Shay covered her mouth. The pain was too great. “But, Matty . . ., what about us?” Matty stared at her. It was even harder than he had prepared for it to be. He swallowed hard. “There can be no us, Shanita. Not anymore.” Then he added. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, you are sorry,” she lashed out. “Real sorry.”
Then the reality hit her, that she more than likely would never see Matty again, and she broke down. She covered her mouth as the tears came. Matty hurried to her, and pulled her into his arms, tears now in his eyes. They stood there, holding onto each other, both well aware that this very well may be their last moments together.
The pain was too much for Shay. She pushed him away. “Please leave,” she said, tears flowing freely.
“Shay--”
“If you ever cared anything about me, anything at all, Matty, please leave.” Matty didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to leave her like this. But there was really no other way. He wasn’t leaving Alex at this time in her life, he couldn’t. His only prayer was that Shay would be all right. He somehow knew that she would, but the pain of it, of seeing her this way, was wrenching.
He left. For her sake, he left.
When he did, Shay fell to her knees.
TEN
Sixteen Years Later
Shay had to lay on another round of horn blows before that son of hers finally came out of the house. It was a nice house, a four-bedroom Cape Cod in the heart of one of Philadelphia’s oldest and best suburbs, and Shay worked her butt off to maintain it. But the little care that sixteen-year-old son of hers gave to it made her often wonder if all of her hard work, all of the hustle and bustle of corporate life she had to endure, was worth it. She was doing it for him, after all, so that he could have the kind of childhood she never had. But he seemed so uninterested in anything but the streets, and some gangster they called Burma.
Like this morning, Shay thought, as her sixteen-year-old trounced across the lawn, pounding the rows of carefully planted border grass as if that hefty lawn maintenance bill she coughed up every week meant nothing to him. He had his IPod earphones in his ear, his book bag slung over his narrow shoulder, a bagel in his mouth, and in running was forced to hold up his oversized jeans with his only free hand. He was a mess.
But a handsome mess, as all of those silly girls that phoned her home constantly would attest. Tall, muscular, light-walnut complexion with strikingly gorgeous grayish-green eyes, long hair he wore in twists or braids. This morning, it was twists.
“Don’t even try it, DeAndre,” Shay said as soon as he opened the door of her SUV and slung his book bag inside. He rolled his eyes, but pulled up his jeans before he got into her vehicle.
She backed out of the drive, started the short ride to his high school, and attempted to hold a conversation with her son. But he was his usual non-responsive self. It wasn’t until she had to make him turn off his IPod, did he pay her any attention.
“You have got to pull up that grade in Chemistry, Dre, or that teacher said you aren’t going to pass.”
“Ah, that broad doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
“Don’t call her that.”
“But for real, though, Ma, she just be flappin’ at the mouth. I ain’t gon’ flunk nothin’
and she knows it.”
“Very nice, Dre. Very nice English. Ain’t gon’ flunk . Why do you do that? Why do you talk as if you don’t know correct English?”
“To fit in, why you think?”
Shay almost smiled. Her son was sometimes so brutally honest it caught her off guard.
Then other times he was as evasive as a slick politician. “Just do your best, all right? I’ve got enough to worry about at work. I don’t need to be worrying about you, too.” DeAndre looked at his mother as she stopped at the red light. “You still gonna sell Destiny, though?”
“Part of it, yeah,” Shay said as a stormy look clouded her eyes. “I’ve got to get a partner or go into receivership. Into bankruptcy. I have no choice at this point.”
“But you’ll maintain controlling interest, right?”
Shay smiled. DeAndre was, deep down, a very intelligent kid. But his street thug wannabe fascination kept all of that well hidden. “Hell yeah, I’ll maintain control. It’s my magazine. I just need some help. I meet with all interested parties this morning. That’s why I can’t be late ,” she said as she pulled off and began driving again. That meeting, like everything else in her life lately, was something she’d just as soon not think about right now.
