“Hi, this is Fancy. Let me speak with Tanya.”
“Tanya’s at work. And you woke me up so don’t call us before five o’clock. P.M.”
Us? Before five what? “Who in the hell are you?”
“This is Tanya’s man, William. I don’t want you single females makin’ a bad impression on my woman. Tanya’s got a real man now. She ain’t goin’ to no clubs, malls, or anywhere else without my permission. You got that?” William slammed the phone so hard Fancy grabbed her ear.
Oh, hell no! His ass done moved in and took over in less than eight weeks. Fancy hit her speaker button twice. Her second phone line rang. She hesitated before answering, “Good morning, Harry.”
“Can I see you in my office?” Harry didn’t wait for a response. Through her rectangular-shaped window, Fancy saw Harry smiling and closing his blinds. His office window was directly across from hers.
Fancy unbuttoned her coat and secured the loop over the brass hook behind her door. Her hips swayed as she entered Harry’s office. “Good morning, baby.” Fancy locked his door and unbuttoned her blouse with ease. It was their morning routine.
“Come here,” Harry commanded, palming her breasts with his short stubby fingers.
Fancy rubbed his short wooly afro. Harry’s lips suctioned over her nipple.
“Oh, I need some cream to go with my coffee this morning. I missed you this weekend. We’re going to have to start taking weekend trips again. Unbutton your pants. I need to taste you.”
Fancy pushed Harry’s head away and buttoned her blouse. Now that she’d met Byron she was no longer interested in pleasing Harry. And since she had to wean Harry eventually, she might as well start now. Harry switched seats from his high-back office recliner to his armless computer chair. He rolled up close, tossed his tie over his shoulder, and eagerly fumbled to unfasten Fancy’s belt.
Fancy moved his hands and refastened her belt. Harry’s unwillingness to commit to marriage had demoted him to sponsor-only status. Soon he’d become a nonbeneficiary sponsor because after today she was permanently cutting Harry off from Miss Kitty. Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays were now exclusively reserved for Byron. Fancy pushed Harry away again.
“I have work to do, Mr. Washington.”
“Your job is to keep Harry happy,” he said, looking at his erection.
“Do not pull him out,” Fancy said, pointing at the bulge in Harry’s gray slacks. “I’m warning you. I’m opening the door.”
Fancy glanced at Harry’s file cabinet. The key was seldom in the lock. It was now. For months she’d tried getting into his personal files. Harry’s ten-thirty meeting was fifteen minutes away. Fancy relocked the door and pleased Harry so good he started panting, barely catching his breath before answering his phone.
“Whew,” he exhaled, then picked up the receiver. “Yes, Allyanna,” he paused, then said, “Oh, shit! Allyanna, I lost track of the time. Go ahead and start the meeting. I’ll be there in two minutes,” Harry said, buckling his belt. He motioned to Fancy to stand behind the door. “Get yourself together. And make sure you call Mrs. Lovely about her apartment repairs ASAP. Oh, yeah. And schedule a meeting for Monday afternoon with Ray Leon at the City of Oakland regarding my mixed-use development on Harrison Street.”
Mixed use? Fancy knew if she was serious about learning the industry she had to understand the terminology. Mixed use. She repeated the words in her head several times.
“Sure. I’ll clear my calendar and I can accompany you to City Hall.”
“No, Allyanna will be there. Your job is to look pretty and, of course”—Harry fluttered his eyebrows and eyed his erection—“to keep Harry happy. And Harry is very happy this morning.” He closed his jacket and then shut the door.
Harry needed to lay off the viagra. What was he going to do when he turned forty? Determined to learn the real estate business, even if she had to teach herself, Fancy locked the door and opened Harry’s personal file drawer. Her fingertips glided across the tabs. Medical. She pulled out the folder and read his policy. Family coverage? “What the hell?” Fancy whispered, then retrieved the folder marked Taxes. She cursed as she read Harry’s filing status. Joint? Exhaling she said, “Damn,” and opened his Suspense file. A short “humph,” was accompanied by a shot of hot air escaping her nostrils. Tuition? She thumbed through his personal budget. She was in the top five on his list, a one thousand dollar monthly bonus was allocated in addition to the fifteen hundred dollars Harry paid her every two weeks. The thousand dollars barely covered her tax, medical, and dental deductions.
