“Gracias. See, I know what it was…” He dusted Saint off then removed the black robe. “You have a different kind of hair and people mess it up, right?”
Saint smiled and nodded. “Yup. My sons are the same way. Dakarai just got his hair cut and the guy did a decent job, but his hair is a little curlier than mine.”
“Where’d you go? Over on 5th street? That looks like Dugart’s work.”
“Nah, we from L.A., man.”
“L.A.! Why you sound like one of us, man?!”
“My mistake.” Saint laughed. “I’m from the Bronx, moved to L.A. about eight years ago. My wife was out there so I moved to be with her.”
“Oh, okay, yeah ’cause I was like, ain’t no way he sound like this from L.A., man. Now, what about the little man right here?” He pointed to Hassani, smiling wide at him.
“Hassani’s hair, as you can see, is almost just like mine. It’s a little thicker, but the texture is pretty much the same. I’m real careful about whom I send them to and they can’t always be cut by the same people. I learned that lesson the hard way. Black barbers tend to know how to deal with Dakarai better, I guess, because his hair is a little coarser but Hassani just gets messed up by everybody.”
Sleeper burst out laughing. “Well, he won’t today. Hop in the seat, lil’ man.”
Ten minutes later, Hassani’s hair was faded to perfection.
“Damn, I wish I could take you back to L.A. with me!” Saint spun Hassani around in the chair, checking out Sleeper’s handiwork. “You like it?” he asked, knowing his son’s answer already.
“Yes! It looks good. Thank you.” The little boy grinned happily up at Sleeper.
“You’re welcome little man, and since I know you are just in town visiting, I’m going to give you those shirts anyway but you gotta promise that when you come back, you always come here and ask for me.”
“You got it, man.” Saint slapped an ample amount of cash in his hand, causing Sleeper to take a step back.
“Is this—um, did you mean to give me this?” the man asked as he counted and recounted the crisp bills.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Wow…” The man appeared choked up. “You don’t know how much…man…just thanks man.” He gave Saint a pound and a firm, heartfelt one-armed hug.
Saint nodded, not making a big deal about it, and headed over to the T-shirts.
“Boys, pick out only one T-shirt each, please,” Saint warned. His sons walked over, looking through the shirts and fighting over which ones were cooler.
What Sleeper didn’t know, and would never be told, was that when he had put his hands on Saint’s head and touched him the first time, Saint could feel the man’s woes. This was yet another reason Saint didn’t like anyone but his wife touching his hair—he could pick up their emotions and troubles—but he took a chance, and was glad for it. The man had four children and one had a serious medical condition concerning her kidneys that was putting him and his wife in financial devastation. The man smiled and joked all the time, and was great at his craft, but it wasn’t enough to make ends meet and he was hiding a lot of pain. He was called Sleeper not because he was lazy, but as a joke of sorts. The guy never took a break and was always working, hustling, trying to make an extra dollar to take home to his family. Saint made sure that at least for a few weeks, he could breathe a bit easier. He wished he could do more, but he was short on time—and he would damn sure be back.
Saint picked out a T-shirt and they said their final goodbyes.
“Daddy, I wanna ask you something,” Hassani said as he held each boy’s hand while they made their way down the sidewalk toward the subway.
“Yes.”
“Did you use to go to the barber shop with your daddy, too? I liked getting my hair cut with you today.”
“I liked it too, Hassani. Uh, no, I didn’t get my hair cut with my dad. We went to two different shops.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, I’m not really sure but my mother would cut my hair if we didn’t have enough money some weeks, but if we did have enough, she’d send me to this shop that did an okay job. When I got older, I found a place that was able to accommodate me a bit better. You enjoyed getting your hair cut today?” They rounded the corner.
“Yeah and that man did a good job, just like you said. I wish my hair would never grow again and looked like dis all the time!”
Saint laughed and squeezed his hand a bit harder. “I’m glad you like it.”
