by Carmen Green
First, though, she’d have to stop by the ATM and get money out to last the rest of the month. Maybe more bags would sell soon. If several of the more expensive bags sold, she’d have enough to get an attorney and get her home back. Then her life would be on track.
In the meantime, she dialed the judge’s clerk and left a message to get on his calendar. Tia had no idea how this was done, but it looked as if Judge Dunn’s prediction would come true. She rationalized, if she got on his calendar, she could always get an attorney faster.
Seeing three e-mails from her anger management classmates, Tia opened the first one.
Revenge plan one:We should pull a Stella and burn his clothes and all his possessions. See how he likes playing Mr. Man in clothes from the thrift store.
Tia giggled, knowing the author was Pebbles.
Been there, seen that. We need to be much more original. Gary should suffer.We should give him a little something to help him sleep, cut all the hair off his body and tattoo INFIDEL across his forehead. I know a guy who’ll give us a discount. Love, Debbie.
Tia’s laughter echoed in the stillness of the quiet office.
The idea was original, but it wasn’t without flaws. Michael Jordan had made bald fine back in the nineties. Once Gary got over being bald, his hair would grow back, covering their work, and even then, some women would still feel sorry for him.
Tia clicked on the next e-mail.
Take away what he wants most.
She looked to identify the sender but didn’t recognize the address. The tone of the message creeped her out.
Several of the ladies responded, asking for more details, but others weighed in on the first two suggestions.
Tia voted for tattooing but added that it should be little I’s all over his face, with slow-fading ink. The whole idea smacked of the seventeenth century and The Scarlet Letter.
An old punishment for an old crime.
Tia voiced her assent and waited. A quick vote followed.
Not surprisingly, the second suggestion got the most votes, although two of her classmates lobbied hard for the public burning of his property.
Take away what he wants most.
Tia frowned when the message popped into the mailbox three more times in quick succession. Who are you? she typed. Identify yourself.
When the author of the messages stayed silent, Debbie posted the official total, and the tattooing won. Relieved, Tia sat back and waited. Somebody would have to plan how they’d trick Gary so that he’d be at their mercy enough for them to accomplish their goal.
All the women in the class chatted back and forth, suggestions flying.
Tia scanned them, then leaned forward when she saw her name mentioned. Tia, your job will be to distract Byron.
Apparently, he’d made it a point to contact each of the women and let them know that the police were there for them—and their spouses—if the need arose.
Byron had made it clear that the department wouldn’t tolerate any acts of revenge. Several of the women chimed in that they supported Ginger and would do whatever was necessary, short of getting arrested.
When? Tia typed.
Starting today.
Tia ran her fingers through her hair, then held her stomach, feeling a sudden case of nerves. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been alone with Byron, she just hadn’t had to be alone with him.
Besides, he’d been right. They had decided to go after Ginger’s husband. But they’d been talking silly stuff until tonight. Max out his credit cards and send out company e-mails about his nonsexual abilities, nothing like the ominous-sounding e-mails that had come through earlier. She was glad that nobody had wanted to act on those suggestions.
Closing her eyes, Tia inhaled deeply and reflected on her life with her ex. She stopped a minute. That was a first. She hadn’t ever categorized Dante that way before. It felt good. Tia knew she’d moved another step away from their past and let her thoughts flow.
They’d been happy for a time, but unhappy for far longer. He was gone now. She didn’t know where and didn’t care.
Dante had wanted a certain lifestyle, and now neither of them had it. What a mess they’d made.
Yet the end was near. Now that she’d stopped wanting to hurt him, she’d slept comfortably last night. Better, in fact, than she had in a while. And her stomach didn’t have its customary burn.
The thought consoled her. One day soon she’d be sitting at home, in front of her fireplace, and she would look back on these days and be thankful they hadn’t lasted forever.
Work had been agonizingly slow this week, with no storms brewing over the Pacific or the Atlantic. The wildfires in Oklahoma had been doused, and it had stopped snowing in California.
