Okay, pity party over. I’d given myself thirty minutes to wallow in it, and now I had to get up and dust myself off. Plus, I had to buy a dress for the party. I was going to do something off the rack, but now I was thinking Chanel.
I had to look like we were winning, even if we weren’t.
Chapter 47
TWILA
From my hiding spot on one of the hills in our subdivision, I watched as the movers packed up Alexander Adams and his family’s belongings. The FOR SALE sign was in the yard, just as I’d instructed, and they were soon going to be gone. Alexander had probably already hit the road. If I was him, I’d already be in the wind.
I felt peace wash over me, but it was incomplete. In the back of my mind, I kept thinking that wherever Alexander Adams went he might very well rape another woman. But I knew that I couldn’t get him prosecuted without any victims willing to come forward. That was the only piece that was missing. He was still free to perpetrate another crime.
But I had to let that go. Even if I did follow through with my threat to tell the pastor, Fatima was going to lie. I could see it in her eyes. She liked her life and didn’t want to end up back on the streets.
There was nothing I could do to put him behind bars.
Away from me would have to be enough. I would make it enough.
I looked down at the time on my phone. DeAndre was coming to my house for breakfast. I hadn’t entertained in my own space in months. I hadn’t had a man over since Marcus the Instagram thot. This was a next step.
I climbed back into my car and drove down the hill to the other side of the subdivision where I resided. I resisted the urge to look over my shoulder as I pulled into the garage. I didn’t need to do that anymore. The danger had passed.
Inside my kitchen, I arranged the items that Katie had prepared for our breakfast. Shrimp and grits, sous vide eggs, little bagels with smoked salmon, cream cheese and capers, and miniature fried chicken and waffles bites.
The doorbell rang, and I jumped. I forced myself to breathe slowly and calm down. I peeked through the peephole and it was DeAndre. He had roses and a bottle of Prosecco. Mimosas on tap.
I swung the door open and hugged him as he stepped over the threshold. Then, I quickly closed the door behind him and locked all three locks. My hands shook as I fumbled over the locks.
“Are you sure you’re ready to move back home?” DeAndre asked. “You can come and stay with me if you don’t want to go back to Hahna’s. You can have your own room and everything. No pressure.”
“I appreciate you for that, DeAndre, but I have to do this. I have to take my power back. If I don’t, I’m going to be afraid for the rest of my life.”
He nodded. “I understand. Just know that the offer always stands. You can show up at two in the morning if you want. I’ll always answer.”
DeAndre was incredible. He was a gift and he kept on giving. I wanted to skip right over breakfast and take him to bed.
“Let’s make mimosas and you can give me the tour of your house,” DeAndre said. “What I see so far is very impressive.”
“Nothing like your mansion, but I love it. I picked out every feature while it was being built.”
I grabbed the orange juice, two glasses, and went to my dining room bar, because we needed Grand Marnier for mimosas. I set the glasses down and started to make our drinks and DeAndre sat on my armchair. Then, I realized that it was the chair with my pistol underneath the cushion. I didn’t want my new man sitting on the pistol.
“Wait, don’t sit there,” I said.
“Why not?”
Instead of responding, I went to the chair, lifted the cushion and set the pistol on the lamp table next to the chair.
“Whoa. Weaponry,” DeAndre said.
“Yeah. It’s all over the house. I guess I need to purge some of this stuff.”
“There’s nothing wrong with having things to protect your home.”
“I might have too much.”
“Well, why don’t you show me. We can purge it now.”
My lip trembled and I felt the tears start, but I nodded in agreement. It was time to purge.
I walked over to the sofa, and lifted the middle cushion, and took out a machete. I set that on the floor in front of the sofa. Then, I got on my knees and reached under the sofa. I pulled out the brass knuckles and knife taped there. Next, I walked over to the standing lamp and reached under the lampshade. From there I pulled out a switchblade.
I looked at DeAndre to see his reaction. He hadn’t flinched.
“Is that all in here?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Then let’s go to the next room,” he said.
DeAndre followed me all over my house, to every room, while I removed nearly one hundred fifty weapons from hiding places. In my bedroom, I had thirty different items including six guns and a sword. It was beyond excessive. It was obsessive and compulsive. If Dr. Mays had known about this, I might’ve gotten that prescription medication that I sometimes thought I needed.
About halfway through the purging, DeAndre helped me make a pile of weapons in the living room. One by one, we unloaded the guns, put the bullets in boxes and placed them in the middle of the floor.
I think I’d lost count of how much stuff I’d bought. I knew where everything was, but once I’d gotten past fifty weapons my mind stopped adding to the number in my mental inventory. Maybe something in my mind was trying to protect me. Trying to help me hold onto my sanity.
When we were done, we just stared for a moment looking at the pile.
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” DeAndre said. “You could’ve killed a crew of assassins.”
“For some reason, even though I’m not a drug kingpin, I thought the assassins were coming.”
“So, which one gun do you want to keep? I think you should have one. You’re a woman who lives alone, and clearly you know how to use it.”
I didn’t even have to think twice about this question. I needed my Glock. I loved how it felt in my hand, and it was what I used to get Alexander Adams out of my life for good.