“Tonight we gotta stay in the hotel with Mommy? When will you be back?” Hassani asked, sorrow in his tone.
“I’ll be back in a few hours, son but when I do, I’ll probably be really tired so Mommy is going to watch you guys, but I’ll be there, okay?”
“Daddy, you can be real with me.”
Saint stopped walking, smiling inwardly. “Okay, Hassani,” he said seriously. “You want to know what’s going on, right?”
Hassani nodded.
“Grandpa is sick, just like I told you. I also told you this was important, but what I didn’t share was that I’m here to try to make him better.”
“I know. I just wanted you tell me. I don’t know why grown-ups do stuff like this. I’m almost grown, too. You can tell me the truth.”
Saint chuckled and started walking again.
“Are you, now?”
“Mmmm hmmm and one day, I’ll have hair on my chest just like you and a big house and call all my homeboys, son.”
Saint burst out laughing, his face warming from the great time he was having with his boys. He noticed Dakarai had become unusually quiet.
He looked down at him; the boy’s eyes were shining like two brand new pennies.
“You okay, Dakarai?” Saint paused.
“Daddy.” He looked up at him. “I know you told me it was bad, but I did it anyways.”
“Did what, Dakarai?”
“Read that man’s mind and I’m sad.”
Saint swallowed. He patted Dakarai’s head. “I know, Son. His daughter is sick.”
“Yeah and you know what else, Daddy?”
“What?”
“He really hope you come back.”
“I bet he does!” Saint burst out laughing. He didn’t mind being the benefactor. Matter of fact, he was supposed to be doing exactly what he’d done back there in the barber shop…
~***~
Clad in a long, pale green robe and matching short nightgown, Xenia leaned up against the bathroom doorway.
“Baby, you really need to get some sleep before you and Jagger go over there.”
“I am, baby.”
“Doesn’t look like it.” She pointed to the laptop sitting on his lap in the hotel bed.
“I’m almost finished. I just can’t believe this.”
“What?”
She walked leisurely over to him and sat on the edge of the bed.
“I’m being called into a meeting with them. Of course, Ned will be there, but this could take hours and they want me to come down there and explain every damn charge, nook and cranny. I can’t believe this shit!” Saint had tried to remain calm, but instead, he shoved the computer off his lap with a hiss.
“Sequestered? This is unbelievable!”
“Someone did this shit, Xenia.” He pointed at her. “I know Sinclair is behind it, but I can’t figure out the other piece just yet.”
“Yes and speaking of all this bullshit, Saint, I cannot for the life of me figure out why you wouldn’t let me at the least fire Shianne! I know we have no proof that she did this, but we both know she did!”
He held his hand up. “Because, we have to play this cool. We can’t have them thinking we have this all figured out. They need to believe we are totally confused, and not putting it all together. It will blow everything.”
“Well, something is up because she quit anyway. I got a text message today.” She handed Saint her phone.
He gripped it and read it. “Well, that was rather cryptic. She kno
ws we can’t prove she did the shit and she doesn’t want to incriminate herself.”
“Yeah, just saying ‘thank you’ to me for all I’d done for her but she was moving on to other opportunities.” Xenia rolled her eyes. “I feel so helpless! The woman tried to kill me, and I can’t do shit about it. I wish I could see her one more time. I’d slap the living shit out of her.”
“You tried. You lied to me telling me you were going to the store when we got back from the hospital. I knew you were on your way over to her place. I had to make you come back to bed. Shame on you, Xenia,” he teased.
“I knew you knew, Saint.” She put her hands on her hips. “I don’t care if she didn’t mean to kill me. Like what Lawrence was trying to tell you the other day, she almost did and if you hadn’t healed me, there is no telling what else would have been going on. I’m glad Jagger scared the shit out of her. Lawrence said they squared her away, whatever that means.”
“Oh trust—” Saint grinned like a happy demon. “She is definitely squared the fuck away.”
“I think I deserve to know! I am the victim right here, you know.”