She pulled in front of DeAndre’s high school, dropped him off, and then pulled away.
She looked through her rearview as DeAndre turned to head into the school. Only she wasn’t looking just to see him off, she was looking for the signs. Because whenever he planned to skip school, he always slowed his walk, constantly looked to make sure his mother’s SUV was leaving, and he’d occasionally look over his left shoulder in the direction of the school’s entrance gate. Unfortunately for Shay, who didn’t have that kind of time this morning, all of the signs were there.
Although she was already late for her meeting, and was pushing it, she drove around the corner, as if she was leaving, but then quickly doubled-back. When she arrived once again through the school’s entrance gate, she saw that son of hers standing at the curb getting into the low-riding old bubba Chevy that belonged to his idol, Burma.
Shay slung her SUV in park, got out, and ran up to the Chevy, slinging open the door just as DeAndre was closing it.
“Get out,” she ordered her son.
DeAndre, terrified and embarrassed, leaned his head back. Burma and his boys, all big and beefy, laughed.
“Didn’t you hear me, boy?” Shay said to DeAndre.
“You heard her, Dre,” Burma said, attempting to suppress his laughter. “You don’t wanna disobey mama.”
They laughed again.
“Very funny,” DeAndre said angrily, but he got out of the car.
“Check you later, Bro,” Burma said as he and his boys sped off.
Shay looked at her son. His ability to disappoint her sometimes scared her. “Let’s go,” she said as she personally escorted him into the high school. Then she went to the Dean’s office, put them on notice that DeAndre Cooper was up to his old tricks again and that she was to be notified, not at the end of the day, but immediately, if he missed any one of his classes.
All school officials knew Shay well, because she stayed completely involved, and therefore none hesitated in their agreement to monitor her son for the entire school day.
Now Shay was seriously late, and had to floor it to get across town before all of the parties interested in investing in Destiny, gave up, too.
***
Destiny Magazine was a monthly that catered to East Coast liberals and other progressives across the country with a readership, in its heyday, that once topped half a million. But staggering economic times had caused that readership to be cut nearly in half, and now Destiny was hanging on by a slender thread, in the red and still bleeding. A partner was necessary, or Shay’s beloved publication would most definitely meet its end.
Fantasia “Tasia’ Mondale, her assistant with clipboard in hand, and Fantasia’s assistant, Linda, were waiting for her as soon as she entered the doors of the small, two story building.
“You’re so beyond fashionably late,” Tasia said and Shay couldn’t agree more.
“I know. Talk to me.”
Tasia handed her a file as they headed up the side stairs. “Nine interested parties showed up.”
“Nine? Wow,” Shay said, impressed.
“However,” Tasia added, “one has cleared the field.”
Shay looked at her assistant, who had been with her since the beginning of Destiny a decade ago. “What do you mean one cleared the field?”
“As soon as everybody else saw that this guy was interested,” Linda chimed in, “the rest just threw up their hands and left.”
This made no
sense to Shay. “Who would carry that kind of authority that nobody would even stick around to make their pitch? The terms I set forth for partnership in Destiny, I least I think, were very good.”
“I know,” Tasia said. “But I understand why they left, too.”
“Who is it, Tazz?” Shay was dying to know.
“DSI,” Tasia said proudly and Shay, stunned witless, stopped walking, causing Linda to bump into her.
“Did you say DSI?”
“Yes!” Tasia was smiling now. “Driscoll Systems, Inc. Can you believe it, girl? Why they would be interested in our small company is a mystery to me. But a wonderful mystery.
I mean, the capital they can put into this place. We could expand beyond the east coast, go completely national, go global. The possibilities, Shay, are endless!” But Shay wasn’t listening anymore. All she heard was the name. DSI. Driscoll Systems, Inc. As in Matty Driscoll. As in the man who broke her heart. As in the father of her son, the father that she had told her son was dead, now alive, and in her conference room.
She was in trouble.
