The Little Girl

by Stacy-Deanne

  “Then why were you arrested?” Dex took out his silver pen. “I should kick the shit out of you.”

  “Here you go, Mr. Reinhardt.” The officer laid the papers in front of him. “Please sign everywhere you see an X.”

  “Unbelievable.” He scribbled his signature on the sheet. “How stupid can you be?”

  Nate touched the Band-Aid on his forehead. “I’m the one who got hit, and I get arrested for assault?”

  “Damn right.” Dex flicked through the papers to make sure he’d signed them all. “Zayden and your dumbass friends incited a riot at the community center.”

  “It wasn’t our faults.” Nate held out his flabby arms. “We were checking out that meeting. We weren’t trying to cause trouble.”

  “And somehow you idiots got the idea it would be good to go to Khadija’s meeting?”

  “I didn’t know Zayden was gonna start nothing.”

  “Just shut it.” Dex handed the papers to the officer. “You had no business with Zayden any damn way. I told you to stay away from those guys.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Reinhardt.” The officer looked over the papers. “He’s free to go.”

  “Move your fat ass.” Dex pushed Nate out the entrance.

  “I’m sorry, all right?”

  Dex glanced back at him but kept walking. “Do you want to go to prison?”

  “Fuck, no.” Nate struggled to keep up in run over combat boots. “Okay, I didn’t listen to you and I was wrong. But, I missed my friends.”

  “Your friends are bad news. How many times you need to hear that?” Dex took out the remote to his car as they continued across the parking lot. “I want your ass to stay away from them and I mean it. I have to evoke sympathy for you and how can I do that if you’re hanging around racists?”

  “Man,” Nate mumbled.

  “Stop mumbling and pouting like a baby all the time.” Dex stopped at his shiny black Porsche 911 GTS. “You’re twenty-seven. Get in the damn car!”

  Nate stomped to the passenger’s side and got in the car. “You don’t understand what I’m going through.”

  Dex got in and fastened his seat belt. “What about what Presley Mills is going through?”

  “I’ve been so depressed.” Nate rubbed the faded thighs of his jeans. “I just wanted to get out the house.”

  “You had no business going to that meeting.” Dex started the car. “And you can drop the innocent act with me. You’re stupid but you’re not this stupid.” He sped toward the exit of the parking lot. “You and Zayden wanted to intimidate those people.” He turned the radio to his favorite alternative rock station. “If you want me to continue being your attorney, then you better do what I say from now on. I’m taking you home and I want you to stay your fat ass there until I say you can leave.”

  “What?” Nate scrunched up his face. “I’m a grown ass man.”

  “You leave that house and I’m dropping the case.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “Yeah?” Dex stopped at a red light. “Just try me.”

  ****

  A single, red rose popped out from behind Sonjay as she erased the board after her last class.

  “Guess who.”

  She didn’t have to guess. That cologne and the way her body trembled when he stood near her burrowed into her soul.

  She faced him and peeked over his shoulder at the door. “I can’t believe you came here.”

  Dex pushed the rose to her nose. “My day didn’t go too well, so I had to see your beautiful face.” He put his arm around her, going for a kiss.

  “No.” She turned back around and erased the last sentence off the board. “Do you even care what would happen if someone saw you here?”

  “Nope.” He tossed the rose on her desk. “It’s like you say, we’re drawn to each other.”

  “We can’t be this reckless, Dex. You want someone to find out?”

  He leaned against her desk. “You dumped Klein yet?”

  “Nope and won’t.”

  “You want to spend the rest of your life miserable with a man you can’t even stand to kiss?”

  “Is that a crack about his looks?”

  He sighed, widening his blazer.

  “Everyone can’t be a GQ model like you, Dex.” She dusted chalk from her hands. “Klein makes me happy in his own way.”

  “I don’t get it. Why is he better for you than I am?”

  “You said you’re having a bad day.” She stood beside him, crossing her arms. “What happened?”

  “You know the brawl at the community center last night?”

