by Carl Weber
“So? Me and Aaron are going to get married one day. Only difference is you got a piece of paper.”
“Get out of here, Simone, because I think you’ve lost your mind.” Monique made her way back over to try to comfort Porsche. I didn’t take it personally, though. I knew that was part of her duties as first lady.
I closed my locker and picked up my bag, heading out the door to meet Aaron. Monique could say whatever she wanted, but if she were in my shoes, she would have done the same damn thing. Besides, Porsche’s hair would grow back eventually. Hell, I’d only put a little Neet in her conditioner. Truth is, I didn’t even know if she’d put it in her hair, as bad as it smelled. Turned out it couldn’t have worked more perfectly.
As I exited the locker room, I almost wanted to reach around and pat myself on the back. I wondered, When are people going to realize that you don’t fuck with Simone Wilcox?
The Bishop
29
I was sitting in my office, working on my sermon for Sunday’s church service as I savored the taste of Sister Andrea Cottman’s peach cobbler. I’d titled the sermon “Having God’s Favor in These Critical Times,” and that was just how I was feeling—like God had blessed our church during a very difficult period. We’d fought through a recession, the Jackie scandal, and Smitty’s death, all to land on our feet with our heads held high. I was really proud of the church and loved the direction things were going in, especially the choir.
And what could I say about Aaron? He’d turned out to be a godsend who had gone way past my expectations in such a short period of time. He was prompt, diligent, enthusiastic, and had grown the choir to fifty members. They’d already won a couple of competitions, and the church’s attendance was almost back to the pre-Jackie days, although revenue was still down significantly with the recession and all.
To top that off, Maxwell was doing a good job tightening up the deacons’ board. Things were really looking up.
“Thank you, Lord,” I prayed out loud.
I heard a light tap at my door and invited the visitor to enter.
Tia poked her head into my office. “Excuse me, Bishop. I’m sorry to interrupt you, but can I talk to you for a few minutes?”
I waved her in. “Sure, come on in. I wanted to talk to you anyway. The first lady has told me what a help you’ve been with Aaron and the choir. I just wanted to let you know that I really love the job you and Aaron are doing. You should be proud of yourself.”
She walked in, standing in front of my desk humbly. “Thank you. I really appreciate that.”
“I should be thanking you. Have a seat. How are you doing?”
She sat down in the chair in front of my desk. “I’m doing okay.”
“So, how can I help you?”
“Well, it’s just that I have a little problem.”
“What is it?” I became concerned by the look of unease on her face. I knew that Tia’s rape had left her emotionally fragile, and though she was doing well now, I worried that any bad experience could lead to a setback for her. My train of thought ended up being way off track. I never could have imagined what she was about to tell me.
“I just came from the bank. When I went to cash my check, they said there were not enough funds to cover my check.”
“What?” I sat back in my chair. Things just didn’t add up. “I don’t think that’s possible, Tia. Are you sure it wasn’t an error on the bank’s behalf?”
“I know the church has money, but I’ve been having a few problems with Trustee Wilcox, and I was wondering if that had something to do with my check.”
I rubbed the crown of my head and contemplated the possibility that Simone was playing some type of game with Tia’s check. My wife had told me about what happened to poor Porsche Moore’s hair and that she believed Simone had something to do with it. It looked like Simone was playing for keeps when it came to Aaron. I’d seen her act this same way back when she was interested in James. I could also see why she might have considered Tia a threat, considering how closely she and Aaron worked together and the tight relationship that everyone could see they had been developing. As far as I could tell, Aaron and Tia were only friends, but Simone wasn’t the type to accept any woman, friend or not, around a man she’d laid claim to.
“I hope it’s just a bank error, but I’ll look into it.” My cell phone rang and I excused myself to answer it when I saw the church janitor’s number on my caller ID. Harley never called my cell unless it was an emergency.
“Bishop, this is Harley. The bank won’t let me cash my check. What the heck is going on over there?”
Another bad check. My stomach became a ball of tension because now I knew this wasn’t an isolated incident.