“How about my Glock, and my taser.”
“You need more than one?”
“Well, I’m killing someone with the Glock. A taser will incapacitate a fool, but they can live to stand trial.”
DeAndre laughed. “Okay. You should keep both.”
“How do I even get rid of the rest? I feel like if I showed up at a police precinct with all this, they’d arrest me on principle until they could run ballistics on all the guns.”
“True story. But your boyfriend’s an entertainment attorney who dabbles in criminal defense. I know a couple of police officers who’ll take them off your hands. I can make a few calls.”
“Thank you.”
DeAndre stepped over the arsenal and walked to the kitchen. “Let’s have breakfast. I’m starving.”
I took a tissue from the box on the coffee table and wiped away any remaining snot bubbles. Then, I followed my man into the kitchen. The peace that washed over me was now complete.
“Let’s talk about this Jamaica trip,” DeAndre called from the kitchen. “Are we flying first class or what?”
And with one question, DeAndre let me know that this compulsion I had, hadn’t scared him off. Nothing I told him about my flaws had made him run away. He’d seen all my good qualities and decided that they were worth having in his life, and because of that I yearned to have him too.
He felt perfect, but I knew he wasn’t. I knew that some flaw would emerge, and that I would give him side eye. Like maybe he flicked toenails across the room (dear God no, please don’t let him do that), but I wasn’t going to flinch, just like he hadn’t.
I thought I’d give Dr. Mays a call and let her know I was stopping my therapy for a while. She would leave the light on for me though in case I ever needed to come back.
Hahna’s party was going to be fun. It would be our coming out party to Atlanta’s elite. We were the n
ext power couple that no one knew about yet. Maybe I’d start taking those calls from those cable network reality shows.
Then, I glanced back at the pile of weapons, and thought better of it.
Chapter 48
KIMBERLY
Ron walked into the bedroom with his bow tie hanging around his neck. Kimberly beamed with pride at how delicious her dimpled man looked in a tux.
“Are you almost ready?” Ron asked. “We’ll need to get going soon if we don’t want to get stuck in the weekend traffic.”
“Yes, I am almost ready. I’m just nervous.”
Kimberly looked in the mirror and admired her green sequined dress. She’d lost twenty pounds, not that anyone would notice, but she felt good about it. It wasn’t her look that she was nervous about though.
“Can you tie my tie for me?”
Ron stood close to Kimberly and she expertly looped the fabric. “You smell good.”
“You do too,” Ron said. “But tell me what’s wrong. What are you nervous about?”
“I’ve invited a few people to this party. The partners at my former law firm, a board member from Atlanta General Hospital, and a few others. I hope that they show up for Hahna.”
“You’re always trying to save someone,” Ron said. “It’s not your job to save the day all the time.”
“I know it’s not. But if I can help, I have to do something. Do you know how much Hahna has been a force multiplier for CurlPop? Twila too, and she doesn’t even wear her hair natural. They made sure to shout me out anytime they had the opportunity.”
“Gamma Phi Gamma showed up and showed out for Hahna too.”
“Yeah, but the sorors have already moved on. After that initial push, they’re onto the next mission. They haven’t stayed the course.”
“Okay, I will hope with you that your efforts haven’t been in vain and that all of the people you invited show up. But you can’t hold yourself responsible if nothing happens. If she can’t recover in the next six months or so, Hahna might need to start thinking about how she can go back to corporate.”
“No. She’s the one who convinced me to launch out on my own. I won’t let this happen to her.”
Ron kissed Kimberly and then kissed her again. She knew those kisses were to turn the page on the conversation. But Ron didn’t understand how strongly Kimberly felt about this. He didn’t realize that she’d never leave Hahna behind.
They showed up to the party right before the start time, and Kimberly was psyched at the number of cars lined up for the valet. The worst thing that could happen to an Atlanta businessperson was for them to throw a party and no one show up.
“Looks like she got a good turnout,” Ron said.
“Let’s hope that means she’ll get some new accounts.”
Inside the party, Kimberly and Ron mingled with the guests, some of whom Kimberly knew, some she didn’t. It was a networking party, so she proudly introduced Ron to the movers and shakers in Atlanta. The upper echelon. Where the money lived, and the deals were made.
When Kimberly saw Hahna, she waved from across the room, but Hahna beckoned them over. When she got closer, Kimberly realized why. Hahna was talking to one of Kimberly’s favorite customers, a woman named Renita Chalmers. She’d won the lottery a decade ago in another state and had been secretly funding ventures in theatre and music. She called herself philanthropic, but really, she was trying to buy her way onto the A-list. It wasn’t an impossibility in Atlanta. Checks spoke louder than credentials at times.
Kimberly wondered why Hahna was wasting time on Renita. She wasn’t a potential client for The Data Whisperers.
Kimberly and Hahna shared hugs and kisses, and the men shared fist bumps.
“Kimberly you already know Renita, but I’d like you both to meet her date, William Bottoms. He’s a managing partner at Yorkshire, Summerall, and Schmidt.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, William,” Kimberly said. “Renita, you and I need to catch up. I didn’t know you were on the dating scene again.”
