Attorney-Client Privilege (13 page)

T
he doorbell rang just as Special gave her outfit one final, admiring look in the full-length mirror. There was no way Clayton could resist her tonight.

She headed for the living room in her braless, thigh-high sundress with spaghetti straps. She was busty enough to have cleavage without the need of a push-up bra. The faint indentation of her nipples was visible through the thin cotton fabric.

“Hey, sweetie,” she said, swinging the door open.

Clayton’s eyes went straight to her cleavage, then darted away. She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a hug, directing his nose between her neck and shoulder, where she’d dabbed a smidgen of Reb’l Fleur, one of Rihanna’s fragrances. Clayton kissed her lightly on the cheek and stepped inside.

“How was work?”

“Crazy as ever. They moved up the project date and now they’re expecting us to bust our behinds to get it done.”

“I want you to forget all about that tonight.” She took him by the hand and led him over to the table. “I made you a wonderful meal. Grilled red snapper, macaroni and cheese, collard greens, salad and homemade rolls from my grandmama’s recipe. And before you ask, I made the greens with smoked turkey, not pork.”

Clayton frowned. “I don’t eat collard greens anymore.”

“Since when? You love my greens.”

“Since I’ve been enlightened. Greens are slave food and the mac ‘n cheese is way too high in fat and cholesterol. And we should only be eating wheat bread.”

Special turned away and cussed under her breath. She’d spent two hours making those damn rolls.

“Fine. Don’t eat it then.”

“Wait, hold up.” He gave her shoulders a squeeze and kissed her on the forehead. “I’m sorry, babe. I had a bad day. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you. I appreciate you cooking for me. I love having a woman with domestic skills.”

Special wasn’t sure that statement was a positive one, but she decided not to seek clarification right now. There were more important tasks to contend with tonight.

Clayton sat down at the dining room table, where Special had lit candles and set the table with her good dishes and Kente cloth napkins.

“What’s the occasion?” Clayton asked, admiring the setup.

“No occasion.” She placed a piece of red snapper on his plate. “I just wanted to do something special for my man.”

Actually, she was hoping a good meal and a romantic setting might loosen him up.

“Well, thank you very much, my queen.” He threw an arm around her waist and pulled her close.

Clayton’s embrace made her woozy. It took every ounce of restraint she could muster not to jump into his lap. Once she had filled her own plate and joined him at the table, he took both of her hands in his and began to pray.

“O, Allah, I seek Thy refuge from lack of strength and laziness. I seek Thy refuge from cowardice and being overpowered by debt and the oppression of men…”

Special tried to concentrate on the prayer, but Clayton’s touch brought back memories of the last time they’d made love. She closed her eyes tighter and tried to block out her sinful thoughts.

“O, Allah, teach me what is lawful and keep me away from what is prohibited. Through Thy grace, make me free from the desires of the flesh.”

Damn.
The desires of the flesh were all she’d been thinking about. She was relieved when he finally let go of her hands.

“I have some good news,” Clayton said, taking a bite of red snapper.

“I could definitely use some good news.”
I could also use a romp in the hay.

“Minister Malik gave us the go-ahead for our naming ceremony.”

Special took a forkful of the mac ‘n cheese and allowed it to melt in her mouth. She’d used three different cheeses and it tasted fantastic. It was a shame that Clayton refused to even try it.

“Naming ceremony? What’s that?” Special knew exactly what he was talking about and she’d been dreading this day.

“The ceremony we have to go through to get our Muslim names. If you’d been studying like you’re supposed to, you’d know that.”

Special braced herself for Clayton’s reaction to what she was about to say. “I ain’t changing my name,” she said. “I love my name.”

Clayton set down his fork and laced his fingers. “If you love Allah and desire to follow his teachings, you’d no longer want to carry the slave name the white man saddled you with.”

“Maybe a white man gave me my last name, but my mama and daddy picked my first name. Regardless, I ain’t changing either one.”

A thick vein flexed in Clayton’s neck. “My queen,” he said, tone measured, “I’m trying to be patient with you. I know it’s going to take some time before your level of commitment to the Community equals mine. But I do expect you to get there. Eventually.”

“I will. But I ain’t—” Special caught herself.

She wasn’t changing her name. Not now, not ever. But she didn’t want to start an argument. Tonight all she wanted was to get laid. They could have it out over her slave name another day.

“I’m sorry. Maybe I’m overreacting. This is all pretty new to me so it’s going to take me a little time to get used to everything. I’ve had this name for more than three decades.”
And I plan to have it another three.

After their meal, Clayton remained at the table, reading the Community of Islamnewspaper while Special cleared the table and loaded the dishes into the dishwasher.

“Let’s watch TV,” she said, leading him into the living room. She left a suitable distance between them on the couch. Clayton picked up the remote and flipped from one channel to another.

