Tommy grinned and gave what Ed saw as an almost effeminate shoulder shake. “So am I,” Tommy said with delicious joy. “So am I!”
Ed laughed and played it off, but the remainder of that afternoon was tortuous for him. He kept taking peeps at Grace, with malice in his heart, but every time she looked his way he smiled and waved. But Tommy saw the malice. He saw it! He was keeping his eye on Mister Ed.
And later that evening, after he said his goodbyes to Grace and Ed and the overjoyed birthday girl, feeling as if he was leaving something behind when he left that house, he was back on his car phone as he drove away. He had a problem to resolve. And it involved Ed.
“I want another background check on Ed Jefferson.” He was talking to Branson Nash, his security chief.
“But we did that already, boss,” Branson responded. “He’s clean.”
“That guy is clean the way a sewer is clean,” Tommy said. “I’m not buying it. My gut is never wrong. You dig deeper. No more of that surface shit. Something’s going on there and I need to know what it is. I need answers. And if you and your men can’t provide me with those answers, then I’ll just have to hire a crew that can.”
“Say no more,” Branson said. “I’ll get on it personally. If there’s something to be found, I’ll find it. I promise you that.”
“Good,” Tommy said, although he remembered that same promise on the first background check, when Ed first hooked up with Grace. But Tommy wasn’t going to take he’s clean for an answer this time. Something was wrong with that guy. Tommy felt it in his gut. And he felt it stronger tonight, for some reason, than he’d ever felt before. “I’m heading to Vienna tonight,” he said. “Have answers for me when I get back.” And before Branson could say another word, Tommy ended the call.
CHAPTER FIVE
Ed was rubbing his big cock against Grace’s tight ass as soon as she got in bed with him. There used to be so much foreplay. There used to be a lot of romance and cuddling beforehand. But now, and especially when he was upset, Ed didn’t care. He just went to the main event. He put on a condom, not because he wanted to, but because Grace insisted on it. It started a few months ago. She dropped by his office unexpectedly one day and saw him a little too affectionate with one of his nurses. He denied anything was going on, and the nurse denied it too, but Grace wasn’t taking any chances. She didn’t have any hard proof, accept for that time her husband had an affectionate arm around the woman’s waist, but it was enough to put Grace on notice. And forced him to wear condoms ever since.
Not that it mattered to Ed. Just as long as he got some, he didn’t care what parameters were put in place. It was so different, she thought as he did her, when Tommy used to do her. Even when he was troubled, he still considered her too. He was a selfless lover. Ed was too, when times were good. Ed was too, when she was attending this doctor’s party or that elected official’s get together. When she was being the perfect wife, he knew how to treat her in bed. But ever since he started running for office, and ever since things remained at a standstill in terms of endorsements and donors, he didn’t give a damn. He was wham, bam, thank you ma’am. And within five minutes, like now, he was ejaculating.
“You said no,” he said to her as he came. “How could you say that, Grace?” He started pounding her now, forcing his release to squirt out. “I’m running for office for us, for our family, and you tell him no?”
His pounding was getting painful. “You’re hurting me, Eddie,” she said to him. “Stop. Eddie, stop!”
“I’m trying to make something wonderful happen for our family,” Ed said as he ignored her plea and continued to pound, “and you tell that cracker not to support me?”
Grace threw him off of her, forcing his penis to fall out and his loaded condom to nearly fall off, as she sat up in bed. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked angrily. “I told you to stop. You were hurting me! And don’t you use that racial slur to describe Tommy. He’s the father of my child. Of your stepchild!”
Ed knew he was blowing it, but he couldn’t help himself. The nerve of this woman! “I’m your husband,” he said. “Not him! I’m your husband. You should support me no matter what, Grace!”
“I do support you,” Grace retorted, “but I’m not going to lie for you. I’m not going to pretend I support your positions because I don’t, and you knew that long before you decided to run. But you decided to run anyway. That’s not my problem.”
