Every Woman Needs a Wife

by Naleighna Kai

  CHAPTER Forty-Two

  Vernon sat in his father’s office—a room big enough to sleep a family of eight—on the eighty-second floor of the Sears Tower. He had always hated the building, especially since they were so far up. Every time the wind blew, the building would move with it—almost like a ship sailing across choppy waters. Vernon avoided visiting his father whenever possible. Those times he couldn’t avoid meeting with the old man, he parted ways with his appetite for the rest of the day.

  William cracked his knuckles, then his neck. “So what happened to the guy you put on to Tanya?” he asked as he sipped his brandy. “I thought you said he was a sure thing with white women.”

  “Mark normally is, but he said he did all the right things and she became suspicious. Then she stopped taking his calls. Tanya was never a gold digger. So appealing to her that way will never work. She never asked for anything. She was satisfied with the things I gave her.”

  “Must be nice,” William said, casting a wary glance at Julie’s picture. “So,” he said with a stifled yawn, “on to Plan B.”

  Vernon was afraid to ask, but he had to. “What’s Plan B?”

  “The League. If you can’t get your wife to put that woman out of your house, you’ll have to find a way to get her attention.”

  An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of Vernon’s stomach. “What can they do for me?”

  His father’s sneer almost made Vernon sick to his stomach.

  ♥♥♥

  An hour later in a banquet room at the Hyatt Regency McCormick Place, Vernon hung back near the door. Black men wearing business suits and ties mingled in the room. Vernon wasn’t comfortable with his father’s plan. It was downright mean and Vernon never played the game that way. A little dirty, maybe, but never mean.

  His gaze swept across the room, taking in the men, who all had college degrees and either worked in high-level positions at Fortune 500 companies across the nation, or had their own businesses. The League had hit about twenty-five thousand members in forty-five chapters nationwide. The board did not allow a chapter to begin unless they had at least two hundred-fifty, half of the required number of businessmen to pull it off.

  As the meeting moved on to new business—Vernon’s category—William signaled him to the podium.

  Vernon slowly took the microphone and turned to greet his brothers in business. “Good evening, League.”

  A sea of voices rang out, loud and hearty. “Good evening, Brother Spencer.”

  A quick glance at his father got an encouraging nod.

  Vernon turned back to the men and began, “As you’ve probably heard on the news by now, I made a huge mistake and I’m paying for it. I need your help to get my life back…” He paused a moment before explaining. “My wife moved my mistress into our house and I moved out.”

  At first nothing. Then the expected laughter erupted from all sides of the large room.

  Several minutes later Vernon managed to get their attention again. “The case has gone public and she’s gaining ground, which means if this is allowed to happen—from now on women will all pull the same stunt when they get mad.”

  The laughter came to an abrupt halt. Vernon filled them in on a few coached details, then the questions came.

  “The judge gave your wife custody of the mistress?”

  “Yes sir,” Vernon said to Andre Adams, president of Avistar Manufacturing—the most successful producers of tradeshow displays and promotional items in North America.

  Turning to his lawyer, who sat two aisles over, the sharply dressed man asked, “Is that legal?”

  Attorney Lloyd Howard shrugged. “I’d have to see the contract.”

  Vernon reached into the folder on the podium and slipped out the mistress contract, as Howard came forward.

  The lawyer scanned it twice, and each time he choked, obviously holding in a major laugh. Then he looked up and out at everyone. “It’s a valid family contract with his wife’s signature on it. The judge accepted on that basis.” Then he looked down again. “You’re paying maintenance for your wife and your mistress, plus child support?” His thick lips broke into a grin. “We should give Brandi Spencer your membership. That was clever as hell.”

  Vernon shot him an angry glance. “Would you say that if Doreen brought your mistress home?”

  “Why are you talking about my bedroom?” Howard asked with an angry gaze at the people nearby chuckling at his expense. “It’s you whose drawers are hanging out.”