  “Yeah. Zayden and his racist, redneck buddies started a fight with the people at Khadija’s meeting.”

  “Nate was with them like a dumbass, got arrested and I got him out.”

  Sonjay dropped her arms. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  “I didn’t want to do it, but his momma begged me.”

  “So you’re cleaning his messes now?”

  “This case is wearing on me and the trial hasn’t even started yet.” He stretched. “One part of me hates doing it, but I have to help him. People warned me that when I became a defense attorney, there would be cases that tested me.”

  “Pull out and let him get another attorney.”

  “I can’t do that, sweetheart.” He touched her hand, slipping his fingers between hers. “It’s my duty.”

  “You’ve known Presley since she was a baby. She thinks of you as a part of the family. How can you defend that man, Dex?”

  “It’s my duty.” He closed his eyes, nostrils flaring. “That’s all I can say.”

  “Do you want him to get off because I’m not sure you do?”

  He peeked at her through his lashes. “I never take a case unless I intend to win.”

  “I’m so two-faced. I’m fucking the man whose defending Nate Lancaster.”

  “Yeah, well.” He got off the desk. “It’s a shitty situation but we can’t control it.”

  “What do we do?” She played with a button on his shirt. “I can’t stay away from you.”

  He laid his forehead on hers. “You answered your own question.”

  “I love you.” She hugged him, inhaling his oak cologne. “I wish I didn’t.”

  He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I wish I didn’t love you too.”

  ****

  A Week Later

  Anderson and Channing entered the Grand Ballroom of the Bombeck Hotel. “Thanks for being my date.”

  Channing’s face lit up when their feet hit the maroon carpeting printed with elegant gold circles. “I didn’t say I was your date.”

  He raised an eyebrow, touching the curve of her back. “I’m putting my stamp on you, Channing.”

  She radiated in her off-white, sleeveless lace-bodice gown. “Don’t I get a say in this?”

  “Nope.” He winked. “In Boston, men go after what we want.”

  “Well this isn’t Boston.” She shot him a flirtatious glance over her shoulder. “I’m anything but easy.”

  He brushed up against her. “Promise?”

  Men in tuxedos twirled stunning women in shimmering gowns underneath the recessed dome lightening as the small orchestra on the stage played “In The Mood”.

  They stopped at a banquet table tended to by servers in vests and bow ties.

  The tall, scrawny female server asked, “Shrimp cocktail, sir?”

  “Thanks.” Anderson tapped Channing’s shoulder to get her attention as she admired the party. “You want one?”

  “Nah. I don’t want to waste anything on my dress.”

  The server handed Anderson the shrimp cocktail on shredded lettuce. “Thanks again.” He and Channing coasted from the table. “I can’t get over how lovely you look tonight. Not that you aren’t always beautiful.”

  She blushed.

  “Try to have fun tonight, okay?”

  “I can’t stop thinking about Presley.” She squeezed her strapless, sequin purse. “Wha
t if she wakes up?”

  “The hospital will call you if that happens.” The robust flavor of the appetizer shocked Anderson’s taste buds. “Sure you don’t want one?”

  She snatched his hand, jolting him. “I’m gonna burst if I don’t tell someone this.”

  “What?”

  “You know Laverne Bradley?”

  “Of course. She’s only the hottest talk show host on TV.”

  “Well.” Channing swayed, her sequins sparkling. “Her producer called me this afternoon. Laverne wants to interview me about Presley.”

  “What?” Anderson howled, catching suspicious glances from debonair couples. “Man, are you serious? Channing, this is wonderful.”

  “You were right. Presley’s story is important and how can I complain about a lack of change if I don’t do my part? I’d hate for any parent to go through this. Presley deserves justice and I’m gonna make sure she gets it.”

  “That’s wonderful.” He scooped her into a hug. “I’m glad you’ve changed your mind.”

  “I’ve been luckier than many parents.” She pulled away from him, eyes watering. “Presley’s still alive so I need to fight for her while I can.”

