Attorney-Client Privilege

by Pamela Samuels Young

  “I’m sorry,” Jane mumbled. “I’ll bring another cup.”

  Rita waved her away. “Just forget it. I guess I’ll have to make it myself.”

  Girlie wanted to jump to the poor woman’s defense and set Rita straight. It was just like Rita to pick on the weak. Girlie learned from her former partner that Jane had been the longtime executive assistant to Big Buy founder, Harlan Kimble. They’d shared a close relationship, which Rita had always resented. In an effort to protect her, Harlan’s will mandated that Jane receive four-hundred-thousand dollars if she was terminated before reaching the company’s retirement age of sixty-two.

  Harlan had assumed the provision would protect his beloved assistant, but it had just the opposite effect. Rita didn’t want to keep Jane on and she also didn’t want to pay her four-hundred grand to leave. So instead, Rita treated her like a dog, hoping she would quit.

  Everyone waited for the uncomfortable silence to fade.

  Evelyn finally found her voice. “Girlie and I have been discussing a number of strategies for dealing with this situation,” she explained. “We’ve also retained a PR firm from New York which specializes in crisis management. They’re putting together a PR plan to get our side of the story out there.”

  Rita pounded the table again. “I just want to know how fast you can make this nonsense go away.”

  “If you really want to resolve this quickly, we should approach the other side about settlement,” Girlie said. “In another case, we agreed to put the court proceedings on hold, then conducted some limited discovery and proceeded to mediation. We got rid of the case in about three months. I suspect we can do the same here.”

  “Three months!” Rita screamed. “That’s not fast enough. The Welson deal is supposed to close in eight weeks. I’ve already gotten a call from the company’s general counsel asking about this mess. I told him we have it under control.”

  Girlie’s hands tightened around the arms of her chair, but she wished she could wrap them around Rita’s neck.

  “There is another approach we can take that could put an end to the case almost immediately. It’ll be costly, but not nearly as costly as a class action.”

  She briefly summarized her plan. The board members listened, but said nothing. Girlie realized that everyone was waiting to hear what Rita thought before expressing their own opinion.

  Rita bit down on her ink pen and rocked back in her leather chair. “I like it. I like it a lot.”

  Now that Rita thought it was a great idea, so did the board. Evelyn remained mute.

  Girlie smiled at her own brilliance. She was certain that her clever little plan would quickly short-circuit the class action. And by the time Vernetta saw it coming, there would be absolutely nothing she could do about it.

  CHAPTER 49

  It was unusual for Jefferson to be privy to information about my best friend that I didn’t know. So his call telling me that Special and Clayton had broken up was a bit of a shock.

  I immediately hung up and called Special’s office. One of her co-workers told me she’d been out sick for the second day in a row. I drove straight to her house, even though she hadn’t answered her home phone or cell. The fact that Special had not bothered to tell me about the breakup meant that she was really in bad shape.

  I knocked on the door, but got no response. I was about to leave when I heard the approach of footsteps. When she finally opened the door, all I could do was stare. She did not look like a wreck. Her skin had a bronzy glow and her makeup had been expertly applied, complete with eyelash extensions. Her micro braids had been replaced with a shoulder-length weave streaked with reddish-brown highlights. The tight, short-sleeved shirt and black jeans made her look like a Banana Republic model.

  “Hey, girl, what’s up?” She stepped aside to welcome me in.

  “I ran over here to check up on you.”

  “And why would I need checking up on?”

  “Because you broke up with Clayton and didn’t bother to tell me.”

  She crossed her arms and fixed her lips with indignation. “He called to tell you we broke up?”

  “No. He told Jefferson, who told me.”

  I followed her into the living room where we sat down on the couch.

  Special let out a heavy sigh. “I wasn’t ready to tell anybody yet. Not even you. I guess I didn’t want to hear I told you so.”

  “I wouldn’t have said that.”

  “Probably not. But you definitely would have been thinking it. I just had to get myself together first.”

  “So you’re okay about it?”

  “Nope.” She tried to smile, but halfway there it faltered.

  “Well, you certainly look good.”

  This time her attempt at a smile was more successful. “Girl, you know me. Whenever I feel like crap on the inside, at least I can fake it by looking good on the outside. After lying in bed crying all day yesterday, today I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself. I went to the gym this morning and worked out really hard. Then I had a facial and got my hair and nails done.”

  She spread out her bony fingers for me to see. Then her eyes started to water.

  I reached over and gave her a big hug. As I did, I glanced over her shoulder and was surprised at what I saw sitting on the coffee table next to the couch. A large leather-bound Qur’an sat next to a Bible. Both were open.

  “I see you’ve been doing some reading.”

  She followed my eyes to the coffee table, then picked up the Qur’an.

  “You know what the weird thing is? Since Clayton and I broke up, I’ve been reading the Holy Qur’an. I mean really reading it. Before I was only doing it because Clayton wanted me to. But now, I’m doing it for me.”

  She set it in her lap and ran her hands over the cover.

  “Thank God, I got into the habit of praying five times a day. That’s the only thing that’s gotten me through the last couple of days. Ain’t that a trip? I’ve been fighting Islam all along, but it’s brought me peace when I really needed it.”

