Even murder for me.
His name was Sammy "Hitman" Russtrip. I wondered what he was up to …
"That doesn't mean Eliyah has watchers too," Sundi said.
"Why wouldn't he?"
Before she could reply, I went to the kitchen window blinds and pulled a few plastic slats down to peek outside. The first car I saw that rubbed me wrong was parked against the curb, idling. It was a silver Yukon Denali with tinted windows.
"Where are you going?" Sundi asked as I stormed out the kitchen.
I went outside and started walking fast toward the idling Yukon. I put my hands in my slacks pockets, pretending I was on a casual stroll, as my right hand fingered my pocket knife. As soon as I stepped onto the pavement of Willow Street about to cross to the idling Yukon, I heard the huge SUV shift into gear.
Craaank.
I halted, then watched it vroom forward and off down the street.
There was no doubt in my mind now. He's watching me.
He's tracking me.
"What the hell were you about to do to that car?" Sundi asked me when I came back in the house.
I closed the front door and locked it. "Whatever would’ve needed to be done."
"La'Renz, you're paranoid!"
"Think so? Well why did that car take off like that?"
"Like what? It just pulled off and left like any other vehicle in the world does."
"No. Whoever was in that Yukon was watching us. How many Yukon Denalis with tinted windows do you know that idle in Brooklyn Heights?"
"Cars idle all the time in this neighborhood."
"Bullshit. Eliyah is on to us. That's why you were fired. Thomas is in on it too. That muthafucking traitor."
"Thomas is still one of us, at heart. I know it. He said he was gonna work on getting my job back. He's gonna call me within a week."
"That call is never gonna come. You're still naive, Sundi. People you grow with change all the time. They betray you and disappoint you. It's a part of life."
Suddenly, Sundi's phone went off. We both heard it ringing in her purse. She grabbed it, then gave me a “told you so” wink before answering it.
"Hello?" she asked while staring at me.
I could tell by her eyes that she was talking to Thomas Dyer. And when she smiled, for some reason my heartrate started picking up. Good news, maybe?
Thomas is coming to work for me again, I thought with hope.
Sundi covered the mouth of her phone with her hand, then whispered to me, "Thomas said Eliyah wants to have a meeting with me, in person at his mansion."
I wasn't expecting that. "About what?" I asked, skeptical.
"About getting my job back," she said as if it were obvious. "What do you want me to tell Thomas? Should I go?"
My gut-feeling said no. But if there was any chance to pull wool over Eliyah's eyes, then this could be it. Sundi could convince him that she wasn’t working for me; I knew that was what this meeting was about. Eliyah was like me in that sense—he'd want to stare his enemy in the face and make her confess.
Sundi just had to be careful.
"Tell him you're going," I decided.
Chapter 5
Sundi Ashworth
Brooklyn, New York
I lifted the metal hinge on the large oak door of Eliyah Golomb’s mid-1800s brownstone and used it to knock three times; it reverberated inside—boom, boom, boom. A moment later the door opened.
"Who are you?" said an elderly Latina in an Adidas tracksuit that fit loose and wrinkly on her thin frame. "Are you lost?"
"No, I'm at the right place. My name's Sundi Ashworth and I'm here to see Mr. Eliyah Golomb," I said. "He told me to meet him here. I work for him."
Well, I used to work for him.
The old woman inspected me with her dark eyes, as if she'd heard bad things about me. I didn't know if she was a maid, the host, or some other type of help. I had ruled out kinship because of her deep Spanish accent. "Come in, Ms. Ashworth. He's expecting you."
She led me into the mansion at a pace that was surprisingly hard to keep up with—it was annoying listening to her fleece track pants swish together as she walked ahead of me so I was glad when we reached the sunlit parlor; it had flawless cream carpeting and large windows. I was a little nervous stepping onto the carpet, not sure if the soles of my Giuseppe heels had tracked in dirt, so I took them off before I had a seat. I set them in my lap.
The maid—or whoever she was—looked at me judgingly, and it made me think my skirt was too short or I didn't have approval to remove my shoes. Then she brought a walkie-talkie to her lips and clicked the talk button. The device chirped.
"Come in, Eliyah."
A short pause, then Eliyah's stately voice came through: "Yes, Rose?"
"Ms. Ashworth is here." She said my name with bitterness. "Do you want me to send her up or make her wait? Over."
"I'll be down in just a sec."
"Copy. Should I keep an eye on her? Over."
"No, Rose. Please finish attending to your duties. She's fine. She won't steal anything." Eliyah chuckled, but it came out as heavy radio static.
"10-4. Over and out." Rose turned it off, then fixed me with a glare. Crow's feet pinched the corners of her eyes. "Make yourself at home, Ms. Ashworth. Mr. Golomb will be with you shortly."
Like I didn't just hear him say that ...
Immediately after Rose left me alone I had a sudden foreboding feeling of guilt. It was the same feeling I used to get in middle school when I had to wait my turn to see the principal. I had always managed to talk my way out of after-school detention, but I was less confident here in this mansion as I mentally prepared to convince Eliyah to give me my job back.
