“Me? Oh, now I see what’s going on. She must not be taking your calls.”
“No, she’s not. She hasn’t been home since we saw her last.”
“Like I told you, they need to work their situation out on their own.”
“Well, what about our situation?” Payton asked, wanting to kick herself once the words left her lips. Tony didn’t answer immediately; instead, he let her question hang in the air. Why the hell had she asked that question? She wanted to kick herself.
“Can you come by my place later so we can talk?” she said, sounding uncomfortable. “There’s something I should explain to you about the other night.”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me. Why don’t you call the dude who was sucking your fingers and probably fucking you the other night?”
“Excuse me, what did you just say? You have a lot of damn nerve talking to me like that. You and I have never agreed to be anything more than being friends, and now you want to show your ass because you saw me with a friend. Ain’t that about a bitch? And for the record, you are absolutely right. The dude I was with the other night won’t have a problem feeding or fucking me.” She ended the call.
“Fuck him!” she yelled out loud.
* * *
An hour later Payton stood on the front lawn, watching the retreating backs of the investors as they sank into the plush leather seats of their waiting car. Engrossed in her thoughts, she didn’t notice the woman walking up behind her.
“Excuse me,” the woman said, stopping within inches of Payton, who turned around and took her inventory. The woman was wearing jeans, high-heeled boots, and a short, stylish fox-fur vest, all simple and understated but collectively put at least one comma on a sales receipt. Her hair was an arresting red and she wore a pair of oversize sunglasses that obscured her striking beauty. But she looked familiar to Payton, nonetheless.
“I’m looking for Lois Greene.”
Payton was overcome with feelings of deep apprehension. She hadn’t heard anyone say that name out loud in years, and the mere mention of it sent her heart into overdrive. “Did you say Lois Greene?”
“Yes. This is the last address I was given for her.”
“Well, there’s nobody here by that name. Did Lois win the lottery or something?”
“Or something,” the woman said, her face darkening with annoyance.
“Well, if I do see Ms. Greene around these parts, who shall I say stopped by?”
“You say Ms. Greene doesn’t live here, so I don’t think you’ll need to tell her anything.”
“Do I know you?” Payton interrupted, eyeing the woman suspiciously. “Who’d you say you were again?” she asked, knowing the woman hadn’t given her a name.
There was a brief silence.
“I didn’t say, and no, I’m afraid we’ve never met.” She turned on her heel and never looked back as she retraced her steps to the edge of the lawn. Payton followed, perplexed because she knew she’d seen this woman before but couldn’t place her. Recognition was standing between them like an elephant in the room. Except they weren’t in a room and the woman was retreating briskly to a light blue Saturn parked a few doors down.
The woman eased behind the wheel of her car and glanced in Payton’s direction one last time before driving away.
“Oh my God!” Payton roared as recognition set in. It was the woman from the karma.com pictures with Donathan. What the hell was she doing in Pittsburg? And what the hell did she want with Lois Greene?
CHAPTER 33
By the time Joi made it inside Starbucks, the rain had soaked her from head to toe. She took a seat at a small bistro table and took deep, cleansing breaths in an attempt to calm down and think rationally. John Coltrane’s saxophone was blaring “In a Sentimental Mood” through the sound system, but despite the music, all she could hear was a loop of Dr. Hardy’s voice saying, “You have chlamydia.” She’d gone in for a routine exam and came out with a fucking sexually transmitted disease. How in the hell does a married woman in a monogamous relationship end up with a goddamn sexually transmitted disease?
She could feel the blood rushing to her face as her eyes filled with tears and began sliding down her cheeks. She shifted from the hip where she’d been given a penicillin injection and dialed Tyrese’s office number again.
“Connie, is my husband available?” she asked, growing increasingly agitated.
“No, ma’am, he’s still in that meeting with the general manager, but as soon as he gets back to his office, I promise to tell him to phone you.”
Joi could tell by the way Connie emphasized the words still and promise that she’d grown tired of Joi’s barrage of phone calls. But she didn’t give a damn. She felt like driving to his office in East Oakland and personally disturbing the meeting herself. If there even was a meeting.