“I don’t know, Harley. Something must be going on with our account. Sit tight. Let me find out what’s going on, and I’ll call you right back.”
“Call me back, please, Bishop. I need my money. I gotta pay my rent.”
“I understand, Harley. I’ll call you right back.” I hung up the phone.
Tia took a deep breath, almost sounding relieved. “It wasn’t just me, was it?”
“It appears not.” I shook my head. “Listen, Tia, give me five minutes to make a couple of calls. I promise I’ll get to the bottom of this before you leave work today.”
As soon as Tia left the room, I picked up the phone and punched in Simone’s number at the dealership. If anyone was going to have the answers I needed, she would.
“Wilcox Motors, Simone Wilcox,” she answered.
“Hello, Simone. Bishop Wilson here.”
“Oh, Bishop. How are you doing?” The way she paused before she said it didn’t do much to ease the feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“I’m not doing well at all, Simone. People are having problems cashing their payroll checks. The bank says there are insufficient funds in our account. I can’t see that being possible, can you?”
I heard a catch in Simone’s voice. “Oh my, not to worry, Bishop. I’ve just got to transfer the money over to the payroll account.” She hesitated again, and my heartbeat kicked up a notch. “Tell them I’ll have everything taken care of by the morning.”
“By the morning? Simone, this is over a hundred peoples’ livelihoods we’re talking about. You should be able to do a transfer in fifteen minutes online.” My voice rose. I knew I sounded like I didn’t believe Simone, and in all honesty, a part of me didn’t. Something was wrong with this picture. We’d been taking in more money in the past two months than we had in the last six months combined. We should not have had this kind of problem.
“Okay, Bishop. I’ll take care of it as soon as possible,” she snapped back with a little more attitude than was befitting a trustee talking to her bishop.
“Take care of it now, Simone!”
I hung up the phone without saying good-bye. Before I could get up and go talk to Tia and assure her everything would be taken care of, Maxwell walked into my office and took his usual seat to the left of my desk. He looked perturbed.
“What’s the matter with you, Maxwell? Run out of Viagra?” I laughed, trying to lighten my own mood.
“You got a lot of angry people out there in reception. They’ve all gone to the bank and can’t get their money. They didn’t expect to have payless paydays at the church, and I can’t say I blame them. What the heck is going on?”
“Simone Wilcox is what happened.” I shook my head. “She said she forgot to transfer money into the payroll account.”
Maxwell shot me a funny look. “You believe that?”
“Not a word,” I replied.
I got up and closed my office door. I turned to Maxwell and spoke seriously. “I want you to do something on the Q.T.”
Maxwell nodded. “Sure. What do you need?”
“I want you to do an internal audit on the church’s books. I wanna know where every dime of our money has been spent. Turn over every stone. Nobody is beyond suspicion, including me.”
“Sure,
I can do that. No sweat. I’ve done audits on my company’s books a hundred times, so this should be a cinch. Matter of fact, I’ll bring in my accountant, Sherman. He’ll get to the bottom of this.”
“Great. Thanks,” I said. “Oh, and, Maxwell, be discreet. I don’t want this getting around the church. We don’t need another scandal on our hands.”
Simone
30
I was sitting in my office, drinking a glass of Moët, talking to Aaron on the phone and missing him like crazy. He’d been out of town at a choir competition for the past two days, and of course you know my baby won first prize. He’d just called to tell me he wouldn’t be in until late, so I probably wouldn’t see him tonight.
“I miss you,” I purred into the phone.
“Yeah, me too,” Aaron replied.
I knew it wasn’t the most ladylike thing to do, but I sought Aaron’s verbal affection every chance I got. I’m sorry, but my ego loved to be touched by him just as much as my body did. “What do you miss about me? Is it the way I look, or the way I wrap my legs around your neck when you’re on—”
“Simone.” His voice suddenly fell to a whisper. “Do we have to do this now? You do know that I’m on a bus with thirty people, don’t you?”
