“Yes, I’m sure. I haven’t heard from her since she flew out of the parking lot.” He’d driven to her house an hour later after he was sure he wasn’t being followed, just to make sure her car was in her slot and she’d made it home safely. When he’d seen she had, he went home.
They sat in silence for a moment, both of them contemplative.
“Well, I just wanted you to hear all this from me. I need to go open up the store. Your delivery items are on your worktable as always.” Masaun rose. Dumping the remainder of his coffee into the sink, he headed toward the door.
Sweet stood and followed him to the door. “Masaun, I’m sure this will all work itself out, eventually.”
With nothing more to say, Masaun left the apartment and went back downstairs to work.
~YH~
“CA Harvey, a moment of your time please.”
“Kindle, Kindle. By all means, come in.” Bryant Harvey, her boss, rose and greeted her with a more pleasant expression than the last time they had been in the same room at the office. His pale peach complexion was brightened by the smile on his face as he rounded his desk to usher her in with a wave.
Stepping in, she closed the door behind her. “Lorraine said your schedule was clear for the moment.”
“Clear or not, I’d make room for the top Assistant on my staff.” He folded his arms over his chest and looked like the cat that had swallowed two canaries, a gold fish and had drunk an entire bowl of cream. “The way you delivered that closing argument last week I thought the jury was going to call out an amen or dance the jig following it.”
She couldn’t hold back her own smile. The news media had been painted all week with the trial and Dashell’s sentencing hearing results. Kristy and her mother had invited her to their home for dinner the day Dashell was carted off to jail to start his four counts of life sentence at the State Penitentiary. Seeing the small survivor’s smile had been her true reward.
“Thank you, sir.” She inhaled and began her reason for coming to see him, “I need to discuss something other than the trial outcome with you.”
“Sure. Take a seat.” He directed her to one of the two chairs facing his desk as he returned to his seat. “What’s on your mind?”
“I know in a few months you will be leaving office.”
“Yes. I think the press conference I had last year took care of that.”
“Well, I haven’t had an opportunity to tell you you’ve been a fantastic mentor over the last two years. I don’t think I would have developed to the caliber of lawyer I’ve become without your guidance and trust in some trying cases.”
“I guess it is my turn to thank you.” He leaned back in his chair. “I will say it has paid off handsomely if the coming election turns out how I believe it will.”
She lowered her gaze to her hands, folded loosely in her lap then met his gaze once again. “I would like for you to withdraw my name and any backing behind it you’ve given.”
He sat forward. “Why in the hell would I do that?”
Swallowing, she sat straighter in her chair, boldly meeting his gaze. “Because I’m giving you my resignation at the end of the day. By the end of the month, I will be gone.”
Running his hand over the top of his thin hair then down his round face, he stared at her. “Do you understand what you are giving up? You would have become the first African-American female Commonwealth Attorney of Virginia Beach. Few will ever have that level of accomplishment.”
“I know. Trust me when I say I didn’t arrive at this decision easily.” That was the truth. She had muddled over her decision multiple times in the last few days. After the hours of time spent with the CA public relations team who aided tremendously in putting a spin on her connection with the BDSM lifestyle, as well as a tangible level of humanity putting it in direct contrast to the deplorable behavior of the man on trial. The lifestyle wasn’t necessarily fully embraced in the public eye, but more understood at least. For that she was grateful.
There were times she changed her mind, but she knew for her own wellness of mind and one day, her body, she couldn’t go on as she had.
Rising, he turned toward the window behind his desk and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. He stood like that for so long Kindle didn’t know if she should leave or not.
Finally, he turned and faced her. “Why? Answer me that single question? Why would a legal prodigy such as yourself, who would be an ace at representing the people of the city walk away from it?”
She didn’t even hesitate in her response. “It doesn’t make me happy. Before I become burned out and exhausted then lose heart to practice law altogether, it is best that I go.”
“What do you plan to do, teach?” The horrified look on his face brought a smile to hers.
Practicing lawyers and judges tended to forget that if not for law professors none of them would be where they were now.
“I have not figured that out, yet.”
Sitting in his seat again, he exhaled loudly. “Is there any way I can change your mind?”
“No, it’s pretty set.”
He nodded. “I figured you would say that.” He leaned forward and gave her a pointed look. “It will be the city’s loss.”
“Only for a brief moment. The other Assistant CAs here are just as good.”
“Bullshit.”
She laughed and rose, holding her hand out to him.
He stood behind his desk and reached out, clasping her hand. “Does your decision have anything to do with the man in the paper with you?”
A weight fell on her shoulders. Her relationship, or lack thereof, with Masaun was something she had yet to resolve and she sure wasn’t planning to discuss it with her boss. “I’d prefer not to say.”
He gave her hand a firm shake. “If you ever need anything, you know my personal number.”
“I’ll hold you to that. Give Mrs. Harvey my best.”
“Will do.”
