A Piece of the Pie

by Michelle Lindo-Rice

  That was the only thing she had to be proud of in all her forty-two years. She had said no to drugs and alcohol. She said yes to sex, though. A lot of the time.

  They arrived at the elevator and Rodolpho pressed the button. The door swung open. It was vacant. Evie squelched a groan. They stepped inside.

  They were the only four occupants, but they huddled close. There was no escaping. Evie held her breath against the stench of urine mixed with weed. That was why she preferred the stairs. Three times she thought about digging her heels into Rodolpho’s foot. But he might kill her.

  The elevator opened and Rodolpho led the way. She hobbled out after him, wrapping her arms around her waist. November had come in with some chilly temps. The one-eyed goon pushed her. Her body propelled into Rodolpho’s back, hitting him hard.

  Rodolpho reached for his knife on reflex. He relaxed when he realized what happened. “Why you women insist on wearing those heels if you can’t walk in them is beyond me.”

  Evie shoved him. “I know how to walk in my shoes. Your freak pushed me.” She cut her eyes at the man.

  Rodolpho grabbed her and snarled. “Put your hands on me, again. I might decide to turn the other way and let the freak do what he wants.”

  Her mouth opened. “I …” She gulped before giving him a nod.

  The men laughed and Rodolpho secured his knife.

  Evie wiped the sweat off her face and sniffed. It wasn’t often she felt helpless. How was she going to get out this? Forty thousand was like forty million dollars. Before Freddie’s heroin addiction, it was small change.

  She marched on, taking in the scenes before her. She past a hot dog stand and her stomach growled. She looked upward.

  Then she stopped.

  And began to laugh.

  Evie clutched her stomach and laughed until she cried. Her laughter bordered on hysteria.

  Rodolpho shook her. “What the heck is wrong with you? You think forty grand is a laughing matter?” His chest heaved.

  Nothing was wrong. Something was right. Evie pointed up at the billboard. “I can get the money.”

  Rodolpho squinted. “What?”

  “I know where I can get your money,” Evie repeated, bringing her emotions under control.

  “A few minutes ago, you told me you had no one. Now, you’re pointing to the sky like money’s about to rain down from heaven.” Rodolpho investigated her pupils. “What are you on?”

  “I’m clean,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s just that I see a way out, but I’ll need a few days…” She tapped her chin. “No, give me a month. I’ll have your forty-thousand dollars.”

  He studied her. “Fifty,” he challenged.

  Evie’s mouth dropped. “But you said Freddie owed you forty.”

  Rodolpho nodded. “Yes, but you look like you’re about to hit the jackpot. I see nothing but dollar signs in your eyes. So now it’s fifty-thousand dollars.”

  Evie trembled, but she nodded. “I’ll … I’ll get it.”

  “I must be crazy, but I believe you.” Rodolpho poked her in the chest. “You have until the day after Thanksgiving. Get it to me, then. Don’t let me come looking for you and don’t even think of leaving town. I have eyes and ears all over this city.”

  “You’ll get it.” Evie lifted her chin and met him square in the eyes. Her insides quivered while she waited for Rodolpho’s response.

  “Not one day later.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “You have my word.”

  His cold eyes chilled her to the core. “Break it and you’ll have a new smile.”

  5

  “What did you do?” Pumpkin asked Cameron that evening. She’d enjoyed her visit to the spa, but as soon as she left, Cameron filled her mind.

  She confronted him from inside her custom, walk-in-closet of their Upper East Side penthouse. Large mirrors made up one side of the wall. She’d chosen a simple, black cocktail dress paired it with red heels and had kept her makeup light. The only jewelry she’d worn was a black onyx bangle.

  “Shhh. Just be patient. I’ll tell you.” Cameron stood behind her. He kissed her ear. “You look exquisite.”

  She eyed his black suit and grey shirt. “You look good, too.” Then she noticed he held a box in his hand. “What’s that?”

  Cameron opened the black square to reveal a diamond-studded necklace. “I saw it and thought of you.”

  Pumpkin swallowed to keep from saying, “I don’t want a darn necklace. I want to know what’s wrong.”