  “Presley’s lucky to have a mother like you.” He kissed her nose, wanting to go farther even in a room of crowded people. “When is this interview happening?”

  “The producer will get back with me tomorrow to set it up. They offered to fly me to New York but I’m not comfortable being on TV so they’ll let me do it by phone.”

  “Channing, this is big. Laverne was instrumental in getting attention for Trayvon Martin. You won’t be hiding anymore.”

  “Good.” She bounced on her metallic, ankle-strapped heels. “I’ve been hiding far too long.”

  “Dance with me?” He threw the napkin in the wastebasket.

  “Glad you finally asked.”

  Anderson took Channing’s hand and escorted her to a spot on the ballroom floor.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Sonjay made a beeline to Anderson and Channing, bumping into couples who drank champagne by the stage. “Excuse me, Anderson.” She fidgeted in her navy blue wrap dress with a slit up to her hoo-ha. “I need to borrow my sister. Is that okay?” Before he answered, she pulled Channing to a table.

  “Girl, what the hell is your problem?” Channing snatched away from her. “I’m sure the last thing you want is to embarrass Klein.”

  Sonjay spun Channing in the opposite direction. “Look.”

  Dex stood by the entrance, putting every man to shame in a black tux with a satin collar and a sexy, wide-eyed blonde on his arm.

  “Shit,” Channing whispered. “What the hell is Dex doing here?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know and he’s with Bridgette East.”

  Channing squinted. “Wasn’t she Miss Thompsonville five times in a row?”

  “Four,” Sonjay growled, wanting to snatch every bleach-blonde hair from Bridgette’s scalp. “I can’t believe he showed up with another woman. How could he do this?”

  “Are you for real? You’re engaged to another man. Who are you to demand loyalty?”

  “But Bridgette East?” Sonjay stomped the heel of her diamond-studded stiletto sandal. “That twit?”

  Dex and Bridgette mingled, talking to guests.

  “What the hell is he doing here?” Sonjay asked.

  “I don’t care, and I’m going back to Anderson.”

  “What?”

  “You kept telling me to relax and give Anderson a chance well I’m trying to do that.” Channing straightened the skirt of her gown. “So let me enjoy this.”

  “Channing?” Sonjay reached for Channing but she scurried away. “Shit.” When she turned back around, Dex was staring at her with that sly grin.

  He whispered to that twat Bridgette, she nodded, and he headed toward Sonjay.

  Sonjay pivoted in the other direction, rushing through guests.

  He caught up with her and grabbed her arm before she left through the side exit. “Are you trying to avoid me?”

  “More like forget you.”

  “That dress.” He sucked his lip. “Wasn’t Rihanna wearing one just like it at the American Music Awards?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Cut it out, Dex. What are you doing here—?”

  “Yes that is Rihanna’s dress.” He snapped his fingers. “It didn’t look half as good on her.”

  “Blow it out your ass.” She ran through the side door ending up in the empty, adjoining reception lounge.

  Dex sauntered behind her. “You can’t get away.”

  “Leave me alone.” She hurried through the little tables. “I don’t wanna talk to you.”

  “Where the hell are you going?”

  She looked behind decorative curtains that covered the walls. “How do you get out of here? Isn’t there a door?”

  “You look great in that dress.” He clicked his jaw. “You’d look better out of it.”

  She faced him, the slit exposing damn near everything.

  “Mm.” He cocked his head to the side. “No woman gets me harder than you.”

  “Not even Bridgette? How could you show up and with that bimbo?”

  “The mayor invited Bridgette and she invited me.” He put his hands in his pockets. “She figures the pageant queen showing up with Thompsonville’s Most Eligible Bachelor would get her some easy press. No more and no less.”

  “I’m supposed to believe her draped over your arm like a floozy is a favor to her?”

  “I don’t care what you believe.”

  She stomped toward him. “Are you fucking her?”

  “Who are you to demand an explanation when you’re with another man?” His eyes twinkled. “Now maybe you understand how I feel when you go home to Klein every night.”

  “Fine, I don’t care.” She breezed past him and he grabbed her arm.