“You make sure you do that,” Joi hissed before she pressed the red button, sending the call into cell-phone oblivion. When she glanced up, several patrons were staring at her. With her lips twisted in an angry knot, she slammed her phone on the table and stared back.
“Are you okay?” asked an elderly woman who was dressed all in black, except for the hand-knitted raspberry beret tilted on her head.
“Mind your own damn business,” Joi muttered as she massaged her now-pounding temples. Please, God, help me, she chanted in her head as a comforting mantra. She’d heard horror stories of infidelity from a few moms from the boys’ playgroup, like the husband who’d arrived at the Oakland International Airport with his mistress only to find his wife waiting, and the husband who’d been caught in his master bedroom with another woman. She could even recall a few more, but she’d never heard of anyone catching an STD before. She was so confused and didn’t know what to do.
Marrying Tyrese had afforded her a very comfortable lifestyle, one she had no intention of giving up. Apart from that, she had her children to consider—the victims in this complicated situation. Well, complicated only because her fucking husband couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. From what Dr. Hardy had said, chlamydia was known as a silent disease because it wasn’t uncommon for women to go around without symptoms, and in some instances men didn’t have symptoms either. Joi couldn’t believe he’d been treated for something that serious and hadn’t told her. So, he had to be infected right now. He had to be confronted with the information she had.
She sighed heavily, feeling desperate because she really didn’t have any concrete evidence of Tyrese’s infidelity. And just like that, another thought occurred to her: Why was she sitting here acting like a victim? For once in her life she held all the cards, with her ace of spades being the chlamydia. She knew the chick he was fucking and where she lived. Feeling a rush of courage, she hesitated only briefly before she typed the words moving company into her iPhone. Once the screen filled up, she scrolled down the listing and picked one: Allied Movers.
Ten minutes later, clutching her raincoat around her, Joi hurried out of Starbucks. “Fucking bastard,” she spat as she got into her SUV and headed home. She felt dirty and humiliated. What Tyrese had done sickened her—fooling around with some dirty whore—but she’d finally conjured up the nerve to do what she needed to do. She was leaving his ass.
By the time Joi made it home she was feeling pretty damned pleased with herself. The feeling lasted until she entered the home office; then all at once it seemed like the room was closing in on her, even more so with the picture of Tyrese and the boys staring back at her. With shaking hands, she opened the desk drawer, retrieved the credit card they used only to pay household bills, and dialed the movers she’d contacted before she’d left Starbucks.
“Now, are you sure you can finish this job by five o’clock today?” she asked after completing the credit card transaction. It was ten a.m. and she believed in the less-is-more philosophy when it came to furnishings. She didn’t know where she would eventually land just yet, but she would place the furniture in storage and she and the boys would stay with
her mom until she worked out a plan.
“Absolutely, ma’am,” the guy on the phone responded. “The truck and the men are on their way.”
“Good. Because I want them to pack up everything.”
* * *
Tyrese exited the executive wing, stunned by the events that had transpired. Effective immediately, he’d been placed on administrative leave due to a sexual harassment complaint. Debbie had called him last night, asking for more money. She had threatened that he’d be sorry if he continued to ignore her, but he hadn’t taken her seriously. Obviously a huge mistake. He stopped walking and stared at Debbie. She sported a new blond-colored weave; his gray eyes flashed danger. She’d cost him enough. Four punctured tires and twelve hundred dollars were plenty for that world-class blow job. She’d willingly sucked him dry, but now her ghetto ass was determined to screw everything up.
He spun on his soles and took long, deliberate strides toward his office. Before he reached his door his secretary called out to him.
“Excuse me, Mr. White, your wife called multiple times and—”
“Not now, Connie,” he snapped, moving past her and slamming his office door behind him. His job would be in limbo for the next seven days while they investigated her claim.
