A Mighty Love

by Anita Doreen Diggs

  Lloyd left the two women alone.

  They sat side by side. Mallory’s hands were folded in her lap, and her gaze was questioning.

  “So, you’re my talent manager.” The statement held a trace of mockery.

  Adrienne ignored the tone. “I’m very excited about the job, Ms. Guest.”

  “Call me Mallory.”

  Adrienne didn’t like the expression on Mallory’s face. Besides, she had enough drama in her life. If this woman didn’t want her, it was better to find out right now. “Is there a problem, Mallory?” Her tone was cold and brisk.

  Mallory was cool. “I wouldn’t call it a problem, but I certainly am curious about how you got this job with not a shred of experience in this area.”

  Adrienne stammered. “I have a background in theater and I . . . uh . . . used to, uh . . . work in show business.”

  A slight smile played around the corners of Mallory’s mouth. “Docks Sportswear has been a PWE client for the past twenty years. Up until now, Joseph Scarpaci, the president of Docks, has been content with selling his line of khaki pants primarily to wealthy white suburbanites in the Midwest. But times have changed, and Scarpaci is a smart man. He wants to go after a new market, the African-American market, and he’s committed to an advertising budget of more than fifty million dollars.”

  Adrienne gasped.

  “Docks Sportswear will be the first client of PWE Multicultural. Scarpaci wants to make Docks Sportswear the preferred brand of leisure clothing in the African-American community. I’m going to need talented African-American art directors, copywriters, TV commercial producers, casting directors, and media planners. Which brings us to the reason you’re here. I’d like to see your list of contacts.”

  Adrienne stammered that she didn’t have any.

  Mallory smiled knowingly. “I figured that,” she said. “Well perhaps your friend can give you some leads.” She made the word “friend” sound like “lover.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Mel was furious when Adrienne finally got around to telling him about the new job. They were lying in bed with the TV tuned in to some mindless sitcom that neither was paying attention to when Adrienne told him about her promotion. Mel sat up and glared down at his wife.

  “I think you’re more excited about this Lloyd Cooper than you are about moving out of the bull pen.”

  Adrienne shifted her position so that her body was turned slightly away from him.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she muttered.

  Mel sensed that he was onto something. “Turn on the light and sit up, Adrienne.”

  She didn’t move.

  “Didn’t you hear me talkin’ to you?” he demanded.

  “Go to sleep, Mel. We both have to get up early in the morning.”

  Mel snatched Adrienne by the edge of her nightgown and turned her around to face him. Then he switched on the light himself. Adrienne was trembling, but he didn’t care. If she was going to start cheating on him with her new boss, she had every reason to be afraid.

  “Talk to me, damn it!”

  “About what?”

  Now she was going to play dumb. “Tell me how this guy even knew you were alive. He’s just started a new job as president, for chrissakes; he must have a lot of stuff to do. Why all this interest in you?”

  Adrienne removed his hand from her shoulder and climbed out of bed. She stood with her back to the dresser, leaning her hands on it to brace herself. “Okay, Mel. I’ll tell you, but it’s a long story. Just hear me out, okay?”

  Mel was bewildered. “How can it be a long story? I thought the man just got there?”

  Adrienne closed her eyes, then opened them. She held up a hand for him to be quiet. “It turns out that Lloyd Cooper and I knew each other from high school.” She laughed nervously. “Life is funny, isn’t it?”

  Mel wasn’t laughing. Something was terribly wrong.

  Adrienne clutched the dresser, and then the incredible tale of LaMar Jenkins/Lloyd Cooper came pouring from her lips.

  Mel couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Some boy named LaMar had been the first one she’d slept with. The day after it happened, he had run off and Adrienne had never heard from him again. Now, LaMar was back and working at Adrienne’s company under a new name. Mel felt a stab of rage shoot through his forehead.

  “Let me get this straight, Adrienne. The first man you ever fucked just gave you a job in his department. Now your paycheck is bigger than mine. So the first man you ever fucked is going to put food on my table, and I’m just supposed to accept this. Is that what you’re telling me, Adrienne?”

