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Authors: Earl Sewell

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BOOK: Love, Lies and Scandal
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CHAPTER 6

ANGELA

W
hen Angela saw Will finally emerge from inside the building, she popped the trunk on her gold Infiniti. Will placed his luggage in the trunk and got in the car. He kissed Angela on the lips and then buckled his seat belt.

"How was your trip?" Angela asked as they drove toward the highway.

"It was good. We did plenty of team-building exercises and I attended a seminar about conflict resolution."

"How many people were there?" Angela asked as she reached for her bottled water sitting snugly inside the cup holder.

"I don't know the exact number, but I think about sixty," Will answered as he yawned. "Man, I'm tired."

"Well, it was a long flight. You're probably a little jet-lagged. You should soak in the whirlpool when we get home."

"Yeah, that sounds like a plan. Could you put some of your sea salts and aromatherapy in it for me?"

Angela smiled. "I'd love to but I have to head down to the station once I drop you off at home. I'm also going to be late getting in tonight because of the Black Journalists' meeting."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot about your meeting. You're speaking to high-school students tonight, right?" Will asked as he reclined his seat and yawned once again.

"Stop that. You know yawning is contagious."

"Can't help it, babe. Long business trips completely drain me." Will laughed.

"Well, did you get any type of sleep while you were out there?"

"Not really."

"Why not?" Angela asked.

"Sometimes it's hard to get comfortable in a strange bed. The bed was a little lumpy and the pillows were not as soft as I would have liked them to be," Will complained.

"I know how that can be," Angela agreed. "Your brother called early this morning. That fool called the house at 5:00 a.m."

"What the hell did he want?" Will asked.

"He wanted to know when you'd be home. He said that he needed to talk to you right away."

"I'll catch up with Smokey when I feel like it. I'm just not in the mood for any of his bullshit today."

"You two really should consider selling that house in Pittsburg," Angela said as she began driving through their gated community.

"Smokey doesn't want to leave there. I've talked to him about it several times and he refuses even to consider selling the property. His reasons for staying are silly, but we both own the house. I can't sell it unless he agrees."

Angela parked the car in the driveway. "Maybe he'll change his mind. It would be safer for him if he moved. Well, get your things. I'll see you later on tonight," Angela said.

"Okay, baby. I'm going to go in and take a nice long bath." Will groaned as he exited the car. He pulled his luggage out of the trunk and entered their home through the garage. Angela backed out of the driveway and continued on to work.

When Angela arrived at the television studio, she made her way toward her office. The place was buzzing with telephones ringing and multiple conversations. Her coworkers were busy getting the facts on various news stories and writing down copy for the midday news.

Angela peeked inside the control booth and said hello to Royce, a camerawoman. She continued down a narrow corridor and made her way past the office of her boss, Steve Stone.

"Angela, can I speak with you for a moment?"

Angela turned and saw that Steve had gotten up from his desk in order to catch her. Steve was a short, mousy-looking guy with a receding hairline who was fond of wearing suits that were too big for his small frame. Angela turned and walked back into Steve's office.

"Have a seat." His outstretched hand indicated a chair in front of his desk. "I saw the piece you did last night on fraud and home-based businesses."

"Did you really?" Angela asked. "What did you think?"

"It was very good. I was impressed. I wanted you to know that the station has received an unbelievable amount of phone calls asking that you do an investigation on several more companies."

"Really?" Angela smiled inwardly. She knew that Steve was more than just pleased with her investigative work.

"Yes. It appears is if this problem is more widespread than we thought in the Bay area."

"Well, I could've told you that." Angela chuckled.

"Have you ever gotten one of those e-mails from some foreign country asking for your bank account information in exchange for a ridiculous sum of money?"

"I get them all the time."

"There's a very large-scale effort to defraud people here in the Bay area. This time the crooks are not asking for bank-account information. They want cash. I'm going to forward you several e-mails that I've gotten. I want you to play along and send the monopoly money to whatever address they give. When they pick up the package, I want you to be there to expose them. Are you game?"

"You know that I am. This sounds like an assignment I'm going to enjoy."

"I thought you would." Steve and Angela both laughed. After a little more small talk, Angela headed back to her desk to work on her story for the five o'clock news broadcast.

After the broadcast of the evening news, Angela unhooked her microphone and walked toward her office. She sat down and began going through her mail. As she was reading a letter, her cell phone rang.

"Hello, this is Angela," she greeted the caller.

"Why are some men so damn retarded?" It was Regina. Angela chuckled.

"What are you talking about?" Angela stopped reading her mail, reclined in her seat and gave her full attention to Regina.

"I'm talking about a hell date that I went on."

"Hell date? Oh Lord. This is going to be good. Where are you?" Angela asked. "I hear a lot of noise in the background."

"I'm walking down the street to my car. I'm just leaving my belly-dancing class."

Angela chuckled. "When did you decide to take up belly dancing?"

"When I saw that they offered the class at my gym. Tonight was my first night and the sister who teaches it knows how to work her hips. She had the class try a few basic moves and I swear, I think one of my kidneys got dislocated."

"You can't dislocate a kidney." Angela laughed out loud.

"Well, I'm telling you that it feels as if I've shifted my damn kidney. But anyway, that's not why I called."

"Well, come on, spill the beans and stop playing."

"Okay. I met this brother named Craig at First Friday's last month."

"How come you didn't tell me you'd met someone? Why have you been holding out on me?"

"Because I wasn't ready to talk about my traumatic experience yet."

"Traumatic?"

"Yes, traumatic. Now are you going to let me finish?" Regina asked.