  “Yes, you do.”

  “No, I don’t.” She tried to break free, but he was too strong. “You can have Bridgette or any woman you want. I don’t give a damn.”

  “The only woman I want is you.”

  She hurried out the room.

  “Sonjay!”

  ****

  Anderson stepped out on the hotel balcony. “Mayor Bordeaux?”

  “Mr. Abraham.” Bordeaux’s chubby, rosy cheeks spread. “How are you?”

  “Fine.”

  “What brings you out here?” Bordeaux took a drag from his cigarette. “Ah, that’s heaven. My doctor wants me to quit, claiming I’m too old to be smoking.” He sat in the suede chair with the tall back. “I told him the cigarettes keep me alive.”

  They laughed.

  “I need something to take my mind off the stress.” Bordeaux crossed his legs, looking over the balcony. “It ain’t easy being me. I’ll tell you that.”

  “I can imagine.” Anderson sauntered to the railing and peeked over it. “Thompsonville is a beautiful city. I’m glad I came tonight.”

  Bordeaux smiled. “Any friend of Klein’s is a friend of mine.”

  Anderson faced him, propping his elbows on the railing. “You value him a lot I see.”

  “Klein’s like my shadow. I wouldn’t be able to do anything without him. I’ve never met someone who works so hard and is so determined. He’s driven like I was at his age.”

  “He feels indebted to you. He says you’re making a run for Governor.”

  “I plan to.” Bordeaux shook his foot.

  “If you were Governor, what would you do about the current drinking and driving laws? Would someone like Nate Lancaster be free on bail if you ran the state?”

  “I should’ve known you didn’t come out here just to shoot the breeze.” Bordeaux’s forehead wrinkled as he leaned up, fixing his white tuxedo jacket. “You want a story from me.” He stood. “Not happening here, Mr. Abraham.”

  Anderson leapt in front of him. “This is Sonjay’s niece. Don’t you care?”

  He waved his cigarette, smoke floating from th
e corner of his mouth. “I can’t take sides in this.”

  “You mean you won’t. Let me get you on the record for my story.”

  “For you to make me out as the villain? Too late for that.”

  “I’ll give you a chance to address this in your own words. I’m not trying to dictate anything here.”

  “You’re telling me you’re not personally involved? I saw you dancing with Channing Mills. This story doesn’t seem to be the only thing on your mind. This isn’t about me. I didn’t put Presley Mills in that hospital.”

  “You didn’t punish the man who did.”

  “I’m not the damn law.” Bordeaux spread his arms out. “It’s for the court to decide not me.”

  “You’re the mayor. You can snap your fingers and Nate would be back in jail within minutes.”

  Bordeaux got in Anderson’s face. “Leave or I’ll—”

  “What?” Anderson moved closer, staring the shorter man in his eyes. “Throw me out? That would be the first action I’ve seen you take since I’ve been in this town.”

  “Anderson.” Klein rushed to him. “What the hell are you doing? Who do you think you’re talking to like that?”

  “Klein?” Bordeaux stomped out his cigarette. “I’m not taking disrespect at my party. It’s bad enough I got the media breathing down my back.” He gestured in Anderson’s direction without looking at him. “This is your trash, you take it out.” He marched off the balcony.

  “What the hell is your problem?” Klein shoved Anderson, sweat clinging to the sides of his face. “This is my career you’re messing with, man.”

  “Jesus.” Anderson shook his head. “I didn’t want to believe it but your career is all you care about.”

  “I don’t have to explain myself to you.” Klein panted. “That man has done more for me than anyone ever has. He was there for me even when you weren’t. I owe him my life.”

  “God, you’ve sold out. What happened to the guy from college who stuck up for what he believed in no matter the cost? We’re talking about family here, Klein.”

  “You don’t think this is killing me?” He pounded his chest. “It makes me sick to think of Presley hurt, but I can’t take sides in this.”

  “Wow. Maybe you would make a good politician. You’re good at doing nothing while making excuses for it.”