Even the volcanoes were sleeping, yet the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She turned around and met Chance’s smoldering glare.
“Surfing the net on company time?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Another violation,” Chance purred, change tinkling in her hand. “Make it easy on yourself and resign.”
“Why should I? I do my work, I come in on time, and I give more than a hundred percent to this company. I’m not quitting, Chance, although I know that would be easier for you since you already promised my job to someone’s niece.”
“You sneaky little witch. Lurking in bathrooms now? That’s a new low, even for you.”
“I was using the facilities. Perhaps you should think about that before you start a personal conversation in a public latrine.”
“I-I,” Chance said, stumbling over her words.
“I’m heading to the Hilton, you care to join me?”
“I don’t fraternize, Tia. I keep business and my personal life separate.”
“I understand. I was there a couple weeks ago and saw a woman get the piss slapped out of her. Made me wonder how a businesswoman could get caught up in being a victim. I thought I’d mention it in case we were looking for an expose-type story. The women behind domestic abuse.”
Chance’s milky white face was splotchy and red. “I don’t know anything about that. And thank you very much, but we have real reporters and producers who can come up with stories without your help. Just quit, dammit!”
Tia clicked the mouse three times in succession, then squeezed past Chance. “No can do.”
Tia grabbed the papers from the printer outside her cube and handed them to her boss. “This is a satellite view of Earth and its alignment to the moon. A tsunami might result. You never know. This is a satellite photo from a week ago, monitoring the gasses that surpassed the Earth’s atmosphere from the fires out West. And this is the forecast for the next five days. I’m not sure, but I think I’m doing my job. Probable cause for firing me? I don’t think so, but we might want to run it by the station’s attorneys.”
“This isn’t a right to work state, Tia. I can fire you for any reason I please.”
Tia glared at the pale-faced woman, tired of her, tired of the threats, and tired of being tired. She needed her job, but she didn’t need the harassment.
“What’s stopping you? You seem to enjoy coming around, holding this job over me. I overheard you on the phone basically giving my job away. If it’s like that, then why am I still here?”
To her credit, Chance’s face became mottled. “My parents seem to think you’re worth saving.”
“That can’t be it. You relish your authority but don’t seem to quite have all your fingers on the big girl switch that will seal my fate.”
“Chance, why don’t you tell Tia the real reason you can’t just up and terminate her?” Ronnie/Rhonda said, coming from the side cube, making both women jump.
Dressed in a hot pink shirt and slimming black pants, he looked like he was ready to be lord of the dance or something. Despite his unannounced arrival, Tia was grateful for his presence. She needed a friend. Lately, all hers seemed to need a lot of counseling.
Rhonda/Ronnie’s question lingered.
“Wh
at are you still doing here? All the gay bars in Atlanta closed?” Chance insulted her brother in a mildly irritated voice, her straight black brows crinkled at the very ends. How did she do that?
Rhonda/Ronnie growled at his sister, yet his expression was gentle. “My date’s picking me up in a bit, darling. Then we’re going to paint this town fuchsia.” He laughed at her wince. “Now that I’ve answered your question, you answer mine. Why don’t you tell Tia why haven’t you fired her?”
“That’s none of her business.”
Tia didn’t agree. “You harass me all day. You sneak around, stand over my shoulder, go through my desk, and try to intimidate me. I do my job. I’m about finished with the class. I don’t know what more you want.”
“The desk is company property,” Chance shot back.
“You’re avoiding again,” Ronnie/Rhonda chimed in. “Tia, Chance can’t fire you because she has to have a two-thirds vote from the owners—meaning three of the four of us must agree before she can terminate an employee. Right now, she doesn’t have that.”
“Ultimately, I have the final decision,” Chance said. “If you don’t perform to standard, you will be terminated, and these”—she held up the papers Tia’d given her moments ago—“aren’t going to cut it.”
“What are those?” Ronnie/Rhonda asked casually.
Chance glanced at the papers. “Aerial photos of the earth. Elementary stuff.”
