She was careful as she dipped the cotton balls into the bloody mess and then into a small bottle that had been sitting within her reach. As she tucked the little bottle into her waistband she vowed that her father would go to jail for what he’d done.
Through tears of pain and anger, she found a way to secure the jar so that it wouldn’t move around, then covered it with her oversized sweatshirt.
The blood flow had slowed considerably, but she knew her next stop had to be the hospital. Unfortunately, Walton Medical Center was more than ten miles away. She would have to draw on every ounce of inner strength to walk that road. But that’s exactly what she had to do in order to preserve any of the evidence her mother had damned near killed her to erase.
Slowly she raised her chin, looking at the rows of trees stretched out before her like an obstacle course.
She would make it, even if it took her very last breath.
CHAPTER Forty
Dinner was lovely. Vernon had prepared honey-roasted chicken, rice pilaf, green beans almondine, tossed salad, and crescent rolls. She didn’t even know he could cook. Hell, she didn’t realize he even knew how to turn on the stove.
Vernon eyed her closely as she gathered her things. “Where are you going? We haven’t even—”
“Home to my wife.”
His face darkened. “When are you gonna stop with that bullshit?”
“Hey, you wanted to play the game. Don’t get mad when I take all my toys and go home. I like things they way they are,” she said. “If you have a problem with it, then put this separation into high gear, finalize the divorce, sign the papers, and let’s get on with our lives.”
“Let’s just end this whole court thing; let me come back home. I don’t want a divorce!”
“Neither do I,” she replied. “But reality is reality. There’s nothing you can do about Tanya right now. You’ve had her for two years, on my time and my money. Fairness says I deserve the same.”
His eyes widened in shock. “So you’re gonna keep her for the whole two years?”
“At least, maybe longer.” Brandi winked. “She might like what I do for her.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “And she’s doing quite well as my wife. I can’t say it enough: You’ve got great taste.”
Stunned, he lashed out, “You bitch!”
Brandi laughed as she tied the sash around her coat. “Not the nicest words you’ve ever spoken to me, but you’ve said worse.”
Vernon stared at her.
“Let’s get married,” she said with a mild shrug. “Yeah, it was something like that.”
“Are you sleeping with her?”
“Not yet.” She leaned in, whispering, “But I’ll keep you posted. I’m wondering if she’s better at it than you are.”
Anger flashed in his eyes; his nostrils flared just a little. He was pissed!
“But as happy as Tanya is right now, I don’t think she’d have a problem overlooking the fact that I’m missing that vital piece of equipment.” She reached down, stroking his dick through his trousers. “Good sex isn’t about what you have dangling between your legs.” She strolled toward the door, laughing. “But I’m sure you knew that already. But then again, maybe you don’t.”
Fury raged within him, followed by a feeling of helplessness. He thought he was close to getting his wife to see reason. Now he knew that nothing could be further from the truth.
CHAPTER Forty-One
“Judge, this ruling doesn’t fit the law,” Mason Myers said, standing to make his point.
Unmoved, Judge Bowden popped a sunflower seed in his mouth. “There’s a legally signed and executed contract with the family, and a clinical assessment has been completed as to the children’s take on things. They’re actually loving the extra attention. To me, it’s like Mrs. Kaufman is a live-in nanny, personal assistant, and helpmate all in one. There’s no sexual involvement between the women.” He lowered his piercing gray gaze to Brandi whose lips twitched trying to keep in a laugh. “Unless Mrs. Spencer has something to add—”
“Oh, no, Your Honor,” she said waving her hand in a delicate flourish before placing it on her chest. “Live-in nanny, personal assistant and all that. Nothing more. She actually—ouch!” Brandi scowled at Avie, growling, “Woman, if you kick me again, you’ll need your own lawyer.”
“Then cut it out,” Avie said through clenched teeth. She leaned forward, gripping Brandi’s arm in her slender hands and addressed the court. “That’s all, Judge. No sexual involvement.”
“So my rulings do fit within the laws of community property,” he said with eyes locked on Attorney Myers. “The contract belongs to the wife by execution, and to the husband by implied action. He had the woman’s—ahem—services for two years, and the wife wants a little of the same. She keeps the two-year contract and the mistress, and will receive maintenance for her upkeep, plus child support. Her involvement with Tanya Kaufman will not be held against her.”
Vernon stood. “So if I’m paying maintenance for Kaufman, then I should get something, too.”
“What you already had is why we’re here in the first place.”
“And I paid for it then, too,” Vernon shrieked. Then he scratched his head. “That didn’t come out too good. I want custody and some time with the mistress, too, if I’m paying. I might as—”
“That’s your wife’s point, Mr. Spencer.” Judge Bowden grinned. “Then let’s even things up. Can your wife sleep with her?”
Brandi blinked and laid a hand on her breast, saying in a breathy whisper, “Well, if I must…”
“No! No—no,” Vernon sputtered. “No!”
“Then you’ve got to keep it in your pants,” the judge said with a small smile. “Maybe you’ll learn something. No sexual contact with the mistress.”
Mason’s jaw dropped. He brushed off his maroon striped suit, then looked up at the judge. “Are you doing this because you’re running for office?”
