Chapter 22
Liza shook her head as Chante finished one brownie and started another. “Do you know how good it feels not to have to starve myself to fit in a wedding dress?” she asked between bites.
“I don't know why you were doing that anyway. You were going to be such a beautiful bride.”
“Whatever. I wonder if I can get my deposit back from the designer. What the hell was I thinking? There were signs.”
“What do you mean?”
Chante pushed her half-eaten brownie aside. “He'd come home smelling like perfume, and every time I said something it was always âI was at a campaign stop.' Or some old lady had hugged him. Then he'd finish with a flourish. I didn't believe in him and was allowing others to fill my head with lies. He was the liar. I'm beginning to see why he won so many cases. Robert outlawyered me most of the time. I believed him for a while.”
“And when did you start questioning him? Because it sure did feel like you believed him for a long time.”
Chante sighed. “At first, I did think you were stirring up trouble. I mean, after Robert proposed, it seemed as if you just disappeared and I needed you. The little nuggets that he dropped in my ear made sense, and every time I called you and got your voicemail, what he was saying became easier to believe.”
“You do realize that I was working on his campaign and I run my own business. But wait, little nuggets? Before I caught him with that girl?”
She shrugged. “Maybe he knew that you'd be the one to catch him and he was going for the pre-emptive strike. And you'd never been that busy before. I guess he knew the right buttons to push.”
Liza nodded. “Still, was Robert saying all of this from the beginning or after the photos?”
Chante toyed with her brownie. “I might have mentioned to him that I thought things had gotten weird between us. And . . .”
“You asked him again if there had been anything between us?”
She nodded and popped a piece of brownie in her mouth. “Robert told me more than you've ever told me about you two. And at the time, I thought he was telling the truth.”
“What did that son of a bitch say?”
“It doesn't matter. I know he was lying.”
Liza shook her head. “No, I want to know.”
“Well, you know I've never kept it a secret that I thought you and Robert were more than friends. He told me that a long time ago you came on to him.”
“That lying dog!”
“Keep your voice down.”
“I've never come on to Robert, not even after getting plastered at the East End Martini Bar.”
“He's a very convincing man,” she said. “And that's what scares me about him winning this senate seat.”
“Just think, I thought his charm and persuasiveness would be the best thing about him. Who knew that he was going to use that against me?” Liza rose to her feet and paced back and forth. Then she stopped and faced Chante. “You know why Robert and I were so close?”
Chante shook her head. Liza sighed. “I thought that my dad was probably a lot like him when he was younger. I never got a chance to know my dad because when my mother couldn't have more kids, he left us for another family. I stayed with my aunt until I went off to college. Dad sent money but I haven't seen him since I was eight years old.”
“How did Robert remind you of your dad? That's been one thing we've never talked a lot about.”
“I always thought they had the same smile. I even thought he was my brother for a little while. Then I met his family. Once upon a time, I hoped he'd lead me to my dad. Then I realized it wasn't going to happen and I thought Robert was my best friend.”
“Some friend,” Chante said. “I just can't get over the fact that he spread that call girl rumor about you. Who does that?”
“Had I known he was such a jackass, I never would've introduced you two. I just thought it would've been great to bring all of my favorite people together and create our own little family unit.”
“Aww, Liza,” Chante said, then offered her friend a sad smile. “Too bad it didn't work out.”
She waved her hand. “I know it sounds corny. I'm an adult, I should be over my daddy issues, but I'm just a big sack of . . .”
“You're fine, Liza. And I'm sorry I allowed Robert to get in my head when you've always been one of the most honest and trustworthy people I've ever known. You're my sister and I love you.”
“So, are you going to help me bring the bastard down?”
Chante held out her fist to Liza. “With pleasure!” The ladies bumped fists and giggled, sounding as if they had been transported back to college. But this was a serious matter. Something that they had to handle swiftly and discreetly.
“How are we going to find this
woman?”
Chante asked. “I'm sure she didn't tell you her name or give you her phone number.”
Liza pulled up a picture of Robert and the woman on her iPad. Chante rolled her eyes at the image. “Have you ever watched that show
Catfish
on MTV?” Liza asked.
“Nope. Why?”
“The guys who host that show use Google to search faces. And I've used it a couple of times when I've gotten clients out of some sticky situations. I'm willing to bet that this girl has a Facebook or Instagram account. It's hard to stay hidden these days. And Robert should've remembered that when I told him I had pictures.” Shaking her head, Liza began doing the search.
Chante was about to respond when the door to her office swung open and Taiwon stalked in. “Are we working or having girl talk?” he asked smugly.
Chante leapt to her feet. “I'm actually meeting with a client, Mr. Myrick. Is there something you need that is super urgent and you couldn't be bothered to knock on the door?”
Liza wanted to give her friend a high five because this Myrick man was rude and needed to be slapped.
“I didn't realize you were actually working,” he said, then headed out the door.
Chante closed her eyes and counted to ten. “I want to be a partner, I want to be a partner,” she chanted.
“Is it worth it?” Liza asked. “I mean, you could always open your own firm. Because if that's something you deal with every day, I don't know how you do it. I'm guessing he's one of the partners.”
“That's one thing I've always admired about you. One day you decided that you didn't want to work for someone else and you opened your firm. I need security. I need a little safety and making partner here is going to give me that. Taiwon is one of the managing partners and I need his vote. But I can do without his attitude. Such a diva.”
“Why don't you start living? You're too good to be working here with jackasses like tall, dumb, and jerk face.”
“All of the partners aren't like Taiwon. If they were, I would've left a long time ago.”
