curly, wavy hair, which went out about an inch from his head.

  “I’m working on the fund-raising e-vite.” She smiled at his companion. “Hello.”

  “Hi.” He waved to her awkwardly, staying beside Jonah.

  “Well, it’s time for a break.” Jonah gestured for the young man to step forward, which he promptly did. “I want you to meet someone.”

  Those words put a brick in Erica’s stomach, but she tried her best not to show it for the other guy’s sake.

  “This is Malcolm Sweeney,” Jonah introduced. “He’s a vice president at Foresight Communications.”

  “Hi, Malcolm.” She smiled nicely at the man, who seemed a little young to be a vice president anywhere.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Erica.” His voice was hoarse, like a boy who was going through puberty.

  Erica looked at Jonah, making sure her eyes caught his. She glared at him, but he didn’t even flinch.

  “Malcolm’s father is Phillip Sweeney.” Jonah slapped him on the back like that was quite an accomplishment.

  Malcolm winced as he went forward a bit and tried to cover it up by laughing.

  “Phillip Sweeney is the host of the fund-raiser next week,” Jonah continued.

  “Of course,” Erica said. “That’s why I recognized the name. I’m working on the invitation.”

  It all made sense now. Phillip Sweeney was one of Matthews’s, and now Nolan’s, biggest supporters. He was a rich political consultant and CEO of Foresight Communications.

  “I thought you two should meet,” Jonah said. “Since you’ll be seeing each other at the fund—”

  “I don’t think I’m gonna be going,” Erica said, deciding to give him a hard time. He knew he was breaking the rules, and she wasn’t going to let him get away with it.

  Jonah frowned. “Of course you are. All the staff is coming.”

  “I don’t know.” She leaned back in her chair and began to move from side to side. “I haven’t finalized my weekend yet.”

  “You’re very funny,” Jonah said flatly. “I didn’t mention that to you, did I, Malcolm?”

  “I don’t think so,” he answered nervously. “You said she was ‘nice and pretty.’ I don’t remember ‘funny.’ ”

  “Well, she’s quite a comedienne,” Jonah emphasized. “We’ll let you get back to your work, Erica.”

  “Thank you.” Erica was satisfied that Jonah had gotten the message. She was going to make this difficult, so he had decided to cut it short. “It was nice meeting you, Malcolm.”

  “Nice meeting you as well,” he said, almost with a nod, which confused her. He turned to Jonah. “I guess I’ll get going.”

  “Yeah.” Jonah gestured out of the office. “Someone will show you out.”

  Once Malcolm was gone, Erica returned her attention to the computer, even though she knew Jonah was still standing there.

  “You could have been nicer,” he said.

  “And you could have followed the rules,” she answered back.

  He laughed a little bit, making her look up at him. She could see the look on his face was . . . Yes, it was pride. It made her smile, despite not wanting to. He was clearly pleased by this, and he promptly turned and walked out of the office.

  Erica wasn’t sure what had just happened, but she continued to smile for a little while longer.

  9

  Sherise was pleased with her day, to some extent. Even though the earlier meeting with Jonathan had upset her, she felt she was able to get enough information from LaKeisha to stop him in his tracks. Now she just had to figure out how to get this to Nolan without letting it come back at her. She had an idea, but she would have to stay later than usual at the office before she could make it happen. She felt a little guilty about it, but sacrifices had to be made.

  When she called Justin to tell him she’d be late and he would have to pick Cady up from day care, he surprisingly gave her no argument. She was taken aback a bit. It had seemed like every discussion related to work these days only ended in an argument.

  “Anything else?” he asked.

  She realized that his acquiescence was just to make this short so he could get her off the phone.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “Am I keeping you from something . . . or someone?”

  There was complete silence on the other end of the phone. He wasn’t going to take her bait; it angered her.

  “I can pick her up today,” Justin said, “but I can’t drop her off tomorrow morning. I have to be on the Hill for the hearing at eight sharp.”

  “Fine,” Sherise answered back, feeling sad about the emptiness of their conversation.

  “If that’s all,” he said, “I have to get back to work.”

  “Is this what we’re reduced to?” she asked. “Scheduling updates? We’re married, Justin.”

  “I just don’t want to fight with you, Sherise. These days, the only way to avoid that is to keep our conversations short.”

  “I’m not happy,” she said. “You’re not happy. We’re supposed to be happy. We’re having another baby, Justin. We got through some really ugly times, but—”

  “Everything will be fine,” he said.

  The lack of conviction in his voice really upset her.

  “It won’t,” she said, feeling herself choking up. “Not if we keep things going this way. We should go back to Dr. Gray. She was helping us communicate. I think we abandoned counseling too early.”

  “You were the one who said we didn’t need it anymore.”

  “I know, and I was wrong. If I make an appointment, will you come with me, baby?”

  “Of course I will,” Justin said.

  She smiled, so grateful he didn’t hesitate in his response. “I know things are hard, but I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  Erica could hear a ruckus outside the office and decided that the daily meeting was done. All the top people were done for the day, which meant everyone could go home. It was a long day and she was eager for it to be over. She was getting her things together just as there was a knock on her door.

