The Replacement Wife

by Tiffany L. Warren

  “Yes, my son’s pet project that he insists on running himself,” Estelle said.

  “I think it’s awesome!” Montana said. “It must be very rewarding for him.”

  Estelle inhaled deeply and exhaled a heavy breath. “What he does for those women is wonderful, but I don’t know if it’s rewarding. I think he’s reliving his pain over and over again.”

  Montana considered this and understood Estelle’s sadness. Quentin surrounded himself with the dying, and life was happening all around him. Especially with his children.

  The doorbell rang, and both Montana and Estelle looked at Ms. Levy. She frowned at both women.

  “I suppose it is my job to answer the door, but I get sick of looking at Chloe, the duchess of bougie.”

  Estelle and Montana burst into laughter at Ms. Levy’s joke. After a few moments, Ms. Levy returned, with Chloe in tow.

  “Mrs. Chambers, I present to you Ms. Brooks.”

  Chloe shook her head and rushed over to Estelle to hug her. “Will you please stop announcing me like that?”

  Ms. Levy pursed her lips together tightly. “I will if you ever become a member of . . .”

  “The family,” Chloe interjected. “I know.”

  Chloe stretched her arms in Montana’s direction. Montana lifted her eyebrows in surprise, not exactly sure what she should do. Then Chloe wiggled her fingertips in a “come here” motion. Did she want a hug?

  Montana rose from her seat and hugged Chloe. It felt weird, but Chloe was being so nice that she couldn’t resist. Maybe it was best if she was friends with Chloe. It just might keep her from fantasizing about Quentin.

  “Ladies, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to study the children’s pick-up and drop-off schedules. I’m on call this afternoon, and Ms. Levy is going to be so disappointed in me if I don’t get it done.”

  Chloe pouted. “I thought you were going to stay and help us. I’d love to have another perspective, and maybe a tie breaker in case Estelle and I can’t agree.”

  “I would volunteer to be your tie breaker, but I’ve got Bible study to prepare for,” Ms. Levy said, as she placed a previously prepared tray of sweet tea, sandwiches, and cookies at the center of the table, and turned to leave.

  Chloe’s eyes pleaded with Montana. Montana felt sorry for Chloe. She eased back down at the kitchen table.

  “Okay, I will stay for a while,” Montana said. “In a few hours I have to pick up Danielle, though.”

  “We’ll be done before then,” Chloe said. “I promise.”

  Estelle said, “So, Chloe, I’m excited to see what you’ve already come up with.”

  Chloe’s eyes widened with surprise. “The planning is absolutely in its infancy, Estelle. I wanted to get your thoughts first instead of going down a wrong path and having to change everything later.”

  “Change everything? How unreasonable do you think I am?” Estelle asked.

  Montana pinched herself to keep from giggling at Chloe’s facial expression. There was probably no safe way to answer Estelle’s question, so Chloe just stared at Estelle and blinked.

  When Chloe didn’t reply, Estelle asked, “How much money are we trying to raise with this event?”

  “I was thinking that if it’s grand enough we can raise two hundred fifty thousand dollars. That seems like a safe number.”

  “I can get that amount by calling up a few friends and asking them for donations,” Estelle said. “If we’re going to go all out for this event, we should be thinking around one million.”

  “Well . . . okay, if you say so,” Chloe replied. “I just wanted to give us a realistic goal.”

  Montana was confused. She knew the Chambers family was beyond rich. So why were they holding a fund-raiser for a million dollars?

  “Can I ask a question? I hope I’m not being rude, but can’t you just write a check for the million dollars and forget about the party?”

  Estelle threw her head back and laughed. “Of course I could. And truthfully, everything at Transitions is currently being paid for by Quentin. Some of those women have medical bills in the hundreds of thousands of dollars when they get there.”

  “But Atlanta’s elite like to have parties,” Chloe said.

  “We party for a cause, and this is a great one,” Estelle said. “What is the theme for the ball?”

  Chloe bounced in her seat. She was clearly excited about this part of it. “It should be a masquerade ball! At Transitions the women always have to wear a figurative mask to hide their pain and suffering. We will honor their struggle with our masks and donations.”