Liza crossed her legs as she watched the software do its thing. “They don't deserve . . . Hot damn! Here she is.” She turned her iPad around to show Chante the Spokeo page that showed the woman from the picture. Dayshea Brown, who lived on Parkwood Avenue. “Now that we have a name, all we need to do is find her Facebook page.”
“What if she doesn't have a Facebook page?”
Liza shot up her eyebrow in disbelief. “Who doesn't have a Facebook page these days? Other than you?”
“Point taken,” Chante said as she crossed over to Liza and looked over her shoulder as she searched. Seconds later, the image of Dayshea Brown filled the iPad screen. She was doing the infamous duck lip kiss face, dressed in a too tight T-shirt showing off her ample breasts.
“And that is what he wanted to have sex with while I was at home waiting for him,” Chante hissed. “I feel like I need to be dipped in Clorox.”
“I told you he's attracted to hood rats. Sort of like that Kanye West song.”
“Eww, you know I don't listen to that crap. What's the name of the song?”
Liza shrugged. “I don't remember, but that's beside the point. Let's focus on finding this girl and getting her to tell her story.”
“Maybe we should wait until after the debate,” she said.
Liza nodded. “Knowing him and Nic, they are going to try to have Robert look like some saint. We know that isn't true and the voters should know that as well.”
“And then this girl will come out and tell everyone about her romp with Robert. How are we going to deflect attention from me, who people think he's still going to marry?”
Liza chewed her bottom lip. “Well, you can tell everyone that the engagement is off because he's a dishonest and dishonorable man. One statement.”
Chante pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. “You and I both know that won't be enough.”
“I can make it enough,” Liza said.
“You're good, but you are no Judy Smith.”
“Whatever! Remember the NBA player who's wife was arrested for fighting at the NC Music Factory? Why do you think that story disappeared?”
“Because no one really gives a shit about the NBA in this city? I'm not saying that you aren't good at your job, but this is sex and politics. These stories don't just disappear,” Chante said. “Still, I trust that you will keep the media off my back.” She looked down at her left hand and stroked her empty ring finger. Chante closed her eyes and thought about the ring that Robert had given her. “That bastard.”
“You should've kept the ring, we could have pawned it,” Liza said. “It had great clarity.”
“Shut up. How much do you think I would've gotten for it?”
Liza shook her head. “Too late now. So, are we going to go to her place or not?”
“Why not? Leaving this office means that I can avoid whatever Taiwon wanted.” Liza and Chante headed to the parking deck and drove to the north Charlotte neighborhood.
“What if she's at work?” Chante asked as she navigated down the street.
“Five dollars says that she isn't.” Liza held her hand out to her friend. “Make sure I get my money.”
Chante pulled into the driveway of the house that the GPS had led them to. The front door was open and the volume of the TV could be heard from the yard.
“I want my money,” Liza said as she and Chante headed up the steps. “Hello?” She tapped on the torn screen door. Dayshea walked to the door, her head covered by a greasy satin cap and holding a cigarette in her left hand.
“Who the hell are you bitches?” she asked as she tightened the belt around her robe.
“Dayshea Brown, I'm Liza Palmer.”
She gave Liza a long, hard once-over. “Oh, yeah, I know who you are. You walked in on me screwing your old man. I know you didn't come here looking for trouble.” She squared up behind the door and Liza grinned.
“Honey, he was not my man and I'm here because I have questions.”
“I don't have time for this! It's almost time for
The Young and The Restless
and I'm not missing my stories because you have questions.” She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. “Anyway, you need to be asking him questions because I . . .”
Chante pushed Liza aside. “Is Victor Newman still raising hell?”
Dayshea laughed. “Don't tell me you watch my show. What do you want?”
“The truth about you and Robert,” Chante said. “How did y'all meet? What did he tell you about himself?”
Dayshea glanced at the thin gold-plated watch on her wrist. “Look, honey, I don't have a whole lot and sometimes money is tight. So, I do things I'm not always proud of. But I don't fuck married men. That's just wrong.” She turned to Liza. “It's not my fault your husband lied.”
“Damn it, for the last time he is not my husband. He wasn't even my boyfriend.”
Dayshea rolled her eyes. “I couldn't tell. You went off like he was your man and that's the kind of drama I don't need in my life.”
“Actually,” Chante said once Dayshea allowed them to walk inside, “he was supposed to be my husband.”
“Damn!” Dayshea exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “I can't fight both of y'all. Was paid toâ”
“You're misunderstanding us,” Liza said, throwing her hands up. “We're not here to fight you. We're here to help you.”
“You got money?” Dayshea asked.
Liza and Chante looked at each other and smiled. “We have an opportunity for you to make way more money than you were given to let Robert . . . well, you know,” Liza said.
“What do y'all bougie gangsters want from me?” Dayshea asked as she folded her arms across her chest.
“Your side of the story. Your truth. Robert used you and lied about who he is,” Chante said. “And let's not forget that he lied to me and I was sitting at home planning a wedding. And eating celery when I wanted chicken and waffles.”
“Wait,” Dayshea said. “You left him?”
Chante nodded. “But I don't blame you. He was the one who promised me that he loved me and would be faithful.”
“And if a man lies to the woman he loves, he can't be trusted,” Liza interjected.
“Is he important or something?”
“He wants to be. But we can't let that happen,” Liza said.
Dayshea dropped her arms and shrugged. “And I'm supposed to stop this somehow? By telling people that we had sex?”
“That he paid you for sex,” Chante replied.
“As a matter of fact,” Liza asked, “who paid you?”
“Why don't y'all sit down?” Dayshea pointed to a ratty sofa near the TV. “We can talk after my show goes off.”