  “I’m just pointing out that you could be next, he could be next, anyone could be next,” Vernon said, pointing around the room. “No one here is blameless. For all that pious posturing, at least seventy-five percent of y’all have mistresses. So don’t point fingers my way. “I’m asking for your help, not your judgment. I know what I did was wrong, but how she’s treating me has far bigger implications. It’s all on the news and even talk show hosts are poking fun at it. If this sets a precedent and becomes a part of my divorce decree, the moment you mess up, you’ll also be taking care of wives, mistresses, and the children as part of a court order.” Vernon’s gaze swept across the audience. “So think about that before you laugh at me and let’s come up with a way we can put an end to this nonsense.”

  CHAPTER Forty-Three

  Weeks passed without a word from Vernon except when he came to pick the girls up every weekend. His silence didn’t sit too well with Brandi. The quieter he was, the more worried she became. Winter break had come faster than Brandi could imagine, but Vernon had planned some things with the girls and that picked up the slack. He still bristled every time Tanya answered the front door, but he’d stopped barking at her and also had given up on the little dinners with Brandi.

  Something was up. Brandi was certain that eventually they would find out exactly what. She only hoped she would be prepared.

  As she sat across the kitchen table from her girls, Sierra reached out to get her attention, asking, “Mommy, what’s a lesthian?”

  Brandi dropped the fork in her hand. “A what?”

  Sierra shrugged. “You know, a lesthian.”

  Brandi blinked twice before realization dawned. “You mean a—lesbian?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Sierra said, nodding. “One of those.” She scooped a spoonful of Frosted Flakes into her mouth as she continued, “So what’s that?”

  Brandi frowned, glancing at Tanya, who gaped, then collected herself and instantly turned back to the stove. “Where did you get that word?”

  “Penny’s mother told her that you were a lesthian.”

  “What?”

  The little girl continued chewing her cereal, the crunchy sound drowning out the light jazz playing in the background. “And don’t tell me I’m not old enough, neither, ’cause Mrs. Williams told me the same thing.”

  “Jesus Christ!”

  The little girl stopped eating for a second. “He was a lesthian?”

  “Quit saying that word!” Brandi shrieked, trembling with anger.

  Sierra slumped down in her chair. “Okay, okay, okay!”

  Tanya moved forward, clearing the breakfast dishes in record time.

  Brandi was, frozen, unable to come up with a single word. Lesbian? People were saying things like that to her child?

  “That’s okay,” Sierra said, lifting her head in triumph. “I’ll ask Daddy, he’ll tell me.”

  Brandi didn’t miss the mischievous glint in her youngest daughter’s eyes. “The word is lesbian. And it’s, um…” She looked at Tanya, who shrugged and leaned against the counter. “It’s two women who love each other.”

  “So I’m a lesthian because I love you, Mommy.”

  Oh to be so innocent again.

  Tanya let out a long slow breath, covering her mouth with a single hand, waiting for Brandi to make a comeback.

  “Well, it’s more like adult women who love each other.”

  “Oh,” Sierra said, taking in that bit of information. Then she looked up, gaze locking with her moth
er. “So why did Penny’s mother ask me if you slept in the same bed with Tanya?”

  Brandi groaned inwardly, mumbling, “Oh, hell.”

  CHAPTER Forty-Four

  Brandi strolled into her office, ignored her messages and Renee, closed the door, and blocked out the world as she laid her head on the desk.

  Working eighteen-hour days was really catching up with her.

  Thirty minutes later, her eyes flew open as the door cracked. Brandi looked up just in time to see Renee’s flailing arms trying to signal for her to get herself together.

  Andre Adams, president of Avistar Manufacturing, pushed past Renee, crossing the threshold into the office. “Mrs. Spencer, I hope you have a few minutes to see me.”

  Uh-oh. Her long-time client had called her by her formal name, rather than the normal Brandi. This wasn’t a courtesy call. She took a deep breath and sat up. “Of course, I always have time for you.”