“This is nothing but trash,” he complained. “All this reality TV junk is just a way to fill our minds with self-hatred.” He finally settled on
The Tavis Smiley Show
.

Special waited a few minutes, then closed the gap between them and rested her head on Clayton’s shoulder. She waited another five minutes, then reached up and pressed her lips to his. After all, kissing wasn’t fornication.

For the first time in a while, Clayton returned her kiss with the energy and passion of their pre-celibacy days.

Special pressed her hand flat against his chest and began massaging his nipples through his shirt. She lowered her other hand to his upper leg. At first she just rested it there, but as their kissing intensified, she began to caress his upper thigh.

When Special felt him grow hard, she took his physical response as a green light. She eased onto his lap, pinning her knees at his sides. She slid her hands underneath his shirt and massaged his chest. Their kisses made loud, slurping sounds as their heads twisted and turned and their tongues darted in and out of each other’s mouths.

Clayton was a fully active participant now, grinding up toward her as she pressed down to meet him. His hands roamed beneath her dress, gripped her narrow waist and grinded her body against his. He was breathing in heavy, intermittent gasps.

“Damn, I missed this so much,” Special moaned through the kisses.

Leaning forward, Clayton stood up, still holding Special in his lap. Her legs coiled easily around his waist as he walked toward the bedroom.

They stumbled down the hallway toward the bedroom. As they stepped inside, Clayton pressed Special’s back against the wall. He unbuckled his pants and let them fall to his ankles, then reached under her dress and pulled down her thong panties.

Special’s right breast popped out of her sundress and Clayton bent down to take it into his mouth. At that moment, Special’s left shoulder hit the light switch. A blast of light inundated the room.

Clayton froze.

Special reached a hand across her body and flicked off the light. Clayton still didn’t move.

“What’s the…what’s the matter?” She continued to pepper his face with kisses.

Clayton abruptly dropped her to the floor, stepped back and pulled up his pants.

“This is wrong,” he said. “The light coming on like that was a sign. A message from Allah. What happens in the dark will eventually come into the light.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Special grabbed his arm with both hands. “That wasn’t a sign. My shoulder just hit the light switch. C’mon, baby, I’m so horny I don’t know what to do.”

“I gotta go,” Clayton said. “Thanks for dinner.” His voice was formal and distant, and he refused to look at her.

“
You gotta go?
You have to be kidding!”

He zipped up his pants. “No, I’m not kidding. This is wrong.”

“Fine then! Go! I don’t care!”

When she heard the front door open and close, she fell onto the bed and started pounding the mattress with her fists. This was insane. She lay there hot, horny and frustrated.

In a matter of seconds, though, her mood shifted and she started to laugh. It was just her luck to end up with the one man in L.A. who
didn’t
wanna have sex. She rolled over on her side, clutching her stomach, overcome with laughter.

When her giggles had finally subsided, she walked barefoot into the kitchen and popped open a wine cooler. She’d hidden it in an empty milk carton at the back of the refrigerator in case of an emergency. This definitely fit the bill.

Special took an extra-long chug straight from the bottle. The evening hadn’t ended the way she had planned, but she
had
made progress. Getting Clayton this far showed that he wasn’t as committed to their celibacy as he professed. He was, after all, a man. And Special had never met a man she couldn’t entice.

Tonight they’d made it past first base. Next time she would lure him all the way in to home plate.

T
hen I saw Olivia’s cell phone light up my caller ID display, I had a bad feeling. It was after five. Her shift didn’t end until six.

“Hey, Olivia,” I said, bracing myself.

“I’d like to drop by to talk to you.” Her voice was low and controlled.

“That’s fine. When would you like to come in?”

“Right now. I’m downstairs in the lobby.”

It took ten anxiety-filled minutes before Olivia made it up to my office.

She was casually dressed in black slacks and a white blouse. Her smooth face appeared calm, but her body was erect and tight, as if she was trying to hold back an eruption.

“What’s going on, Olivia? Why aren’t you at work?”

“Those heathens need to be glad I’m a Christian.” She plunked down in a chair in front of my desk. “They had the nerve to suspend me this morning.”

“What happened?” I grabbed a legal pad from the corner of my desk. “Why didn’t you call me right away?”

“I went straight to Hope in Christ and got on my knees. And thank God I did, because I was seriously considering going back to that store and strangling that old she-devil. But I had a long talk with Reverend Robinson. Then I went over to the school and had lunch with my husband. I’m okay now.”

“Tell me what happened?”

Olivia recounted the confrontation she’d had with the store manager over her schedule. “We can’t let them get away with this,” she said. “This is retaliation.”

“I agree.”

I started peppering her with questions. Who witnessed the incident? How long did it last? Did Helen do anything she considered threatening?

 She could only remember the names of three employees in the area, though she was sure several others witnessed it.

“I promise you I’m going to take care of this.”