Dental. Family? Liabilities. Assets. Condos. The place Harry called home where he’d taken her once was nowhere on his list of assets. Fancy took a deep breath and held it. Primary residence. Her lungs deflated as she whispered, “Sacramento? Not Marina Heights in San Francisco.” Her eyes widened. She thought all Harry owned were six single-family homes and several apartment buildings.
Fancy scanned the prior months’ budgets. Allyanna was on his list along with all the other women in the office. He must have been fucking them, too. She kicked the file cabinet and scuffed her new boots. “Aw, shit!” Fancy squinted. She rubbed her thumb over Harry Jr.’s tuition. Sarah’s tuition. And Michael’s day care? Fancy flopped in Harry’s chair and waited for his return.
Why was Harry so secretive? Fancy heard Harry’s keys jiggling inside the lock and raced behind the door. When he stepped inside Fancy slammed the door so hard it sprang back. She stood two inches from his face and asked, “What is your marital status! What are your living arrangements! And exactly how many kids do you have!”
Harry reared back, closed his door, and spoke low but firm, “What the hell are you talking about?” Harry glanced at the files scattered on his desk. “Please tell me you did not go through my files.” He stared at Fancy, then grabbed her biceps, pulling her close. “Answer me, dammit. Did you go through my personal files?”
Peeling his fingers away, Fancy said, “You liar! How could you?” She forced fake tears that streamed down her cheeks. “I hate you! I hate you! Liar! Liar!”
“Stop yelling.” Harry fanned the air in front of Fancy’s face. “Let me explain. Okay. Yes, I do have a wife.”
Fancy didn’t realize she was frowning until he started frowning, too. Harry exhaled, then bit his bottom lip. Fancy remained silent and stared at Harry.
“Listen. I’m not in love with her anymore. But I can’t afford to divorce her right now because we have too many investments. Finances. Children. Property”—then he shrugged, laughed and added, “and a dog. His name is Buster.”
Fancy hysterically leaped from the chair, “Buster! Buster! Mutherfucka! That’s not funny!” She wanted to let the real Fancy Taylor drop-kick his ass but she had to keep her psycho personality under wraps. Plus, Fancy had earned her monthly bonus and had every intention of getting paid with no intent of ever laying his lying ass again.
Harry responded between tight lips, “Don’t curse me.” Then he stepped toward her and said, “Look. Let’s discuss this over lunch.”
Fancy stepped back. “Why don’t you invite the other women in the office, too? We can have an orgy.”
Harry’s lips curled upward. He cupped his hand over his mouth and said, “Hum,” raising his eyebrows.
Fancy punched Harry on the shoulder.
“I’m kidding. Lighten up. I told you we can discuss this over lunch.”
“There’s nothing to discuss.” When Fancy opened the door, everyone was huddled at Allyanna’s desk.
“Get back to work before I fire all of you!” Harry yelled.
Fancy slammed her door and dialed the number she’d memorized from Harry’s file. She pressed 9-1-6 . . . and waited.
“Hello?” A woman answered.
Fancy smiled to perk up her voice. “Hello, Mrs. Washington?”
“Yes, this is Mrs. Washington,” she responded.
“I don’t believe this shit. I’ve been fucking Harry for two years. Two. Years. Ly
ing ass muthafucka.”
“Excuse me,” the woman said.
Fancy placed the receiver on the base and took the rest of the day off.
CHAPTER 10
Today was “Bring Your Child to Work” day and since Fancy didn’t have any kids, she borrowed her neighbor’s dog. Buddy was a perfectly groomed miniature schnauzer with a shiny black coat and a long beard. Glancing in the mirror, Fancy admired the pinstriped miniskirt suit Steven had bought. Her cinnamon open-toe sling-back shoes matched her stripes. Fancy placed Buddy in her workout bag, stored his container of chicken strips in the side pocket, and headed to the BART station.
Peeping inside the bag she said, “Promise me you’ll be quiet so we don’t get kicked off the train.”
Instead of parking at Lake Merritt, Fancy drove to West Oakland. That way they only had to ride two train stops. Buddy squirmed around in the bag.
A masculine-looking woman with a deep voice asked, “You wanna sit down?”
“No, thanks,” Fancy replied, avoiding eye contact.
Closing her book the woman asked with disbelief, “Is that a dog?”
