Power, Seduction & Scandal

by Angela Winters

  “I’ll only need one,” Sherise said. “At most.”

  “Well, since you seem to be so full of solutions, what are we going to do about Erica? You got her text?”

  Billie had gotten a frantic text from Erica telling them that Juliet Nolan had called her to disinvite her from the funeral. She was pissed, but didn’t respond when Billie asked her for more information.

  “Just before I called you,” Sherise responded. “I wanted to ask you what you wanted to do. Can’t believe that bitch did that. What a shrew.”

  “Are you really in a position to call a woman whose husband you had an affair with a shrew?”

  “Why the fuck are you mentioning that?” Sherise asked. “It didn’t happen, do you understand me? It just didn’t happen.”

  It did happen, but Billie was okay with pretending it didn’t, considering how angry Sherise suddenly sounded. As a woman whose husband cheated on her, Billie had some very tense moments with Sherise when she’d found out about her affair with Nolan. They made their way through it, but Billie wasn’t aware she wasn’t allowed to mention it at all anymore.

  “Sorry,” Billie quickly offered. “But Juliet isn’t our problem. Erica is.”

  “She wasn’t planning to go anyway,” Sherise said.

  “That’s not the point, Sherise. It’s like a doctor telling a woman who wasn’t planning on having kids that she can’t have kids. It still hurts. Besides, I don’t buy that bullshit about her not caring that he’s dead.”

  “She definitely cares,” Sherise agreed. “She’s just faking it, but I really think we need to let her work it out. Erica isn’t like you and me. She doesn’t want us to help her work it out. She just wants us to listen and let her work it out for herself.”

  Billie moaned. “I guess you’re right. I just get a bad feeling about this.”

  “Let me deal with her,” Sherise said. “You have enough on your plate planning a wedding. How did your coworkers react to the news?”

  “I haven’t told them yet,” Billie said.

  “You are the only bitch I know that doesn’t want to shout her engagement from the rooftops. Especially with that fat ring on your finger.”

  “I wore it in,” Billie said. “But I quickly remembered and I took it off.”

  “Remembered what?”

  “Tara is still here,” Billie said. “I don’t want her finding out that Michael and I are engaged. I’ll wait until her internship is over to tell everyone. I think . . .”

  Billie paused the second she heard a gasp. She had been facing the window, looking out at the busy streets, but swung around to face Tara, standing just inside the doorway to the library. She was less than fifteen feet away, but Billie hadn’t heard her walk in at all.

  “You’re getting married?” she exclaimed, her face a mixture of shock and hurt.

  “Tara.” Billie quickly got up and walked toward her.

  “You wanted to keep it from me?” Tara asked. “Why? Why wouldn’t you want to tell me?”

  “I gotta go,” Billie quickly said into the phone before hanging up. “It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you.”

  “No,” she argued. “I heard you. You don’t want me finding out.”

  “Yet,” Billie said. “Just because . . .”

  “Why would you want to keep it from me? It’s because of Dad. Because you don’t want Dad to know, right?”

  “I just want to do this the right way.”

  “Nothing about this is right.” Tara’s voice was harsh and she looked disgusted. “You can’t marry Michael.”

  “I thought you liked Michael,” Billie said.

  “Yeah, but . . .” She threw her hands helplessly in the air. “What about Dad?”

  “Oh, Tara.” Billie sighed. “We’ve had this discussion. You know that your father and I aren’t getting back together.”

  “I don’t want to hear it!” Tara yelled. “This sucks. You’re keeping secrets again and now you’re gonna marry him. It’ll all be over!”

  “Tara!” Billie called after her.

  Tara turned and ran out of the room in a very dramatic way any teenaged girl would when she finally had to face the fact that her parents weren’t getting back together. When Billie got to the door of the library, Tara was already down the hallway.

  This was going to be ugly. She’d known that Tara might not take it well, but she got along with Michael, so Billie had assumed it wouldn’t be a disaster.

  “Oh shit,” Billie said. “She’s gonna tell Porter.”

  Billie rushed down the hallway in search of her. Dealing with Erica was one thing. Dealing with Porter was another one altogether. If she could find Tara and calm her down, it might save her some time before she had to deal with Porter’s ego.

  Erica had just gotten home from a long day at work. It wasn’t a good day. After getting Juliet’s phone call, Erica went for a long walk, trying to calm herself down. The walk lasted a lot longer than expected and she was late getting back to work. Justin was upset because there was urgent business that had come up. Because of the recent elections, there had been a change in leadership on an essential Senate committee that could greatly impact two of his major clients. Things were frantic and so was Justin when she returned.

  She’d finally been able to get out of there and made her way home. To an empty home for yet another day, and she was fed up with coming home to nothing. She was tired and still angry. All day, no matter what she was doing, all she could think of were Juliet’s cruel words. Those seven words. I have his kids. His real kids. Erica couldn’t even think of how that would have gone if Juliet had said that to her face.

  Now that she was home, she wanted to eat something fried or fatty to make her feel better. But the second she opened the refrigerator door, she knew that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Dammit!” she yelled into the air.