  “Mel, stop talking nasty like that. We were children. I’m a married woman now.”

  “And he . . . ?” Mel watched her closely. “Is he married, too?”

  Adrienne bit her lip and flushed. “No. He’s still single.”

  “Do I have the word stupid printed across my forehead, Adrienne?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Have you seen him outside the office yet?”

  She didn’t answer. Mel got scared and angry at the same time. He jumped off the bed, grabbed his wife, and shook her. “Answer me!” The flickering lights from the television illuminated Mel’s face and made it appear distorted in rage.

  “Yes.” It was a whisper. Adrienne looked frightened.

  He let her go, ashamed, and sat back down. “I don’t care how much he’s paying you. You’re leaving that company.”

  Her eyes were defiant. “I am not leaving the company, and you’d better not ever put your hands on me again, Melvin Jordan.”

  “Or you’ll do what?” he snarled.

  “Stop it, Mel. Have I ever given you reason not to trust me?”

  Mel thought about it. No, Adrienne had never given him reason to think she would be unfaithful—and he certainly shouldn’t be the one doing any finger-pointing—but it wasn’t Adrienne he was worried about. It was that brother. He knew Adrienne and he knew men, men with eyes in their heads just as good as his own. There was no way this Lloyd guy was just giving Adrienne another twenty thousand dollars to “work in his division.” No, something was wrong, whether she wanted to admit it or not. He couldn’t just sit back like a chump and let this man make a play for his woman.

  “Besides, I need the money,” Adrienne pressed.

  Mel knew she was right about that. That was the foul thing. Thanks to her shopping sprees—and his little now-and-then habit—they needed the money now more than ever. When he spoke again, his voice was cold and flat, resigned. “If you’re smart enough to move up in the world, you should be smart enough to know when to shut the fuck up.”

  He turned off the TV and went to sleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Adrienne, Lloyd, and Mallory spent many hours making plans for the start-up of PWE Multicultural. There were dozens of details that had to be worked out. They decided that it didn’t make sense for Mallory to be physically separated from the people who would be reporting to her, so Lloyd had an entire department moved to another floor to free up space for the new venture. The art department was put to work designing stationery, business cards, and brochures according to Mallory’s specifications.

  They met with PWE’s computer wizard and spent hours explaining the number of desktop units, software, networks, and other technology that were necessary. When Lloyd was exhausted, Mallory was still percolating. It was time to choose furniture and divide the space into cubicles for the copywriters, technical stations for the art directors, and offices for the account executives.

  Lloyd seemed bored when it came to Mallory’s color swatches and fabric samples, but he listened anyway. Mallory stood in the center of what would soon be the reception area of PWE Multicultural and declared “The color scheme has to reflect our heritage. Maybe I could use splashes of red, black, and green.”

  Adrienne knew that Lloyd was not going to go for that. She watched as his brows creased.

  “This is not our o
wn private company, Mallory,” Lloyd said. “It’s a division of another. Remember that many of the clients will meet with you here, and most of them will be pretty conservative.”

  She flashed him a brilliant smile. “Don’t look so worried. I was only teasing to see if you were listening. I’ll stick with a little kente cloth and order framed African-American art for the walls.”

  “That’s much better, but still, don’t overdo it. We’re here to make money, and frightened people don’t write checks.”

  Mallory was unfazed. “People have a way of becoming unfrightened when their profits start to soar.”

  Lloyd threw up his hands in resignation. “Fine. How many full-time people do you need?”

  Mallory shrugged. “No more than twenty on the payroll. I have an excellent Rolodex of freelancers.”

  “Very good.” Lloyd stood up. “I’ve got a lot of paperwork to catch up on. Keep me informed.” Mallory waved good-bye and Lloyd walked away.

