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The Other Side of Dare

Page 24

by Vanessa Davis Griggs


  Darius’s was so mad now that his nose was flaring. He could feel it as it flared in and out.

  Lawrence stared at him with equal resolve. “What kind of a man am I?” Lawrence gave a quick, short smile. “Hmmm, now let’s see. I’m the kind of man who knows what he wants to happen and the power to make it so. I take care of my wife. I take care of my children. I take care of my business. And if anyone tries to cross me, I take care of them.”

  “Okay,” Darius said. “What about my last question. Do you have any idea what kind of damage I can do to you?”

  “Certainly. And that and four dollars might . . . might, mind you, get you a Happy Meal from McDonald’s.”

  “You think this is all a joke, don’t you?” Darius stepped up to him.

  “I would advise you to back off.”

  “Or what, old man? What you gonna do if I don’t? Huh?”

  Lawrence leaned over to his desk and pressed the intercom button. “Mattie, send him in, please.”

  “Who you calling? Your lapdog, William. He can’t take me any more than you can. You’re both past your prime.”

  A tall heavy-set man dressed in a security uniform came in.

  “Please escort Mr. Connors here out, will you? He is no longer welcome in our facilities.”

  “You heard him,” the security guard said. “Let’s go.”

  Darius leaned in close to Lawrence’s face. “You just made the wrong call this time, Representative Simmons. You see: I’ve figured it out. I know the whole truth about you now.”

  Lawrence moved his face in to Darius’s. “You don’t know anything.”

  Darius turned to the guard. “My man, can you step out for a minute. It will just take a minute. I don’t want you overhearing what I’m going to drop on your boss here.”

  The security guard looked at Lawrence.

  Lawrence nodded his okay. “You can wait outside. He’ll only be a minute.”

  After the guard left, Lawrence sat down. “Say what’s on your mind, son, so you can get to stepping out of my office and permanently out of my life.”

  Darius sat down and leaned in closer to Lawrence. “You and Gabrielle slept together when she was living with your daughter Paris. She got pregnant and gave the baby up for adoption. The child needed a transplant. You and Gabrielle teamed up, quite ingeniously if I may say so, and saved the child’s life. How am I doing so far?”

  Lawrence kept his facial expression the same. “Go on,” Lawrence said. “You have thirty seconds left.

  Darius sat back against his chair. “The adoptive mother dies. Gabrielle gets a chance to get her daughter back. Everything is going along smoothly. But then a hiccup comes along when Paris becomes convinced that you’re Jasmine’s birth father. Only thing: Paris gets it all wrong. Unbeknownst to Paris, she thinks you had an affair with Jessica, the adoptive mother. Jessica and Jasmine: J and J. Cute, huh? Anyway, Paris thinks the two of you had an affair because your youngest daughter is a perfect match for who Paris now believes is your youngest child. The two girls looking like sisters didn’t hurt Paris’s theory. Of course, Paris doesn’t know at the time that Jasmine is adopted. She doesn’t know that she’s gotten that part wrong. She learns that Gabrielle had a baby and gave her up for adoption and this same baby just happens to be Jasmine. Paris puts two and two together and comes up with three.”

  “Two and two is four,” Lawrence said.

  “Yeah. I know. That’s the problem. She had the numbers right; she just came up with the wrong answer. Paris thinks that if Gabrielle had a baby around that time, then the father of Gabrielle’s baby could be her husband, Andrew’s, or some exboyfriend she’s convinced Gabrielle slept with. The part she forgot to add into the equation is that Jasmine is somehow connected to you. I, being the smart man that I am, who by the way, excelled brilliantly in math, figured that you also had access to Gabrielle during that time. I figured out that you got Gabrielle pregnant and she gave the baby up for adoption. Miraculously, the child comes back into her life, but possibly causing major problems for you, the least being your political career. But let’s face it, Lawrence: You’re not going to win reelection. You and I know that.”

