Judge Bowden looked at Mason. “Can you at least agree on that to make it easy?”
Vernon hesitated, then turned to his attorney.
Brandi spoke up. “All I want are my clients and half the equipment—fifty percent. He can keep the house on Cregier—”
“The house?” Vernon looked over his attorney’s shoulder to look at her.
“You don’t want to just sell it and split the profits?” asked an astonished Judge Bowden.
“Nope,” she said, with a quick shrug. “He can have the house.”
Judge Bowden paused for a moment before asking, “And the children?”
“He’s a good…father,” she said with a sly glance in his direction. “Joint custody is fine. All I need is child support, and maintenance to help with the mistress’s upkeep.”
Judge Bowden shook his head. “I’m not sure I can rule on the mistress. She’s an adult.”
Avie lifted a single document from a redwell folder. “Your Honor, we have a contract signed by Tanya Kaufman putting her into service of the Spencer family for a six-month period.”
She passed the notarized document to the bailiff.
When the judge got it, he scanned it as though he suddenly held the Holy Grail in his thick hands. “I’ve never had a case like this in all the time I’ve been on the bench.”
Mason asked, “Is that a valid contract?” He looked from the judge, to Brandi and Avie, who both nodded.
“It’s notarized and everything,” Brandi said.
“Judge, can I, um—,” Mason cleared his throat—“use your chambers for a moment?”
The judge studied Mason’s face. “Sure.”
The short man fled the room, followed by the clerk and the judge. Moments later peals of laughter again rent the air through the not-quite-closed door.
“This can’t be happening. This is a nightmare!” snapped Vernon.
Composure somewhat restored Mason, the clerk, and the judge reentered the courtroom.
“I’ve had people fight over children, pets, and family heirlooms,” the judge said. “This will be the first case in history that a couple fights for custody of the mistress.” He rubbed his hands together as though preparing to dig into a good meal. “I’ll finally get my name in the books without someone having to get killed.
“Since you guys really don’t seem like you want a divorce, I’m ordering counseling with a court-appointed therapist. In the meantime, the wife keeps the house on Cregier Avenue. You will sell the house on Wabash and split the profits. You all will work out visitations with the kids, because either way I’m going to allow joint custody.” Then he took a long, slow breath. “And the wife, as requested in this petition, keeps…the mistress. The contract is hereby entered into court. The husband is to have no intimate contact with Ms. Kaufman without his wife’s express written permission.”
Avie gasped and looked at Brandi. Mason’s jaw dropped. A strange silence filled the courtroom—but at least no one laughed this time.
“I don’t believe this—this—this—crap! You can’t do this to me!” Vernon snapped, jumping to his feet. “What kind of judge are you?”
Judge Bowden turned and scowled at him. “One that sees the bigger picture here.”
Mason yanked Vernon back into the wooden chair.
Brandi leaned back so she could see around Avie. “Hey, you’ve had her for six months. It’s my turn.”
The judge paused, gavel in mid-air. “Do you need time to reassess things?”
“What I want is my wife,” Vernon said.
“What you’ve got is a problem,” Brandi shot back as Avie tried, unsuccessfully, to pull her back.
“But she’s living in my house,” Vernon yelled at his wife.
“No, she’s living in mine.”
“You crazy Bi—” Mason quickly covered Vernon’s mouth.
Avie pinched Brandi hard on the arm, trying to get her to keep quiet. “No, I think my woman meter’s set to just plain PMS today. Try again.”
Vernon growled, shaking off his lawyer, then stormed out.
Walking through the chilly weather, Vernon pulled his collar tight around his neck to avoid the Chicago Hawk. His father, his mother, his friends—the whole world was against him. He passed Marshall Fields on State Street, ignoring the elaborate display of a storybook Christmas in the large plate-glass windows. Tourists, somewhat oblivious to the weather that was cold enough to turn cornflakes to Frosted Flakes, had camped out in front watching the animated figures.
As he turned the corner, a scene of the woodsman from Prince Charming and Snow White came into view. A strange take on the childhood story, but as he looked closely at the woman caught between the two men, an idea came to him.
Whipping out his cell, he dialed the one man he knew who could put an end to Tanya’s reign in his house. Snow White wouldn’t know what hit her.
CHAPTER Thirty-One
Brandi signed a lease for space in Avie’s downtown building. Avie was on the fifty-sixth floor of the AON Center and The Perfect Match would be on the fifty-fourth. “And I’d better not hear no crap about I’m too far away,” she told Avie as they celebrated the new business downstairs in Café 200.
“Hey, I’ll be there every day if you’re buying lunch.”
“I’d do better than your cheap ass,” Brandi replied. “I bet you own stock in Corner Bakery by now.”
“Actually, I do,” Avie said with a brief chuckle.
The next week Brandi called her employees to the main conference room.
“Vernon and I are dissolving our partnership of The Perfect Fit.”
She waited for the murmurs to die down before continuing. “I’m taking all of the clients I brought in to start my own company—The Perfect Match. The others will stay here with Vernon. You have three choices: go with me as I build the new company, stay with Vernon and The Perfect Fit, or leave altogether and take a severance package.”