  She smiled and went back to her swatches. “I refuse to raid the black ad agencies. I’ll fill all the entry-level positions from talented beginners at the various art schools and copywriting workshops around the city. Make a list of them and start making calls today. We’ll use freelancers and small businesses for everything else.”

  Adrienne gazed at her in admiration. Mallory was all soft and pretty on the outside, but she had strong principles.

  “I also need you to put the finishing touches on a press conference that Lloyd and I have planned to launch the new division. What you’ll need to do—and quickly, I might add—is a little research. Please use the media directories in the company library to develop a list of print journalists and TV and radio producers who should be invited. By the time you’re done, there should be at least seventy-five media people on the list. Make sure that equal numbers of African Americans are included. I don’t want them getting the news secondhand. Sally Gomez had one hundred invitations printed, and they arrived today. Pick up the box from her and get them out by tomorrow evening.”

  Adrienne scribbled the instructions as fast as she could, barely keeping pace with Mallory’s fast speech.

  The PWE Research Center took up the entire fourth floor of the building. Behind its glass doors were hundreds of books and periodicals covering every aspect of advertising, consumer demographics, marketing, and public relations.

  Adrienne approached the white, circular reception desk, and a wizened little man gave her a kind smile. His pink scalp had only three long gray hairs on it, and these were oiled and artfully swirled across his shiny pate. Adrienne wondered briefly why the little man bothered with the hairs at all. It would be simpler just to snip those strands off and go bald.

  “Good morning.” She smiled.

  He returned her greeting with a grin and a quick pat of the hairs as though he were concerned about his appearance. “How can I help you?”

  Adrienne explained the project. The little man listened and then pointed toward the opposite end of the room. “What you need are the Bacon’s Media Directories. They list every media outlet in the United States. There’s one for radio, another for magazines, and a third for newspapers. The fourth volume combines TV and cable.”

  Adrienne groaned. “Four volumes! That could take hours. I’ll have to check them out.”

  The little man shook his head vigorously from side to side. “No, ma’am. Those directories can’t leave the center. Sorry.”

  Adrienne bit her lip and thought hard. “Is the information available on disk?”

  “It is, but I’m afraid we don’t carry them. You’d have to contact the Bacon’s company directly. Each disc will run you about a hundred and seventy-five dollars.”

  “That’s a total of seven hundred dollars!”

  “Afraid so, ma’am. You know the Bacon’s directories are organized by city and state. Would you consider just Xeroxing the sections you need? The volumes are pretty heavy, but it’s not impossible.”

  Adrienne wanted to hug the little man. “Of course! I’ll come back and do it at lunchtime.” She wanted to get the press list to Mallory Guest as quickly as possible.

  It was after five when Adrienne was finally able to get back to the library. She found the directories and carried them over to the copier. By the time she found the pages she needed in the first volume and ran off legible copies, it was after nine, and she was bone tired.

  Adrienne picked up the second volume, chose the section she needed, and kept on copying the pages even though her arms ached from lifting the heavy books.

  When she delivered the press list to Mallory’s office the next afternoon, the elegant woman motioned Adrienne into a chair with a simple gesture of one manicured finger. Finally, Mallory looked up. Her face was beaming. “This is perfect!” she announced. “Every name on this list makes sense. It’s a wonderful mix of trade, business, and consumer outlets.”

  “Thank you, Mallory.”

  “On the contrary, Adrienne. I thank you. A press conference can’t be successful unless the appropriate media are invited.”

  Adrienne had never been to a press conference, so she wasn’t sure what the next step was, but surely decisions about the space and seating arrangements needed to be made, and perhaps refreshments ordered. It seemed to Adrienne that although the journalists would hear whatever speeches were planned, there should also be printed information for them to take away from the event. Information with plenty of detail about the new division that would expand on the points made by the speakers. She took a deep breath and shared her ideas with Mallory.

  Mallory nodded. “You’re absolutely right. Go ahead and put it together.”