“So what? I want them to know you miss me and my kitty.” I took a sip of Mo, rolling the flavor of it on my tongue and around my mouth, then across my teeth. “You do miss us, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” he whispered.
“Yeah what?” I wanted him to say it. I needed him to say it. I had to be reminded in any way necessary that I still had some kind of control in this relationship—even if it meant acting out Destiny’s Child’s “Say My Name.”
“Yeah, I miss you … the both of you.” I pictured him biting his lip and wanting not to whisper when he said his next words: “Especially your kitty. All right?”
“Is that so?” One point for me. Let’s see if I could go for two. “So, tell me, Mr. Mackie, exactly what do you miss about my—”
I was interrupted by my secretary calling me on the intercom. “Simone, you have a visitor and—”
“Tell them to have a seat, Anita. I’ll be right out when I finish this call.” About five more seconds on the phone with Aaron and my hands would be down my panties. “As a matter of fact, Anita, see if someone else can help them.”
“But, Simone—”
Click. I hit the MUTE button on the intercom and returned to more pressing business.
“Now, where were we, Aaron?”
My hand was at the rim of my skirt when I heard, “At work, although it’s hard to tell from where I’m standing.”
I looked up, horrified. “Daddy!”
My father had taken it upon himself to walk right into my office without knocking. I closed my cell phone quickly and dropped it on my desk. I tried to hide the bottle of Moët, but it was too late. He had seen me slip it into my desk drawer.
“Don’t Daddy me,” he spat in that stern-father tone. “Since when did you start drinking on company time? And get your feet off my desk.”
I cleared my throat and straightened up. I had a little buzz, but I wasn’t drunk. I spoke in proper English. “Daddy, what are you doing here? I’m so happy to see you. What a surprise.”
“Surprise? Yeah, I’ll buy that. I don’t know how happy you’ll be when I get finished. Anyway, I want my check.” He eyeballed me fiercely. “Where is my check?”
I bumped myself upside the head with the edge of my palm, hoping it wasn’t too dramatic a touch. “Oh, Daddy, I’m so sorry. I really did forget. You wouldn’t believe all that’s been going on. But I’ll cut you that check right this minute.” I held up my index finger and went inside my purse like I was trying to find something. He took a seat on the small sofa. “Daddy, hold on one minute.”
With arms folded, he watched my every move. His mouth twisted to the side as I pulled out my pen and wrote a check.
“Here you go, Daddy.”
He took the check and studied it. “It’s two months now, not one.”
“Oh yeah, right.” I wrote him another check. “Okay, Daddy, all paid up.”
He took the second check. “It’s not paid up until these checks clear my bank.” Examining the checks again, he asked, “And why are you writing it out of your personal account instead of having accounting cut it?”
“Oh, um, just for convenience. Just don’t put them in until the end of the week, all right, Daddy?” I threw him the same smile that used to get me out of trouble when I was a little girl. Too bad it didn’t work the same way anymore.
“Don’t try to play games with me, young lady. I’m not stupid. I know you’re up to something. I want to see the quarterly reports.”
Damn it! Why did everybody suddenly want to see the books I was keeping? “Well, um, I’m not really sure if they’re complete. I had to get rid of Lisa Blackwell in accounting, and—”
“You got rid of Lisa?” He glared at me like I’d just fired my own mother.
“Yeah, I got rid of her. Her fat behind was making too much money, and she wasn’t doing her job.” Translation, she was talking to you too damn much. That suck-up bitch was telling my father everything that was going on around this place, like my father was the one cutting the paychecks. Her loyalty should have been to me. I was the one writing the checks, not to mention the time I allowed her to take off without even docking her vacation days. I didn’t give a damn if her husband did have cancer; I had to teach her and the rest of these ungrateful fools once and for all that you don’t bite the hand that feeds you, nor do you bite the hand that pointed your ass to the food!
“Simone …”
I could see him getting ready to explode like he had that time I smashed up his new Benz, or the time I went over the limit on my credit cards when I was a teenager. My heart was racing, and I could feel sweat starting to soak my silk blouse.