Then I received a timely text from La'Renz.
La'Renz Taylor: Don't let him intimidate you. Eliyah is a weak man that tries to come across as a threat. Remind him that he needs you, not the other way around.
I quickly sent him a text back that said I'll call you when I leave, then I silenced my phone so there'd be no interruptions when Eliyah finally came down to talk to me.
I looked around the parlor admiringly and then outward, beyond the second wood-burning fireplace where all of this lavish architecture formed a V in the center of the home. Past that, this 5-story mansion split into two hallways that led to other luxurious corners—like a grand formal dining room and upstairs to more posh rooms you could get lost in.
And I wasn't just guessing about the rooms. I had been all over this mansion years ago. It used to belong to La'Renz. But Eliyah bought it at a foreclosure auction after La'Renz went to prison.
"And there she is."
Eliyah caught me by surprise. I turned and looked up. I had been so busy looking forward that I had forgotten there was a balcony above me. How long had Eliyah been watching me? Was he able to read the text La'Renz sent me from there?
I stood up. "How are you, sir?"
"Don't call me sir, Sundi. We have history."
"Well what am I supposed to call you? I can't call you boss anymore."
I got right to it like La'Renz had wanted me to. No beating around the bush. And it seemed as if Eliyah wasn't ready for my frank approach. His face went bland; he was just holding the railing and staring at me like he had expected me to come here and be happy that I was even invited.
I'm not a fawning type of girl, and you know that, Mr. Golomb.
Eliyah was a boldly handsome man. His suit was finely tailored, fitting his lithe frame perfectly. His hair was short, thick and blonde, and looked brushed through with gel—a rather casual look for a multi-millionaire, but it made him seem humble (except that I knew otherwise). In an issue of Music Swag Weekly he was voted Man of the Year, which was the first title given to a man of Jewish decent since the urban magazine started commending industry achievements.
"Do you remember where the conference room is?" he asked me, his tone professional now.
"I do," I answered.
"I'll meet you there."<
br />
When I got to the conference room he was already sitting—but he was seated on top of the table and swinging his legs like a kid.
"Where do I sit?" I asked.
He patted the hand-carved wood next to him. "Right here. Right next to me."
"This is an informal meeting?"
"I never said this was a meeting at all."
I set my purse and shoes in a chair, then scooched my butt on top of the table with him. It felt almost natural to start swinging my legs too but I didn't because he'd probably get the idea that I was here as an old friend—two buddies at the pier chatting it up with our feet in the water—but I wasn't. I was a fired employee who was here to figure out why.
"You look agitated," he said.
"I am."
"Why? Because I let you go?"
I stared at him tight-lipped, trying to keep from cursing. I replied in a polite voice, "Yes, because you fired me, Eliyah."
"Well how did you think I felt when I found out you're working for La'Renz Taylor?"
I hesitated, but not long. "I'm not working for La'Renz Taylor," I said straight-faced.
"My sources tell me otherwise."
"What sources?"
"They've seen you together."
"You have people watching me?" I said indignantly.
"No. I have people watching La'Renz. And you happened to be in close proximity to him. Very close proximity."
La'Renz was right! I screamed in my head. And I didn't know where to go from here. I didn't know how much evidence he had.
"I had to fire you, Sundi. It's a conflict of interest. And even more than that I'm hurt to my heart that you would throw away the opportunity I gave you. I took you in when no one else would."
"I'm not working for him. I'm just ... helping him out."
"In what way?"
"He just got out of prison. He has nothing, no money."
"La'Renz still has millionaire friends in this industry that owes him. I've heard he's been collecting money since he got out. If he told you he didn't have money then he lied to you. Is he living with you?"
I was certain that Eliyah already knew the answer to this question.
"Temporarily," I said.
"I hate to hear that. You moved a crackhead into your home. And you promised me you would never go back to him."
I remembered that promise. I uttered it when me and Eliyah were well into our relationship, long after La'Renz had been sent to prison. Eliyah and I dated for almost two years and managed to keep our relationship out of the media's eye. It was soon after he hired me when we started dating, and not until after a year and a half of courting did I give myself to him sexually.
That's when things went downhill. It got to a point where I felt like all I did was put his penis in my mouth on-call; he was too tired or too busy to lay with me. It started to feel like a job. Then I started seeing in him qualities I'd hated in La'Renz—like the fact that he thought he owned me. Sometimes I even thought Eliyah was deliberately trying to act like La'Renz, either because that's what he thought I wanted or because that's who he was turning into.
We managed to break it off cordially and he never fired me. Until now.
I looked at him hard and said adamantly, "I'm not with La'Renz."
"Okay. Did you tell him that we used to talk?" Eliyah inquired.
You must think I'm crazy. He'd kill me if he found that out.
"It's none of his business," I said.
"I don't want to see you go down the same path as before. He's gonna pull you down with him this time. You're better than that. You have so much to lose."
"Like my job, for instance?"
He sighed. "Do you want your job back?"
"Yes."