“Yes!” Fancy eyed the woman’s wedding band and sarcastically commented, “I see you have one, too.” Fancy smiled and teased Buddy’s long eyebrows.
“Huh. What?” The woman silently faced the window. Since the train was traveling under the bay, there was nothing to see except concrete walls.
As soon as Fancy exited the station, she let Buddy trot several blocks uphill to the office. Harry had left for his early morning flight to New York, and he’d locked his door, so she made an about-face and slipped into her office. Fancy scrolled through the on-line yellow pages and dialed the florist. “Yes, I’d like to order the largest bleeding heart you have.”
“Are you sure you want to order our largest? It’s awfully big and very expensive. Four hundred and fifty dollars.” The woman listened then said, “Okay. Which mortuary would you like us to deliver to?”
Fancy rattled off Harry’s home address in Sacramento.
“Okay, what would you like on the banner?”
“Put R. I. P., Henrietta Washington.” Fancy billed the expense to Harry’s account.
Harry had promised to promote her to property supervisor as soon as a position became available. Fancy suddenly realized as long as she kept Harry happy, Harry would tell her whatever he thought she wanted to hear. His firm owned thirty-six apartment complexes in the Bay Area and managed another forty-eight properties across the country—not the few properties he’d led her to believe. Why would Harry lie about how many properties he owned? One day Fancy would own and manage properties, too. Harry made it seem easy. Always flying off somewhere every week. His flight to New York City was scheduled to leave in thirty minutes from San Francisco International Airport. Fancy loved New York and although Harry had invited her to go, he canceled her reservation after she went through his files. Byron had canceled her trip, too, but hadn’t said why.
Fancy had bigger and better plans. Since Harry wouldn’t teach her about property management, she decided she’d learn on her own. She looked at her E-mail task list, picked up the phone, and called her favorite tenant. Mrs. Lovely always had a complaint.
“Good morning, Mrs. Lovely. This is Fancy Taylor with Washington and Associates property management. How can I help you?”
“Baby. The man came out to fix my commode last week but it’s leaking again. And there’s a hole in the flo’ next to the commode. Oh, yeah, and it’s done come aloose. I practically fell in the waduh this morning.”
“Yes, Mrs. Lovely. I’ll have someone come out right away. Better yet, Mrs. Lovely, I’ll be out to your apartment this afternoon.”
Fancy had forgotten about Buddy until he ran past her office. Several kids chased him. One little girl scooped Buddy up and started carrying him around.
If she were serious about learning the business, Fancy needed to see Mrs. Lovely’s place. The bathroom couldn’t be that bad.
“Okay, baby. I’ll be here all day. I’ll cook suppa early. That ways you can join me if you like. I’ll cook a little extra.”
Fancy frowned. No matter how friendly Mrs. Lovely was, Fancy was not eating at a stranger’s home. “I’ll be there by three.”
Fancy surfed the Internet and billed all her real estate salesperson and broker courses to Harry’s credit card. She billed the real estate exam fees under miscellaneous, completed an expense report, and made the amount payable to herself. She contacted the Institute of Real Estate Management and prepaid for each course required to become a certified property manager. Fancy was most interested in commercial leasing and acquisition. Instead of owning apartment buildings she wanted to own commercial property. Skyscrapers. For the first time in her life, Fancy envisioned becoming one of the power players.
The telephone interrupted her thoughts. It was Harry so Fancy answered, “Hello.”
“Hey, I missed my flight. Can’t get out until six so I’m headed back to the office. Why don’t you take care of me before my trip? We can do lunch. Reserve us a room at the usual,” Harry said.
Fancy replied, “I can’t. I promised I’d visit Mrs. Lovely.” She was not canceling her appointment with Mrs. Lovely.
“Don’t forget who cuts your check. It’s not Mrs. Lovely. It’s me.”
No, he was not pulling rank. Bastard. “No, Harry. Not today.” Fancy didn’t offer an explanation nor an excuse.
“Okay, look, pack your things and move to cubicle two. I want you moved by the time I make it to the office.”
“But Allyanna is in cubicle two. Besides, I’m not moving to a cubicle. I’ve earned my office.”
“Yes, you have. But you haven’t earned your keep. I have too many tenants calling me complaining about you.”
Harry must have been crazy if he thought Fancy was moving out of her plush office. “Bye, Harry.”