Vernon sighed wearily, then grimaced before looking at his wife, who waited for him to speak. “You’ll have a few days to think things over, talk with your spouses or significant others and—”
“I don’t need time,” Ella Clark said, craning her neck to glare in Vernon’s direction. “I know what I want to do. All in favor of staying with a two-timing, lowlife of a man remain seated. All in favor of going with Brandi, come with me.”
Brandi gasped. “Ella, this is not the way we—”
All but five people followed Ella out of the room as though she had suddenly become a full-figured Pied Piper, eighteen-hour girdle and all. Vernon stared after them, a flash of disappointment in his eyes. Brandi felt a small stab of guilt at the outward show of disdain for her husband, but said nothing as she turned her back to him and followed the last departing employee from the room.
She had thought they would both be left with something. Would clients treat him the same way? If so, things would be worse for her husband than she thought. However, given the way his father directed traffic, she would have been on the receiving end of unfair if she hadn’t taken the initiative.
Falling in step with her, Michael Cobb leaned over and said in a voice as deep as Ossie Davis’s, “Well, that went well.”
She glanced at all dark brown, muscular, six feet of him. His deep-set light brown eyes sparkled with mischief, and a smirk played on a generous pair of lips that were made for kissing or—damn, she didn’t need to think about that. Right now the delta was keeping track of lost time. She didn’t answer that smile with one of her own, because she felt a slight sense of foreboding; somehow this was going to come back to haunt her. “It went a little differently than I expected.”
He followed her to her office, closed the door behind him, took a seat across from her, and cleared his throat. “You’re moving on and now maybe you can give a chance to the man you should’ve married in the first place.”
Okay, how to handle this one? Smooth and easy, baby. Smooth and easy. “You know, Michael, this isn’t a go
od time for me right now. I’m still married.”
“And whose fault is that?” he shot back, his dry tone not at all characteristic of a man who never let much ruffle him.
Her lips twitched in an effort not to grin. “Behave, Michael.”
“Behave?” he asked, winking. “Are you cursing at me?”
This time she laughed and a weight lifted from her shoulders.
“You filed for a divorce, right?”
“No, he filed for separation, but it made things look better to the judge for me to say that I wanted to work things out even though he cheated. So this may take a while.”
Michael’s massive hands trailed along the soft delicate curves of hers. “And I’ll wait for you. I love you, Brandi. Always have. Always will.”
“I’m sure you do, but it’s just not enough,” she said, breaking away before she fell for his touch, his seductive voice, and piercing eyes. The fact that she still wanted him after so many years didn’t help matters. The fact that the delta was waking up and trying to join the conversation didn’t help, either. “Vernon loved me, too. And look where that got me.”
“Not as much as I love you.” Michael reached for her, pulling her into a loving embrace. “Give him up, sweetie, and let me be good to you.”
Just then Renee buzzed interrupting what could easily have been a serious mistake. She was so horny, she was ready to spread them right there on her glass desk and give him some just because he’d been waiting for it so long. Or because she hadn’t had any in a while. Or because the sun came up that morning. Or—hell—just because!
“Brandi, your husband’s at your door,” Renee whispered.
“Tell him to wait!”
Renee lowered her voice even more. “He knows Michael is in there.”
“Better yet, tell him I’m busy for a little while.”
“Open this damn door!” Vernon yelled.
Brandi shook her head, ignoring her husband, relishing the long, slender fingers trailing a blaze of fire from her throat to her breasts. “First, I have to learn what it’s like to be good to myself,” she told Michael.
“Brandi, I’m gonna break this shit in!”
Brandi said, “Renee, please call security. And let Vernon hear you doing it.”
Then something occurred to her as she looked up into Michael’s eyes. “You knew about Tanya all that time.”
Michael’s handsome face went blank. His fingers froze on her lips.
“You didn’t tell me because it was in my best interest, you told me because you wanted Vernon exposed.” She pushed him away. “I can’t trust you, either.”
“That’s not it. He could’ve taken this company under,” Michael replied, impatience creeping into his voice as he reached for her again. “You married his lame, arrogant ass, when things could’ve been perfect for us.”
Brandi softened her tone. “You wanted too much, too soon. I couldn’t be the wife you wanted, the woman you needed.”
“Yeah, well, it seems that Vernon couldn’t be the husband you wanted. At least I would’ve been faithful.”
“Given a chance you could mess up, too. So don’t get cute,” she said, inching further away from him. “He only messed up six months ago, just once.”
Michael looked down at her, thick, bushy eyebrows drawn in as he blinked twice. “Wrong! Tanya’s been around for nearly two years…”
Brandi gasped, a sinking feeling holding ground in the pit of her stomach. Two years? Vernon had been that damn good? Or had she been that damn stupid?
“The moment you landed that account with Avistar Manufacturing.” His dark brown eyes held hers. “She came in looking for a job and evidently Vernon felt she deserved the side benefits first. She never did get the job she wanted. But then again maybe she got exactly what she wanted all along. A Black sugar daddy.”
Rage shot through Brandi like a steel ball out of a cannon, but she calmly replied, “And it never once crossed your mind to say something.”
