T
he moment the phone rings in my office, I snatch it up. “Lishelle Jennings.”
“Lishelle, it’s Harlan Fisher. Claudia’s uncle from Bank of Atlanta.”
“Yes, hello.” I’ve been waiting for this call.
“I’m afraid I have bad news.”
Oh, God.
“Four checks were written from the line-of-credit account, each in the amount of two hundred thousand. Unfortunately, the checks have cleared. There’s no way to put a stop payment on them.”
“God have mercy.”
“At this point, I’m afraid, the only recourse to get your money back is civilly. Because you had his name on the account, you can’t make the claim for fraud.”
And the courts will think I’m a scorned lover out for revenge.
I sigh wearily. “Thank you, Harlan. I’ll take it from here.”
The moment I hang up from him, I call Claudia’s number. She doesn’t pick up so I leave a message.
“Claudia, I’m coming over after work. Probably around eight. Since Annelise is staying with you, that’s the best place to meet. If you guys have plans, cancel them. I need you both to be there. Something really awful has happened, I’m talking really serious here, and I need you two like I’ve never needed you before.”
I replace the receiver and reach for my bottle of Motrin. I can’t lose it. Not yet. I still have the six o’clock news to do.
At eight-ten, I pull into Claudia’s driveway beside Annelise’s car. Seconds later, I’m knocking on Claudia’s side door. Just seeing the look of concern on her face as she opens it is my undoing. Emotion overwhelms me, and I’m normally so good at keeping my feelings in check.
“Oh, God.” The tears fall freely as I walk right into Claudia’s open arms. “I trusted him. I loved him. And he screwed me over. In the worst possible way.”
“Shh,” she coos softly. “It’s okay.”
“No,” I tell her. “It’s not okay. This is so not okay.”
Annelise is suddenly there, reaching for my hand and giving it a supportive squeeze. “I’m so sorry. I hate seeing you like this.”
“I hate seeing any of us like this,” Claudia says. “And all because of the men in our lives. This is what we get for loving them.” She pats my back, then pulls away from me. “Come in. Let’s have a talk.”
“Yes, let’s,” Annelise echoes. “But first, what would you like to drink? Claudia made some great margaritas.”
“If it’s got alcohol, I’ll drink it.”
I follow them into the house. Annelise heads to the kitchen, while Claudia walks into the living room. She drops onto the leather sofa, and I plop down beside her. I bury my face in my hands, thinking of the awful truth I must face.
Eight hundred thousand dollars.
Lord help me, I’m screwed.
“Here you go, sweetie.” I look up at the sound of Annelise’s voice. She’s holding an extra-large tumbler filled with green-colored margarita.
“Thank you.” I guzzle the drink, finishing off half of it.
“Tell us what’s going on,” Claudia says.
“You were right, Claudia,” I admit sadly. “I should have been wary of Glenn coming back into my life. But I thought…he was older, more mature. Not out to play games.”
“You still haven’t heard from him?” Annelise asks.
I shake my head. I’m here because I need my two best friends, but I can’t look either of them in the eye right now. I didn’t want to tell them about my suspicions when I discovered the line-of-credit checks missing because I couldn’t admit to myself that Glenn was only using me. But now…
“I haven’t heard from him. And this is the worst, worst part of all. Remember I told you that I opened a line of credit to get money to invest in his business? You advised me against that, Claudia, and you were so right. Glenn wrote himself some checks. Eight hundred thousand dollars.”
“Holy Jesus!” Claudia exclaims.
“I know. I didn’t even know he’d taken the checks. I had no reason to suspect he had. But when he wasn’t getting back to me, I just had this feeling. I looked in my desk, and the checks were gone.”
Claudia shakes her head. “The pig.”
“On the way here, I racked my brain trying to figure out how he got a hold of them. I haven’t seen him since I went to the bank. And then it hit me. The weekend we went to Alabama.”
I fill them in on the absolute worst part of my news—that I’ll have to sue Glenn civilly because I had his name put on the account. And it’s too late to put a stop payment on the checks.
“I can’t believe he’d do that to you.” Annelise’s lips twist in distaste. “Then again, I can’t believe Charles would lie to me the way he did. Or that Adam would fuck Claudia over in such an embarrassingly public way.”
Last night, Claudia and Annelise filled me in on the latest. That Charles has most likely been embezzling money from the Wishes Come True charity along with his law partner, Marsha. And Adam…What a scum-sucking bastard he turned out to be.
