A Love of My Own (32 page)

10
__________________

“Yo, Norman McClinton is the real brotha from another planet if he thinks he can just toss me a few coins and get rid of me,” Sebastian said.

I had called Sebastian to tell him about my conversation with Davis. Sebastian laughed when I told him Davis had even mentioned buying a professional football team just to get Sebastian out of New York City.

“Tell him my skills got me in the league and that's the only way I'll go back,” Sebastian said.

“So what are you going to do about money?” I asked.

“Do what every self-respecting brotha would. I'm gonna make a dollar any way I can. The personal training is picking up. Seems like people aren't going to sit around on their asses all winter. I guess the fact that it hasn't been that cold helps,” Sebastian said.

“So what are you going to do about Davis?”

“You mean Norman?”

“Yeah.”

“Just let him sit up in his big ivory tower and worry about what I'm gonna do,” Sebastian said with a sinister laugh.

“Mind sharing your plans with me?”

“I trust you, Ray. I know you and Kirby come from good peoples. To be honest, I doubt I'll do jack. Just letting Norman know he can run but he can't hide, despite all his benjamins, was cool enough.”

“So you're just going to let him slide?”

“That's the way I feel today. To be honest, he wouldn't fit in our family. We're too good for him.”

“I hear you. Look, I think it's best we keep our workouts at the gym. I know Davis doesn't want to see you around the office.”

“No doubt. You got time to work out today?”

“I'll make time.”

“Cool. Hit me on the celly and let me know what time,” Sebastian said.

“I will.”

“Holla,” Sebastian said.

I knew he was getting ready to hang up, but I felt I needed to say something else.

“Sebastian.”

“Yo?”

“I think you're doing the right thing. I know your family must be very proud of you.”

“Yo, that's what's up.”

The next morning I arrived at my office determined not to let Davis's behavior make me leave a high-paying job. I figured I needed to stay on for at least a year before exploring other opportunities, maybe even in Atlanta, since it looked like Basil would be there for a while.

Those feelings were tested very early in the day when Jolie walked into my office. She laid a folder on my desk and said, “I think these checks are for you. Sign them and I'll take them back to accounts payable.”

I wasn't expecting any checks, but I opened up the folder and my eyes doubled in size. There were two checks, one made payable to Yancey H. Braxton for five million dollars and one payable to Kirsten Dawson for two million. No one but Davis could have approved these checks. I made two quick copies on my personal copier and stuffed the copies in my briefcase.

“Did you sign the checks?” Jolie asked as I sped by her desk. I didn't answer as I caught the elevator. When I reached the top floor, I didn't even make eye contact with Davis's assistant, who started shouting, “Where are you going? You can't go in there.”

I opened the door and walked in on Davis and a woman sitting in the chair in front of his desk. Davis was caught off guard. When he called my name, the woman turned around and I recognized it was Kirsten from a photo I'd seen of her in the magazine.

“What are you doing, bursting into my office unannounced?” Davis asked in a condescending manner.

“I wanted to ask you what these checks were for, but I think I have my answer,” I said as I looked at Kirsten.

“What checks?” Davis asked.

“Look in the folder. They were delivered to me by mistake,” I said.

Davis looked at Kirsten with a knowing gaze and then asked her to excuse him for a few minutes. She picked up her briefcase and quickly left the office.

“Don't you ever embarrass me like that again. How did you get these checks?”

“I told you, by mistake. What's going on, Davis? Why are you paying Kirsten two million dollars? If you're paying Yancey B. a settlement, why is she still suing Zola?”

“None of your damn business,” Davis said.

“Then I think I'm done. You'll have my resignation before the end of the day,” I said as I walked out of the door.

“You're fired. Nobody resigns from this company. Hiring you has brought me nothing but trouble. Don't forget about your confidentiality agreement. You breathe a word of any of this and I will sue you for everything you've got!”

I stopped before I reached the door and turned back toward Davis and said, “You do what you have to do but expect the same from me.”

I left the office and stopped at the Hudson Hotel on Fifty-eighth between Eighth and Ninth avenues and had a couple of glasses of wine and tried to come up with a plan. I thought about moving to Atlanta. I wondered what Gilliam Battle, one of my former superiors, was doing and if she had any job leads. I didn't want to go back to practicing law full-time even though I was still a member of the bar in Georgia, Washington and New York.

I liked teaching and working in the business world. I didn't want to go back to a law firm and the politics of being a partner or having to start all over as an associate. Atlanta was still the black Mecca of the South, and there were several record companies and minority businesses that might be able to use my expertise.

When I walked into my apartment, I realized I had another major problem. I was staying in an apartment that belonged to McClinton Enterprises. Not only did I not have a job, I didn't have a place to stay. I could get a hotel room right next door, but I couldn't do that long-term.

I was thinking I should just buy a car, pack up my few personal items, and drive to Atlanta. I knew I could stay with Jared and Nicole, but I still had some loose ends in New York.

I wanted to find out why Davis was giving Yancey B. and Kirsten money, and help Zola any way I could. I also found myself thinking about Basil. It might be a good thing that he was in Atlanta. I remembered he had an apartment in New York City. Maybe I could crash there for a minute. If nothing else, it gave me a reason to call him.

I was walking toward the phone when it started to ring.

“Hello.”

“Raymond. This is Chris Thomas. How are you doing?”

“I've done better. Good hearing from you.”