ELEVEN
Matty Driscoll stood at the window inside the upstairs conference room and stared down at the busy city streets. Two of his assistants, Paul Rice and Gwen Belcher, were seated at the small conference table awaiting the magazine’s owner. They were also on their cell phones handling other business while they waited. For Matty, it was enough to wait.
When one of his managers first approached him with the Destiny Magazine case, he was ready to pass without comment. It wasn’t the kind of company he invested in. It was too small, not a big enough profit margin in the best case scenario, not expansive enough to increase its market attractiveness when or if they decided to sell.
But when the name of the company’s owner was mentioned, Matty nearly lost his balance. Shay Cooper, he almost found himself saying, as if he didn’t hear right the first time.
But he didn’t go there. He maintained his cool and, to the shock of the manager, agreed to look into it himself.
The door to the conference room opened, and Shay, Tasia, and Linda stepped inside.
Shay was determined to keep it together, walking in as professionally detached as she could manage. But when she saw Matty, even with his back to her, looking out of that window, her knees almost buckled. How in the world, she wondered, was she going to handle this?
Matty didn’t turn around immediately on hearing the opening of the door. He, instead, waited, and exhaled, before turning around. His assistants had stood and they were all shaking hands, when Matty turned around. He was thrown, not just by seeing Shay again after all of these years, but by how exhausted she looked. She still had that pretty, innocent face and that body he had come to know so well, but her sparkle was gone, that hope mixed with puzzlement he used to see in those big, brown eyes of hers was nowhere to be seen. Now she looked drained, overworked, burdened.
“And Miss Cooper,” Paul said, as Matty began coming toward the table, “this is Mr.
Driscoll, our boss.”
Shay turned slowly in his direction, plastered on the biggest smile she could manage, and extended her hand. “Mr. Driscoll, hi,” she said.
Matty took her hand and shook it, but he was in no mood for make-believe. The pain, of having to leave her, of the life he was forced to lead after her, of seeing her business in tatters and herself from the looks of her, was still too much. “You’re late,” he said matter-of-factly.
Although Matty had unintentionally squeezed her hand too tightly, Shay pulled it away with little resistance from him. “I know,” she said, surprised by how easily he could keep it together. Did he even remember her? It had, after all, been sixteen years. “I do hope you weren’t waiting too long. Please have a seat.”
To her displeasure, Matty sat at the head of the table, as if he, not she, was running this. And it was that move alone that woke her back up. He was the one who had broken her heart, he was the one who had left her for another woman, why in the world should she be the one to be all nervous? She got real, and sat in the chair flanking the head of the table, with her assistants seated beside her. Paul and Gwen sat across from her.
“This is the deal,” Paul said, all of the papers, undoubtedly her entire business history, in front of him. “We think Destiny shows some promise. Not a lot of promise, mind, but enough to get our attention. And we may just be willing to put an offer on the table.”
“The offer is already on the table,” Shay said boldly. “I retain sixty-five percent controlling interest.”
Paul smiled. “Miss Cooper, the key to success here is reasonableness. Your bargaining position is hardly what we would call, in any circumstance, favorable.”
“Despite what you perceive to be my weak bargaining position, the offer still stands. I retain sixty-five percent, you will get thirty-five percent.”
“Not going to happen,” Matty spoke up and everybody looked at him. “This company of yours has been bleeding money for five straight years.” Shay’s heart began to pound. She was amazed at how cold he seemed, this man who used to make love to her so tenderly, who used to hold her so tightly. “I know that,” she said, trying to keep it together too. “I don’t need you or anybody else to remind me of what my company has been doing. I’ve been here while it’s been doing it.” Paul started to respond, Matty usually sat back and allowed him to be his mouthpiece, but not this time. “You’ve been here, yes,” Matty said, “but what have you been doing to staunch the bleed? According to our reports, you haven’t fired anyone, you haven’t downsized your overhead, you haven’t even changed your magazine’s philosophy to strengthen readership again.”