  “I like that,” Montana said. “And masquerade balls are always fun to plan.”

  Estelle cleared her throat. “They are fun, indeed. What is your budget for the ball?”

  Chloe flipped through a few pages in her little notebook. “The biggest expense will be the catering, of course, since we don’t have to worry about a venue. I was thinking close to fifty thousand for the dinner with onsite chefs and wait staff. Also, the decorations will be expensive, but I’ve reached out to a couple of art and jewelry galleries that are willing to provide some tasteful pieces for our use.”

  “And how do you intend to cover these expenses?” Estelle asked.

  “The cost per table will be ten thousand dollars, and individual tickets will be one thousand. We will also have a jewelry auction and a rich eligible bachelor auction.”

  Montana lifted her eyebrows at this suggestion. It would be nice to rent a prince for a day. “Do you think Mr. Chambers would participate?”

  “I don’t know,” Chloe said. “He’s not really a bachelor.”

  Estelle said, “But it would be fun. It’s his organization, and I’m sure some cougar would love to drop a mint to be seen on the town with Quentin. It would be harmless.”

  “I suppose . . . ,” Chloe said. She did not seem pleased with the line of reasoning.

  Montana regretted speaking her mind.

  “Someone would have to convince him first,” Estelle said.

  “Of course, I’ll do it,” Chloe replied, although she didn’t look the least bit thrilled about the task.

  “What about flowers?” Montana asked, trying to change the touchy subject. “I love flowers. Wouldn’t it be lovely to have different arrangements in various stages—from bud to full bloom? It could also be symbolic of transition.”

  Estelle clapped her hands. “That is perfect! I just love that idea, and I’m sure Quentin will agree.”

  Chloe narrowed her eyes at Montana, and Montana swallowed. The look was so subtle and quick that Montana wondered if she was imagining it. Estelle was gushing over her idea when she’d been indifferent, at best, to Chloe’s suggestions. Maybe she should’ve let Ms. Levy stay instead.

  “I’m sorry,” Montana said. “Am I talking too much?”

  “Absolutely not. That’s why I asked you to stay, I want your suggestions,” Chloe said.

  Montana smiled. “Okay, well feel free to let me know when I’m out of line.”

  “I will let you know,” Chloe replied, in a tone that let Montana know she most certainly would let her know.

  Estelle’s cell phone rang. She looked down at the caller ID and smiled. “This is First Lady Prentiss. Please excuse me for a moment. You all continue with the planning.”

  Estelle left Montana and Chloe sitting across from one another at the kitchen table. Montana grabbed a cookie from the tray and took a bite to keep from putting her foot in her mouth again. Chloe simply stared at Montana, as if she was assessing her. It made Montana uncomfortable, but she thought maybe Chloe wanted her to feel that way.

  “So tell me about yourself,” Chloe said. “Since it looks like we’re going to be working so closely together, we should probably get to know each other.”

  “Um . . . well . . . okay. I’m a teacher—well, I’m going to be soon. I just have one more test to pass, and then I’ll have my certificate. I sing in the choir at church. I’m originally from Ohio, bu
t I’ve been here in Atlanta since college. What else do you want to know?”

  “Are you seeing anyone?” Chloe asked, without a moment’s hesitation.

  “You mean like a boyfriend? No. Not right now.”

  Chloe gave a look of surprise. “Really? You’re so pretty and bubbly and sweet. Why don’t you have a boyfriend? Someone should be ready to give you a bunch of babies.”

  Montana looked down at her lap. “I can’t have my own children. I guess that’s why I decided to be a teacher.”

  “Well, just because you’re going to be a teacher doesn’t mean you have to be an old maid. You can still get a husband, so you can . . . you know . . .”

  Montana burst into laughter. “I said I wanted to be a teacher. Not a nun. And I’m not a pure maiden, unfortunately. I wish I was, though.”

  “Oh, honey, most of us left behind that purity when we stepped on a college campus. I’m sure God’s forgiven you.”

  “He has definitely done that. He’s also going to send me a husband someday. You’re so lucky to have someone like Mr. Chambers.”