  There was nothing in there but a couple of bottles of water, a jar of pickles, and some orange juice. She had intended to go shopping this past weekend, but the news about Jonah’s death had distracted her from everything. She hadn’t thought to pick something up on the way home because she was just so focused on ending the day. Besides, she had to stop doing carryout. Now that all the bills were hers alone, things were too tight.

  She slammed the refrigerator door to express her anger, but immediately regretted it as she pulled away and the handle came with her. She looked at the handle in her hand in disbelief at first.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” she asked.

  This day couldn’t get worse.

  This place was already a dump and it was falling apart even more. She felt trapped. It was really all she could afford. The neighborhood used to be relatively safe despite the recent break-in attempt. If she went for something cheaper, it would be in a worse neighborhood, and living by herself now, Erica didn’t feel that was an option. She couldn’t afford anything better. Now she had to look forward to having to nag the landlord for weeks before he would do anything, as usual.

  She reached for her phone to order pizza, feeling resentful that she was breaking her rule on spending money. She didn’t give a damn. She was broke and the rent was due, but she was sick of thinking about it. She just wanted to stuff her face with something greasy.

  Before she could dial her first number, the doorbell rang. Her radar went up. Since the attempted break-in, she was anxious whenever she heard an unexpected sound. She reached into the top kitchen drawer and pulled out the biggest knife she could find.

  “Who is it?” she yelled out as she walked toward the door.

  “Ms. Kent,” the person on the other side of the door said.

  She peeked into the peephole to match a face to the man’s voice. She’d never seen him before. He was a young white man with brown hair cut short to his head and dark-rimmed glasses. He had a large nose and thin lips. He had on a tie and what looked like a black suit. He looked like an accountant.

  “Who are you? What do you want?”
>
  He cleared his throat. “My name is Tyler Vincent, Ms. Kent. I need a moment of your time.”

  “I don’t want to buy anything,” she said. “And I already found Jesus, so no thanks.”

  “This is a very important legal issue, Ms. Kent. Something that needs to be discussed in confidence.”

  Looking at him, Erica could see that the man already looked scared to death to be in this neighborhood. He seemed harmless, but she wasn’t stupid.

  “We’re in the middle of dinner right now,” she said.

  Never let a stranger know you’re a woman home alone.

  “It’s regarding Mr. Nolan,” he said. “It’s very urgent. I won’t take up more than a few minutes.”

  That was enough to pique her curiosity. She opened the door just enough to stand in the doorway, but didn’t let the man in.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  He seemed relieved to at least come face-to-face with her. “May I come in, Ms. Kent? It’s very personal.”

  “He’s dead,” Erica said. “How personal can it be? And how do you know my name?”

  He looked to his left and to his right in the empty hallway before leaning forward and whispering, “He’s your father.”

  She groaned and stepped aside to let the man in. She closed the door behind her and turned to face him.

  “You have a few minutes,” she said. “That’s all you said you’d need.”

  “Okay.” He looked around as if waiting to be asked to take a seat, but after a few seconds of nothing, he continued. “As you’ve said, Mr. Nolan has passed away. I’m one of the lawyers in charge of his estate.”

  “He told you about me?”

  “It’s in the instructions attached to his will,” Tyler said.

  He reached into the briefcase he was holding and pulled out a dark folder.

  “I can’t reveal the entire will to you, but . . .”

  “Does he acknowledge Alex Gonzales as his son?” Erica asked.

  Tyler looked even more uncomfortable. “I can’t reveal the entire will to you, but no, he doesn’t mention Mr. Gonzales.”

  “Son of a bitch.” Erica shook her head. “Your client was an asshole, Tyler. You know that.”

  “You might not think that when you hear what I have to say to you.” He offered her the envelope.

  Erica didn’t take it. “What do you want to tell me? And if you tell me this is some restraining order preventing me from showing up at the funeral, be prepared to get your ass thrown out.”

  He cleared his throat. “Well, I guess I can imagine why you weren’t going, but this is not that. What I’m offering is a part of Jonah’s will. The part I’m allowed to share with you.”

  “I don’t want anything from him,” Erica said, finally taking the envelope.

  “Not even one million dollars?” Tyler asked.

  Erica’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. What did he just say? What did she just hear?

  “One what?” she asked.

  “One million dollars,” Tyler repeated with a smile proud enough to make one think that it was his money. “That’s what your father left you, Ms. Kent.”

  “Don’t call him that,” she said quickly.

  He blinked nervously. “Um . . . okay. That’s what Mr. Nolan left you.”

  Erica felt her knees going a little weak, so she made her way to the nearby sofa and sat down. This man was still sending her for a loop from the grave, and he wasn’t even in his grave yet.

  “He was even lying then,” she said.

  “Excuse me?” Tyler asked.

  “He sat here on this sofa and told me he was staying out of my life from now on.” She laughed. “He was lying. He always lies.”

  “Well, I can assure you, Ms. Kent, this will is not a lie. It is a fully executed legal document.”

  It took her a second before she regained her composure and looked at Tyler.

  “This is control, you know. This is his way of pulling the shots, even from the grave.”