“Like hell it’s not!” Ed fired back. “You can’t go around discouraging people from endorsing me, are you out of your mind? I need that money! My campaign can’t survive without big donor money! You don’t have shit. I don’t have shit! My practice is barely turning a profit and your company is barely staying afloat. All you have to give me is a good piece of ass, and it’s not all that good!”
Grace couldn’t believe he had just spoken to her that way. “A piece of ass?” she asked.
Ed was immediately in the land of regret, and exposure. “I didn’t mean it, sweetheart,” he said quickly. But Grace was already attempting to get out of bed, to get away from him. “Sweetheart, I didn’t mean it,” Ed said again, reaching for her. “I swear I didn’t!”
But Grace had already pulled away from him, got up, and began putting on her bathrobe.
“Babe, I’m sorry, okay? You know I didn’t mean it!”
But Grace wasn’t thinking about him. She went into the bathroom and slammed the door. See if he ever got another piece of her ass again!
Ed fell onto his back, angry and frustrated. He didn’t regret what he said, but he regret that he had said it. Now he had to win her back into his corner. More work for him to do! But she had angered him so completely. When she told Tommy not to endorse him, he wanted to slap the shit out of her plain-Jane ass. Why the fuck did she think he married her? She was supposed to be his come up. She was supposed to take him to that next level, not keep him where he already was. He was a doctor, for goodness sake. He already had clout and pull. Having Tommy Gabrini’s child as his stepchild, having Tommy Gabrini’s ex-wife as his current wife, was supposed to be his springboard. Now her stupidity had stopped him mid-jump. He wanted to beat the shit out of her. And he would have. He declare he would have. But he thought about Tommy and the amount of shit he would beat out of him if he laid so much as a hand on Grace. She was the man’s ex-wife, yet he still kept her on a pedestal. That was why Ed was keeping his hands to himself. He still had to learn how to keep his words to himself too.
He got out of bed, put on his pants and shirt. He wanted to get away from there. He wanted to go see one of his other ladies, and forget Grace existed. But he knew he couldn’t leave the house like this. He needed to keep her on his side until he got what he wanted. And now that the GOP wasn’t backing him; now that Gabrini wasn’t going to endorse him, his need to have Grace in his corner was more urgent than ever. He couldn’t lose Grace. Not until Gabrini was dealt with, and Gabrini’s fortune was in his care and control.
He walked over to the bathroom door and knocked. “Grace,” he said in his best apologetic voice. “Come on, Grace. You know I was just running my mouth, sugar. You’re my world. You know that.”
He turned the knob to open the door. But when he realized it was locked, his anger returned tenfold. And he began banging on the door. “What the fuck are you locking the door for?” he asked. “Open this door, Grace. Open this gotdamn door!”
Grace was in the bathroom, washing her hands at the dual sink, when the banging started. She grabbed the towel to dry her hand, anxious to sling open that door and give that fool a piece of her mind, but he beat her to the punch. He rammed the door open with his shoulder, causing his compact body to nearly fall in, stunning Grace.
“What are you doing?” she asked incredulously.
“You’re locking me out?” Ed asked, coming toward her. He didn’t give a damn in that moment about keeping her in his corner. “And you’re asking me what I’m doing? What the fuck are you doing?”
“Man, get out of my face,” Grace said, tossing the towel and moving past him.
But he grabbed her by her hair and yanked her head backwards. The pain was excruciating. “I’ll get out of your face, alright!” he said. “I’ll get out of your face!”
He slung her around, leaned back, and punched her so hard in her face that it buckled her knees.
As soon as he punched her, he regretted it. She could see it in his eyes. But her eyes were different. They were filled with rage. The pain still stung as she grabbed the first thing she could get her hands on, her blow dryer on the vanity, and slammed it against the side of his head. Grace hit him so hard it staggered him.
But Grace wasn’t finished. He might have hit her one time and regretted it. She hit him one time and felt it wasn’t enough. While he staggered, Grace grabbed the shower curtain rod, flung it down as if it was the easiest thing in the world to handle, and began beating the shit out of Ed Jefferson.