  “Yes, I am. He’s right out of a fairy tale, isn’t he?”

  “He is!” Montana gushed.

  Chloe snapped her head to one side. “You sound more excited than I am.”

  “Oh no, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that he’s a great man. You are blessed to have him.”

  “A blessing is a gift. I worked hard for what Quentin and I have,” Chloe said triumphantly. “If ever there was a man who loved his wife, it’s Quentin.”

  “He must’ve been devastated when she passed. I can’t imagine.”

  Chloe nodded. “He was, and I was the one who helped put him back together again. I encouraged him when he wanted to start his foundation, and the children love me. We’re a perfect match.”

  Montana wasn’t sure about the children loving her, but as long as she had Quentin’s affection, it would probably fall into place.

  “Well, that’s wonderful for both of you,” Montana said, not sure how to respond to Chloe’s speech.

  Chloe nodded emphatically. “But we have to find a guy for you. Do you want someone rich, because I know a few . . . Oh, who am I kidding? Every girl wants a rich man.”

  “I wouldn’t really mind if he wasn’t rich. I just want someone who loves God and then loves me. I don’t need a lot of money.”

  “How about if he loves God and you, and he’s rich? That would be perfect, right?”

  Montana grinned. “Can he be handsome too? Can he be tall, caramel-colored, and muscular with beautiful eyes?”

  Montana stopped cold when she realized she was describing Quentin. “He could be short, though,” she added. “I’m tiny, so he doesn’t have to be tall.”

  Chloe gave Montana a strange look but did not get a chance to respond because Estelle came back into the kitchen.

  “I would like for some of the church members to attend,” Estelle said, “but they won’t all be able to afford that one-thousand-dollar ticket price.”

  Chloe frowned. “This is supposed to be a society affair. The cream of Atlanta society will be here. If we wanted it to be a church picnic, then we would’ve had it at the church.”

  “Freedom of Life is very important to me, and Bishop Prentiss continues to pray for my son and family. I would never exclude them from any event in my home. I also will have the ladies from our Steering Committee, and the Nurse’s Guild. And, of course, Bishop Prentiss’s children. Just make room on your guest list.”

  “But . . .”

  “No buts,” Estelle said. “I won’t hear any objections to this. Now on to the menu.”

  Montana watched Chloe’s expression darken. She didn’t know if Chloe looked angry or just plain frightening, but Montana was sure of one thing. She didn’t want to cross her path. Montana pushed all thoughts of Quentin to the back of her mind.

  God would have to send her another prince, because this one was already attached to his prospective queen—by her claws.

  CHAPTER 12

  Chloe was annoyed by her meeting with Estelle and Montana. So much so that she called Lichelle to meet her at Neiman Marcus for some serious retail therapy. While Chloe waited for Lichelle to arrive, she tried on a pair of Louboutin peep-toe ankle booties. They made her toned legs look phenomenal, but it still wasn’t enough to lift her spirits.

  Chloe almost didn’t recognize Lichelle as she sashayed over to the shoe department. She was wearing a new mid-back-length red wig with big barrel curls. It was loud and garish—something that Chloe would never wear but that was perfect for Lichelle.

  “Hey girl,” Lichelle said in her bubbly voice. “You like my new do?”

  “It looks good on you,” Chloe said truthfully, as they shared a hug.

  Lichelle looked down at the shoes. “Those are fierce, girl. Get them. In every color.”

  Chloe laughed out loud. It wasn’t unusual for Chloe to use her entire shopping allowance on shoes. Quentin loved to see her in heels—especially red bottoms—whether she had on clothes or not.

  “What was the emergency?” Lichelle asked. “You called me sounding crazy. All I heard was a bunch of noise about a chunky nanny.”

  Chloe shook her head. “You don’t listen to me. This chick has stars in her eyes when she talks about my man. That is a problem.”

  “I mean, but she’s the help. Quentin wouldn’t get with the help. He’s got too much class for that.”

  “Yes, I agree, but his mother just loves her. She sings in the choir at church, and you know Estelle has been dying for her son to come back to that church.”

