by Joan Early
Susan had noticed that Angie Edwards, the collection manager who provided part of the information, was nowhere on the management flowchart. She returned from legal and called out to Price on his next stroll past her door.
“I need several more collection reports. What can you tell me about Angie Edwards?” Not of major concern, but certainly worth noting, was that Angie Edwards was black.
“She hasn’t been here very long.” He fiddled with the buttons on his shirtsleeve. “She replaced Bill Styles when he got a recording contract. He’s a big star now. Ever hear of him?”
She had not, and said so.
“Why are you looking at delinquency reports?” he asked.
She evaded his questions just as he had dodged hers, and added Angie to the mystery she had catalogued in less than a day on the job.
Angie delivered the last of the reports just before five o’clock. Susan thanked her and she started to leave, but turned and stood in the door. With her lower lip firmly clasped between her teeth, she frowned and stared into the hallway.
“Is there a problem, Angie?”
“Yes and no.” She faced Susan. “I was just trying to decide whether to tell you about Cedargrove, or just keep my mouth shut. Like any other company, the politics here can do you in, and I need my job.”
Susan’s interest was piqued. “Did someone ask you not to divulge information about Cedargrove?”
“I wouldn’t put it that way. I just know a little about this situation, and I know a lot about Rev. Willard Cartwright. He’s a powerful man in this community. His father, a minister and civil rights activist, was slowed by a stroke, but both father and son have the respect of city officials and the news media. You just got here, so I’m sure there are things you don’t know.”
“Angie, if you’d rather not talk about this, I’ll understand. If you’d feel better talking away from the office, I’ll arrange that as well.”
After work, she met Angie in the parking garage and followed her to a little restaurant in the Third Ward, not an area where Sealand’s hierarchy was likely to congregate. Taking a back table in the dimly lit room, Susan sat opposite Angie and studied her features.
A pleasant-looking woman with a hearty laugh and a doubtful eye, Angie was no more than thirty-five and under five feet tall. Her round face became animated when she spoke, and the movement of her eyebrows alone conveyed a forceful message. They ordered a cosmopolitan for Susan and a margarita on the rocks for Angie. Susan asked Angie if she wanted anything from the limited selection on the appetizer menu.
“No, thanks; I can’t stay long. I have to pick up my girls.” She sat erect, as if signaling Susan to begin.
“I appreciate your talking to me. I came into this position with a litany of concerns. If my first day is any indication of what’s to come, I think my concerns are well founded. If there is something I should be aware of, please let me know.”
“I just thought you should know the truth, and I knew you wouldn’t get it from Price Bishop. He’s mad because you got that position instead of him. Anyone loyal to him won’t cooperate with you, but that may be fewer people than he thinks. Mr. Deeds is away most of the time, which puts a lot of decisions in Price’s hands, and that makes him dangerous. He isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but his ego could fill the Grand Canyon.”
She moved to the edge of her chair and leaned forward.
“Deeds brought you here, so maybe he’s more insightful than I thought. Truth is, Price is inefficient to a fault, but smart enough to hire people to cover his ignorance.”
She stretched and sipped her drink. “The only loans I see are the delinquencies, and that’s how I overheard Price’s comment about Cedargrove. As you probably know, the delinquency ratio is the main concern in servicing. When Price didn’t know I was listening, he cautioned the loan officers to stop making loans in Cedargrove or Sealand would own a ton of ghetto foreclosures and a sucker’s reputation to boot.”
She flexed her eyebrows. “Servicing is the company’s stepchild. The production staff rarely talks to us, but a few days after Price mouthed off in that meeting, word came down the pike that Price had pulled three files from the underwriters. He told them to take their time getting back to the applicants. The properties on those files were all in Cedargrove. Knowing him the way I do, I’m certain he instructed them to deny as many loans as they could.”
“Can you rely on the person who told you this?”
“Actually, she’s the only person up there that I do trust. I talk to Travis Polk, but only when I need an appraisal for foreclosure. He’s Price’s puppet and was the highest ranking black in this office, maybe in the whole company, until you came along. I was glad when you showed up, and I wanted you to know the truth. That’s the reason I’m here.”
“What can you tell me about Rev. Cartwright?” Her interest was only partly related to business.
“Willie Cartwright is one of the few remaining soldiers, sort of in the vein of Martin Luther King Jr. He gives his time and lends his name to a large number of causes, and I don’t mean just those benefiting blacks—if any of our problems can actually be segregated. He chairs a foundation to send financial help to children in Nicaragua, works with the Anti-Defamation League, and is on the board of many civic groups. He is also on the board of the Houston Grand Opera and heavily involved in promoting the arts here in the city. Anything consequential going on in Houston is bound to have his name on the list of sponsors and supporters.”
Susan was already impressed.
“He’s not one to cross, that’s for sure. If there’s something fishy going on in Cedargrove, he’ll find it and make those responsible look like dirt. He has done it many times before, and to people with a lot more weight than Sealand’s production staff.”
“I’m grateful that you decided to talk to me. I’ve already sampled Price’s venom, and I’ve notified legal of the Cedargrove situation.”