  “Is that so?”

  “You know you’re not. But”—Darius held his index finger in the air—“you can lose your wife. Your children can stop having anything to do with you. After they learn how you cheated on their mother and with a teenage girl to boot.” Darius shook his head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Such a disgrace. So you see, Lawrence, you’re going to give me my job back. And you and I are going to pretend that none of this ever happened.”

  “You make some good points,” Lawrence said. “But I don’t think so.”

  “Listen, I’m a man on the edge right now. My wife wants to leave me. Ironically, she found out about my affair with Fatima, the one you threw in my face once. You’re trying to fire me from my job. My wife . . . I can handle. She’ll come to her senses soon enough; she always does. But I don’t need to be worrying about a job, not at this point.” Darius stood up and held out his hand to shake Lawrence’s. “So, we have an understanding here?”

  Lawrence stood up and looked down at Darius’s awaiting hand. “I have one question though. Well, maybe two.”

  Darius lowered his hand. “Okay. Hit me.”

  Lawrence chuckled. “Tempting choice of words. But I know what you mean. Okay, your wife wants you gone. I want you gone. Looks to me like you’re going to have your hands full trying to convince your wife that she can trust you, learning of your affair with Fatima. And then there’s my darling daughter, Paris, who probably won’t be excited about having to explain to Andrew why she slept with you the other night. But do you know the best part?” Lawrence laughed as he lowered his head, then stopped laughing on a dime and stared hard at Darius. “The best part will be you trying to convince your wife why you slept with my daughter.”

  “Then it sounds like we’ll all be busy, because your wife is not going to be happy about your extracurricular affair, either.”

  “True. But I have money put away so I’ll be all right if I’m forced to start all over. Don’t get me wrong now: I love my wife. I love her dearly. And if this comes out, I will fight hard to make sure she remains my wife. But the difference in my affair and yours is that mine was some ten years ago. Yours is not even a week old.”

  “But you have a lot more to lose than me,” Darius said.

  “If you go forward with this, we’ll certainly find out.” Lawrence sneered at him. “I told you from the start not to dare cross me. You didn’t heed my warning back then. Now you find yourself on the other side of dare. What you do from this point on will determine whether or not I break you completely. I pray that you choose better than this last time.”

  “You’re not going to get away with this. I don’t know how you managed to know so much about my personal life or how you set this all up, but you’re going to get yours someday. I promise you that.”

  “You mean like you appear to be getting yours?” Lawrence held out an open hand. “Now, I need the keys to the company car.”

  “Then how am I supposed to get home?”

  “Not my problem. I’m sure you can find someone to come and pick you up or give you a ride home. If not, there’s always a taxi.”

  Darius took the keys to the car from his pocket and slammed them down on the desk. He stared hard at Lawrence, and with grit in his voice, said, “This isn’t over. By no means is this over!”

  “Yes, Mr. Connors. As far as you and I go, it is.” He matched Darius’s stare until Darius stood up straight. “Oh, and, Darius?”

  Darius looked at him without saying a word.

  “Close the door on your way out. Good day to you.” He lowered his head, sat back down, and went back to writing in his notebook.

  Chapter 43

  By honor and dishonor, by evil report and good report: as deceivers, and yet true.

  —2 Corinthians 6:8

  Darius went to his off
ice to pack up his things. Without a way home now, he was planning to ask Paris to take him. She wasn’t there. He called to see where she was, but didn’t get an answer. He then called Tiffany, who wouldn’t answer her phone or call him back. He called his friend Big Red, but his call went straight to voice mail. After calling a few other people, he finally just called for a taxi. Arriving home, he continued trying to reach Paris. He was worried about her now. This made three days straight she hadn’t come in. It took two hours from the first time he’d called her number, but she finally answered. The way his life was going lately, he wasn’t sure what to expect.

  “What’s going on?” Paris said. “Why are you blowing up my phone every five minutes? There were twenty-three missed calls, all from you.”