“I’ll tell you but right now, I better get some shut eye just like you said.” He yawned, lay on his side and closed his eyes, knowing she was staring daggers into him.
“Alright. Well, do you want me to bring you something to drink?”
“Yeah…” He pointed at her crotch. Xenia laughed and turned away.
“Boy, you need to stop. I’ll go see to those children now.” She got up to leave.
“You lucky the kids are out there tearing up the hotel room. I’d make you give it to me!” He snickered.
Xenia shook her ass, making him groan and leap up and down on the bed.
“Ohhhh, baby! Back that ass up! Come on back over here.”
“Nope. I promised the boys I’d play whatever they wanted to and you know Isis is probably being tortured. Dakarai likes to dress her up now.” She grabbed the door and looked back over her shoulder. A stream of light came through along with the sounds of their children running around playing, huffing and laughing. “Saint, I love you. Be careful tonight.”
“I love you too, baby. And I will. And—I know I’ll be tired, but if you can, try to stay up and kiss me goodnight.”
“You got it.” She blew him a kiss and closed the doors behind her…
~***~
Saint tossed and turned. Initially, he felt like he was having a dream where he was stuck in some rapper’s video. Piles and piles of money fell from the sky and every time he tried to catch one single dollar bill, he missed. A woman’s shrill scream blared out like an ambulance siren. White pieces of paper soon joined the dollar bills, twirling and spinning like helicopter blades. Words and numbers were jotted on them, but nothing he could read clearly. Out of the chaos, someone was pulling his arms, trying to help him. The woman kept screaming, and then she screamed his name—“Saint!”
He knew that voice…
Payton!
Saint burst up from the sheets like a monster disturbed from his slumber, grunting and panting. In a cold sweat, he looked around the darkened hotel room in a state of confusion and shock. He clumsily palmed his face; it was balmy to the touch, as if he’d just ran a marathon in ninety-nine degree weather.
“Oh God…” he said breathlessly as he fell back onto the soaked pillow, looking up at the ceiling. After pulling himself together, he reached over, past the hotel alarm clock and mp3 player and picked up his cell phone.
“Lawrence,” he said, swallowing hard. He felt a bit nauseous, but fought the troubling feelings as best he could. “I need you to check into something for me.”
“Are you okay? You don’t sound well.”
“Had a dream… I think I know who Sinclair got to help him with the IRS tax investigation that we are dealing with now.”
“They are leaning toward guilty before even speaking with you.” He sighed. “Tax liens are coming, Saint, if we don’t get to the bottom of this. I believe they will freeze your assets. … Anyway, who?”
“I realize that and though it won’t make sense to you, I believe it is Payton.” Saint took a deep breath, wishing he’d asked for a glass of water when Xenia offered. His throat felt dry. He scratched it, as if that would somehow relieve him. Slowly sliding out of bed, he made his way to the master suite bathroom and closed the door quietly behind him to avoid alerting his wife that he was up and about instead of resting per their agreement. “She was my ex-girlfriend.”
“The attorney from New York?”
“Yes.” Saint leaned over the sink and looked at himself. He was pale as a ghost.
“You never went into much detail about that. You only shared she’d tried to break up your marriage, and when you and I met, you were going through some marital woes because of her.”
“Yes, well, I don’t have time to get into it but she became a bit obsessive about Xenia and I thought I’d made myself clear to her, for her to not try anything else or I’d—”
“I think I can fill in the blanks.”
“And I meant it. I don’t know how it happened, I can’t figure out how these two got together, but I know they are working together to destroy me, Lawrence. Payton has extensive connections with large investment and financial agencies as well as the Internal Revenue Service due to her former position as a corporate attorney in finance. She could easily make something happen like this. Legally, regardless, it would still appear she wouldn’t have a leg to stand on, so she’s definitely pulled some strings. Now look, I need you to look into her, find out what she’s being doing. Her maiden name is Bishop. I don’t know if she legally changed it back from her marital name after her divorce was final or not, but she is from Queens, and lives in New York City now. Uh, let’s see…” He turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on his face. “Do you need any other information?”
