by Unknown
In the meantime, I’m gonna take a look at Jazzy’s books and see what kind of shape they’re in. Let you men talk. Just remember to go slow and be easy. Don’t be pretentious.”
Presently, Edwin Davis made his way to William’s table. Half an hour later Melinda watched as the two men raised their glasses and made a toast. A deal of some sort of had been consummated and Melinda’s intuition told her that a major transaction was in the works.
William looked around for Melinda and eventually noticed her standing idly by the bar. He beckoned her, ordered another bottle of champagne, filled both glasses, then leaned over and kissed her gently. All of Melinda’s fears and trepidations faded with the kiss.
“If you have a mind to,” he said, “you may want to start looking for a two bedroom condominium. Something in the low 90’s that we can both be comfortable with. I’m seriously considering putting the Greenwich Hill house on the market sometime in the next couple of weeks with the help of Mr. Davis or should we keep it in the family and let your uncle have the commish?”
Staggered by the news, Melinda Bailey found herself speechless for the first time in her life. As much as she wanted to scream and tell him yes, yes, yes she could not utter a word. Only a few minutes ago, when Jazzy mentioned Sylvia, she wondered if she had lost him, again. Now, he was asking her to pick out a
home in which they would be comfortable. She figured there had to be more to it than that but tickled by the news she didn’t inquire further.
The William Stanton she thought she knew so well was chock full of surprises but she never expected this. Not wanting to appear too anxious or too easy, she chose her words carefully.
“Don’t you think it would be better if we waited, William, and looked together?” she inquired politely.
CHAPTER 16
Mondays always arrived in the office of Hill and Morris with a gloomy vengeance and though not readily welcomed by most, Melinda’s cheery presence usually brightened even the gloomiest of her co-workers. For Melinda, the weekends were the time she dreaded the most. Home alone again she began to feel more and more like a Black female version of McCauley Culkin. She hated the fact that she was on a first name basis with the manager of Blockbuster’s and the idea that after weighing all of her weekend options, she found herself on aisle seven once again, trying to choose between Blockbuster’s new arrivals and the five movies for five nights special At least in the movie Home Alone, Macaulay had an intruder to occupy his time. She didn’t even have that. Oh, how she abhorred the weekends.
Every weekend, it seemed that the whole world was moving—doing something. And, of course, everyone had a mate. Everyone that is but her. How nice it would be, to be off somewhere, snuggled up with William. And it didn’t have to be in an exclusive hotel like the Marriott or the Hilton on some exotic beach in Tahiti or San Tropea. No, in all actuality a Motel 6 on the outskirts of town would suffice nicely right through here. The idea of her finding a place for them was nice but hey that had been a while ago and he hadn’t mentioned it since. And Lord knows her moods swings were in a frenzy teetering back and forth between horny and lonely. If she wasn’t one she could count on being the other.
If William had, time constraints, and he always did and he couldn’t spend as much time as she needed or wanted, then she guessed she’d just have to adjust. Hell, if she was nothing else, she was flexible. If he couldn’t spend the night because he was preoccupied with work and business and making a dollar, then fine. Better they didn’t go to Tahiti or San Tropea. If he couldn’t spend a weekend, then, a night would do. If he couldn’t spend a night then—. Oh hell, that’s what made Motel 6, Motel 6. It was one of the few motels that had hourly rates and hell an hour with William was a month of memories. She could at least use those memories to carry her through those next few lonely weekends and Lord knows her memories beat the 5 for 5 Blockbuster specials hands down. Now those dreams of spending quality time that she had coveted over the years, like so many Afghans in a spinster’s hope chest were fast becoming a reality. And she had to commend herself on playing her cards close to the vest.
Yet, she couldn’t believe how stupid she’d been. She had actually dissuaded him from spending time alone with her.
She tried to rationalize her mistake by remembering her mother’s advice when it came to sex and men.
“Why should they buy the cow, when they can get the milk free?” And then telling herself that she’d waited this long she might as well stick to her guns and let the whole scenario play out. After all, at this juncture in their relationship she still had virtually nothing more than a promise and good intentions. Therefore, she had nothing to lose. She believed him to be sincere and William had assured her that their union was inevitable but until she heard the words, ‘I do’, she would take nothing for granted and would remain alone on the weekends.
The waiting had become even more painstaking since they’d begun seeing each other and by the time Monday morning rolled around, she could hardly wait to get to the office to tackle the memos and files, which she knew awaited her.
CHAPTER 17
Arriving earlier than usual, Melinda found the fax machine already purring. And after putting the coffee on, rearranging her desk and prioritizing her workload, she somehow found her way over to the fax and tore the long sheet off. Another memo from corporate, no doubt, probably suggesting they limit the use of toilet paper to cut down on rising costs. This would, in turn, heighten the chances of the clerical staff getting a cost of living raise in the upcoming fiscal year. Hell, Melinda thought aloud, if they just cut down on the number of ridiculous faxes, which in itself would be a start.