“Fucking devious bitch,” he muttered, pulling back the leather chair behind his desk and sitting down. When he picked up his cell phone he experienced a twinge of guilt as he noted the numerous missed calls from Joi. How would he explain his involuntary leave to her? He could continue to get up every morning and leave the house like he was going to work, but as much as Joi called him every day, that didn’t seem like a good idea. He tossed around a few different scenarios before settling on a plan that would work.
With a few clicks on his keyboard, he purchased two tickets on Southwest Airlines’ web site and made a hotel reservation at the Wynn Las Vegas. He knew his troubles were far from over, but an impromptu getaway was definitely going to buy him some time—at least a little.
After stopping by The Den for some liquid courage and thinking about it for a few hours, Tyrese had an epiphany. Outside of having Debbie maimed or killed, the only thing he could do was come clean to Joi. He’d been a fool to think any amount of money was going to shut that bitch up. And even if the investigation came back in his favor, Debbie seemed like the kind who’d show up on his doorstep.
When Joi found out he’d cheated on her she would go ballistic, but eventually she’d get over it. Infidelity was a rite of passage in a marriage. Every man did it. It wasn’t like she’d leave him or anything; after all, he was the best thing that ever happened to her. He had it all figured out. While they were in Vegas, he’d give her some extra-good loving and then tell her everything. Well, not everything. He wasn’t a fool. He didn’t have to come clean about all his indiscretions—just this one.
When he pulled into his driveway, he was surprised to see the house completely dark. It was eight o’clock and Joi knew he didn’t like her keeping the kids out this late. He opened the garage, pulled his truck into his designated stall, and killed the engine.
Once he stepped out of the car, he felt lighter, as if a weight had been lifted. But when he opened the door leading into the house from the garage, he immediately noticed the washer and dryer were missing and became annoyed. He’d told Joi over and over again that all major purchases needed to be fully discussed with him before she made any decisions, and especially before she made the actual purchase.
“When she gets home, we are definitely going to have a frank discussion about this,” he mumbled.
When Tyrese switched on the lights in the family room, his heart rate accelerated. Where the hell was all the furniture? Instinct took over, and without delay, he moved to the kitchen, then the living room and finally the home office, finding them all empty. Had someone hurt his family? Overcome with fear and confusion, the first thing on his mind was trying to reach Joi. He took out his cell phone and hit Speed Dial. She answered on the second ring.
“Baby, we’ve been robbed,” Tyrese began.
“Robbed? Pu-lease,” she repeated angrily. “Being robbed is the least of your worries, especially because my main concern is how I contracted fucking chlamydia. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
“What?” he asked, the buzz from his after-work drinks now gone. His mind was in overdrive, trying to process what she’d said. Did she just say she had chlamydia? That was impossible. Always careful, he’d never had sex outside his marriage without a condom. Debbie was the last person he’d been with, and they’d only had oral sex, but he didn’t use a condom for that. Other than that, he never dipped his stick anywhere without a raincoat. That was totally out of the question. He didn’t have chlamydia, so how the fuck did she get it? There was only one answer. Maybe he wasn’t the only one creeping.
“Maybe you better start with whoever you’re fucking because I don’t have chlamydia,” he said, his voice booming with anger.
“Don’t even go there. Besides, I saw you with that whore the other night at that blues club; from the looks of things, she’s probably the one who gave it to you. Or shall I say us, you nasty son of a bitch? I also saw the private detective I hired talking to you.”
“Joi, wait,” Tyrese sputtered, feeling like he’d been gut punched. Joi was furious, and he knew now wasn’t the time to try to convince her this was all a big misunderstanding. He needed to calm her down, keep her from making any more rash decisions, like emptying out the entire house.
“Wait for what? For you to try to turn this shit around on me? I don’t think so. All I want is a divorce, and as you can already see, I don’t want half. I’m taking everything.”
CHAPTER 34
Donathan jerked to an upright position, spilling the contents of the dossier onto the floor. He’d been up off and on all night, and as much as he believed Sydney needed to make the decision to come home on her own, he now had the proof he needed to help her with her decision.