  On the morning of the press conference, Adrienne was a nervous wreck. She sat on the side of the bed and went over her checklist before she was even able to get dressed. She spoke out loud. “Let’s see, the caterer called yesterday for the final head count and to verify that I ordered bagels, coffee, tea, orange juice, butter, cream cheese, jelly, Danish, and a fruit platter. I ordered a podium, microphone, and videotape recorder. All the press packets have been placed in front of each chair at the table. I typed up both Lloyd’s and Mallory’s speeches and made extra copies. John Elliott’s secretary gave me a copy of his speech, and I have an extra copy of that as well.”

  She chose a mauve suit from her closet and put it on. She used gel to smooth her hair into a perfect French roll and polished her image with a double strand of pearls around her neck and tiny seed pearls in her ears.

  “You look real nice, baby,” Mel drawled from the bed.

  “Thank you.” Adrienne’s tone was crisp. She was still mad about the way he’d behaved when she told him about the job.

  “Does this mean you’ll be home late again?”

  “Maybe. I’ll see you later.”

  She grabbed her coat and purse, gave him a quick kiss, and left.

  Adrienne took a cab to work because she didn’t want to risk any possible ruin to her outfit.

  She went straight to her office and double-checked everything. The media were expected to arrive at 10:00 A.M. Adrienne crossed her fingers and prayed hard.

  By ten-thirty, all the senior executives were gathered in the boardroom, which overlooked the Avenue of the Americas. The food was attractively displayed on the twelve-foot mahogany conference table. The journalists were all helping themselves to breakfast and networking. John Elliott, Lloyd Cooper, and Mallory Guest each greeted the media representatives.

  Adrienne stood in a corner of the room admiring Mallory’s conversational skills, flawless appearance, and polished demeanor as she worked the room. By next year this time, I’ll be just as sophisticated as she is, Adrienne thought.

  John Elliott was the first to speak.

  “I want to welcome all of you to Parton, Webster and Elliott. Thanks for coming out this morning.” He droned on for about fifteen minutes, and then Lloyd took over.

  Lloyd was ablaze with enthusiasm as he passionately promoted his cause.
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  The press conference ended a half hour later, and soon only Adrienne, Lloyd, Mallory, and John Elliott were left in the gigantic room.

  “Brilliant!” exclaimed John. He gave Lloyd a firm handshake. Lloyd accepted the compliment from his boss without any false modesty. His head was held high and his chest puffed out.

  As the two men began to talk privately, Mallory walked over to Adrienne. She looked tired. “Thank you so much, Adrienne; everything was wonderful.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  It was a Saturday afternoon, and Mel was in Debra’s apartment all by himself. Debra and Big Boy had gone to Atlantic City, and his sister needed someone to wait for a package from UPS.

  Mel had to go to a dinner party at Dan’s house in three hours to celebrate Adrienne’s promotion and to meet Lloyd. He wasn’t happy about it at all.

  Why should he want to be in the same room with a man who had slept with his wife? The only reason he was going to this dinner was because Adrienne had insisted.

  Adrienne’s job was all she thought about these days. She was reading a lot of books that had the word marketing in the title, and she worked late almost every night. That meant what he wanted or needed didn’t mean shit. It also meant he should be able to do as he pleased.

  Little Jimmy was on the corner. Mel hesitated slightly as he approached the boy. He had sworn off drugs when he and Adrienne had reunited five months ago. Was this a one-time backslide? Could he handle getting high just today and not do it again tomorrow? He shrugged off the warning thoughts. It will serve Adrienne right if I overdose on drugs. She doesn’t care about me anymore. All she does is talk about Lloyd Cooper and her promotion.

  “How much?” asked Little Jimmy.

  “Half a gram.”

  Back at Debra’s house, he sat down at the kitchen table with a fifth of Bacardi, a liter of Pepsi-Cola, and the cocaine. He took a couple of snorts. The phone started ringing, but Mel wasn’t about to quit. He took two more snorts. He was floating somewhere between Pluto and Uranus. Just as he finished and took a sip of rum straight from the bottle, the phone rang again. This time he answered. It was Adrienne.