William laughed. “I, for one, am glad you didn’t know she was dating. That gave me a chance to shoot my shot.”
Kimberly giggled at the thought of this little sixty-something trying to shoot his shot at Renita. Ron smiled heartily and shared a few words with William while Kimberly tried to read Hahna’s facial expressions. She had a smile on her face, and that’s all that Kimberly needed to see.
“Ron and I are going to work the room,” Kimberly said. “Renita, let’s definitely link up later.”
Kimberly dragged Ron to the other side of the room and got both of them drinks off a tray being passed around the room. She could barely contain her excitement as she sipped the strong mixed drink.
“It’s happening. Can you tell?” Kimberly asked Ron.
“What’s happening.”
“Black girl magic. It’s floating all through this room. Hahna’s walking out of here with money, I tell you. And a restored business.”
“Well, wasn’t this party Sam’s idea?” Ron asked.
“It was.”
“Then, I will say that it’s some black boy magic that caused this. Y’all can’t just be claiming everything.”
Kimberly tilted her head back and hollered. But she didn’t argue with Ron. It didn’t matter where this magic originated, it was here. Hahna was going to be all right and The Data Whisperers would be back.
Kimberly felt proud of herself and of Sam. They’d fixed the fixer. When Hahna figured that out, she was going to marvel at it, but by then she’d probably be off to fix Kimberly’s or Twila’s next catastrophe.
Oh, wait. It would be Kimberly’s, of course. They still had a whole wedding to execute.
Chapter 49
HAHNA
There was always a risk in asking Samantha to host the bridal shower at the church. The danger was that it would be a holy and sanctified event that wasn’t any fun. As I looked at the decorations in the church’s fellowship hall, I was sure that the risk had been realized.
The theme was a tea party, and everyone was supposed to wear their fanciest tea party hat. What it looked like from the doorway was the Mother’s Day brunch at church where the children gave their mothers roses and the men’s ministry made runny eggs and cold grits.
It was well-attended though, so that was something. All of Kimberly’s singles’ ministry friends were there, and some of the women’s ministry. They were all wearing pastels even though it was wintertime. The closest I could come to the Easter egg foolishness that I saw in this room was wearing a winter white sweater dress.
Twila walked in right behind me and gasped. She didn’t even do it quietly like I had.
“Shhh!” I fussed, but Twila just sucked her teeth and shook her head.
“What the heck? Is this the scholarship brunch, Easter morning, or a women’s convention?”
“We said we weren’t going to do this, remember? We’re going to support the event, because we’re making Samantha feel like a valued bridesmaid.”
“I don’t value this. Not at all,” Twila said.
“Come on girl. Let’s go sit down.”
We sat at the bridesmaid’s table, although I was tempted to take a seat near the door so we could escape when we’d had enough.
Who was I kidding? I’d already had enough, and I’d just arrived.
I pulled my phone out of my purse when I sat, so that I wouldn’t accidentally make eye contact with any of the church members. It was too early on Saturday for me. Sam and I had gone out the night before, and my eyes were still red from the Hennessy. I would have it out of my system by Sunday morning, and that was usually good enough.
Since I was bored, I went to the local Atlanta gossip blog to see what shenanigans Atlanta’s D-list was getting into.
“Twila,” I said when I saw a huge headline on my favorite site. “Look at this. Isn’t this the pastor at that church?”
“What pastor at what church?” she asked as she took the phone from
my hands.
Twila read the page and her jaw dropped. I knew it was the pastor from the church Alexander Adams had attended.
“Both Pastor Wright and parishioner Alexander Adams have been arrested on charges of human sex trafficking and multiple counts of rape stemming from allegations from several women taking part in their church’s homeless ministry operation. Wright was arrested on the church grounds, and Adams was apprehended in Tallahassee, Florida. They are both being held without bail while awaiting jury trial.”
“Who do you think pressed charges?” I asked. “Do you think the wife finally came to her senses?”
“I don’t know, but this is the best news ever. I felt free enough to throw out all my weapons, but now I could just literally fly across this room I feel so light.”
“You got rid of your arsenal?”
“Yep. DeAndre helped me too.”
“He must really be digging you if he saw all that and stayed with you.”
“He sure is digging me, and I’m digging him right back. He got us first class tickets to Jamaica. You and Sam should upgrade your flight.”
“Sam would get so mad at me for buying first class tickets. He’s way too thrifty for that.”
“Has he ever flown first class though? I think if he flies first class just once, he’ll be won over.”
“Maybe.”
“That settles it. We’re going to get an upgrade at the airport. I know some people who know some people.”
I laughed. A free upgrade might not be enough to convince Sam to splurge in the future, but Twila wouldn’t understand, so I didn’t try to explain.
Twila pointed at the gift table. “Now what do you think are in those big ole boxes over there?”
“Definitely not lingerie.”
“I’m going with crock pots and air fryers,” Twila said. “As if Kimberly doesn’t have all of that in her house.”
“Uh oh. The rest of the bridesmaid posse is in the house.”
Debbie, Traci, and Abena walked in as a trio. The befuddlement on their faces was hilarious.
All the Things I Meant to Tell You Page 29