“Look, Daddy, let me explain the benefits of not having—”
“Surprise!”
My first thought was, Like I really need another damn surprise today! But then I looked toward the door to see who was there, and suddenly my mood brightened.
“Aha! You thought I was still in New Haven, didn’t you?” Aaron’s voice was more than just a welcome surprise. It was a breath of fresh air. It offered me much-needed relief from the situation at hand with my father. I could feel the walls closing in on me before I heard Aaron’s voice.
“Aaron, sweetheart!”
“Hey …” His words trailed off as he looked to my father. “Oh, am I interrupting something?” Aaron raised an eyebrow when my father frowned at him.
“No, no, perfect timing.” I walked over and grabbed Aaron by the arm. “Daddy, this is Aaron Mackie.” I pulled him a couple steps closer to my father. “Aaron, I want you to meet my father, Brian Wilcox. Daddy, Aaron went to the University of Virginia too.”
“So, you’re a UVA man.”
The frown that had been on my father’s face just seconds earlier disappeared. He jumped up and clasped Aaron’s hand in his. I’d never seen him do this to any other guy I’d ever introduced him to.
“Yes, sir, I’m a Cavalier through and through,” Aaron stated proudly.
“What year did you graduate?”
“Ninety-eight.”
“I left there in seventy-three.” Daddy beamed. “Simone, seems like a nice young man you have here.” He spoke to me but kept smiling at Aaron the entire time.
“Yes, he’s our new choir director at First Jamaica Ministries.” It was my turn to be proud about something.
“So, you’re the one I’ve heard so much about.” My father smiled broadly, showing some of his bridge work. “Bishop Wilson speaks highly of you.”
Aaron nodded. He was cocky when it came to women, but Aaron knew how to be humble when the situation called for it.
“Hey, instead of sitting here, let’s all go out to dinner—my treat,” Daddy offered. He turned to me. “I’ll look at those qu
arterly reports later.” He grabbed Aaron by the shoulder as the two exited my office.
I looked up to the ceiling and offered a quick, “Thank you, God,” before trailing behind them.
Aaron
31
We were at a Mexican restaurant somewhere in Long Island over by the Green Acres Mall. Simone, her father, and I had just enjoyed a great meal. Mr. Wilcox and I swapped some great stories about UVA, along with some laughs about Simone and her childhood. I was really starting to like the guy, and I think he was starting to like me.
“I can’t thank you enough for dinner, Mr. Wilcox,” I said, pushing away my plate. “I must admit that was the best Mexican food I’ve ever eaten. Probably couldn’t get any better if I was over in Mexico.”
“Not a problem, son. It was my pleasure. We UVA men have to stick together, you know.” Mr. Wilcox placed his napkin on his plate.
“Daddy used to bring me here all the time when I was younger for special occasions,” Simone added. “Like that time I was voted into student council, and when I got the lead in the school play.”
“That must have been nice.” I was impressed. From what I’d gathered from Simone, her father had spent most of his time building his company. I never pegged him as one to engage in daddy-daughter time. He was a true family man.
“Yep,” Mr. Wilcox confirmed. “There’s nothing more important than family. No matter how busy you are, you have to make time for the wife and kids.”
“It’s been awhile, though.” Simone glanced at her father, then took a bite of what was left of her food. “I mean, with you living in Florida and all.”
Wow, I could tell Simone missed spending time with her father.
“Well, that means you haven’t done anything worthy of me bringing you here, then, doesn’t it?” Mr. Wilcox shot back, surprising me. Simone wriggled in her chair uncomfortably, stuffing another forkful of food in her mouth. “That is, until now.”
He turned his head toward me and beamed a huge smile in my direction. I had no idea what was going on, but it appeared the two of them were talking in some type of code and I was the subject. I had to look over my shoulder to see if there was something amazing behind me, because there certainly wasn’t anything special about me. I hadn’t done anything other than just show up at Simone’s office and surprise her. Only reason I’d done that was because I was excited about our choir competition win and was looking for a little hot action under the sheets.