“Honestly,” I begin. “I think Adam proposed to Arlene to save his ass. You said Arlene has always been after him. Saving his image in the media with that huge donation to his charity—wouldn’t you propose to her?”
“That’s what I said to Annelise. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“
Not
that you should take him back,” I stress. “Hurting you the way he did, even if it was to save face, is the lowest thing he could have done.”
“Believe me, I wouldn’t take Adam back now if you paid me. What I want, though, is for him to realize that I was the best thing that ever happened to him and come crying back to me. That would make me feel…a helluva lot better.”
“Like that’s gonna happen,” Annelise comments sourly. “Do you think Charles gives a shit about what he did to me, how he destroyed my life? And who knows—maybe before he’ll even see justice, he’ll be off somewhere in the sunny Caribbean, sipping margaritas with his whore and living off stolen money.” She looks at her own drink and frowns, then places it on the coffee table in front of her.
“I, for one, want my money back. I don’t want it—I need it. I put my house up as collateral for that line of credit, and I’ll probably lose it.”
We sit in silence for a while, each of us ruminating over our dismal situations.
“That auditor—he’s convinced that Charles has the real books for the charity hidden somewhere. Maybe even in the house.” Annelise snatches up her drink again and downs the last of it. “I can just imagine the look on Charles’s face if I were to announce to him that
I
found them. The asshole probably thinks I’m too stupid, but boy, it’d be amazing to show him exactly who the stupid one is.”
“You think the books are there?” Claudia asks.
“Who knows? But I can have a look.”
“And give Charles his rot-in-jail card.” My lips curl as my mind churns. “You know, that’s not a bad idea. Heck, I work at a news station. It’s not like I can’t blow this story wide open if you find some evidence.”
“And let Adam try and play innocent,” Claudia adds. “Who cares if he knew nothing about the embezzlement. The motherfucker should have. He runs the damn charity.” Claudia’s eyes widen with delight. “Oh my God. Annelise—I think you’re onto something here.”
“You mean I should look for the evidence and throw Charles to the wolves?”
“No.” Claudia shakes her head slowly. “Not just Charles. Charles and Adam.”
Annelise bites down on her bottom lip, but it’s not enough to hide her excited gasp. “You’re really serious, aren’t you?”
“You’re damn right I am. Why should we be sitting here, drowning our sorrows in alcohol while Charles plans some exotic new life, and Adam smoothes over his image so he looks like he’s nothing but upstanding? I could share a few shocking stories, let me tell you. From his interest in swingers’ clubs to his dabbling in drugs, if people were to find out about the real Adam, there’s no way he’d win a mayoral campaign. Hell, he’d probably have to hightail it out of Atlanta.” Claudia claps her hands together and laughs. “Oh my God. It’d be perfect, Annie. We
have
to do this. And when the shit hits the fan, Charles and Adam will know that payback is a bitch.”
Claudia high-fives Annelise.
“I think it’s doable.” I can see Annelise’s brain churning. “And we’ll be doing the people of Atlanta—
and
the children—a service. Outing two slimeballs.”
I watch Claudia and Annelise, all animated as they discuss this plan to get even. I feel their excitement. How nice it must be to have an avenue to get vengeance. I have no clue where Glenn is, and I can just imagine the long, ugly legal battle once I find him.
“What if people don’t believe the stories about Adam?” Claudia suddenly asks. “What if they dismiss them as conjecture?”
“Hmm.” Annelise looks pensive. “I hear you. Let me think.” After a moment, she says, “Then we catch him in the act. Get him on film.”
“How?”
“Uh uh uh.” Annelise wags a finger. “Let me finish.” She really is adorable when she’s drunk. “My sister’s a stripper, remember. And if Adam’s as sexually motivated as you say, he probably won’t be able to resist her. You find out where he’ll be, we’ll send her over there dressed like a slut…”
“Bingo, baby!” A burst of laughter escapes Claudia. “Oh, yeah. That’ll work. If Adam paints himself out as Mr. Innocent, then the media—” Claudia looks to me “—can expose the pictures…Lishelle, what is it? You don’t think we should do this?”
“No.” I exhale harshly. “I’m just thinking about Glenn. Wondering if I’ll ever track him down.”
“You will,” Claudia stresses. “We will. Whatever it takes, we’ll find that asshole, and he
will
pay you back. If we have to beat his ass to make him do it, then that’s what we’ll do. Right, Annelise?”
“Absolutely,” she agrees.
And I know they’d do it. There’s no doubt my friends would do anything for me.