  “Where are you?” Darius asked.

  “I’m at home. Where do you think?”

  “What are you doing at home? And don’t tell me you overslept. Nobody sleeps for three days straight; I don’t care how tired you are.”

  “No one told you?”

  “Told me what?”

  “I was let go. Or as William and my father put it: downsized.”

  Darius paused a second. “They let you go?”

  “Yes. Yesterday to be exact. They say the campaign is not going the way they were hoping. Campaign contributions are way down. Daddy said he’d have to let one of us go. So I told him he could cut me. I was tired of working anyway. And I miss my Ambrosia.”

  “Ambrosia?”

  “You remember my baby . . . my puppy: Ambrosia. She’s been over at my folks’ house.”

  “Oh, yeah, your puppy, the Maltese. So they let you go and told you they were keeping me?” Darius said.

  “That’s what they said,” Paris said.

  “Well, they lied. They let me go today.”

  “No. Are you for real?”

  “Yep. Just one more thing to add to the pile of things that are going wrong in my life.”

  “I’m sorry. But maybe it’s all for the best. I mean the two of us not working together. I’m sure you’ll find another job quick enough. With the work you did for my father, I’m certain he and William will give you a great recommendation.”

  “I don’t know about either of them giving me a recommendation, great or otherwise.”

  “Listen, Darius. I want to thank you for everything. You were a good friend. I thank you for lending me your ear. And you were right: We did make a great team. But right now, my marriage is on the rocks. Seriously. At least, what was left of it.”

  “Sounds like trouble in paradise. Sounds like a lot of that’s going around these days.”

  “Andrew is not happy right now. In fact, I’ve never seen him this upset about anything, not ever. I did something really dumb and completely insensitive.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “I’m not talking about what you and I did together the other night,” Paris said. “And can we not ever bring that up again, please? I’d really like to forget that ever happened. Okay?”

  “Sure. Suits me just fine. But I wasn’t talking about what you and I did. I was talking about your little trip to Gabrielle’s place.”

  “How do you know about that? Who told you about that?”

  “My wife is upset and, in fact, she blasted me big-time about it last night. She wants to leave me. It’s a huge mess for sure.”

  “She wants to leave you over what I did? That makes no sense.”

  “She thinks I told you about Gabrielle being Jasmine’s birth mother.”

  “That’s ridiculous. She wants to leave you about something like that? And people have the nerve to call me a drama queen.”

  “Gabrielle is stirring up trouble. She’s upset because you went over there and stirred up a whirlwind. She accused my wife of divulging that information to me. And knowing that you and I work together—correction, worked together—my dear wife came to the conclusion that I must have told you, which means I betrayed her confidence and the sanctimony of our marriage.”

  “Did you tell her you weren’t the one who gave me that information?”

  “I tried. She didn’t believe me. It’s funny: Every time I tell her the absolute truth, she doesn’t believe me. You were the one who told me. I only confirmed it.”

  “Would you like for me to call and talk to her?” Paris said. “I owe you that much.”

  “No. But thanks for the offer. I’ll work it out somehow. I’ve been in the situation before, and we’re still together. At heart, Tiffany is a real softie. She cares about family. In the beginning, she’s always upset. But after a few days . . . tops, she’ll settle down and come to her senses. She hates being mad me. She knows it, and I know it.”

  “Okay. But if you change your mind, let me know. Otherwise, it’s been nice working with you these past few months,” Paris said. “Pray for me. Andrew is also really upset. I don’t know how I’m going to make this right. I really messed things up. I wish I could have a do-over. I would definitely have left this part of it alone. But that’s what happens when you go too far. Every relationship has a breaking point.”

  “As they say: live and learn,” Darius said. “Good luck with everything. You say a prayer for me, and I’ll say one for you.”

  “I believe in prayer, but I think it’s going to take more than prayer to help me on this. I guess I just need a plan.”