Judge Bowden craned his neck, looking behind him. Then he turned to Mason, one eyebrow raised. “The office is running away from me? When did that happen?”
“Sir?”
The portly bailiff laughed behind his hand.
“I don’t run away from anything that’s not running from me,” the judge said, leveling cool gray eyes on the lawyer. “So I don’t get your point.”
Mason grimaced as Vernon glowered at him, saying, “Political office.”
“Oh, that,” Judge Bowden said with a shrug. “You think this is all because I’m playing up to the female population for a few votes?”
“Well, what else could it be?”
“The fact that the wife has done her homework and came prepared, and all your client has is accusations and hot air,” he shot back. “And the infidelity issue is not helping him at all.”
“You’re too biased to hear this case,” Mason said, rocking on his heels.
“You want to remove me from this case? This late in the game? Go right ahead and try it,” the judge said with a sly grin on his paper-thin lips. “My fellow arbitrators only wish they had a case like this. And I guarantee they might not be so…nice.”
Mason looked over at Vernon, who stared blankly ahead.
“Now as I was saying, before someone so rudely interrupted—” Judge Bowden flexed his pudgy fingers—“the house on Wabash Avenue will remain empty until it is sold. The proceeds will be split fifty-fifty.”
Vernon jumped to his feet. “Why can’t I live there?” Mason tried to yank him down, but Vernon shrugged him off. “I have to pay half the mortgage! So why can’t I have a place to live?”
Judge Bowden peered over the top of his glasses at Vernon. “Because you’re supposed to do counseling so you can go back home—your wish, mind you. The counselor said you walked out, when I’ve ordered you to be there.”
“Your Honor—”
“Young man, you are trying my patience.” Judge Bowden waved his wooden gavel. “If you all were crazy enough to bring this
in front of me, then I’m crazy enough to rule.”
“Your Honor, this is not acceptable!” Mason pushed his shoulder downward until Vernon ended up back in his seat.
“You’re wasting my time,” the judge said before pointing the gavel at Vernon. “Go home and work things out with your wife. This could all go away.”
“Not with her there!” Vernon said with a quick glance across the room at Tanya.
“What’s wrong with her all of a sudden?” the judge asked with a smile. “Did she turn purple and grow polka dots? She was fine three months ago. Or have you lost the…holiday spirit?”
Vernon remained silent, glowering angrily at the judge.
“Get outta my courtroom,” Judge Bowden said, looking first at Mason, then at Vernon. “I’ve had enough of you two clowns today.”
As Vernon left the building, the Channel 7 news crew and several other members of the media were ready for him with a barrage of questions. After five minutes of “No comment,” he grew impatient and shouted, “Get that thing out of my face,” then pushed through the crowd. He managed to get only three feet before finding himself face-to-face with the three women who were making his life a living hell.
Brandi, Tanya, and Avie strolled across the black marble and sand-colored pavement.
“Hey, I’m here to offer you a movie deal,” shouted a bushy-haired man wearing an oversized Hawaiian shirt as he waved a business card in the air. “We’d like to shoot a film based on your story.”
The man must’ve been from California, Brandi thought. Who else would wear a short-sleeve shirt in weather that was frigid enough to turn cold cream to ice cream.
“I’m not interested,” Brandi replied, then pointed to Tanya. “But she might be.”
Brandi’s heels clattered down the stone tile as the man turned around and said, “How about it?”
“I don’t know how to act.”
The man grinned, closing in for the kill. “It isn’t too hard. With your looks, you’d be a natural.”
Tanya leveled an icy-blue gaze on Vernon, raised her voice, and asked, “Any harder than faking an orgasm?”
All mics swung in her direction.
Vernon visibly blanched, mumbling something the nearby newscasters struggled to catch.
Mr. California followed her gaze. “Maybe it’s a lot less difficult than that.”
“Then I’m your woman. I’ve had two whole years of practice.”
Brandi chuckled as the news teams tried to run Vernon down.
“Mr. Spencer, what’s your take on all this? Your wife now has her own wife.”
“It’s not gonna last,” he growled. “She’s just doing this to get back at me.”
A female reporter thrust a microphone in his face. “But you did sleep around on her, right?”
“No, I mean—Yes, I mean—Get outta my face!”
“And doesn’t she deserve something, too?” The woman lifted her eyebrows twice. The implications weren’t lost on anyone.
Vernon froze. “She’s not sleeping with her. My wife’s not gay!”
“And you know that for sure?” The woman leaned in wearing a sly smile on her thin pink lips. “Who knows? Maybe the mistress enjoys being her wife more than being your mistress.”
The would-be movie director perked up. “Now that’d be a real story.”
“Look,” Vernon said, stopping to address the crowd, “this is just a phase she’s going through. She wanted to prove a point.” He said it loudly enough to be sure Brandi and Tanya heard him. “You mark my words: That woman will be out of my house real soon. I’ll have my life back.”
“Can we quote you on that?”
“You can quote anything you like. My wife, the woman I married, will come to her senses. And things will be back to normal.”
The news crews in front of the Daley Center turned their collective attention to the women.
“Mrs. Spencer, are you—”
“No comment!” she growled, trying to pick up the pace.