Yesterday, Holsey had given him a brief report on Austyn Greene, which included an address in Oakland. She’d only been in the Bay Area for three months, but the things he’d read didn’t explain why she was there and what she wanted with him. Once he settled this thing with Sydney, he would pay Austyn a visit.
Having slept in his jeans, he slipped on a black cashmere sweater, gathered the contents of the file from the floor, grabbed his car keys, and headed for the front door. He had contemplated phoning Sydney but decided against it, feeling the element of surprise would work in his favor. Once he’d learned she wasn’t staying at Payton’s, he’d called the credit card company and learned she was staying at the Waterfront. He’d had enough of her rebellion and his plan was simple: He’d wait outside the hospital until she emerged and follow her back to her hotel room to retrieve her things and to settle this business about Austyn once and for all.
By the time Donathan pulled his Mercedes into the parking lot of Children’s Hospital, he was a few minutes late for the shift change. He wheeled into an empty parking space closest to the physicians’ exit, hoping he hadn’t missed her. He scanned the parking lot and noticed her Range Rover tucked away in the back row.
A light tap on the passenger’s side window startled him.
“Excuse me, sir, but you can’t park here. This lot is reserved for physicians only.”
He rolled down the window and leaned across the center console to get a better look at the security guard’s name tag. “Good morning, Albert,” Donathan said, noticing a flicker of recognition cross the man’s face. “It’s been a while, but I’m—”
“The sex doctor,” Albert finished, extending his hand through the window to shake Donathan’s hand.
“Yes, I am.” Donathan stifled a laugh. This was the second time he had been recognized by hospital security. First at Alta Bates and now here.
“Albert, I wanted to sit here and wait for Dr. James to get off work. But if it’s a problem, I can pull onto the st
reet and wait there.”
“It’s not a problem at all if I can get an autograph.” Albert grinned. “But Dr. James left about ten minutes ago.”
“Are you sure? I see her truck’s still parked in the back row,” Donathan said as he reached into the glove box to remove a 5 x 7 glossy.
At that moment the door to the hospital opened and Dr. Julia Stevens, a tall, fortysomething woman with fire-red hair came out. “Albert, have you seen Dr. Day?” she said sharply.
“Yes, ma’am. He left with Dr. James about ten minutes ago. I think I heard them mention something about Lois the Pie Queen.”
“Thanks,” Julia said, her eyes darting back and forth, as if she were adding up something in her head. “Those two sure seem to be spending an awful lot of time together,” she added before she tossed her tote bag over her shoulder and walked away.
Donathan’s first inclination had been to just go to the Waterfront Hotel and wait for Sydney there. But he hadn’t expected to hear that his wife had left the hospital with a he, and what did the redhead mean by, “Those two sure seem to be spending an awful lot of time together.” Poised with a Sharpie, he glanced up at Albert, who looked as if he’d intercepted his thoughts.
“Yeah, she was headed over to Lois the Pie Queen.”
“Anybody special I should make this out to?” Donathan managed to ask.
“Your friend, Albert.” He grinned.
Donathan scribbled on the picture and handed it to him.
“Thanks, Dr. James,” he said, admiring the inscription. “And I want to apologize for Dr. Stevens’s rudeness. She’s a miserable woman who tries to make everyone else miserable right along with her.”
“It’s cool, man. Don’t worry about it.” Donathan smiled, feigning to be unaffected by the comments, although he couldn’t wait to get out of there. He needed to get to Lois the Pie Queen to see with his own eyes what was going on.
Gripping the steering wheel, Donathan exited the parking lot; his size thirteens jammed on the accelerator. His jaw tightened as he maneuvered the car toward 60th Street. Was this Dr. Day the reason Sydney hadn’t returned his calls all week? Blinded by a sudden rush of jealousy, Donathan couldn’t think straight. The last thing his wife needed right now was a shoulder to cry on. He knew that game all too well and had played it many times himself. And if the doctor was good, then a week was more than enough time to seal the deal. He looked over at the file folder sprawled across his passenger seat. Austyn Greene would have to wait. His wife was spending time with another man; that definitely was his first priority.
Dangerous Consequences Page 18