  My eyebrows fused in surprise. “Are you saying you couldn’t have found that same sense of peace with Christianity?”

  “I’ve been reading the Bible too. I’ve always loved Psalms. I guess I’m trying to figure out what I really believe spiritually. I was brought up as a Christian and I’ve never questioned that. But for the first time in my life, I’m taking a deeper look at my faith. I guess I have my experience with Islam to thank for that.”

  I didn’t know what else to say, so I decided to lighten the mood. “I know how we can get you and Clayton back together. We can kidnap him and get him deprogrammed.”

  Special flinched. “Clayton doesn’t need deprogramming.” There was a defensiveness in her tone and the narrowing of her eyes echoed it.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Yes, you did. Everybody thinks anybody who joins the Community of Islam is a black racist, but that’s not true. I understand Clayton’s attraction to the Community. They’re about helping black people help themselves. But the reality is, I’m just not committed enough to make the kind of sacrifices he’s willing to make.”

  She hung her head, then laughed softly. “Especially if it means I have to spend all my time at the mosque and give up Long Island Iced Teas and pork. I’m kinda shallow, huh?”

  I laughed. “Not at all. I’m actually impressed at how you’re handling this. I ran over here expecting to find a basket case.”

  She slapped her thigh. “You shoulda been here yesterday. But I got tired of waking up in the fetal position, with puffy eyes and Don King hair. So this morning I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself.” She stood up. “I wanna show you something.”

  I followed her over to the dining room table. Papers and brochures covered the table.

  “I’ve been researching my new career.” She held up a brochure entitled Do You Have What it Takes to be a Private Investigator?

  “So you’re really serious
about this?”

  “Yep. I’m just trying to decide whether I want to take night classes or do it online.”

  “You’ll make a great private investigator,” I said.

  Her eyes twinkled with hope. “Does that mean you’re going to hire me for one of your cases once I get my license?”

  “Uh…I’m not sure we should work together. It might ruin our friendship.”

  “That’s cold. You should hire me to look into Lamarr’s case. I still say Tonisha set him up. Maybe I can find some information you can use in his appeal.”

  “Appealing that case is an exercise in futility. No court’s going to overturn the jury’s verdict. So don’t waste your time.”

  “Okay,” she said with a syrupy smile. “Whatever you say.”

  “I’m not playing, Special. Leave it alone. Don’t go nosing around in that case.”

  She placed a hand on her hip. “Okay, okay. Want something to drink? All I have is cranberry juice. I drained my secret stash of wine last night.”

  I followed her into the kitchen where she filled two glasses and handed one to me.

  I glanced down at her ringless finger. “So did Clayton take the ring back?”

  “Nope.”

  “Are you going to give it back?”

  “Nope.” She smiled sheepishly. “I also visited a couple of jewelry stores today. Got it appraised.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  “’Cuz you know me. Clayton was a lot of things, but the brother definitely wasn’t cheap.” She picked up her purse from the kitchen counter, took out a red velvet box and popped it open.

  “This bad boy right here,” she said, pulling out the ring, “is gonna finance my new career and allow me to spend a couple weeks in Jamaica getting my groove back.”

  CHAPTER 50

  Mankowski sat on the side of the bed, dressed in nothing but his blue silk boxers, sending silent messages of thanks straight up to God.

  At this very moment, the smart, gorgeous, incredibly sexy Girlie Cortez was in the bathroom—his bathroom—showering. The anticipation of what was about to occur might just cause his heart to give out.

  As he was imagining the touch of her creamy skin rubbing against his, she walked out of the bathroom. Completely naked. No robe, no negligee, not even a towel.

  She gave him a smile that was so tantalizing he thought he might come right that second.

  “Hope I wasn’t too long.”

  “Not at all.”

  She walked over to the foot of the bed and stopped in front of the mirror. With her backside facing him, she bent to rub oil on her upper thighs. He hoped it was some Asian herb that would hypnotize him and keep his dick hard for four hours.

  Stepping out of his boxers, he slid underneath the thin sheet, never once taking his eyes off of her. She was rubbing the oil on her ass now. Her beautiful, tight, flawless ass.

  He lay back with his hands laced behind his head, enjoying the preview. Girlie had cantaloupe-shaped breasts that were disproportionately large for her small frame. She’d probably paid for them, but he didn’t give a shit. He most definitely preferred manufactured tits over those mushy-looking cow udders on the cougars he’d been dating lately.

  Girlie turned around to face him as she replaced the cap on the bottle. The perfectly shaved triangle at the gathering of her thighs looked like it had been sculpted by an artist. He couldn’t wait to brush his lips across that.

  “So, are you any closer to finding out who killed Judi Irving?” Girlie asked.

  Mankowski grimaced. This wasn’t a good sign. Girlie should have been concentrating on all of the nasty little things she had in store for him, rather than asking about his case. Phillip Peterman was still his number one person of interest, but Mankowski was beginning to seriously consider the possibility that Big Buy was also involved somehow. And if that was true, he was about to bed someone who could end up being a witness in the case, or even worse, a suspect. Unfortunately, things had gone way too far to put the brakes on now.