“I’d hate to see you leave, and I’m not the only one. Just keep in mind that Willie Cartwright and those people from Cedargrove are not to be taken lightly. I’ve seen him destroy some pretty powerful people.” She shook her head admiringly and smiled. “And he does it with such finesse.”
That part was not hard for Susan to believe. She was still trying to recover from his crushing invasion. “How long have you been with Sealand?”
“Four years. The collection department is usually a stepping-stone to upper management, unless that’s where they choose to stick you.” She smiled. “I got stuck. I started as a collector, went on to collection supervisor, and then on to collection manager. That’s it for me, but I don’t mind. The salary is good and I’m getting great experience. I probably make more than any collection manager in the city. I also maintain a low delinquency ratio and have excellent rapport with every entity that does business with Sealand.”
She sipped her margarita and then made an unexpected offer. “I don’t often get involved in things like this, but I’m willing to make an exception. If you need my help to fight this, I’ll be happy to pitch in.”
Susan outlined her immediate plan, but Angie disagreed with it.
“Price is not going to incriminate himself by allowing his people to state the real reasons for those rejections.”
“I’m not planning to rely on their information. I’ll ask for their assistance, but I know they won’t tell the truth. I’m going to re-underwrite the loans myself. Given the insistent nature of this problem, I don’t know if I’ll have time to finish before I have to provide answers to Cartwright and his people, but I’ll do enough to prove my point.”
“That will do for now, but sooner or later you’ll have to account for every one of those loans. They only mentioned the recent ones, but this has been going on for a long time. If you fail to flag just one, that’ll be the one they throw in your face. You have to review every file, and you will. I’ll help.”
“I wasn’t aware that you—”
“That I
could underwrite?” Angie interrupted. “I handle commercial as well as residential delinquencies. I have to determine if the debts were properly underwritten in the first place and went bad, or if they never should have been approved. I can underwrite better than most of those people upstairs, and I have a decided advantage.” She twisted her mouth to the side. “Nobody knows I can underwrite.”
They both laughed.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Angie added, “I’m not a disgruntled employee. I like what I do, and if my last salary increase is any indication, I must do it well. Mr. Deeds was impressed that I’ve reduced the ratio from the second highest in the region to the second lowest. It would be the lowest if we didn’t have areas like Cedargrove, and believe me, that’s not the only area with a high foreclosure rate. I’m good, and I’m industry respected. That’s all that matters. Titles don’t pay the rent.”
They talked much longer than expected. Angie left after repeating her offer to help, and giving Susan directions back to her apartment. This time, Susan felt she really had made a friend.
* * *
The middle child and only daughter of Ralph and Tammy Cross collapsed on the mouse-gray sofa and idly drew patterns in the moisture on her martini glass. Then she felt a need to call home, dialed the phone, and waited. Her mother’s voice had always been a soothing lullaby, and tonight was no exception.
“As first days go, Mom, this was a baptism by fire.” She relayed her suspicions. “I understood the situations surrounding my previous promotions, but this one is different. I would be crazy not to stop and wonder. There were four people that I’m aware of, including the one here, all male and all white, with more tenure. I know I’m good and I’m dedicated, but it’s quite possible that Sealand needed a black face to extinguish the flames over this Cedargrove mess, especially if they knew about Price Bishop’s fishy role.”
“So you think this group is going to continue making trouble for the company?” her mother asked.
“Yes, I do.” Frustration singed her heart when she thought of Willard Cartwright’s handsome face. She wanted to tell her parents about the fascinating minister and the way he had made her feel, but instead she focused on Deacon Jones’s prickly disposition.
“I know how hard some people have worked for equal rights, but you should have heard the way this man came at me. He’s very old. His little face was shriveled like a peach pit, and I really felt his pain, but I’m not the enemy. I wanted to tell them that I’ve worked hard, made sacrifices, and refused to settle for mediocrity. I may not have gotten this position simply on merit, but I am qualified to handle it.”
Her father joined in. “You earned this position, honey. Don’t let anyone make you feel differently. You’ve always been far ahead of the crowd. You made good grades in school, but you read and studied out of school. While your friends were still wading through Judy Blume, you were devouring Tolstoy. You asked for books, not toys, when we went to the shopping center.”
“And I have you to thank for that, Daddy.” The man with the iron fist also had the voice of an angel. She began to feel better.
“And this beautiful woman standing next to me gave you strength and courage. You’ve always been self-assured, sensible, and confident. If this is a setup, I know you’ll handle the situation with your usual proficiency.”
“Your father is right,” Tammy declared. “Remember, honey, for hundreds of years, skin color has barred us from the corporate boardrooms of this country. If that is what got you into this one, you should use it to your advantage. Don’t let anyone make you feel out of place.”
Not wanting to give her parents further cause to worry, she changed both the subject and her tone. “You guys should see this apartment. The name Executive Quarters says it all. The living room is spacious enough to throw a party. The kitchen is small but functional. There’s a breakfast bar with four stools, a dining room, and a half bath with a laundry room in back, all on the first floor. My bedroom, bath, and a small sitting room are on the second floor. And there’s a really nice balcony.”