“I only spoke up because he was spending more and more and your employees would all be on the unemployment line.” He reached for her again. This time she didn’t resist. “And I certainly didn’t say anything before because I would rather have seen you with him and think you were happy, than to point out the reasons you shouldn’t be.”
Now that touched her more than anything else he had said since he’d been in her office.
“I knew he would mess up someday.”
He kissed her gently, searching her lips with a warm intensity that flooded her with something she couldn’t name and wouldn’t try to, since her lips were now quivering with expectation, and the center of the pleasure zone had quivered a little bit, too. Jesus, she couldn’t afford to get wet—she was wearing a thong today—the last time she’d do that shit. She’d spent more time readjusting the damn thing than enjoying having her cheeks roam free.
“Michael, we can’t do this. If you really love me, you’ll wait until I’m free.”
“I’ve waited long enough to speak my mind,” he said, holding her close. “I’ve never married. I knew our time would come, and I didn’t want to be tangled up with someone when that time came. Drop this mess, and this Tanya person, and let’s really make things happen. Let me show you that I’ve always been the man for you.”
She paused, taking that in. “I don’t want to be with anyone else right now. I need some time.”
Michael’s eyes held hers, a flash of disappointment within them. “Are you sleeping with her? Is that it?”
“Famous question,” Brandi said with a small grin.
“Inquiring minds…”
“Will have to keep inquiring,” she said, opening the door for him. Anger brewed underneath and she knew that the rest of her day was shot to hell. That white bitch had lied to her, too.
“Brandi—”
She pointed to the hallway. “Leave, Michael.”
The sadness in his eyes sent a shiver of pain through her, but anger quickly swept it aside. A new love interest would definitely wait until she decided that her heart could expand and open to allow Michael in. Anything less would be unfair and he deserved more than that.
He leaned over to her, brushing his lips gently against her forehead before walking away.
Seconds later, she grabbed her purse and hit the door.
CHAPTER Thirty-Two
“You lying…heifer!” Brandi snapped with a quick glance at her girls. Tanya could tell that the word bitch was what the woman meant, but certainly couldn’t understand why she would be angry with her. Tanya paused when she saw the woman’s nostrils doing a little dance of their own. Honey brown skin had turned two shades darker than normal. All the woman had to do was drag her feet on the ground, lower her horns like a Spanish bull and take off.
“You lying bitch!” Brandi growled, just loud enough for only Tanya to hear as she came closer.
Tanya looked over her shoulder. “Go upstairs.”
They didn’t move. Both heads craned to their mother, then to Tanya, and back to their mother. Homework definitely wasn’t as exciting as this new development.
“Now!!”
Chairs scraped against the tile and the girls scrambled to the safety of the library overhead, as Tanya took a long, slow breath.
Brandi tossed her purse on the table and bore down on Tanya. “You were sleeping with him for two years. Two years! And didn’t say a word when I said six months.”
Tanya shrugged, digested the new problem, and came to a conclusion that made more sense than it should. “Six months or two years,” she said softly. “Was it any less wrong?”
That took the wind out of Brandi’s sails. Her lips quivered as she tried to find a quick comeback but couldn’t quite put it together.
Tanya didn’t move as Brandi stood in the middle of the solarium brewing like day-old coffee. “You had already come up with the plan. I didn’t want you to be more upset than you already were.”
Brandi leaned in close. “How
could I have possibly been more upset than finding out my husband’s fucking around with another woman? How could I possibly be more upset than finding out that while I’ve been busting my ass day in and day out trying to make a success of the company, and still take care of things at home, that it wasn’t enough?” She paced an angry path on the tile. “Oh, I couldn’t be pissed off about that. But for two whole years. Two entire years? And I didn’t see a damn thing until six months ago? Oh, nooooooooooooooo, I couldn’t be angry,” she yelled, continuing her frantic pace. “No, never that!”
“Brandi—”
“Oh, shut up,” she snapped, hands balling into fists. “There’s no way in hell both of us could’ve been that stupid. You had to know he was married. All those nights he was away—”
“Same could be said for you my sister,” Tanya shot back, pulling up to her full height—a few inches taller than Brandi. “He was your husband. Where the fuck did you think he was—golfing?”
Brandi inhaled, obviously closing her eyes against an internal storm. “Oh, now your ass got to go.”
Tanya’s arms folded against her chest. “You’ll let me out of my contract?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.” She crossed the last three feet between them. “I could take this shit when I was sure you didn’t know, but two years? Bullshit!”
“Is it me or yourself that you’re angry with?” Tanya asked, leaving the room, breaking into a trot as she passed the dining room table on her way to Vernon’s old office, which had become her bedroom.
Brandi ran after her and stopped short at the fully dressed dining room table. With one thrust of her arm, she swiped the dishes off the table. Honey-roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and California vegetables all sailed across the room, crashing against the wall.
Her pent-up rage finally shot from her head to her toenails. Tears she hadn’t allowed herself to cry finally poured down. She felt so…used. She had put herself on the back burner, trying to love this man, catering to his wishes because she loved him and she thought he loved her. What had Tanya done for him that she hadn’t? Brandi had overcome her revulsion to many things to please him. And for what? For what!
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