  “Why are we talking about Big Buy?”

  Girlie tilted her head, causing her hair to sweep across her right shoulder. “My mom taught me that men like to talk about their work. It makes them feel good.”

  “I can think of a few other things that might make me feel good.”

  Girlie grinned and perched herself at the edge of the bed facing him. She sat upright with her legs crossed like a model preschooler. He hated no longer having a clear view of her sweet spot. But at least he could still ogle her impressive rack.

  Mankowski took in a deep breath of anticipation.He was more than ready to get this show on the road.

  “Okay,” she said, her voice as soft as he imagined her skin to be. “Tell me what you like.”

  “Everything,” he said, grinning. “I like everything.”

  “C’mon,” she teased, sucking the tip of her baby finger, “there has to be something special that you like.”

  He smiled. “I like seeing you in the buff. Most women aren’t comfortable with their bodies.”

  Girlie shrugged. “Most women don’t have a body as fabulous as mine.”

  “True.”

  He wallowed in the pleasure of staring at her for a few more seconds.

  “Unfold your legs,” he ordered, in the same commanding voice he used with criminals. Put your hands up. Now!

  Girlie did as instructed, forming a long V with her legs.

  Wow! The view was fantastic. “Now touch yourself.”

  Without hesitation, Girlie followed orders. As Mankowski watched her masturbate, he had to struggle to refrain from grabbing himself and joining her. He was going to do everything in his power not to screw up this good thing for at least three months. Maybe five or six.

  Once Girlie had brought herself to climax, she recovered quickly and crawled toward him on all fours, like a sleek, bare-assed cat.

  She stopped when her head was hovering over his crotch. “We’re going to play a game.” She leaned down and took him deep into her warm, wet mouth.

  Mankowski palmed the back of her head. “Oh, mother of—”

  Girlie abruptly pulled away and winked at him.

  “That was just a preview. The game we’re going to play is called Hands Off. So if you touch me in any way, the game stops. I get to do all the work.”

  He grinned. God really, really loved him.

  Mankowski watched as Girlie maneuvered her body like a gymnast on top of a balance beam. In seconds, her legs were extended, parallel with his body, her feet inches above his head, balancing herself only with her hands. It took incredible strength and control for her to lift her own body weight. He was in pretty good shape, but there was no way he could do that.

  Mankowski wanted to grab her ass and plunge into her, but he had to play by the rules. He gripped the side of the headboard and bit his lip.

  Finally, Girlie pinned her knees at his sides, straddling him. As her body welcomed him inside, he reflexively reached out and clutched her right butt cheek.

  “You’re being a bad boy,” Girlie said, easing herself off of him. “Hands off, remember?”

  “Uh…oh, yeah. Sorry. I forgot.”

  Girlie waited almost a full minute, then eased back down onto him, slowly, way too slowly. He closed his eyes and reluctantly submitted. In seconds that seemed like minutes, he was finally inside her.

  “You like this?” She swayed from left to right like she was riding a slow-moving bucking bronco. At the same time, she was doing some reflexive move that tightened then loosened around him. Girlie was in full control and he didn’t mind being her humble subject.

  Mankowski wanted to moan or curse or something, but his voice failed him. He opened his eyes, salivated at her gorgeous body, and wished he could pinch one of her nipples.

  As he was seconds away from coming, he could hear his partner’s voice spewing disapproval. But right now, Mankowski felt too damn good to care about ethical considerations or departme
nt policies. He would enjoy the hell out of Girlie Cortez and deal with the consequences later.

  CHAPTER 51

  Olivia’s voice sounded so garbled that I could only make out every other word between her sobs.

  “Olivia, please,” I said into the phone, “I need you to calm down. I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

  “Big Buy just killed the lawsuit!”

  “Killed the lawsuit? What are you talking about?”

  “They gave all the female employees a letter.”

  “A letter? Olivia, you’re not making any sense. I need you to take a deep breath and speak slowly.”

  I couldn’t believe she was actually having a meltdown. Not Olivia, my Rock of Gibraltar. Her faith never faltered. It took a few more minutes, but when I finally understood what she was telling me, I was the one diving into panic mode.

  “I need to see a copy of that letter,” I said. “Did they give you one?”

  “No,” she sniffed. “Robyn either. I don’t know about Marcia because she works at the Torrance store. But every other female employee got one.”

  I instructed her to get a copy from a co-worker and go to Staples on her lunch break to fax it to me.

  It took another forty minutes before the fax arrived. Once I read the letter, I wanted to strangle Girlie Cortez.

  Dear Valued Big Buy Associate,

  I’d like to thank you for your contribution and dedication to our company. A recent lawsuit has alleged that Big Buy’s promotional practices have not been fairly applied to women. We believe these allegations have no merit and our own investigation has found no evidence supporting these claims.

  Nevertheless, we have decided to use this opportunity to demonstrate Big Buy’s commitment to ensuring a workplace that is free from all forms of discrimination. As a sign of our good faith, we are offering every female sales associate three-thousand dollars ($3,000.00) in exchange for signing the attached release agreement. Signing this agreement will mean that you waive your right to participate in the pending class action lawsuit.