  He didn’t take the chair she offered. Another bad sign. Instead he stood, towering over her in a gray suit and a short Afro that had seen better days.

  “I regret to inform you that we’ve chosen to stay with The Perfect Fit.”

  Disappointment seared her soul and it took every ounce of control to remain calm. “Even though I’m the person who brought you in?”

  “Well, um…,” He cleared his throat. “For stability’s sake, I’m sticking with Vernon. I’ll expect our files to be returned to his office promptly.”

  Great! Just what she needed to hear a week before Christmas. She chose her words carefully. “But he’s not even in a position to handle the business right now.”

  “I just gave him two-hundred-fifty thousand as an advance so I think he’ll do just fine. You may want to rethink this Perfect Match thing, though, and go back to your husband. Some of my colleagues are not too happy with this personal vendetta you have against Vernon.”

  So, members of the League had banded together on Vernon’s behalf. The good-old-boys network was alive and well. No surprise there.

  “But he’s the one who didn’t keep his promise to me. Now I’m supposed to roll over like a pet dog and let him scratch my underside?”

  “I talked with him,” Andre said, pacing the floor. “He’s learned his lesson. It was really nothing.” The man actually had nerve enough to pat her hand. She wanted to take that same hand and smack him upside his football-sized head. “And if you were the woman I thought you were, you’d forgive him and move on.”

  How dare he give her advice on her personal life. “He didn’t cheat on you.”

  Andre gave her a stony glare, but didn’t say a word.

  “The contract states that you’re to give three months’ notice, not one day.”

  “So sue me,” he said, with a lopsided grin. “You can afford that, right?”

  Actually, she couldn’t. Avie was not a contract lawyer. She’d have to bring in another attorney. Avie aside, Brandi did not trust lawyers.

  Andre’s grin widened. “That’s what I thought.” He leaned over her desk so that he met her gaze head-on. “Play some silly little games and hold my files, and see if I don’t destroy you. Hear? Vernon’s got more friends than you know.”

  He sauntered out of the office knowing that those few words had destroyed her bottom line. Tanya’s expenses, the children, payments on the house she couldn’t move into, and payments on a house she didn’t want were sucking up finances better and faster than a Hoover.

  And that was just the beginning of her hellish day.

  “Mrs. Spencer, I need to speak with you.”

  Brandi looked up into Marie Johnson’s round face and deep-set eyes.

  The woman was dressed down in a sweatsuit, since everyone was working on files and organization these days. Some boxes that were sitting in conference rooms hadn’t even been touched.

  Wringing her hands, Marie said in a wavering voice, “I’m giving notice that I’m quitting—today.”

  Music to any employer’s ear. Brandi felt a sudden sense of foreboding that Andre’s deflection and this new development were connected.

  Brandi took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves. “May I ask why you’re leaving so suddenly?”

  “I’ve got a better job offer and it starts tomorrow.”

  Brandi leveled a stony gaze on the woman who had been in charge of new hires for five years.

  “Vernon offered four dollars more per hour,” she said, then added, “To all of us.”

  Brandi couldn’t say a word as anger raged inside.

  Marie’s thin hands spread out, in an earnest plea. “Mrs. Spencer, I’ve got two kids in college and no husband. I have to look out for us.”

  Game could recognize game, and Vernon had just upped the ante. All she could manage to get out was, “I understand, Marie. I wish you the best.”

  ♥♥♥

  Marie was just the first of a stream of employees who suddenly became former employees with the same seven words followed by a host of excuses—or lies. By the time four o’clock rolled around there were only five left.

  Renee poked her head in. “Are you okay?”

  “If you want to leave, too—”

  “No way! I’m sticking with the original. Copies tend to get dull and lifeless after a while.”

  Brandi managed a weak grin.

  CHAPTER Forty-Five

  Brandi paced the carpet of Sesvalah’s office as she and Vernon looked on. His business suit draped his muscular frame in a way that would turn most heads. Given a chance, Brandi would love to turn Vernon’s head—right off his body.