But I’m wondering now if there’s hope of me ever finding Glenn. Or if he, like Charles, is planning an exotic new life far, far from Atlanta.
With my fucking money.
A
ll night, I can hardly sleep for how excited I am.
I am going to do this.
Really do this.
A smile spreads on my face and I stretch my body, luxuriating in the eight-hundred thread count of the Egyptian-cotton sheets. Yeah, I’m going to do what Adam asked me to—put on a strap-on and fuck the shit out of him.
I’m so high, I practically float out of bed. In my en suite bathroom, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Thank God, the bags under my eyes are fading because I finally got a decent night’s sleep. And the dull ache in my head that’s been there for days is gone.
I have a purpose. A positive way to expend my energy so that I don’t go slowly mad.
There’s no time like the present to put my plan into action.
A short while later, I’m showered and dressed in an outfit deliberately chosen to reflect an upbeat mood. I’m wearing a cute white leather skirt I picked up at Fendi, a silky black top and flip-flops adorned with a crystal-studded flower. I look good, and I look happy. And I am happy. So happy that I’m humming (yes, humming!) as I exit my bedroom.
“Annelise?” I glance around, but I don’t see her. I hope she hasn’t left already. I want to talk her. Maybe even get some breakfast before we head off on our respective quests.
“Annelise?”
I walk across the living room and knock on her bedroom door. “Annelise?”
“Come in,” she calls out.
“You haven’t changed your mind, have you?” I ask as I open the door.
She’s brushing her long mane of blond hair. “Are you kidding? I haven’t slept this well since all this crap happened with Charles. I
have
to find those documents. And it’s not just about getting even—it’s about doing the right thing for the charity.”
“Well, for me, it’s all about getting even!” I exclaim, laughing.
Annelise laughs, too. “Trust me, revenge will definitely be sweet.”
“You want to get some breakfast? We could go to Liaisons. Or somewhere else. I don’t have to be at the spa until—”
“Actually, I’m not sure I can eat anything. I’m excited and nervous and I don’t think I can put anything in my stomach until after I go to the house.”
“I got you.” I pause. “You want to come to the spa with me? For some moral support while I spill the beans to Risha and Chantelle?”
Annelise strolls toward me. “I was kinda thinking I’d head to the house now. Get it over with. But if you want me to go with you—”
“Naw.” I wave off the suggestion. “I’m just—”
“Having second thoughts?”
“God, no.” I take a deep breath. “I’m nervous, I guess. Like Risha and Chantelle will figure out that I
want
them to spread the word about Adam. But I don’t think I have to worry about that. They love gossip. And, sad to say, but you’ve got to have that catty edge when you’re gonna spread gossip, and Risha and Chantelle fit the bill.”
“Things will be fine,” Annelise assures me. “Plant the seed, and watch the flower grow. If you can call what’s gonna grow from this a flower.”
“All right.” I hug her. “Before I meet Chantelle and Risha, I’m heading to the bank to talk to my uncle. See if there’s not something he can do for Lishelle. Wish me luck—with everything on my plate.”
Annelise hugs me. “Good luck.”
“And good luck finding the charity’s books,” I tell her. “Hopefully by the end of the day, we’ll both have good news to share.”
When I meet Risha and Chantelle in the lobby of the spa, they’re also decked out in hip designer fashions and look as cute as I do. Three Black-American Princesses dressed for the spa.
“Oh, Risha. Love the shoes,” I say of her gold-colored strappy sandals. “Jimmy Choo, right? Their new summer collection is to die for.”
“Yes, darling. And look at you. All cute and perky.”
“Thanks.” I do a quick twirl, taking a little pleasure in the fact that I look the coolest today. “Shall we head in, ladies?”
I lead the way to the receptionist and tell her that we have an appointment for three for pedicures and manicures.
“And it’s my treat today,” Chantelle tells me as we take a seat in the waiting area. “After all, tomorrow’s your birthday.”
My birthday. I’d almost forgotten all about it, with everything that’s going on in my life.
“The big three-oh,” Risha chimes. “It’s all downhill from here, baby.” She laughs.
“No, don’t say that. I’m actually looking forward to being thirty. I’m healthy, happy and have a lot to be grateful for.”
“Amazing,” Risha comments.
“What—that I’m still counting my blessings after all I’ve been through?”
Risha nods. “Yeah, I guess.” She looks around, then adds in a hushed tone, “I hear Arlene’s planning a wedding for the fall.”
I shrug nonchalantly as a hostess comes to take us into the spa. We get to our feet and follow her.