Moments later, she was headed back down the hall and around the corner to her own office. In the month before she left, there were still a few minor cases she needed to handle. She would miss her staff and the team of lawyers she’d worked with, but she knew she was making the right decision for herself.
~YH~
“Hi, Dad.” Kindle walked into her condo as she answered her cell phone.
“Kin. I was wondering if you were going to ignore this phone call as well.” The deep baritone reprimand came through the phone.
It was one she deserved. In the last week, she had only answered calls on her phone that were related to work, needing to block everything else out while she finished out the trial, especially when her cell phone had started to receive unknown number calls and harassing messages as well as those left by reporters of every level wanting to know about her clandestine activities.
“I apologize about that. I just needed time to myself. You know, work demands and all.” She went into her office and set her briefcase down before returning to the kitchen so she could decide what to fix for dinner. It was an odd occurrence for her to be home before the sun had set. She didn’t know what to do with all the time.
“Understandable.” There was a pause.
Kindle stopped, she knew what was on her father’s mind. She was positive he had seen and heard the reports of her in the news, even in Williamsburg. Regardless, her father kept up on all things pertaining to her career.
“It’s been a while since you and I have gotten together.”
She translated that to mean that her father wanted to discuss the issue of what was in the paper.
“It has. I plan to rectify that real soon, Dad.” Before he could go any further, she said, “How about one day I come and take you to your favorite restaurant?”
“Are you trying to bribe me?”
“Is it working?” she teased, something she had not done with her father in a very long time.
“Possibly.”
“What if I toss in paying for your favorite de
ssert and not asking you about your latest hypertension results.” She opened up her refrigerator and considered the few things in there. Closing the door, she went to her take-out menu drawer and thought about making a better choice than her cooking. She missed the simple but delicious fare Masaun used to make for her. She pushed those thoughts away.
“Now, I know I’m being buttered up. Well, let me know when you can make it. I know you’re busy with work. I can imagine a number of cases have now fallen in your lap.”
She swallowed a lump of guilt. Her father was going to be so disappointed when she gave him the news about her career. “I love you, Dad.”
“Love you too, Kin.”
Clicking off her phone, she spread the menus out on her counter, trying to decide what she had a taste for as she looked from one colorful paper to the next. Deciding on vegetarian cuisine, she reached for her phone.
Ding. Dong.
The sound of her doorbell took her by surprise. Setting her cell down, she went to her door and hoped she wasn’t going to be harassed by another reporter.
Looking through her peephole, she spotted the back of a woman’s head. The lady had a short, tapered hair style and was dressed casually in a heather grey cashmere sweater. Stepping back, Kindle unlocked her door and opened it.
“May I help you?”
The woman turned around, and for a moment, Kindle swore she was looking at an older sophisticated reflection of herself.
“Hello, Kindle.”
CHAPTER sixteen
“Mom?” The hand on the door knob began to shake as she stared into the face of Beatrice Langston Lauder.
“Yes.” The stranger with the older version of her face smiled. The woman’s long-sleeved, soft grey sweater draped at her collar and she wore jeans and short black ankle boots. The woman’s make-up was artful, but more than Kindle ever wore.
Standing in her doorway, staring at the woman, Kindle wanted someone to appear out of thin air and slap her across the face, hard, force her to wake up, because evidently she was caught in the throes of a nightmare. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
“May I come in, please? I don’t think this conversation is appropriate for your front porch.”
Appropriate. The hell if this woman had the right to lecture her on what was proper. Against her better judgment, Kindle stepped back when she thought it would have made more sense for her to slam the door in the woman’s face.
“Thank you.” Beatrice crossed the threshold and moved into the living room.
When she started to take a seat on the couch, Kindle said, “I didn’t invite you to sit.”
Straightening, the woman met her gaze, russet eyes to russet eyes. “I guess I deserve that.”
“Oh, you deserve so much more.” Kindle didn’t attempt to temper the anger rolling inside of her.
Beatrice glanced around the living room, seeming to take in small characteristics of Kindle’s life.
Kindle felt like she was being violated by the woman’s perusal. “I asked what you were doing here.”
Facing her again, Beatrice said, “You have grown into a beautiful woman.” She pressed her hand against the back of her head as if she thought something was out of place. “You remind me of a picture of my mother when she was your age.”
Crossing her arms under her breasts, Kindle said, “Funny I don’t recall that picture…or her, or you for that matter.” The last part was a lie; Kindle did remember her mother. She remembered her dropping her off at school, kissing her on the cheek and driving out of her life. However, if she allowed those thoughts in, she’d have to accept the pain that went with the memory. Something she refused to do.
“I never meant to hurt you, Kindle. It was just…your father and his ways and then Dale—”
Slicing her hand through the air, Kindle stopped her. “Look, honestly, I don’t care what reason you’ve been plotting and planning in your mind as an excuse for the unforgivable, I just want to know why you decided to come back into my life now.”
Beatrice rolled her ripe papaya painted lips inward and glanced away.