  Sesvalah had traded in her characteristic loose-fitting gown for a cream-colored pantsuit that showed every curve to perfection.

  “First things first. You stole my clients, then my employees,” Brandi said angrily.

  Vernon’s sensuous lips lengthened into a wide grin. “And you expect me to apologize for that? It’s business, Baby. Strictly business.”

  “Business? No, honey, that’s just straight-up robbery.” Brandi huffed. “Do you realize I’m going to have to cut back on things for the girls? Especially since everything you’re supposed to pay comes a week late, if at all.”

  “I’ve got my girls covered.” Then he shrugged. “Oh come on, Bee.”

  She whirled around, glaring at him. “Don’t call me that!”

  “I’ve always called you that,” he said in a calm tone that irritated the hell out of her.

  “Yeah? Well, lately you’ve been adding four other letters behind it. I don’t want you to slip up—again. Then I’ll have to stomp your ass.”

  “You know I didn’t mean that,” he said with a small shrug followed by an even weaker grin. “I was just angry.”

  “I don’t know what you mean anymore.”

  “Well, you called me an asshole!”

  She cocked her head, noting that their counselor had remained strangely silent. “And what part of that isn’t the truth?”

  A bouquet of orchids lay on the sofa next to her briefcase. Cymbidium orchids, ones he hadn’t bought. “Where did you get those?”

  “Michael,” she said with a sly smile of her own.

  “You’ve been dating Michael?” His nostrils flared.

  Finally, something had gotten under his skin. “Yes, that Michael. So what if I am? I have to fulfill my needs somehow.” She couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. “My husband’s too busy whining like a bitch in heat and stealing things to do the right thing.”

  “Is this funny to you?” he said, bearing down on her. “I’m here at counseling trying to make things right.”

  “No, you think you’re trying,” she retorted, slipping back down onto the sofa. “In no shape, form, or fashion could you have thought that anything less than my new demands would be acceptable.”

  Vernon faced her head-on. “I’m not coming home until she’s gone.”

  “Somehow you haven’t figured out that isn’t the threat it used to be.”

  “Jesus! And wh
y would you go to Michael instead of taking me up on my offer?” he said softly. “Maybe if you got laid you’d lose that crappy attitude.”

  “No thanks, masturbation is working out entirely too well,” she said. “But you’re speaking like a true lover.” She shimmied and gave him a little wink. “I liiike it!”

  “Okay, getting things out in the open does help a lot,” Sesvalah said, taking a deep breath and shaking her head a little. “But let’s move on to our lists.”

  “I’ve got a better idea,” Vernon said with a cursory glance at the orchids. Both women waited for him to continue.

  “Let’s not do this at all.”

  Sesvalah stared up at him with a sad glint in her dark brown eyes. “You do realize that not completing the counseling can work against your case.”

  “I don’t need counseling,” he said, eyeing her with disdain. “I want my life back.”

  “If you’d really try to put some effort into the counseling,” she said gently, “this can be a step in the process.”

  “Not if you’re not telling her to get rid of Tanya.”

  Sesvalah shook her head. “I can’t tell anyone what to do. I can only point out obvious issues for you to discuss or suggest alternatives.”

  “Then suggest she get rid of her.”

  Sesvalah’s thin lips parted in a patient smile. “I can’t do that, either.”

  “Well, why not?” Vernon paced the floor, anger expanding with each step.

  “That was Brandi’s way of dealing with a disappointing and heartbreaking situation. When she’s ready to let Tanya go, then she will. Your response to it is only making her dig in her heels.” Sesvalah looked at him again, her small expressive face a mask of concern.

  “So I should just follow her program and move in with her and Tanya,” he said sourly. “Lady, are you crazy?”

  Brandi laughed but quickly covered her mouth. “You’re posing that question to a therapist?” Then all humor left her face as she said. “And I didn’t say that when you were on the sneak tip.”