“But part of the duties you assigned to her. I’d have to testify to the fact that she gave you what you asked for. Good night, sis. Sleep well.”
Chance stomped off, and Tia gave Ronnie/Rhonda a big hug.
“I didn’t get fired and not realize it, did I?” Tia asked.
“No, cream puff,” he said, with a sad smile and serious eyes. “You were saved by the big, gay wolf.”
This time his growl made her laugh. “That gay wolf is my hero. I just hope I’m not creating a rift in your family.”
Ronnie/Rhonda laughed fully. He grabbed her sweater and doused the light on her desk. “Honey, you couldn’t touch our troubles if you crocheted together all the Neide Ambrosio belts in the world. Do your job, and you’ll come out on top.”
They rode the elevator down in companionable silence, Ronnie/Rhonda swinging her hand.
“How is Officer Abs, Ass, and Pecs?” he asked.
Tia giggled, some of the tension leaving her. All day her whole body had been tight with tension, but now that she was off duty, she felt as if she were emerging from an iceberg. “He’s fine. We’re not a couple, you know. He’s just my—”
“Bodyguard?” Ronnie/Rhonda filled in. “Like Kevin Costner to Whitney Houston? Like Taye Diggs to Angela Bassett? Like Larenz Tate to Nia Long? Like—”
“No,” Tia interrupted. “You know your movies, don’t you?”
Ronnie/Rhonda checked his manicured fingernails. “It’s chapter six in the being bi man’s handbook.”
“You’re so silly.” They walked outside as Tia shouldered on her jacket, loving the slow slide from winter to spring. The sun had already set in the west, but a few fingers of orange and blue streaked the sky in the distance. She wanted to head in that direction and chase the tail end of the day, but reconsidered when her stomach growled for food.
Ronnie/Rhonda stood next to her in his sleek outfit, looking like he should be on somebody’s drill team. She wasn’t sure, however, what college would have pink as its school color. “Who is this mystery man, and is he on the way?”
Checking a beautiful Movado watch, Ronnie/ Rhonda nodded. “He’s Damien St. Jacques. Sounds like a porn star, but he’s not. He’s with an accounting firm, and yes, he’ll be here in about five minutes. Would you like to join us for dinner?”
Tia blushed. Ronnie/Rhonda really was her friend. “You don’t need a chaperone. Have a good time, and I don’t want to hear a single detail tomorrow. You know, I’m still in relationship recovery.”
He grinned big. “Please, cream puff, you’re over Mr. Stupid. I’m tellin’ you every last lip-smackin’, booty-rubbin’, chest-touchin’—”
Tia cried out, laughing as Ronnie/Rhonda pretended to molest her on the street. The sidewalk cleared around them as smiling people gave them room to play.
“Behave,” she told him as the wind blew her hair into her face. She wiped the curls away. “You’re never going to get a second date if he sees you feeling me up.”
“Oh, damn. I didn’t think of that. She’s a lesbian!” Ronnie/Rhonda announced to passersby. “She’s trying to turn me,” he said to two obviously gay men.
“Into what, baby? A boy?” the tall thin man said.
Tia and Ronnie/Rhonda joined the men in uninhibited laughter. The men winked and walked on down the street.
When she could control herself, Tia patted Ronnie/Rhonda’s arm. “I’ve got to go now. My bus will be coming soon.”
“Where’s your car?”
“Parked until I can afford to drive it.”
She saw the look on his face and rubbed his arm. He was feeling sorry for her, and she wasn’t going to have it.
“Hey, I’m fine. Man, I can stand to lose a few pounds,” she said. “Walking to and from the bus stop isn’t going to hurt me.”
“Tia, it’s dinner, and it’s not an imposition. I don’t want you trolling happy hours for free food anymore.”
“I don’t do that.” Tia turned her embarrassed face in the opposite direction of Ronnie/Rhonda’s. How did he know? She’d been so discreet. Perhaps he’d seen her. Or it could be that every doggie bag in the break-room refrigerator had her name on it. “I’m going to have spaghetti—” she lied.