Chris called to tell me that he'd met Zola and thought he could help her out if she got the information he needed. Chris also asked what I was doing for Christmas, and when I told him my plans were up in the air, he invited me back to the youth center and then to his home for a little holiday celebration.

I told him I would think about it. Chris also told me that Dru had been asking about me and Chris hoped next year I could spend more time at the center. He told me that since the majority of their clients were youth of color, he and Debi wanted a more diverse volunteer staff.

“I don't know if I'm going to be here next year,” I said.

“What? Is Davis transferring you to another one of his companies?”

“I quit,” I said calmly.

“Are you looking for a job?” Chris asked.

“I don't know what I'm going to do,” I said.

“Then why don't you come by my office tomorrow? Let's kick around some ideas on how I can help out,” Chris said.

“Thank you, Chris. I'll do that,” I said.

11
__________________

Five days passed quickly and I felt like I was spinning in place instead of moving forward. I was spending a lot of time reading, playing the piano, and writing letters to Pamela, Justine and several friends I had lost contact with. My letter to Justine was part apology and part a show of support for her new life. I wrote and rewrote the letters, but I didn't mail them immediately.

I had gone to see Hayden in
The Lion King
and went to Joe Allen's for drinks after the show with a few of his castmates. Kai had talked me into a Pilates class, which left me stretched and sore, and was trying to talk me into going to Jamaica with her for the Christmas holidays. I told her I would think about it even though I was still leaning toward going home. I talked to Mama every day, checking on Pamela's progress in rehab, and she would say, “So far, so good. God is still in the miracle business.”

I started my day with a bottle of apple juice and a toasted tomato bagel and cream cheese that I picked up at the deli near my subway stop. It was a beautiful morning pressing upon New York, with just a touch of winter in the air and wispy clouds floating in a blustery blue sky. I was on my way to the gym when my cell phone rang. It was Chris asking if I could come to his office right away. Even though I was wearing sweats, I told Chris I would be there. I had decided to go to different gyms because I had caught glimpses of Jabar working with his clients almost every time I worked out. I wondered if he had found someone to take up his Monday nights. I had managed to resist my occasional moments of temptation to call Jabar, but I thought it was best to switch gyms so I wouldn't feel so vulnerable.

When I got to the office, the receptionist told me Chris and Mr. Tyler were waiting for me in the conference room. What was Raymond Tyler doing here? I wondered as I walked down a long hallway with several numbered doors. At the end of the hallway, I finally located Conference Room D and opened the door.

“Come on in, Zola. I've got somebody who wants to talk to you,” Chris said as I walked into a windowless maple-paneled room. There was a long polished table and only a couple of chairs.

“Zola,” I heard a male voice say, and I gazed from Chris toward the voice and saw Raymond Tyler.

“Raymond, what are you doing here?” I asked, looking at him disbelievingly. He was dressed causally in a sweater and jeans, so I didn't feel so underdressed.

“I came to see if I can help,” Raymond said as he walked toward me. He gave me a hug but I still didn't know what was going on.

“Are you here representing
Bling Bling
?” I asked.

“I don't work there anymore,” Raymond said.

“What happened?” I asked.

“We can talk about that later,” Raymond said.

“Zola, I'm not bailing on you, but I think you need to talk to Raymond and he will update me later. I have another meeting right now, but you know you're in good hands.”

I looked at Chris and nodded.

When he left the conference room, Raymond told me how he resigned from
Bling Bling
and that Chris had offered him a position with his firm. He told me he hadn't decided if he was going to take Chris's offer but he wanted to help me with my lawsuit as a consultant. I was interested in what happened to make Raymond leave, but I was happy because he could now help me. I hadn't known him for long, but I already had a great deal of trust in Raymond.

“So what do we do?” I asked.

“The first thing is we're going to set up a deposition so we can find out what information Yancey B. has.”

“I tried to talk to Kirsten,” I said.

Raymond looked at me and said, “Forget about her. Kirsten's not trying to help you.”

“What about Yancey's mother, Ava? I talked to her and she is more than willing to come to New York.”

“We will definitely call her, but there are a couple of things I still need to check out. I'm going to get an investigator to help find out what was really going on at the clinic in Montana. Now, Zola, I want to tell you that I haven't done this type of case in a long time but I'm confident that we can win this thing or get it dismissed before it goes to trial,” Raymond said.

“How quickly can you make this happen?” I asked.

“I don't know, but I'd at least like to have the deposition before Christmas,” Raymond said. “It might be impossible, but we're certainly going to try.”

“That would be great, because I think Madame Ava is leaving the country at the beginning of the year.”

“We need Ava. I'm convinced she's crucial to this case, and it would be hard to enforce a court order in another country,” Raymond said.

“Do you want me to call her? I have her number.”

“No, let me handle it.”

“Great.”

“Zola, right now Chris is having one of his lawyers look over the confidentiality agreement I signed with Davis to make sure I can represent you or assist him. We think we're okay because Davis didn't hire me to be his attorney. Even if I can't represent you on the court record, I can assist. I have some information that I feel can help you, but I'll wait and share that with you later. I think you'll be pleased,” Raymond said. He smiled, and I felt encouraged.

I wanted to rush up and hug Raymond, and I felt tears forming in the corners of my eyes. It seemed like someone had sent me a knight who could help me move on and not look back. I didn't really consider myself a damsel in distress, but I have to admit that sometimes knights come right on time.