  Lichelle shrugged. “So what? You go to church too.”

  “But I can’t sing.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “He used to be a musician, you know. I don’t want that girl to have anything on me.”

  Lichelle tapped her acrylic nails together and seemed to ponder this possibility. It certainly worried Chloe that she didn’t have that music thing going. What if Quentin did decide one day to play that piano again? Would that heffa be draped across the piano in a negligee, playing the part of the muse?

  “Chloe. Chloe! Where’d you go? I thought we were having a conversation here!”

  Chloe shook her head and exhaled. “I’m here. I just thought about that woman under the same roof as Quentin! He won’t even let me spend the night.”

  “So she goes to church, and she’s curvy. Is she a buttaface?”

  Chloe scrunched her nose. “What is a buttaface? Your hood slang is so troublesome.”

  “A buttaface is a chick with a nice body and a jacked-up face, like a smashed stick of butter.”

  “Oh. Well, no. She’s cute if you like rosy cheeks, big eyes, long eyelashes, and plump red lips.”

  “Wait, it sounds like you’re the one trying to holla at her!”

  “Lichelle! I need your help, and you’re just mocking me.”

  “I’m sorry, girl. I don’t think you need to worry, but it is always good to have some dirt on her, just in case.”

  “You’re right.”

  Just as Chloe was deciding whether to get one or two pairs of the booties, Deirdre walked into the shoe department and picked up a pair of designer pumps. Something about a teenager being able to buy thousand-dollar shoes bothered Chloe. She remembered life before her first sugar daddy. Back then, Chloe was lucky to get a pair of last year’s fashions out of Marshall’s or T.J. Maxx.

  “Look at her,” Chloe said.

  Lichelle shrugged. “Her daddy is a baller. What do you expect?”

  “It makes absolutely no sense at all.”

  “I keep telling you to get that ring, so you can have an all-access pass to them dollars too. He’s got you on the same budget as his teenage daughter.”

  Chloe narrowed her eyes, and her nostrils flared a bit. “I’ll be right back.”

  Chloe dropped her shoes onto the floor and stormed toward Deirdre. As she stomped she rapi
dly formulated a plan.

  “Where are you going that you need shoes like that?” Chloe asked, as she walked up to Deirdre.

  Deirdre turned and smirked at Chloe. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “I don’t care, but your father would want to know, especially since I heard him place you on punishment indefinitely.”

  “Who says I’m going anywhere? Maybe I need these shoes for a school program.”

  Chloe laughed out loud and took one of the silver shoes from Deirdre’s hand. “A school program? What are y’all doing? A reenactment of a night at the club?”

  “Why are you bothering me? Are you spying on me so you can run back and tell my father?” Deirdre asked, as she snatched the shoe back.

  “I am not the one you need to be worried about, honey. It’s the jail keeper they hired. She’s your problem.”

  “I know,” Deidre said with a sigh. “She was interrogating me this morning.”

  “I could help with that.”

  Deirdre lifted an eyebrow; her skepticism apparent. “How?”

  “I can help you get around her and your father’s punishment if you really want to see your little boyfriend in the hood. I’ll pretend to mentor you or something. Then I’ll drop you off wherever you want to go.”

  “Will you bring me home too?”

  Chloe rolled her eyes. “I suppose I’ll have to.”

  “Wait a minute. Why would you do this for me?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but I may need your help.”

  “With what?”

  “Listen here, don’t question me. Just tell me if you want to do it. I’ll get you to your boyfriend, and you’ll help me later, if and when I need it.”

  Chloe grinned at Deirdre, as she waited for the words to sink in. She could tell that Deirdre didn’t trust her, but she still didn’t refuse the deal.

  “If I do this and you try to play me, I’m telling my dad.”

  Chloe laughed out loud. “Ditto.”

  Deirdre snatched up her shoes, spun on one heel, and marched away. Her hesitation tickled Chloe, but it also made her careful. She was in just as much danger from a betrayal as Deirdre, maybe even more so. After all, Quentin wouldn’t disown his daughter over this treachery, but he might just break things off with his fun buddy.