She put the fax on her desk and checked the coffee maker. She poured herself a cup and checked her watch. Five minutes to nine, William should be walking through the door momentarily. She then poured his coffee, added two spoonfuls of sugar and that horrible French Vanilla creamer he so adored. It was God-awful but he loved it and refused to drink his coffee without it. Putting the mug on his desk, she returned to her own and picked up the fax to see what those brainless twits in corporate had come up with now. But her thoughts retreated to Friday night at Jazzy’s and the way William had looked at her. Smiling now, she could almost feel William’s hand parting her thighs. She thought about her mother’s advice and wondered just how strong her convictions would have been of William had decided to grab her suddenly and take her back to his home or even the nearest hotel room.
She was still smiling and holding the fax when William burst into the office, looking almost as fine as he had on Friday night. Good God Almighty, she thought to herself! She couldn’t wait to get a hold of that man. Attempting to regain her composure, she dropped her head and mumbled, “Good morning, Mr. Stanton”.
“Mornin’, Melinda.” He was strictly business now and Melinda wondered if he was having the same problem she was having in trying to maintain proper office decorum after all the time they’d spent together lately. But William didn’t seem to be having any problem and seemed to barely notice her at all after taking the fax from her hand. He read it quickly and then placed it back on her desk. There was no mention of the weekend, no reference to her appearance, not even a thank you for his coffee which he always thanked her for before even entering his office. Had she done something to annoy him? She wondered. What?
“Melinda.”
“Yes, William?”
“Would you arrange my itinerary and get Terry Shannon on the phone for me. I think it’s a go,” he said the anxiety now obvious in his voice.
Melinda was shocked. “When? What, William?”
“Didn’t you read the fax? Morris has me scheduled to leave on Wednesday and I’m only to be there until Sunday, supposedly just to tie up any loose ends from the previous trip and to make sure that everything is being set up according to our specs and guidelines with no penny pinching by the crew that’s over there but you and I both know the skinny.”
Melinda placed her finger to her
lips in an effort to shush him, summoned him close enough so only he could hear then whispered.
“Be careful William. You know Morris has his own division of Homeland Security and I wouldn’t be too surprised if he’s not sittin’, listenin’ to every word,” she whispered, slowly regaining her composure.
“Don’t worry. This is the last run through and everything’s gonna work out just fine. Trust me you’re gonna be happier than a pig in slop when this whole mess blows over. Now pick up the phone, Terry Shannon’s on line one. Better yet, I’m gonna disconnect him and you call him back on your cell. Apologize to him for me cuttin’ him off but I should have never called from this phone.”
William smiled, walked into his office, then turned, and stuck his head out of the door as he hung his suit jacket on the coat rack behind the door.
“Melinda?”
“Yes, William?”
“Did I mention how utterly desirable you look this morning?”
“No, you didn’t,” she said, smiling.
“And I didn’t thank you for my coffee either, did I?”
“No, you didn’t,” she repeated.
“I didn’t think so,” he said, grinning right along with her like a couple of teenaged pranksters. He then closed the door to his office picked up his coffee in one hand and his cell in the other and called Terry Shannon.
“Terry? William here. Looks like everything’s a go. Can’t really talk now but just keeping you posted.”
The usually tight-lipped D.E.A agent was elated about this latest turn of events and insisted, despite William objecting vehemently that he take William out to dinner sometime before William’s departure on Wednesday. That left only two days and William, still exhausted from the weekend, hardly wanted to sit in some crowded restaurant with the very bland and morose D.E.A agent when he could be wining and dining his very sexy, very voluptuous secretary who seemed to be getting better looking everyday. Yet, he agreed to meet him that night and get it over with once and for all. After all, they were finally coming to the finish line of what had become a very nerve wracking and grueling marathon between good and evil and, frankly, he was ready for the whole damn thing to be behind him once and for all.
“Do you know where Li’l Paisano’s is down on Mulberry and West 4th?” Shannon asked
William affirmed.
“How ‘bout we meet there. Say, about eight?”
“Eight o’clock is fine. I’ll see you then.”
The rest of the day went off without a hitch. William confirmed the upcoming trip with the Ol’ Man that afternoon, helped Melinda shape his itinerary, which he purposely left loosely scheduled so as to afford him some time with Alex and his family and to give himself some much needed rest and, other than that, it was a typical lackluster Monday.
At seven thirty that evening William found a parking spot on the corner of West 4th and Mulberry and waited patiently until he saw the rather stout, stoop shouldered DEA agent cross the street in front of the little Italian restaurant. Locking the car and activating the alarm, he rushed to meet Terry Shannon before he could enter the restaurant. He’d heard of Paisano’s but had never ventured to frequent the well-renowned restaurant.
William had always felt somewhat uncomfortable entering an all—White or all—anything establishment without knowing what awaited him on the other side. He hated being in the spotlight and hated it even more when he was alone and the only Black. On several occasions, he’d been forced into this predicament and the results were always, but always, the same.