  “Lift your hair.”

  She scooped a handful of her curls and lifted. Cameron kissed the back of her neck. That was one of her love zones and he knew it. Pumpkin snuggled into him and moaned. He kissed her again before easing away. She felt the swish of the necklace lining her neck and opened her eyes.

  She touched the delicate thread. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

  Cameron looked at his watch. “We have to go.”

  She held his arm. “It’s killing me. The wondering… the not knowing.”

  “All in due time,” Cameron said. “I think I hear Bertie. Let’s not keep her waiting.”

  She frowned. “Stop using my grandmother to distract me.”

  He squared his shoulders. “Okay, if you must know. I need you with me, tonight. I’m trying to get Percy to executive produce another film.” He adjusted his cuff links. “By the way, Christine would like a sample of Pumpkin Spice if you’ve got any.”

  Pumpkin glared. “You expect me to buy that? You broke down earlier, saying you don’t want to lose me. I need you to tell me why.”

  He shrugged.

  “Suit yourself,” she said and stormed toward the door.

  “What about the perfume?” he asked.

  “The samples won’t be in until next week. I’ll get it to her then.” Pumpkin fumed. “Is that soon enough?” She snatched her black clutch and walked out of their bedroom. “Now let’s get this farce over with.”

  Cameron followed her without another word. She appreciated he knew when to keep his mouth shut. Pumpkin didn’t want an everyday, normal conversation. She wanted to know what was bothering her husband. However, he seemed determined to stall.

  Bertie came out of the bedroom she occupied whenever she visited. Pumpkin had decorated it to suit Bertie’s style. Bertie wore an eggplant, knee-length dress and diamond studs.

  “Grandma, you look amazing,” Pumpkin gushed, dismissing her anger. “The men are going to be lining up to get with this fine woman.”

  Bertie waved her off. “I don’t want a man. I’m good how I am.”

  Pumpkin raised a brow. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  Bertie slapped her arm. “Don’t get fresh with me, young lady. The world may see you as an icon, but I still remember paddling that butt from time to time.”

  Pumpkin chuckled. “I remember, too.”

  “You look gorgeous, Bertie,” Cameron chimed in, kissing her on the cheek.

  Bertie blushed. “Aren’t we going to be late?”

  “It’s okay. We’ll be fashionably late,” Pumpkin said. “I’m expected to make an entrance.”

  “Oh, excuse me,” Bertie teased. “Sometimes I forget I’m in the company of stars.”

  Pumpkin rolled her eyes and stopped by the hallway mirror. She’d eaten a bowl of strawberries earlier and needed to check her teeth to make sure she’d flossed all the strawberry seeds.

  They exited the suite. “It feels good out here.” Pumpkin lifted her face to soak in the light, evening breeze.

  “It does feel good. If it’s not raining tomorrow morning, I’m going running,” Bertie said. She pointed across the street. “I love that you live across from Central Park.”

  Pumpkin raised a brow. “You could, too, if you let me sell your house.”

  Cameron held open the door for them to enter the SUV, then hopped into the front passenger seat. Once they were all inside, Bertie answered.

  “I’m not leaving my friends and ch
urch. I’ve lived there for thirteen years. I see no reason to move now.”

  Pumpkin had heard that so many times, she didn’t know why she continued to ask. “Stay another day and we’ll go see The Color Purple. Jennifer Hudson’s playing Shug Avery. I really want to see her live.”

  “That voice of hers is a gift from God,” Bertie said. “But I promised the church sisters I’d help them with the homeless ministry. I’ll come up after Thanksgiving. We can go then.”

  Pumpkin smiled. “Okay, I’ll hold you to that.”

  Bertie tapped Cameron on the arm. “Is Denzel going to be there tonight? I’d love to meet him.”

  Cameron turned his head to address her. “I don’t think he’ll be there. But at these events, you never know who might show up.”

  “Ooh, I wouldn’t mind meeting Tom Selleck. There’s just something about that man.”

  Pumpkin cracked up. “Then you’ll love Percy Stanton.”

  “Who?”

  Everybody laughed.