  “If I’m not mistaken, that’s what got you into this.”

  “Maybe. But learning Andrew was representing my enemy, I’d say I wasn’t the only double-dealing, double-crosser in our marriage.”

  After Paris said good-bye, he clicked off his phone only for it to ring before he could put it up. He looked down at the number and smiled.

  “Big Red! What up?”

  “I saw where you called.” Big Red had a deep bass voice that rumbled.

  Darius scratched his head. He didn’t want to come out asking for anything right off the bat. If Tiffany stuck to her guns, he just might need a place to hang out until things blew over. “I was just checking on you. You and your old lady still having problems?”

  “Naw, man. We good. She talked me into going down to that church where you and your old lady go and I talked to that pastor. He cool, man. Real cool. He speak straight up truth. And he ain’t one of them religious nuts, either. You know how I feel about preachers now. DC”—he called him DC, short for Darius Connors—“man, some of them preachers turned me completely away from ever wanting to step foot in a church. But this one here . . . that Pastor Landris . . . he helped me see that I needed to grow up and get myself together. He pulled out this scripture and whipped it on me where it talked about when I was a child, I spoke as a child. But when I became a man, I put away childish things. It was like a lightbulb lit up in my head. I saw just as clearly that it was time for me to grow up and be a man.”

  “I hear you. So you’re going to my church now with the wifey? Have you joined or are you planning on joining?”

  “Yeah, man. I joined last week. I saw Tiff; I thought she told you.”

  “Nah, she didn’t say a word. But that’s cool, man. I guess that means we’ll probably run into each other there sometimes.”

  “You know, DC, it’s time for you to grow up, too,” Big Red said.

  Darius laughed. “Man, I’m good. My wife ain’t complaining. No more than most wives typically do, you know what I’m saying?”

  “That’s not what I been hearing. Hey, man, you ate lunch yet?”

  “No. I’ve been sort of taking care of business.”

  “Then let’s meet for lunch. Can you get away now? My treat,” Big Red said.

  “What time?”

  “It’s lunchtime now. I’ll see you when you get there.”

  Darius laughed. “And I don’t even have to ask where.”

  “You know it. There ain’t but one place I’ll fork over my hard-earned money. I like to get what I pay for and then some.”

  “And Sadie’s don’t play!” they said in unison. />
  “I’ll see you shortly.” Darius hung up, looked at his phone, and smiled. Especially after the past two days he’d had, maybe things were about to start looking up. “Lord,” he said, his head to the ceiling. “I pray so. A brother needs a break down here.”

  Chapter 44

  Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.

  —Galatians 6:7

  Darius walked into Sadie’s and looked around. Big Red was easy enough to spot. He didn’t get the name Big Red for nothing. Darius walked over to the booth, gave Big Red a manly hug, then they pounded fists, and both sat down.

  “It’s been a minute since I’ve been here,” Darius said.

  “I know I ain’t seen you around here in a few moons.”

  “How’s your mother?” Darius asked, sitting back comfortably in the seat.

  “She all right. You know Mama.”

  “Yeah, Sadie hasn’t slowed down since I’ve known her.”

  “She slowing down a bit these days. She say she done did her part. Now it’s our turn to step up and take over things. You know me. I love to eat, but I love fixing cars just as much. One of my older sisters quit her job, so she running things around here. I told them I’ll do my part by bringing them my money and lots of hungry stomachs with plenty of money.”

  “Which sister is it?” Darius knew Big Red had four older sisters; he was the baby boy his mother called “the change baby” since she’d had him at age forty-seven while going through “the change.”

  “Clarice. Clarice can throw down in the kitchen just like Mama. Mama still come here, but she don’t stay all day like she used to. She eighty-one years old now. I guess she really done did her stint. I told her it don’t make no sense to be greedy. She draw Social Security and get paid from here. She say Social Security might go broke. But God blesses the chile who got his own.”

 

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