Keeping it light, she described the ostrich and leather boots she had purchased in a whimsical salute to Texas. And then she told them about the furry little companion lying next to her.
“I went to the Galleria to shop for lightweight suits and this beautiful Himalayan just jumped out of that pet store window and into my heart. I named him Dino and spent a small fortune on gourmet pet food and cat toys.”
After promising she would thread carefully through the confusion at Sealand, she stretched out on the sofa and let her mind drift back to Stanford and the marriage she had thought would last forever. She missed having his arms around her and touching him during the night. She needed the assurance and comfort he brought to her life before their marriage soured.
She shook off the ghosts of regret, checked the time and called Barbara. “I’ve got a question for you. Do you believe in love at first sight?”
She told Barbara about Willie Cartwright. Her friend’s advice was to take it slow.
“You’re in unfamiliar surroundings and maybe you’re just a little lonely. He sounds divine, but don’t move too quickly.”
“I’m not about to jump into anything with this man. It’s just that I’ve never felt this way before, especially for someone I don’t know. It’s a little frightening.”
After her call to Barbara, she polished off the container of leftover Chinese food, snuggled up next to Dino, and fell asleep.
* * *
“I’m sure I’m right,” Willard Cartwright Jr. insisted. “We sent people over there last month just to see what would happen, and the only one approved was the one who applied for a government-insured loan. The other two, one being Dr. Carroll, were denied. Miss Cross is new to this office and may not have been aware of it, but she is now.”
He pulled his chair next to where his father sat on the sofa. He hesitated long enough to remember her toast-brown skin and chestnut brown hair that curved along high cheekbones and feathered around her shoulders. Speaking softly, he continued: “The other thing is…she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“So you think she’s a decoy?” his father asked.
“Could be. She was just transferred to this office, so they may be using her to front their defense, or as a scapegoat. For her sake, I hope that’s not the case.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time some poor unsuspecting woman was sent to squelch these situations. If that is the case, they’ll probably keep her around until things cool off and then she’s history. Make sure you keep in touch with her, because if that happens something should be done. Did she seem knowledgeable?”
“Her capability was very obvious. A great body filled with passionate spirit.” His voice drifted and his eyes were almost closed. His heart had leaped when he saw her standing there. By the time the discussion ended, her anger and his frustration had only increased his attraction to her. He imagined his fingers skimming her face and felt rippling heat through his body. Still daydreaming, he imagined her almond-shaped eyes locking on his with the same intensity they had when he had first walked into her office. Her strong female essence came back with staggering clarity. Will knew that if he never saw Susan Cross again, the face that was seductive even in anger would always be with him.
“She’s very beautiful. And mean as a wet cat.”
“Doesn’t exactly fit the profile. Is this woman someone you might like to date?”
“Why do you ask that?”
Rev. Cartwright Sr. leaned on his son’s shoulder and moved to the wheelchair. “I love my children equally, but I know you best of all. The look on your face when you talk about this woman is one I haven’t seen in a very long time.”
When Will did not answer, Rev. Cartwright reached over and patted his knee. “You’ve made me proud, son. I didn’t expect you to follow in my footsteps, but I’m happy you did. I know your personal life has been filled with turmoil, and I pray that will change. Lo
sing Trey was devastating. Losing Trey’s mother was a blessing in disguise, but I’m sure it hurt.”
“I’m okay with it, Dad. I’ll always love my son.” He smiled. “And I want another one more than anything. When the right woman comes along, I know that will happen.”
“Then you’d better get cracking, Willie Joe. Your mother and I married before construction began on the original Cedargrove Baptist building. The congregation was small and the responsibilities were few, but it was still a handful. You made your accounting firm profitable before you were thirty, and then you inherited a monster of a congregation when I suffered this stroke. The congregation wanted you. My heart swells each time I see you in the pulpit, but you have to think of your personal life. You could have any number of beautiful women, but a goodly number of them would have dollar signs in their eyes. Culling out the worthy ones takes time. If you think this woman at Sealand is so special, don’t you dare let her get away.”
Will helped his father prepare for bed, and assured him that he was coping with the trials of the ministry and with his private life. He drove two blocks to the house that had been home to his wife and son. He called out to the big yellow lab that came bounding around to meet him. Each time he opened the door and walked into the hallway, the terror rushed out to greet him. Time had only slightly diminished the horror of finding his son’s tiny body tangled, lifeless, in the sheet, and finding Tracey, still dressed in party clothes and smelling of booze, snoring on the couch.
Passing the blame had been her defense. He had agreed to stay home with the baby while she attended a bridal shower for her younger sister. When the call came that a member of Cedargrove’s choir had been involved in a fatal accident, he mumbled his regrets and rushed to the hospital. The venom in her voice when he called two hours later was harsher than ever before. She screamed accusations of disinterest and neglect before informing him that she would attend the shower even if she had to take the baby with her. He promised to come home as quickly as possible, but knew there was no way to swiftly console a grieving family. She screamed that his family always came last and she would not wait for his arrival.