“Tia, is that you? Remember me? It’s Kirk.”
Distant reminders tickled her memory. Tia looked up into the handsome face of Kirk Giles.
“Right,” she said, extending her hand. “This is my friend Rhonda/Ronnie!” The men shook, and to Tia’s relief, Kirk didn’t seem at all homophobic.
They’d met at happy hour a while back, and Tia was supposed to have called him. Somehow she hadn’t gotten around to it. Her life sucked, and she hadn’t wanted to share that bad news.
“What are you doing over here?” she asked.
He grinned, showing a perfect Crest white smile. “I ran into your friend Megan, and she said you were waiting for her to pick you up. So I offered, hoping we could grab a bite to eat and talk.”
Alarms went off in Tia’s head. She wasn’t waiting for Megan. “Where’d you see my friend?”
“At Art & More on Ponce this afternoon.”
One of Ronnie/Rhonda’s eyebrows shot up like Chance’s, and Tia caught his drift. What successful, gainfully employed brotha went to an art store in the middle of the day? One who’d just lost a job or was about to lose one.
Kirk gave them a knowing smile. “I’m in radio. They’re running a promo ad, and while we’re still a small start-up, I wanted to press the flesh and get to know the area at the same time. I assure you both, I have a real nine-to-five job.”
All three laughed. Atlanta was full of fakers.
“We believe you,” Ronnie/Rhonda said to Kirk. “Press the flesh,” he sighed to Tia. “Yum.”
Tia elbowed Ronnie/Rhonda. “That sounds great,” she said to Kirk. “I wonder what Megan was doing there.”
“She said something about finishing a mural.”
Tia rolled her eyes but couldn’t comment further. The girl was definitely certifiable.
Just then a sleek, smoke grey Lexus convertible pulled to the curb, and a pretty blond man stretched out of the vehicle, leaning on the door and the roof. “You ready?”
“Double yum. Good night, girls and boys.” Rhonda/Ronnie kissed Tia’s temple and looked directly at Kirk. “Tia’s the absolute best meteorologist in the state. Don’t try to steal her away from us. And don’t break her heart.”
The men shook hands firmly. “I’ll take good care of her,” said Kirk.
Ronnie/Rhonda leaned over Tia, fixing her already s
traightened collar, and said, “Don’t look now, but Officer Wonderful is fuming over your left shoulder.”
He started humming Nelly’s “Hot in Herre” before climbing into the Lexus. The men drove away, leaving Tia and Kirk in the middle of the block.
“Want to grab a bite to eat?” Kirk asked.
So Byron was spying?
She might as well give him something to look at. “Best offer I’ve had all day.”
Although Tia wanted to look over her shoulder, she couldn’t bring herself. Lately, she’d been having more than just feelings for the attentive cop. She’d been dreaming about him.
Wanting to hear his voice. Imagining them together. And she wasn’t happy about it.
He’d arrested her. Carried her out of jail over his shoulder. Shoved her into his police cruiser, and in general, had been arrogant and bossy.
She wondered if she suffered from some type of bizarre attachment disorder. Like Stockholm syndrome.
Some people fell in love with their therapists. Others with their doctor.
Maybe she was infatuated with Byron because he was the only man who’d paid her any attention lately. Byron was her protector. There was comfort in knowing he was just over her shoulder, watchin’ her ass.
Tia didn’t look back as she added a little more sway to her step.
She took Kirk’s extended arm. “I’m incredibly hungry. What did you have in mind?”
“I’d love some soul food. Know of a good place around here?”
“Gladys Knight’s restaurant. It’s called Chicken and Waffles. They have a full menu. Want to give it a try?”
“Lead the way.” Kirk gave her an admiring glance that said he would let her lead, for now.
She got into his Infiniti and belted in. Looking at his navigational system, she plugged in the street name and address, and they both looked right before he eased into traffic. Then Tia drew back.
A squad car had pulled door to door with their vehicle, and a scowling black man was staring at her.