“This is a starting point. I will let you know if I have any further questions.”
“Once Jagger and I are finished tonight, I will tell him what’s going on and he can assist you. It is imperative that you don’t tell anyone about this. We can’t let Sinclair know we are aware of him and Payton working together.”
“Of course. I’d never discuss it. I’m on it. I’ll see what I can find and get back in touch with you.”
“Thank you.” Saint disconnected the call and started the shower.
A few moments later as he undressed, he detected the faint scent of Xenia’s perfume.
“What are you doing just standing there?” he asked before he’d actually seen her. She opened the bathroom door and ran her fingers down the wood.
“I thought you’d sleep a little longer.”
Saint stepped into the shower and snatched the clear curtain closed then reached for his bath gel. “Couldn’t sleep soundly so I may as well get ready to go. I think I’ll go over a bit earlier, just in case it takes longer.”
Xenia nodded, her head down. She looked saddened, but she kept her worries to herself. Well, not exactly. He was hooked into her; she just wanted everything to be all right, and why wouldn’t she be concerned? Her husband was going to once again take someone’s ailments away and have to self-heal. He was still whirling a bit from their stay in the hospital, but he wouldn’t admit it. He didn’t want to have yet another thing to ponder. There were so many things to consider. He’d be in pain no doubt, and things could go awry. But she agreed to try to trust him, and she was sticking by her word.
“What are the kids doing?” he looked over at her distorted image through the curtain, water droplets fell hard and fast against it, making her appear as if she were melting. She kept her head down, hugged herself tight and crossed her ankles.
“Watching a movie. We played and ate dinner.” Her voice was low and soaked in sorrow. It hurt his heart.
“I know you just showered, but…” He peeked around the curtain to get a better view of her. “You wanna get in here with me? Give me a kiss before I go?”
<
br /> Xenia slowly lifted her head and smiled at him. A sad smile, tinged with hopefulness. Wisdom and strength shone in her gaze. . Without saying a word, she disrobed. Stepping back, he made room for his muse to step inside, her body soon streaming with warm water. He placed a dollop of mint shower gel in his hand, rubbed his palms together and bathed her from head to toe. Most of the time, he looked into her eyes, occasionally planting a soft kiss upon her lips and cheek. Starting at the nape of her neck, he traced her skin tenderly with his fingertips. Sliding in closer to her, he pressed his stomach against her body and kissed her collar bone. She sighed and held him tighter as he sucked her earlobe and planted another kiss on her jawline before dipping low and running the tip of his tongue over her erect, wet nipples. Cupping his hands around her small waist, he stared at her. The dim lighting and water running down her skin made her appear almost surreal…angelic.
Aroused beyond belief, he slid his tongue inside her mouth, grinding against her body in a slow rhythm. Before things got too far, he stopped himself and switched off the water. They exited the shower, dried off and got dressed. He wished he had a bit more time with her and that the children were asleep, but he could hear them laughing at the movie in the next room. Zipping up his pants and checking himself over in the mirror, he slid his wedding band on and kissed her forehead, then took her by the hand, leading her out where the children sat huddled together with juice boxes and a half eaten bowl of popcorn. Isis was asleep, lying between two couch cushions Xenia had removed and placed there earlier.
Dakarai looked up. “Daddy!”
Saint smiled and put his finger over his lips. “Shhhh, little man,” he whispered. “I’m heading out, okay? Be good for Mommy.” He knelt low and kissed both of his sons on their cheeks, and took a moment to stare at Isis. He knew he wasn’t objective, but she was the most beautiful little girl he’d ever seen—and she was all his. He gently brushed her dark waves out of her face and kissed her forehead before getting back to his feet. As Xenia walked him to the door, he could feel Hassani’s eyes on him. The boy hadn’t said one word. Like his mother, he was worried, but he knew Daddy needed to leave. Saint stopped at the door, his back still turned.
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