“Sometimes, things happen so you can be free,” I say as we walk. “You don’t know it at the time, but you can look back and see where you’re much better off than you were before.”
“I know you’re trying to be strong,” Chantelle says, “but you don’t have to be. We’re your friends. You can tell us how you really feel.” Her voice, I think, rises on a hopeful note.
“How I really feel?” I repeat.
Risha nods. “Mmm-hmm.”
Before I can answer, we are each ushered into our seats at tables side by side, and introduced to our manicurists. But the moment the women start to work on us, I feel Risha’s and Chantelle’s eyes from both sides of me.
“If you want the truth,” I begin, “I’m kinda relieved.”
“How can you say you’re relieved?” Risha asks. “You were supposed to be getting married this Saturday!”
“I know that. But…”
“But what?” they both ask in unison.
How easily they take the bait.
“If I tell you something, do you promise not to repeat this to anyone? Not one soul?”
“Of course,” they assure me.
“Adam…as much as I loved him, there were some things I found out about him that I knew I’d never be able to deal with.”
“Like?” Chantelle asks.
“Like…he was into some freaky stuff.”
“What kind of freaky stuff?”
I turn to Risha. “Freaky sex stuff.”
Her eyes widen. I nod.
“How freaky?”
“Like sex-club freaky,” I answer in a hushed voice. “Not that I ever went with him to one of those places, of course, but he asked me to. About a month or so before our wedding date. He asked me if I’d go there and have sex with another couple with him!”
“No!” Both my friends gasp. I notice that Jolly, my manicurist, eyes me curiously.
“I told him no, absolutely not. I’m not into that! Then, one night when I was waiting up for him, he came home smelling like he’d just come from a club. He was high—something else he’s been doing a lot lately—and I got pissed. I asked him where he was. He’d missed a meeting with our wedding planner. You won’t believe what he told me.”
“What?”
“He told me that he went to a swingers’ club. You know, the kind of place where people have group sex.” Again, I lower my voice, but not low enough that nosy ears can’t hear. “That that’s where he’d spent the evening. I got angry, threatened to call off the wedding right then and there. But he swore to me a friend brought him there as a surprise, as a sort of pre-bachelor party stunt, and that he just watched. He told me all kinds of freaky stuff he saw. Like guys kissing other guys. Group sex. Women giving guys blow jobs in plain view of everyone.” I shudder. “I was disgusted—and even more disgusted when he told me that it turned him on! That he wished I was there so we could have had sex in front of all those people!”
Risha snorts, then rolls her eyes. “That’s so gross.”
“I know. And I told him that. But he said he thought it could be…exciting. Liberating.”
“And what did you say?” Chantelle asks.
“That I never wanted to hear him suggest anything so vile ever again. He apologized and swore he wouldn’t give it another thought. But…”
“But what?” both my friends demand at the same time.
I sigh, as though it’s really hurting me to tell this part. “I’ve already heard from someone close to me that Adam was spotted at this seedy strip club where the dancers are known for having sex with the patrons. This was just a few days ago! When I heard that, I thought ‘Good riddance. Arlene can have him!’”
“Wow.” Chantelle shakes her head. “I had no clue he was like that.”
“Neither did I,” I say sadly. “Just goes to show, you can be with someone for years and not really know them. I’m so glad I found out about him
before
the wedding.”
“I think you’re right to write him off,” Risha tells me.
Chantelle says, “And quite frankly, I’ve never liked Arlene. If she suffers through a few years of hell with him, it will serve her right for all the stuff she’s done to hurt people over the years.”
I chuckle at that. I can’t say I disagree. “After everything that’s happened with Adam, I can’t believe I was ever going to marry him! What kind of man proposes to another woman after barely ending one engagement?”
“That speaks to his character, that’s for sure,” Risha comments.
“Exactly,” I respond. “I mean, don’t you wonder now what’s really happening with the charity? If there’s not something fishy going on? With everything I’ve learned about Adam’s character…”
I know that the manicurists and the other patrons in the salon are getting an earful today—just as I’d hoped. In fact, things are going according to plan so well, I have to try not to smile.
There’s no doubt that the moment Risha and Chantelle get into their cars, they’ll be calling friends, who will then call more friends, and so on.
But my work isn’t done yet. I’m meeting two other friends who were bridesmaids for lunch, and after that, I’m off to the gym.
I give it until eight o’clock tonight before the word about Adam’s dirty secrets spreads through our community of friends.