Did she think I wanted to hear it? Did my mother truly believe I had sat my entire life waiting to find out the weak excuse she would give me for leaving?
Looking at her again, Beatrice said, “I saw the news report.”
Oh, shit. It was Kindle’s turn to shift her gaze away. Closing her eyes, Kindle took a breath then faced the woman before her. “So, it made it all the way to Minnesota, did it?”
“Not the local paper. Believe this or not, but I’ve been watching your career for years now. I have an album full of clippings of all your achievements.”
“How did you even know where I lived or worked?”
“Your father. I spoke with him on occasion to see how you were.”
“Dad never said anything to me.” She wondered why her father never talked about calls he got from her mother.
Beatrice shrugged. “When I never heard a response from you to any of my letter and cards—”
Shaking her head, Kindle couldn’t go here. She could not allow this woman a place in her life. “So, you saw an article that I’m assuming didn’t sit well with your collection,” Kindle made quotation marks in the air, “Now what?”
“You looked happy. Out of everything I’ve ever seen of you, nothing compared to the joy captured on your face in that kiss.” There was a small, almost maternal smile on Beatrice’s lips.
Kindle stared at her, waiting. She figured the woman was finally arriving at the reason for her cross-country trip.
“I’m concerned though. His association and the brutality of his lifestyle.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Kindle threw her hands up, disgusted. Her mind was flooded with memories of the nights and days she’d spent with Masaun. The closeness they shared. To have her mother pollute that with the same ignorant beliefs as the reporters in the press made her sick and angry.
“I know you’re a grown woman, but you don’t want to find yourself trapped in an abusive relationship—”
“No!” Kindle shook her head. “No. You don’t get to come here after years of not seeing me and try and dictate my life. Who I love. How I love.”
She stepped toward her. “I tried to reach out to you, Kindle. You never returned my letters. I wanted you to come to Minnesota to visit.”
Moving out of her reach, Kindle said, “Why didn’t you do like you did today. Just show up on my damn doorstep and say ‘Hi, remember me, I’m your mother’. Anything would have been better than the coward’s way out and sending me a cold note in the mail.”
Beatrice gasped.
Kindle didn’t know if the woman was shocked she’d used the word damn or by the accusations. Whichever, Kindle didn’t care. Her throat felt tight as she said, “I want you out.”
“Kindle, please, I just want—”
“You don’t get to want. Because when I wanted a mother to talk to about periods and boys and life, you chose to be with Dale.”
Her nostrils flared as she sucked in a breath; then Beatrice nodded and started for the door.
“Wait,” Kindle called out.
Beatrice turned, looking at her with a hopeful gaze.
Disregarding that, Kindle rushed into her room. When she came back into the living room she was carrying a long flat plastic case. Moving to the woman she handed it to her.
“What’s this?”
“Every letter, note and card you’ve ever sent me.”
Russet brown eyes rimmed with water searched Kindle’s face. Glancing down, Beatrice pulled the top off and glanced inside at the multiple colored envelops. “It looks as if you never opened any of them.”
“I didn’t.”
The tears spilled over as the woman who had given birth to her closed the lid back. “I’m sorry it has to end like this.”
Moving past her, Kindle opened the door. “It ended for us when I was seven. Good-bye, mother.”
Wa
lking past her, Beatrice paused before her. “I never stopped loving you.”
Like a statue, Kindle didn’t move or respond. She waited until Beatrice Langston Lauder had crossed her threshold and exited her life for good. Closing the door, she pressed her back to the door and exhaled. Her hands shook a little but they were open and relaxed. She had battled reporters, snobbish ex-boyfriends and now her own mother. Kindle was taking control back of her life, one hurdle at a time.
Moving away from the door, she went into the kitchen to her phone. Instead of calling the restaurant, she called her best friend.
As soon as Razor gave Emmalee the phone, Kindle said, “Can you please come over?”
There was a brief pause and muffled conversation on the other end, then Emmalee came back on line. “I’m on my way.”
~YH~
“What in the hell?” Masaun normally used the back door when he came back from lunch, but as he drove by the front of his store, he noticed the line. After parking his car, he went around to the front, perplexed at the reason that people were standing around Decadent Treats like they were in line awaiting concert tickets. First the damn reporters were swarming the place a week ago and now this.
Standing there stunned for a moment, he watched as two people came out, two people entered. Evidently some system had been established by Connie and Hanson to make sure they were complying with Fire Safety regs on the max occupancy within the store.
“Hey, man, you need to get in the back of the line.”
Turning, Masaun looked at the overweight white man dressed in leather from head to toe with sweat rolling down the side of his face. Masaun bet this guy had bought the outfit for a Halloween gag and was parading around town in it a month early. He almost laughed when he saw the plastic whip dangling from his belt—a complete fraud. Scanning the crowd he noticed that a few people were dressed in some kind of pleather get-up while most appeared normal.
“I own the place,” Masaun said, before giving a once over and moving to the door.
“He’s the owner,” was whispered through the crowd.
Red Hots Page 24