“Aren’t you setting a bad example for marriages?” asked a pushy young reporter from Channel 7 news. “Or was this a cover-up because you are bisexual?”
Brandi whirled around on one heel like a prima ballerina, leaving Avie stumbling to keep up. She drew in a deep breath and said, “Let me tell you something—”
Avie lunged forward, grabbing Brandi by the collar before she could get the rest out. “My client has no comment.”
Tanya grabbed Brandi’s other arm and they practically lifted Brandi off the ground.
Brandi looked over her shoulder, glaring at the mop-haired newscaster as she flipped the woman the bird before Avie could rein her in a second time.
Brandi nearly tripped into the glass doors, making a beeline for the safety of the parking garage. Tanya managed to keep up. Avie, high heels and all, was right behind her.
“How did the press know about this, Avie?”
Avie shrugged, pulling her synthetic fur coat around her thick frame, avoiding eye contact with her friend. Oh yeah, that heifer had something to do with it.
“Avie?”
“I don’t really know for sure,” she said softly. “I just know that I didn’t have anything to do with it.”
Brandi eyed her best friend, as they kept three steps ahead of Fox News. “Mrs. Spencer, tell us about the case.”
“Yes, we want to hear your side of the story.”
“Hey, can I get an exclusive?”
“Will you give me a moment to talk with my lawyer?” Brandi bellowed loudly enough to wake the residents in Oakwood Cemetery.
A sudden hush fell over the few newscasters and people trying to get around them, as everyone inched back. Tanya snatched up the keys and ran into the garage. “I’ll bring the getaway car,” she said over her shoulder.
Brandi turned to Avie. “Woman, if you don’t start talking, I’m gonna tell Carlton who really scratched up his Barry White Unlimited Love album.”
The lawyer gasped, holding the briefcase to her chest as her hazel eyes widened with horror. “You wouldn’t!”
“Try me.”
Avie lowered the leather briefcase to her side, saying, “Vernon’s lawyer kind of…mentioned that he might, ah, you know.”
Brandi leaned forward until they were almost nose to nose. “And you didn’t think of mentioning you know to me?”
Avie swallowed hard. The first time Brandi had ever seen her at a loss for words. “I didn’t think he’d really go through with it.”
“What possible reason could he—”
“Vernon wants you back. He doesn’t want a divorce,” Avie said, pulling back some. “If he made things public, he hoped that pressure from outside sources would embarrass you enough to put the mistress out and let him come home. And I didn’t see too much harm. You still love him and want him back in spite of every warning I could give.”
“Traitor!” Brandi pushed Avie’s shoulder. “How could you do this to me?”
“Because he has a point!” she shot back, before taking aim on the reporters who had inched closer to take notes. “If you motherfu—”
“Avie, cool out!”
The reporters got the message and filed out of the parking garage.
“You’ve taken things much too far. We’ve gone back and forth to court wasting resources and time for what? To prove a point! You don’t want a divorce and neither does he.”
“So now you’re playing house with Mason.”
“No, I’m looking out for my friend,” Avie replied, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder. “A friend who’s making an absolute fool of herself.”
The sound of stick drummers on the corner of Randolph Avenue and State Street filled the air and drifted into the parking garage. The rhythm of their drums steadily vibrated up her spine.
Brandi turned to walk away, then stopped suddenly and faced her friend. “Did you think for one moment how all this publicity would affect the kids?”
“Did you think abo
ut how having that strange woman in your house affects the kids?”
“Tanya wouldn’t hurt them!”
“You don’t know that! She could be setting you up for failure—big-time. Don’t forget this woman slept with your husband; she wants him, too.”
“She wants no part of him in bed or out. She’s just as prime for our arrangement as I am,” Brandi replied. “He used both of us.”
“This is sad, Brandi. You’ve taken this martyr bit to a whole new level.”
“I’m not a martyr, I’m a survivor,” Brandi said, poking a finger in Avie’s fur. “Something that a whole lot of women aren’t able to say.”
“A survivor who’s exposing her kids to her husband’s infidelity.”
“He already did that,” Brandi said, glowering angrily at her best friend. “I’m just making it work for everybody.”
“You’re making it work for you.”
Brandi took a moment to absorb what she’d heard and said during the last few minutes. “If I ever find out that you’ve sold me out again, it’ll be the last time we speak. You’re supposed to be watching my back, not plotting my downfall. You pick now of all times to act like a lawyer.”
“That’s ripe, even for you, Brandi.”
“So maybe this will help keep you focused,” Brandi said, scribbling out a check, handing it to her friend.
“What is this?”
“For all the times we’ve gone back and forth to court. This is a thirty-five-hundred-dollar retainer. Maybe now you’ll act in my best interest and stop sleeping with the enemy.”
Avie tore up the check and tossed the little pieces in the air. “Screw you and your raunchy ass attitude!”
“If that’s an offer, I refuse. I’ve already got some lined up. If you meant that as an insult, you’ve already got that covered.” As Tanya pulled the Lexus in front of her, Brandi gestured back to the Daley Center. “Live at five, news at ten, right? Thanks a lot, friend!”
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