“I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry!” Ed was backing up, holding his hands in front of him in a defensive pose. “I didn’t mean it, Grace! I didn’t mean it!”
“But I mean it,” Grace said, beating him out of the bathroom. He fell but quickly got back up, and Grace kept beating him with that rod. When she wouldn’t let up, when she continued to beat the crap out of him and he couldn’t take the rod away from her, he turned to run.
But Grace ran too, behind Ed. She was determined to beat his ass. No man had ever laid a hand on her before, and she wasn’t about to let him be the first. They made it downstairs, with Ed practically falling down the stairs, as Grace continued to plummet him. But when they made it downstairs, Ed had had enough. He turned, and found the strength to snatch that rod away from her.
“Cut it out, Grace,” he yelled as he tossed the rod aside. “Now I mean it! Cut it out!”
But Grace was just getting started. Her eye was swollen, and closing shut. She could barely see out of it. But she hurried into her kitchen.
Ed, thinking it was over, went into the powder room off from the foyer. He wanted to see if he was bleeding. He looked in the mirror. When he saw where he had a small cut just above his eyebrow, his anger rose. “Stupid bitch,” he said mostly to himself, as he grabbed a piece of tissue to dab his wound.
Grace, in the kitchen, pulled open the utensil drawer, pulled out a butcher’s knife, and hurried out of the kitchen. Ed was out of the powder room when he saw her coming back. And he had the nerve to smile. But that was before he saw the knife. When he sat that knife in her hand, he couldn’t believe it. “What the hell?” he asked, amazed that mild-mannered Grace would do such a thing. “What are you doing?”
“I’m tired of your shit,” Grace said, as she hurried toward him.
He was backing up, still unable to fathom it. “This is not funny, Grace!”
“Am I laughing? Ask the last bitch who fucked with me,” Grace said. “Ask her if I thought it was funny. Ask her if I was laughing. I’m tired of people thinking I’m some damn doormat they can just walk over! I’m tired of this shit!”
She lunged at Ed, just missing him, and he realized at that moment that Grace was a long way from mild. He took off. She was past reasoning now. Grace seemed to be reacting to pinned-up frustrations Ed wasn’t sure had anything to do with him. He headed for the front door. She almost got him when she lunged again, but he got out of the door and slammed it behind him.
Grace didn’t open it back up. She didn’t follow him. She wasn’t about to leave her child, not even for revenge. She closed and locked her door. And leaned against it. Tears wanted to come, but she was too angry to cry. She had been holding it together for months on end. She had been trying with all she had to be the dutiful wife. But nobody was going to punch her as if she was some dude and she pretend it was okay. It was never going to be okay. She saw that hatred in his eyes when he punched her. He regretted it. She saw that too. But his regret didn’t mean shit to her.
As the pain began to throb again, she pushed herself from the door and headed toward the powder room. But the house intercom began to buzz. She walked further into the living room, to the outer reach of the foyer, and pressed the button on the wall. “I’m okay, Will,” she said. It was her front gate security guard.
“I just saw Dr. Jefferson speed out of here so fast he nearly hit the guard booth. I wanted to make sure.”
“Thank you. I’m fine. But if Dr. Jefferson returns, do not let him through. He is no longer welcomed on this property.”
The guard’s voice changed. He understood the gravity now. “Yes, ma’am,” he responded.
CHAPTER SIX
Grace arrived at Trammel Trucking through the garage entrance, and took the elevator to the top floor. Her chief accountant, Barry Nagarta, was in the outer office waiting for her. He stood from his chair when she walked in.
“Waiting long?” Her secretary handed her a pile of messages, and she headed for her office.
“Not at all,” Barry responded as he grabbed a file he had sitting on a side table and followed her into her office. “I’d wait forevermore for you, Grace.”
Grace glanced back at Barry as she made her way behind her desk. He was an average height, bulky man of Nigerian descent who had such an arresting personality that he always put everybody at ease. She smiled. She admired him.