  “Come in,” she said.

  When Alex stuck his head in, Erica smiled and waved him in farther.

  “Hey, stranger,” he said as he entered, leaving her office door open.

  “I know, right?” She got up and walked around her desk, stuffing her purse inside the large bag she carried with her everywhere. “Long time, no see. You’re very important here, so I can’t expect to have you all to myself.”

  “It’s weird,” he said, reaching for her jacket off the door hook. “We hang out so much now, I was starting to miss you. I’ve texted you more today than anyone else.”

  “You’re such a stalker,” she teased, reaching out for her jacket.

  “No, I’ll put it on,” he said. “We’ll be having lunch tomorrow, right?”

  “Sure.” Erica turned around and placed her arms out. “But it has to be better than a sandwich this time. I want a hot meal out of you.”

  “Well, you’re paying, so I’m good either way.”

  They both laughed as he placed her jacket on. After he was finished, she turned around to face him with the intent of thanking him. But as their eyes met—their bodies still close—both of them stopped laughing. Erica felt a little twitter in her belly; things were suddenly, intensely serious—and, at least for Erica, a little frightening.

  She wasn’t sure how long this lasted, but Jonah appearing in the doorway, and loudly clearing his throat, certainly put an end to it. They both jumped a little and separated, turning to face him. He didn’t look angry, just very annoyed.

 
“Alex,” he said in almost a scolding, fatherly tone. “I think Linda Fletcher is looking for you. You should go find her before she leaves.”

  “Um.” Alex stepped forward, then looked back at Erica as if he felt he should say something, but then he decided against it. He just waved to her and added, “Okay.”

  “Really?” was what Jonah asked Erica after Alex had gone.

  “What?” She reached for her bag, trying to ignore what she’d just been feeling.

  “Is there something going on between you two?”

  “Nope.” She leaned against the door, looking uninvolved and uninterested in this conversation. She just wanted him to go away so she could process what had just happened.

  “Because it’s not a good idea,” Jonah said. “You work together here. Campaigns can get emotional enough, Erica. No need to add sex to the mix.”

  “Yes,” Erica agreed, offering the most sarcastic tone she could manage. “That would be an inappropriate sexual relationship. Thank you for your wise advice on the topic.”

  Jonah stepped farther into the office and stared her down. “You know, Erica, I’m not proud of all the mistakes I’ve made, but—”

  “So you are proud of some of them?” she asked.

  “I’m still your father.”

  She swallowed hard, unable to hide that he made her nervous when he got that serious look on his face that radiated, Don’t fuck with me.

  “There’s nothing going on,” she said. “We’re just friends. Mind your own business.”

  With that, she pushed past him and went out of the office.

  “Damn!” was all Billie could say when her doorbell rang.

  She looked up at the kitchen clock and knew it was all her fault. It was 7:20 P.M. Michael wasn’t early at all. She was running late. Not a good impression when inviting a man to your home for dinner for the first time.

  Tonight was supposed to be perfect. She had planned to leave work early. Well, she was going to leave at five, which wasn’t technically early. She needed the time to prepare for dinner at seven-thirty. She was making a romaine and artichoke salad, with fennel and saffron chicken. She was placing the salad in the refrigerator and the chicken still had about fifteen minutes to cook.

  She ripped the apron off her, tossing it in the pantry and shutting the door. She rushed to the mirror that was next to her front door and quickly checked herself, liking what she saw.

  She opened the door—a welcoming, sexy smile on her face, which she had been practicing for the last hour—only to feel life slap her in the face at what she saw.

  “Go!” She pointed. “Just go, Porter! You can’t be here.”

  He ignored her, going right into his tirade. “How dare you try and humiliate me like that today? Who the fuck do you think you are, Billie? Do you have any idea who you’re messing with?”

  “You started it,” Billie said. “I’m not gonna discuss this with you. You have to leave. You’re not welcome at my house anymore.”

  “It’s a fucking apartment and you rent it,” he said.

  “So what?” she said. “It’s the apartment of your client, who you are harassing. How well will that look to your firm when I report you?”

  He looked shocked that she would even consider such a thing. “Billie, I was trying to help you.”

  She laughed out loud. “Bullshit! You were snickering behind your clients’ backs while on a conference call with them. Any lawyer deserves to get called out for that, and you know it.”

  “You did it to humiliate me,” he insisted. “I looked like a fool.”

  “You are a fool, Porter.” She loved the look of astonishment on his face. “Especially if you think you’re going to show me up professionally. Every time you try, I’ll make you pay for it. So it’s in your best interest to stop.”

  He was shaking his head as if amazed at what he was seeing and hearing. “You’ve changed, Billie.”

  “I haven’t changed,” she said confidently. “I’m just fed up. Now I want you to leave and never, ever come back here again.”

  “I’m not done with—”

  “The woman told you to leave.”