  “He’s the next Idris Elba,” Pumpkin said.

  “Now that Idris is one fine man,” Bertie said. “I wouldn’t mind waking up to that British accent every morning.”

  Pumpkin laughed.

  Bertie drew close to whisper in her ear. “Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’m here.”

  Her grandmother was as good as she was at putting on a show. She looked into Bertie’s eyes. “Thank you, Grandma. I’m all right for now.”

  “Okay. Just know. Nothing’s too big for God to fix.” Bertie patted her on the shoulder.

  The vehicle slowed. “We’re here,” Cameron said.

  Along with about fifty paparazzi.

  She could see the flashing through the tinted windows. Pumpkin squeezed her grandmother’s hand. “Are you ready for this?” she asked.

  Cameron opened his door and got out.

  “I can’t avoid them and I’m sorry this always happens when you’re with me,” Pumpkin said.

  Bertie patted her hand. “Wipe that worry off your face. I’m good. I don’t have to deal with this every day like you do. But you can hold my hand.”

  Cameron opened their door. Bertie got out first. Then Pumpkin. She knew from experience to shield her eyes. Otherwise, she would be blinded by the brilliant shots coming her way.

  After a slew of photographs, Pumpkin took her grandmother’s hand. She grabbed Cameron’s arm. The three of them made their way into the private affair.

  There was a live band and some new girl group Pumpkin couldn’t identify on the stage. The girls were scantily dressed. Their outfits combined could dress one person. She shook her head. In her opinion, many of the young acts today were all about image and not so much about talent. Some of the aspiring models she met felt they had to allow themselves to be exploited in order to get ahead. That was how they ended up doing porn or posing nude because they had been assured they would get a career. Sadly, a lot of them battled anorexia or drug use. Pumpkin was glad she had her Grandma Bertie or that could’ve been her story.

  That was part of the reason Pumpkin had co-founded HPH Models Inc. She wanted to help these girls achieve success the right way and give some of them a second chance.

  HPH Models Incorporated involved herself and two other supermodels, Heaven Saunders and Honey Norwood.

  As unbelievable as it might seem, those were their real names. That was how they had first bonded. All three women had met in their teens at a modeling gig. When they heard each other’s names, they had laughed and became instant friends. Now they were in business together.

  “There are enough stars in here to line heaven,” Bertie said, touching her chest.

  Pumpkin shook herself to the present. “What about the rappers and groupies? Where are they going?” Pumpkin teased.

  “I’ll leave that answer up to Jesus.”

  There was a huge poster with “The Cover-Up” splashed across it featuring Percy and another actor in a wheelchair. Pumpkin squinted. She didn’t recognize him.

  “Who’s that?” she asked Cameron.

  “That’s Ashton Clarkson. He’s someone I, uh, discovered. He’s talented. I’ll take you to meet him, but first let’s go greet Percy.”

  She scanned the crowd. “Where is he?”

  “Over to the far right.”

  Percy looked their way and waved.

  Pumpkin slid out of Cameron’s arms and lifted her shoulders. She swung her hips and strutted toward the actor, using her signature catwalk. She was the Olivia Pope of the modeling industry. Everybody knew her by her walk.

  Cameron and Bertie followed behind.

  “I’m Pumpkin,” she said, holding out her hand.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you. You’re much more beautiful in person,” he said. His baritone voice was as deep as it was on screen.

  She turned to his wife and greeted her with an air kiss. “Hi, Christine. I’m a huge fan. I’ll have that sample sent to you next week.”

  “Girl, thank you. We should take a picture together.”

  Pumpkin’s mouth dropped. “Do you mean that? I can set something up.”

  “I’ll come out of retirement for you,” she smiled. “Just call me.” She gave Pumpkin her card. Pumpkin placed Christine’s card in her clutch. She could go home now. This night had already been a success for her business. Wait until she told Heaven and Honey! They were going to scream when they heard this news.

  “I see you’ve already met Christine,” Cameron said, before introducing Bertie to everyone.

  Cameron winked at Pumpkin. She knew he was pleased. She shivered thinking about how he was going to thank her later.