And as he followed her into her office, he admired her too. Especially her superfine body. Grace was the girl next door to him. She might not have been the most beautiful shell on the beach, she didn’t have that drop dead gorgeous exotic look he preferred in a woman, but she was the shell any man would be proud to bring home to mama. She wore a soft blue pencil skirt with a thick gold-trimmed belt that highlighted her narrow waist, a matching V-neck blouse that highlighted her sizeable breasts, and black heels highlighting a hint of gold through the center of the shoe. Her long hair dropped along her back in a bouncy wave of thickness that framed her face with elegance and youth, and the earrings she wore were brilliant Tiffany diamonds that looped just below her lobe.
She also wore, for the second day in a row, an oddity even Barry could no longer ignore. “You look scrumptious by the by,” he said, as she made her way behind her desk. “But sunglasses again? If I was the kind of guy who didn’t know how to mind his own business, I would say madam is trying to hide something. But since I know how to mind my own business, I’m not saying a word.”
Good, Grace thought, as she sat her briefcase and purse on her desk. Barry was a sweetheart, the best accountant she’d ever had, but he was Tommy’s inside man and she knew it. Tommy recommended him for hire, knowing that he had such superior credentials that she would have been a fool not to hire him. And she hired him. But she was nobody’s fool. Tommy had pulled that trick before. Even when they were married he would always have one of his guys in place at Trammel to make sure she was okay. When she confronted Barry about it, he admitted he knew Tommy, and that Tommy wanted him in place to look out for her.
But in typical Barry fashion, he went further. “Tommy recommended me because I am an excellent accountant,” he said. “That much is true. But what is also true is that he wanted an expert such as myself to keep an eye on the books, just to make sure these wonderful folks here at Trammel treat you right and do not exercise any record-finagling. I must be honest with you, I have never met a man who thought so highly of his ex-wife. I have two ex-wives myself and I do not give a flying flip for either one of them. But Tommy thinks the world of you.”
Grace smiled at the time, insisted it was all because she was the mother of his daughter, but it gave her great comfort too. And Barry became, not only Tommy’s inside man, but hers as well. “Do you have the end-of-months?” she asked him.
“Every last one of them,” Barry responded, handing the file to her. “As I do each month, I compared my records with the records of the board of directors’ accountants, and the records within our own accounting department. Except for minor discrepancies that were more along
the lines of accounting errors rather than any blatant misdeeds, all checked out okay.”
“Initial impressions?” Grace asked as she thumbed through the file.
“We’ll meet payroll again,” Barry said, “but the margins are getting thinner and thinner. And more vendors are dropping out.”
Grace looked at him. “How many more?”
“Eleven this reporting period.”
“My word,” Grace said with a frown on her face. “What are we doing wrong?”
“That’s the question I’m asking myself. But I cannot seem to find any answers on our end.”
But Grace had an additional thought. Maybe they were asking the wrong question, and therefore getting the wrong answer. Maybe it wasn’t what they were doing wrong, but who was wronging them? Was there a whisper campaign going on? Was there something brewing behind the scenes that she wasn’t privy to? She looked at Barry. “Get me a list of all of the vendors who have refused to re-up with us.”
“For this past month?” Barry asked.
“When did our slide first begin?” Grace asked.
“I would say four months ago. It was subtle then. One the first month, one the second, three the third. This is the first month where it became tsunami-size.”
“Get me their names and numbers,” Grace ordered, “for all four months. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”
“But I thought it was the job of the board of directors to contact vendors whenever we get a defection,” Barry said. “I thought they were the ones who were supposed to look into it.”
“They are,” Grace responded. “That is a part of the bylaws. But I’m looking into it now. Get me those names.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Barry said. Grace was not only an excellent CEO to him, but she was an excellent African-American female CEO to him. Nobody was going to do her in. He was going to work overtime to help a woman he considered to be his fellow traveler remain successful. That, he felt, was the very reason Tommy wanted him there in the first place. He hurried out of her office to get those names for her.
Tommy Gabrini: The Grace Factor Page 6