  Porter turned to his left and Billie stuck her head out the door to see Michael approach. He was dressed in a gray suit, with a striking red tie, and was carrying a bottle of red wine. He came to within a couple of feet of Porter and was looking into his eyes with a stoic stare.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Porter asked.

  “He’s my date,” Billie said. “So you need to leave.”

  “You heard her,” Michael said.

  Porter held up his hand. “Look, man—”

  “In that case,” Billie said, “I think I’ll just call the police and have you arrested. I’ll press charges for harassment. Tomorrow I’ll call your bosses and then drop a note to the D.C. Bar. Good luck on that promotion meeting coming up in a couple of months.”

  He looked at her with complete disgust. Billie knew that some time ago, that would have upset her, but it didn’t now. She didn’t give a damn. So she smiled at him as he rolled his eyes and turned to walk away. He ignored Michael, who kept a watchful eye on him, as he walked by.

  “Come in, Michael,” Billie said. “I’m sorry you had to see that. He has the worst timing.”

  “That had to be Porter, the ex,” he said as he entered.

  He leaned down to kiss her gently, but Billie didn’t want a gentle kiss. She grabbed him by his tie and pulled him down to her. She pressed her lips hard against his, aggressively and demanding. She claimed his mouth with hers for a long, greedy kiss before letting him go.

  “Wow,” he said, looking genuinely floored and sounding a little breathless. “Where did that come from?”

  “Victory,” she said. “It’s kind of a turn-on. And, yes, that was Porter.”

  “I’m not sure if I’m happy that an interaction with your ex-husband has you turned on.”

  He offered her the bottle of Merlot.

  “No, silly. Putting him in his place is what turns me on.” She took his hand and led him to her dining room. Fortunately, she had already set the table. “You have no idea what that man has put me through. Revenge is sweet.”

  “I hope his visit won’t ruin our evening,” he said. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

  She looked him in the eyes as she felt him squeeze her hand more tightly. If everything went according to plan, this was going to be a monumental night for the two of them.

  “Nothing could ruin this,” she said. “I promise.”

  Everyone was gone and Sherise was almost finished. Sitting outside of LaKeisha’s office, she was nervous as hell, wondering if someone would come back for the phone they forgot and would spot her. She worked fast, getting the information she needed quickly.

  The thing about computers was that many people didn’t turn theirs off at the end of the day, even though they were told to do so. They left them on and waited for them to turn themselves off due to being out of use. But any little use, even the casual swiping of the mouse pad as you walked by, unnoticed, would keep the computer alive for another fifteen minutes.

  Sherise had to do this three times before everyone left prior to being able to actually access the computer. From that point, the cookies that saved and remembered passwords did all of the work for her.

  As she got up from the desk, Sherise froze in place. She swore she heard something down the left hallway. She stayed in place for a few seconds more and heard nothing. She took two steps toward her office before she heard it again.

  “Shit,” she whispered. Someone was definitely there.

  She had to get out. While the office space was carpeted, the walkways were hardwood, so she took off her heels and slowly headed for her office, which was down the other end of the hallway.

  The giggling got louder and then she heard a click. A door was opening. She was in the middle of the hallway. Panicking, Sherise leapt for the bathroom closest to her, the men’s room.
She grabbed the door, so it wouldn’t shut closed. Once inside, she could hear the voices. There was a man and a woman, or a girl. Heels were tapping the walkway.

  Sherise was a mess as she listened to the man and woman walk around the office, stopping occasionally to make out. She didn’t know who it was and didn’t care about office romances. She would be done for, if anyone saw her here tonight.

  She could hear some whispering, but not much. She wondered if either of them would bother to look at the computer she had just left. It was still lit up, while all the others had long since gone dark. Would they be suspicious and come looking for her? How would she explain being in the men’s bathroom?

  She was in the bathroom for almost twenty minutes before all the sounds stopped. She had moved to one of the stalls, just in case someone decided to peek in.

  Her phone vibrated, which made her nervous for a moment. She fumbled to get it out of her pant’s pocket and read it. It was from Justin, telling her to get home quickly. Thinking of Cady, she quietly typed back for an explanation. Justin’s only response was Get home now!!!!!!

  Great, she thought, another problem.

  The last drop fell out of the wine bottle and into Billie’s glass before Michael placed it on the table.

  “I think that’s it,” he said.

  “I have others,” she offered, taking a few more sips.

  After a successful dinner of flirtation and teasing gazes, they made it all the way through the chocolate cream pie, which Billie admitted she didn’t actually make, but rather had picked up from the German bakery three blocks away.

  As far as Billie was concerned, things were going great—although she had a feeling that she’d had a lot more wine than he had. After all, this was her third glass, and it was only one bottle. She hadn’t kept track. She was just enjoying herself too much.

  She’d spent a lot of time talking about work, but Michael shared more of himself with her. He talked about growing up poor in Atlanta and the struggles he had staying out of trouble. He reminded her a lot of herself and the girls, only they’d had each other. Michael was alone in his fight to get out of the projects unscathed. He’d had no friends because he wasn’t “down,” as he phrased it. The more she found out about him, the more she admired him.