As soon as the words were out, I wished I could take them back. That was not a promise I should’ve made, but my own emotions were getting the best of me. The truth was, if Big Buy wanted to make an example out of Olivia, it could take months or years to avenge her rights via the legal system.

“Go home and relax,” I said. “I’m going to give Big Buy’s attorney a call. I’ll do everything I can to get you back to work as soon as possible.”

“I’m not worried about a thing,” Olivia said, getting up from her seat. “I’m a child of God.”

I walked her to the elevator and returned to my office just in time to grab the phone before it clicked over to voicemail.

The voice on the other end of the line took me totally by surprise. I hadn’t heard from Ida Lopez since she’d emailed me saying she wanted out of the lawsuit. A few days later, Olivia called to tell me about Ida’s promotion.”

“How are you doing?” I said.

“I’m fine.”

“Congratulations on your promotion.”

“Thank you.”

“So what can I do for you?”

“I uh…I wanted to talk to you about what happened to Olivia this morning. I saw everything.”

I propped my elbow on the desk and massaged my eyes. I wanted to know what Ida had to say, but ethically, I needed to cut the conversation short.

“Ida, now that you’re a member of management, I can’t talk to you.”

“But I’m not in the lawsuit anymore. I’m calling you on my own. I know Olivia hates me for dropping out of the lawsuit, but I want to help if I can.”

“It doesn’t work like that. Since you’re a member of management now, you represent the company. I can’t speak to you without the store’s permission. I could get in trouble with the state bar if I did.”

And Vernetta wouldn’t put it past Girlie Cortez to raise a stink about it if she found out.

“But—”

“I’m sorry. I’m assuming you’re calling me because you have some information helpful to Olivia. If you really want to help her, you should go to Human Resources and make sure your information gets to the company’s attorney.”

I didn’t need to see Ida’s face to know that my suggestion mortified her.

“I…I can’t do that. It’ll get me in trouble. Can’t we just talk confidentially? No one will know we ever had this conversation.”

“I can’t. Good-bye, Ida.”

I placed the phone back into the base. Sometimes my job really sucked. Girlie wouldn’t have done what I just did. She would’ve taken the information, then lied about doing so.

I took a few minutes to collect myself before dialing Girlie’s number. I was surprised that she actually picked up. I usually got her secretary or her voicemail.

“I have a problem,” I said, hoping to sound forceful rather than pissed. “And I need your help fixing it.”

“And good afternoon to you too, Ms. Henderson,” she said cheerily.

“Olivia Jackson just advised me that she was suspended based on a trumped-up charge of workplace violence. I have the names of three employees who witnessed the incident. After you have Human Resources interview them, I’d like you to instruct your client to return Olivia to work with full pay for today and no reference to this bogus incident in her personnel file.”

“I think your client and mine have differing views about what happened. As I understand it, your client physically threatened the new store manager.”

“That didn’t happen.”

“How do you know? You weren’t there.”

“I know my client. If she says it didn’t happen, then it didn’t happen. Just talk to Barbara Sykes, Linda Beed, and Robyn Gant. They saw the whole thing.”

“Your client called the store manager a heathen. I’m sure your witnesses will confirm that. Name-calling is also a violation of company policy.”

“Girlie,” I said, trying to keep my cool, “Ms. Sheridan made completely false allegations against my client, who was merely reciting a Bible verse. In light of that, I think it’s understandable why Olivia got a little upset.”

“So you’re admitting that your client called Ms. Sheridan a heathen?”

“I’m not admitting anything.”

“Well, I’ll look into this when I get some time. But I have a deposition that I need to prep for, so I won’t be able to get to it for a few days.”

“Is my client on a paid or unpaid suspension? No one made that clear to her when they ordered her out of the store.”

“We don’t pay people when we suspend them.”

“Olivia didn’t do anything wrong and she can’t afford to sit home without a paycheck, waiting for the company to finish a drawn-out investigation.”

“Well, that’s what she’s going to have to do.”

“Girlie, what happened to my client was nothing short of retaliation. You can fix this and that’s what I’m asking you to do. You don’t want to go to war with me on this one. Trust me.”

“Wow,” Girlie said laughing. “Sounds like you’re threatening me just like your client threatened Big Buy’s store manager.”

I closed my eyes and sucked in a breath. It wouldn’t do Olivia any good for me to go off on Girlie. I needed to do whatever it took to get my client back to work.

“That wasn’t my intent,” I said, trying my best to sound pleasant. “I’m just a little concerned about my client.”

“If Ms. Jackson had taken my settlement offer, we wouldn’t have this problem.”

“That settlement offer wasn’t worthy of acceptance.” I suddenly realized that my hand was throbbing. I’d been clutching the phone so tight, I’d cut off my circulation. “So can I count on you to look into this?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

I slammed down the phone, feeling outraged and powerless because I knew Girlie Cortez wasn’t going to do jack.