As soon as he entered, all eyes would turn in his direction and, then, there would be the muffled sounds of muttering. And he assumed they were saying something to the effect of, ‘what’s this nigga doin’ in here or isn’t there anywhere left that we can go that’s off limits to them. Sill used to tell him he was paranoid and even though he was usually the only Black at business luncheons and seminars, he’d never grown accustomed to the feeling.
Sill, on the other hand, had been pretty adamant about his moving in mixed circles and was always trying to encourage him to be more outgoing. She forced him to attend a good deal of Hill and Morris’ little social gatherings no matter how boring. When they did attend, despite his objections, she was not only the focal point but seemed to relish the spotlight, mingling and laughing and always surrounded by a crowd, who seemed to savor her every word. But not him. He would find a corner and, with a drink in his hand, simply pine away, checking his watch at regular intervals and, waiting for the crowd of ogling fans to dissipate, so he could snatch her up and head home but they seldom did.
When he could stand it no more and he’d gained some courage from the drink in hand, he would somehow find the inner strength to make his way through the crowds and suggest, almost apologetically, that it was getting late and they needed to be getting home. Sill would almost always be vehemently opposed but after a fair amount of prodding he’d finally drag her away. He wondered if he was the only Black that felt this sort of discomfort, being the only Black and all, but there really wasn’t anyone to ask.
Moments later, he caught up with Terry Shannon. They entered the restaurant together and just as he suspected all eyes fell upon him, or so he thought. He imagined how he would have felt if he hadn’t waited for Terry, and glancing quickly around the restaurant and not seeing another Black he immediately regretted accepting the invitation. Terry, on the other hand, did not so much as notice the other patrons or the attention they received so elated was he in meeting William.
“Thought you weren’t going to make it when I didn’t see your car,” he said trying to curb his enthusiasm.
“I parked down on the corner,” William said nervously, as they waited to be seated.
There was no hostess, but a burly gentleman, who substituted between waiter and cook, soon greeted them. The hospitality and the gracious smile William was so used to when he dined out was nowhere to be found and William wondered if it ever had been. The man was obviously not happy in his work and the long hours and shuttling back and forth between the kitchen and dining room had clearly taken its toll over the years, William assumed. The fact that the restaurant was packed seemed to do little to improve the man’s temperament and William could hardly understand why anyone would encourage such rude behavior by frequenting the place. The look of disapproval must have been apparent. Terry dropped his head, a smiled etched on his tired face.
“You need a table for two?” the waiter asked as he wiped his greasy hands on a dirty towel that hung from his apron, which was equally as dirty.
“Yes, sir,” Terry answered, trying to be as cordial as possible.
“This way,” he grunted.
The two men followed and William prayed that he wasn’t being led to some table by the service entrance or near the bathrooms. But, instead, the waiter found an empty table in the center of the restaurant and in the same gruff manner that he had greeted Terry and him with, asked the young White couple seated next to them to move over so there would be more room. He then turned to William and informed him that he’d send the bartender over to take their drink orders but if they knew what they wanted then they could order now and save him a trip.
“The veal parmegiana is the best this side of Sicily,” Terry said in an obvious effort to take William’s mind off the waiter whom William was staring at with the most guarded of looks.
“Give me two veal parmegiana dinners, a bottle of your best red wine, a couple of salads and lots of bread.”
“Dressing for your salads?”
“Uh, yeah. I’ll have the Blue Cheese and you, William?”
William snapped back from his thoughts. “I’ll have the wine and vinegar.”
And without another word, the waiter turned and walked away. Terry Shannon looked at William and smiled. “Don’t even think about it. The first time my wife brought me here, I wondered if it was me. But he’s been the same ever since I’ve known him. Gruff. I guess that’s just his disposition. But the food
’s hard to beat. I’ve traveled a little, thanks to my wife, and she’s always been the one to want to try something new and I’ll tell you, honestly, that in all our ventures, I’ve yet to find a better Italian restaurant. That man right there has a gift. He can really cook. So, I guess we have to put up with his shortcomings. In any case, let’s talk about Morris. So, he finally gave you the green light? I’ll tell you the truth, William, I was starting to have my druthers. You know, I don’t know if I told you but I’ve been on Morris and Davenport’s case for close to twelve years and this is the closest we’ve ever been to getting to him. Actually, we’ve been close a few times but that Morris is a shrewd one. Anytime, we started to make any headway, he’d shut down for a while until we were forced to abandon our surveillance. You know the bureau’s not going to continually fund an operation with no results and Morris is well aware of this, so he’d stop trafficking for just long enough that we’d have to disband and then he’d pick up right where he’d left off and never miss a beat. It was almost as if he had someone on the inside. And to tell you the truth, I don’t know that he didn’t. What I do know is that with you, we have the best chance we’ve had in some time to finally nail this cat and, William, you don’t know how badly I want him,” Shannon said.
“Can I ask you something, Terry?” William asked.
“No doubt, William. Ask away.”
The bartender brought a basket of Italian bread and both men jumped on it like it was the last supper,
“Tell me something. With all the traffickers, and I’m sure with one of the major airports in the country and easy access to 95, why such a hard on for the Ol’ Man,” he asked between mouthfuls of the crusty bread.