His last comment made Shay jump defensive. The magazine’s philosophy was her philosophy and questioning that, it seemed to her, was a direct attack on her. “I have no intentions of changing Destiny’s philosophy,” she said, her face a mask of irritation. “I mean, what’s up with that? It’s our no-holds-barred, unapologetically liberal bent that keeps our readers coming back, why would we change our philosophy? I mean, who does that?”
“Magazines in trouble,” Matty said. “That’s who. And whether you want to admit it or not, Miss Cooper, Destiny Magazine is in trouble. Serious trouble.”
“Again you tell me what I already know.”
Matty liked her spunk. All of these years and her undoubted struggles hadn’t taken that away from her. But she still pricked at his heart. “All right,” he said, “let me tell you what you don’t know. Nobody, not one reputable company, would be willing to take on this mess of an organization based on the terms you offer. And I mean not one company.”
“Then make me a counter offer, and if I don’t find your terms as offensive as you find mine, then perhaps we can deal. Otherwise, nice seeing you, have a wonderful life, goodbye.” Shay’s heart was hammering when she said those words, but she was determined not to let him rile her.
Matty’s heart dropped, on hearing those words, especially if she meant them. Would she do that? Would she see him again and then go on with her life? He knew he couldn’t.
But he also knew that he was the one who hurt her, not the other way around.
He stood to his feet. When in doubt, was always his motto, stretch it out. “I’m afraid I have to run,” he said. His rising caused everybody else in the room, except Shay, to also stand. “We’ll need to meet over dinner to discuss this further. I’ll pick you up at, say, eight?” Shays stood this time. The idea of having dinner with Matty wasn’t something she would be comfortable with. “I’m not sure If I’m available tonight. This is very short notice.”
“Understood. But our window of opportunity is short. I have other business here in Philadelphia that’ll keep me around for a few days, but I would like to reach some agreement if possible. Can you move some things around and meet with me tonight?” She felt as if she was caught between a rock and a hard place, but Destiny was in trouble and Matty, though she hated to admit it, might very well be her bes
t choice. He would want the best deal for DSI, she understood that, but he wouldn’t try to take advantage of her disadvantaged position. At least she didn’t think he would. “Eight is fine,” she said, “but no need to pick me up. Just name the place and I’ll get there.”
“I’m staying at the Ritz-Carlton,” he said. “We can have dinner there.” Shay nodded. “Okay. The Ritz it is. At eight.”
“On time this time,” he said, grabbed his briefcase, and then left, with his two assistants hurrying behind him.
When he did leave, Shay dropped to her seat, her heart barely registering a beat.
“Shay, what’s wrong?” Tasia asked her. Although she was Shay’s best friend, she knew nothing about her history with Matty. When Shay dropped out of Franklin U and left that condo in Baltimore that same day Matty had given her the news, she never looked back.
Now it was all in her face again, about to blow up again, and she was nearly traumatized.
“Excuse us, Lin,” Tasia said to her assistant.
Linda, accustomed to being forced out, left, closing the door behind her.
“Okay, give,” Tasia said. “Why do you look like you just saw a ghost?” Shay closed her eyes, and then opened them back up again. “Because I have,” she said.
TWELVE
Entering the Ritz-Carlton in Philadelphia’s Center City, with its opulent great white pillars and dramatic staircases, immediately made Shay feel decidedly out of her league. Especially since this was far more Matty’s turf than hers. But what could she do? Allow him to come pick her up and risk him seeing DeAndre? He was no idiot. He’d see this sixteen-year-old biracial kid who looked amazingly just like him and easily put two and two together.
Shay wasn’t ready for that. She had to see where Matty’s head was first, and if his relationship with Alex Graham (or was it Alex Driscoll now?) could sustain this kind of news.
And she also knew she had to prepare DeAndre. Because she knew her son, and she knew he’d probably hate her more than he already seemed to, if she didn’t do this right; if she didn’t explain why it was that she kept his father a secret from him all of these long years.
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