“Oh, yeah. Allyanna says she’s allergic to dogs, so after you finish moving, take Buddy home immediately. Forward me to Allyanna.”
Fancy hung up the phone and stomped over to Allyanna’s desk. She kissed her lips inward twice, signaling for Buddy. He didn’t respond so Fancy sat in Allyanna’s visitor’s chair, patted her thigh, then rolled her eyes at Allyanna. “Where’s Buddy?”
“If we’re lucky, he’s dead. Why would anyone bring an animal to work? He’s not a kid. By the way, Harry’s wife says if you don’t stop sleeping with her husband she’s going to—”
Fancy politely picked up Allyanna’s grand Starbuck’s cup. The coffee was still warm. Fancy removed the lid and emptied the remaining contents on Allyanna’s desk.
Allyanna screamed, “You witch!”
Fancy stood and stared at Allyanna. Allyanna pinched the wet papers and held them over the wastebasket.
“Yeah, I thought so,” Fancy said, then walked away.
How did Allyanna know Harry was married? Fancy walked up and down each aisle searching for Buddy. The kids were huddled in an aisle, peeping at Allyanna.
Fancy walked over to the kids and asked, “Has anyone seen Buddy?”
The little girl who had been carrying him pointed at the boy next to her.
Fancy’s eyes widened. “What did you do with Buddy?” She grabbed both the kids by the hands and dragged them into her office.
“Where’s Buddy?”
The little boy scratched his head. Fancy placed her hands on his shoulders and rattled him back and forth. “You’d better tell me or—”
“Or what!” Allyanna interrupted, pushing open Fancy’s door. “Get your hands off my kid.”
Tears swelled in Fancy’s eyes. “He’s not my dog. I’ve got to find him. Where’s Buddy?”
“My son don’t play with no dogs. She had the dog. Ask her. You shouldn’t have brought him here in the first place.” Allyanna walked away, holding her son’s hand.
The little girl whispered, “He’s dead.”
Fancy’s head snapped in the little girl’s direction. “
Dead! Dead! What do you mean he’s dead!”
The little girl pointed and said, “Check the rest room,” and ran to her mother.
Fancy ran to the rest room. The door was locked.
“What’s all this commotion?” Harry asked, walking into the office.
“Buddy is in the rest room and the door is locked.”
Harry removed his spare key. He unlocked the door, opened it, and looked inside. “Nope he’s not in here. I told you to take him home.”
Fancy was relieved that Buddy wasn’t in the rest room but worried because, now where was Buddy?
Allyanna brushed by Harry and entered the rest room. “Oh, my gosh!” Allyanna held her stomach and laughed.
Fancy rushed into the stall. When she saw Buddy, all Fancy saw were his innocent eyes. Buddy was stuck in the toilet bowl covered in white toilet tissue and chocolate candy bars. Peanuts floated around his sticky coat.
“Don’t move.” Fancy ran to her office, grabbed the workout bag, and raced back to the rest room. She waved a chicken strip in front of Buddy’s nose until he hopped inside the bag. Fancy doubted Buddy would win any dog contest, especially the one her neighbor had entered him into this weekend.
“Bad ass kids.” Maybe having children wasn’t such a good idea after all because if Fancy were their mother, she surely would’ve beaten them.
CHAPTER 11
Fancy called in sick on Friday. She laced her jogging shoes, stretched her hamstrings, and then did a full split in both directions. Why had Harry lied about his situation? Not mentioning he had a wife was the same as lying. As long as Fancy kept promising to please Harry, he either didn’t care or didn’t know she was the one who’d sent the bleeding heart, causing Mrs. Washington to place herself under house arrest. Although Fancy no longer desired Harry sexually, she adamantly wanted Mrs. Washington to leave his cheating ass. Seeing Harry happy, taking Allyanna out to lunch every other day, tied Fancy’s stomach in knots. Sending Harry’s wife that floral arrangement marked the beginning of Harry’s demise.
“Let’s see, first I’ll E-mail a copy of his list of clients to my personal E-mail address, then I’ll forward all of his phone calls to my cell phone.” Since Fancy had recorded Harry’s outgoing message, she’d duplicate the message on her phone. What if Byron questioned her? Fancy would think about that after she changed her home phone number. Fancy stood on her balcony and gazed at the mid-afternoon sun rays hovering over the lake like a sheet of glass.
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