  Tyler pointed to the envelope still in Erica’s hand. “There are no stipulations in this will. You can spend this money however you want.”

  “I don’t want anything from him,” she finally said.

  This time it was Tyler’s turn to be speechless.

  “I hated him,” Erica said. “I’m not going to load it on you, but that man . . . You just wouldn’t understand.”

  “It’s not my place to ask,” Tyler stated. “But how could you not want a million dollars?”

  “Alex is just as much his son as I am his daughter,” Erica informed him. “He left him nothing, right?”

  “A person is only obligated to provide for minor children upon death. Once your children are adults, you can choose not to give them anything.”

  “Because he’s an asshole,” she said. “He picks and chooses which kids are worthy of his estate. And let me guess, worthiness depends on how embarrassed he was about you. I’ll bet his two kids with Juliet got ten times more, right?”

  “He’s leaving you more than any of his children,” Tyler said.

  Erica didn’t have any response for that. She was genuinely shocked and Tyler could tell.

  He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have told you that. It just . . . It seemed odd to me. I would have imagined that you were close and that’s why he left you the most.”

  “What was he thinking?” she asked. “What kind of fucking game is he trying to play?”

  “Well,” Tyler walked over to the sofa, looking down at Erica, “that’s the same question his ex-wife and children are asking.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “The family is contesting the will. Actually, they’re contesting just this part of the will.”

  Erica shot up from the sofa, feeling a rush of anger ignite inside her. “What are they saying?”

  She could see that her reaction was making Tyler extremely uncomfortable, but she didn’t care. She was too consumed with what he’d said. It wasn’t about the money. She didn’t give a damn about Jonah’s money. But she gave a big damn about what his bitch wife and spoiled brats were saying about her.

  “They want this part of the will completely struck,” Tyler said. “They don’t think you should get anything.”

  “Why not?” Erica asked, her tone so menacing that Tyler actually took a step back.

  “They haven’t explained exactly,” he answered in a shaky voice. “They’ve hired lawyers and we’re told that we can expect to hear something by the end of the week.”

  “Those bitches!”

  Erica could just imagine them all sitting there. Entitled Juliet with her children, all draped in their privilege, pissed that they weren’t getting every penny. After all, that was real money, and his real money should go to his real children.

  And what sort of people started plotting over the will even before putting the person in the ground? A bunch of greedy bastards, that’s what sort.

  “I’ve changed my mind,” she said. “I can fight this, can’t I?”

  “Of course,” Tyler said. “I am here to advocate for Jonah. My firm will fight to make sure his will is honored as he wished. Once we find out what they want and why, we’ll know what we’re fighting for.”

  “They want me to get nothing because they hate me,” Erica accused. “I’m their dirty little brown secret. I’m the one they blame for their perfect life, that façade of a perfect life, falling apart.”

  Tyler looked around the open apartment as if somewhere he could find the inspiration for a right response, but nothing came to him. He only looked at Erica with a nervous smile and shrugged.

  “Well,” she continued, “I want that damn money and I’m gonna get it.”

  “I’m certain we can—”

  “And when I get it,” she continued, pointing a finger at his face, “I’m gonna shove it down their throats!”

  7

  A silence fell on the room for the second time in the last hour. In the o
ffice where Jerry Northman sat with his top six, formerly five, staff members, everyone was a little uncomfortable. It was the second time Sherise had corrected Maurice’s mistakes on the communications transition strategy. His true incompetence, coupled with his arrogance, was making this so easy.

  Maurice had his fill of her and, even though he was trying his best to conceal it, the rage in his face was evident. His eyes bored into Sherise as she sat casually on the sofa against the wall next to LaKeisha, who seemed to be enjoying this as well.

  Sherise was enjoying it immensely, but she made sure to only look concerned and focused. It was having the added effect. Maurice was looking unfit for his position to the other leaders in the group, and especially to Jerry.

  “Blair, you gotta get this stuff right,” Jerry ordered as he sat behind his desk. He was looking annoyed. “Or else I’ll have to bring more consultants in. I wanted to keep this small.”

  “No need for that,” Maurice said quickly. “I’m on top of this.”

  Sherise sighed loudly, looking down at her tablet, where she was taking notes. When she looked up, Maurice was sending her the evil eye again.

  “Sherise keeps interrupting me,” he said. “Why is she even here? I’m in charge of communications now. She can go.”

  Sherise smiled and looked at Jerry.

  “I asked Sherise to be here,” Jerry said. “She’s here to help you since you’re the newest member of our team.”

  She had kind of forced his hand by voicing her extreme concern. She was there to help Maurice out, which she presented as her offer to get with the program.

  This made Maurice even angrier. Jerry was exclaiming to the entire leadership team that he didn’t have complete faith in Maurice. No one else had their number two person there.

  “Honestly, I don’t need her,” Maurice said.

  “Clearly, you . . .” Sherise began.

  “Look, honey,” Maurice said as he held his hands up.

  There were one or two gasps in the room, LaKeisha being one of them. Sherise just feigned insult to add heat to the fire.

  “Honey?” Jerry asked. “Really, Blair?”