  Her grandmother pinched her on the butt. “Look at you strutting like you own the place.”

  Pumpkin laughed. “I learned that from you. Don’t think I didn’t study you walking down the aisle at church. You sashayed to your front seat.”

  Bertie crooked her head. “I wasn’t about to let Mable sit in my spot. Besides, you know I’m all about entering the Lord’s house in style.”

  A commotion behind them got everyone’s attention. Percy excused himself to find out what was going on.

  “This place is out of compliance,” the person yelled. “How do you not have a wheelchair ramp in this day and age?”

  Cameron snapped to attention at that voice. He rushed over to join Percy. The two men lifted his wheelchair down the steps.

  Pumpkin tilted her head to look through the crowd to get a look at their visitor. “That’s the guy from the poster. I think he starred in Cameron’s movie.”

  “He didn’t have to cause a scene,” Bertie said.

  Pumpkin tapped her shoulder. “Shh, Grandma. They’re heading this way.”

  “Don’t shush me. I’ll tell him myself when he gets here. If it’s one thing I hate, well two things – people who show up to your place uninvited and people who cause a scene.”

  Pumpkin kissed her grandmother on the cheek. “I’m sorry for shushing you. Please don’t say anything.” She plastered a smile on her face as Cameron and Percy approached with Ashton by their side.

  “Ashton, I’d like you to meet my wife, Pumpkin, and her mother, Bertice Burkette,” Cameron said.

  The young man held his hand out. “It’s great to finally meet you.”

  His voice sounded brusque. Pumpkin figured he was still bothered by the whole inaccessibility dilemma.

  “Cameron tells me you’re in his movie,” she said, making small talk.

  “I am,” Ashton said. “If only to appease his guilt.”

  Cameron froze. He gave Ashton a warning glance.

  Pumpkin’s brows furrowed. She looked between the two men. The air was thick and the tension high. What was going on here?

  “What are you talking about?” she asked.

  Ashton ignored Cameron’s look. “Your husband’s the one who put me in this thing.”

  “You mean put you in his movie?” Pumpkin asked. She didn’t like Ashton’s frosty attitude. “I think
that’s a major opportunity.”

  Ashton shook his head. “I mean—”

  “Have you been drinking?” Cameron shot out, interrupting him. He bent over to give Ashton a breath check.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  Both men ignored her. Pumpkin was puzzled by their interaction. Her grandmother gave her a stay-out-of-it look, but she shook her head.

  “I’m sober.” Ashton’s bitter tone was evident. He glared Cameron’s way. “Tonight was humiliating. I’m sick of this chair.” He slapped the wheelchair for emphasis.

  “Look, I’m sorry about the steps, but you don’t have to get nasty.” Cameron said. He stepped closer like he was gearing up for a confrontation.

  “I know you’re not trying to fight with a man in a wheelchair,” Pumpkin said, holding on to Cameron’s arm. She faced Ashton, “What did my husband put you in?”

  Bertie held onto Pumpkin’s hand. “I don’t think he’s talking about the movie.” She whispered low for Pumpkin to hear.

  Pumpkin’s heartbeat accelerated. She shook her head. Surely, Ashton wasn’t saying Cameron put him in that chair. She looked toward her husband and saw the guilt on his face. “Cameron, please say something.”

  Her husband was still. The only sounds he made were when he took deep breaths. He kept eyes on Ashton, daring him to speak.

  Ashton broke eye contact first. He swung his wheelchair and took off in the direction of the bar. Then he stopped and looked back to say, “Just watch the movie. It will tell you everything. All about The Cover-Up.”

  6

  “You didn’t have to leave,” Pumpkin said. “We could still go to see The Color Purple on Broadway or even tour the Metropolitan Museum.” They were parked in front of Bertie’s two-story, four-bedroom house in Farmingdale. Pumpkin had moved Bertie out here from Uniondale thirteen years ago. This home had been Pumpkin’s first major purchase as a supermodel.

  “Yes, I did have to come home. You and Cameron have things to discuss. I can go next month or something.”

  Pumpkin cut her eyes at the man sitting in the seat before her. “I have nothing to say to him. He’s—”