"Then get rid of La'Renz. The day you get him out of your house is the day you're re-hired. But I can't have you working for me, with him in your home. He'll be a bad influence on you, which would ultimately affect my company."
There had to be some rule or law against firing somebody because of what they did in their personal life, but I'd be naive to think this type of treatment didn't happen to people all the time. I looked over at my purse, wanting to call La'Renz and tell him that we didn't need me working inside Mount Eliyah … but I knew that wasn't true, that I was just tired of sitting here kissing his ass. In all actuality I could really get a lot of industry info from the inside that could really help Taylor Music Group stay ahead of the curve.
Eliyah's hand suddenly grabbed my chin and jerked it back toward him so he could look me in the eyes.
"Are you sleeping with him again?" he asked firmly.
"No," I lied.
"Sundi, where did we go wrong?"
"I don't think anything went wrong. Our relationship just ran its course."
"I know I mistreated you a little bit, but I know it wasn't anything as bad as La'Renz."
"Eliyah, I need to go. I have some thinking to do."
"Do you hate me?"
"I'm not in the hate business."
"I still love you."
This made me angry. I felt like Eliyah was only trying to win me back because La'Renz was in my life again. I started to question if Eliyah had ever cared about me at all, or if I was just another notch under his belt.
"I have to go," I told him.
Eliyah's hand tried to find its way around my waist as I hopped down off the table. But it fell away as I distanced myself to grab my purse and heels. His needy fingertips just barely grazed my backside, and I hated to admit that it was actually a nice sensation.
Pulling my purse strap on my shoulder, I headed for the nearest exit.
"Sundi," he called.
I turned. "Yes, Eliyah?"
"Get that crackhead out of your house," he said with a familiar selfishness, then pushed down off the table (it was a push and not a hop because he was a lot taller than me). He reached in his pocket where he found his cigar and lighter. He lit up, and I thought he was about to walk toward me with the smoke but instead he paused in front of his floor-to-ceiling wall of art that pictorialized the military and political leader Napoléon Bonaparte in exile on the island of Saint Helena.
He seemed disappointed with the artistic scene before him, as if the French emperor had let him down.
Then Eliyah turned to me and added, "Because bad things don't just happen to bad people. They happen to the good people who are around them just the same."
Chapter 6
Sundi Ashworth
Brooklyn Heights
"That's not a problem. I'll leave."
"You're gonna give in?"
"It's not giving in, Sundi."
I actually expected La'Renz to say no. He was letting Eliyah dictate where he could and couldn't live and I was just baffled that he was being so nonchalant about it.
It sort of offended me too. Is he tired of living with me already?
"We can be more discreet," I suggested. "You don't have to leave. You can just go out the back whenever we have to go somewhere."
"That won't make a difference. Whoever Eliyah has watching me will know I'm still living here and he won't give you your job back."
"He has to give me my job back. He can't fire me because I have you living with me. I can sue him."
La'Renz let out a crude laugh. "Good luck with that."
He took his button-up shirt off in front of me, then folded it up into a neat, even tuck and set it on a pile with his other dirty clothes that I'd wash for him later. I had told him that he didn't need to fold the dirties, but I assumed he kept doing it because it was one of his lingering prison habits.
He left the room and walked across to the bathroom, where he cut on the shower. When he came back to finish undressing—in which he folded his slacks and undergarments as neatly as his shirt—he continued to make fun of my comment about suing Eliyah, predicting that I'd be lucky to leave the courtroom still owning my own vagina.
I didn't like being belittled, and I nearly made a remark about Eliya
h owning my pussy in the past, but I swallowed the words hard. I silently watched him wrap a bath towel around his waist to cover his privates as he went back to the bathroom; he'd just started using the towel when Kirbie moved in, and even that took some convincing.
I wasn't done speaking with La'Renz yet.
So I undressed and joined him in the shower.
"When are you leaving?" I asked, washing his muscular back with a sponge full of soap suds.
"Tonight," he said.
I nearly dropped the sponge. After a pause to stabilize my anger, I continued to rub and wash. "Why so soon?"
"It'll look good on your part. He'll think you kicked me out immediately and he’ll be less likely to think we're still working together. If we wait, he'll think we're coming up with a plan."
"Do we even have a plan after this?"
"Oh yeah we do."
"Care to share?"
"We get Kirbie acquainted with these new and established artists down south, where Eliyah has less influence."
"I know some people."
"And I'm gonna need your connections."
I squeezed the sponge over his head and let the suds snake down the dips and valleys of his back muscles. "So what hotel are you going to tonight? The same one across from Mount Eliyah ENT?"
"Yes, for tonight."
"And then what? You can't have your new artist living with you in a hotel. Kirbie will start to ask questions. She won't stick around. I can tell she's not the type of young girl you should bullshit around with."
"That's why I'm moving into a mansion in Atlanta."
I was pissed. I smacked him on the back, right there on his shoulder's anterior. With the wetness and the red mark it left, I know it stung. He spun around with the look of the devil. But I wasn't intimidated.
"The fuck you are!" I flared. "You're not leaving me here with Eliyah while you move out of town!"
God Don't Like Haters 3 Page 3