"Go on, I'm listening."

"Craig is drop-dead fine. Tall, well-groomed, pretty smile, athletic build and a product of an historically black college. But little did I know his name was Mr. Diva."

"Mr. Diva? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Will you let me finish?"

"Sorry, you know it's just my nature to ask questions."

"So, like I said, we met at First Friday's. I learned that he was a vice president of sales at Soul 98, a hot new radio station here in Chicago. We really hit it off. He had a great sense of humor, he made me laugh and he paid attention to me. The brother was making all the right moves. We exchanged phone numbers and spoke on the phone a few times. I learned that he has a loft on the near-west side of the city where they've gutted and remodeled a lot of the old warehouses. We decided to set up our first date. He took me to the Wine-Tasting Room near Harpo Studios."

"What's that place like? I've never been there before."

"It's very nice. I'll take you the next time you're in town. It's a place where you can sample different wines, listen to poetry and jazz..."

"Sounds romantic," Angela said.

"It's very romantic. So we go there, order chocolate fondue, have a great conversation and taste several different wines. Needless to say, after a few glasses, my ass started getting hot, and Craig was well on his way to getting his world rocked. We listened to jazz, shared a few kisses and drank more wine. Then he asks if I like the singer named Silky. To which I replied, yes, I love his music."

"Oh, I like his music, too. Especially that sexy song 'Instant Message Passion,'" Angela chimed in.

"That's one of my favorite songs, as well. Not to mention Silky is drop-dead sexy. Because I'd do him in a New York minute. So Craig says that Silky is an old college buddy of his. 'He's in town for a fund-raiser. Would you like to hang out with Silky for a little while?' he said. I was like, boom, let's go kick it with Silky, not a problem with me. So we leave the Wine-Tasting Room and head back toward the Ritz Carlton Hotel before the fund-raiser. When we get to the Ritz Carlton, we head on up to Silky's suite. We get off of the elevator and my legs suddenly feel weak. I think it was a combination of the wine and the excitement of meeting Silky. Craig knocks on Silky's door and Silky opens it up. And, girl, let me tell you. That man looks even better in person. I mean he made me want to scream like some nerdy high-school girl."

"You weren't acting all retarded, were you, Regina?"

"Girl, no. You know that I played it calm, cool and collected."

"So what did Silky say to you?" Angela was anxious to know.

"Angela, he looked at me and I swear he was undressing me with his eyes. He said, 'Hello, baby, my name's Silky. What's yours?' I told him my name as I trailed behind Craig inside the suite. Once inside the hotel suite, I took in the beauty of the room, which had floor-to-ceiling windows and a spectacular view of the city. As I was admiring the view, I noticed that Silky slapped Craig on his ass. I didn't think anything of it because it was the kind of ass-slapping I'd seen football and basketball players do all of the time. I asked Silky where the bathroom was so that I could go freshen up. 'It's the last door down that corridor over there,' he says.

"So I head to the washroom to make sure that my makeup is still in order and that I still look as fabulous as ever. When I came out of the bathroom and walked back into the room where I'd left them--girl, I could have been shot with a bag of shit and left hanging to stank when I saw what they were doing."

"What were they doing?" Angela was on the edge of her seat with anticipation.

"Girl, they were tonguing each other down!"

"Get out of here! They were kissing?"

"Kissing, squeezing and sucking each other's bottom lip."

"You're bullshitting!"

"You know, when I first saw them doing that, I said, now hold on, girl. Maybe you've had too much to drink and the shit you're seeing just isn't real. So I turned around, went back into the bathroom and placed some cold water around my eyes. I came back out and they were still going at it."

"So, what did you do?" Angela asked.

"I stood there stunned and traumatized."

"Oh, hell no! I would've been, like, what the fuck is going on with you two?"

"Well, I did interrupt them."

"What happened after you interrupted them?"

"I said, are you guys gay? And they both looked at me and said, hell no!"

"Bullshit. If you're kissing on another man and slapping his ass, you're gay," Angela said. "What happened next?"

"I did what any sister in her right mind would do. I left. I went downstairs, had the doorman hail me a cab so that I could go home. I must've brushed my teeth and tongue for a full hour once I got in the house. Then I got pissed off. I mean, how dare that motherfucker bring me to his bitch's house! I mean, honestly, what kind of shit was that?"

"I don't know, but damn! Silky is on the down low. This would make a great topic for my show,
Love, Lies and Scandal,
if Bobbi ever calls back. Celebrities with secret love lives."

"What are you rambling on about?" Regina asked.

"I submitted a proposal to someone for a reality show called,
Love, Lies and Scandal.
Do you think you could put me in touch with Silky's lover? Perhaps if I can convince him to let me do an interview it would--"

"Now, you've pissed me off, Angela," Regina snapped angrily.

"I'm sorry, okay. I didn't mean to sound so insensitive. I'm sorry that you went through that."

"I am, too. Anyway, I'll talk to you later." Regina sounded hurt.

"Don't be mad at me. I just got caught up in the sensationalism of your story."

"I'm tired of talking about this. I'll talk to you later," Regina said and hung up the phone.

"Shit," Angela hissed. She knew that she'd inadvertently trampled on Regina's feelings. She made a mental note to herself to send flowers to her friend's office in the morning as a peace offering. She knew that Regina's wound was still raw, but with time she'd be okay.

Angela looked at her watch and realized that if she didn't get a move on she'd be late for her meeting. She gathered up her belongings and headed toward the conference room where she'd be giving her speech to high-school students interested in careers in journalism.

CHAPTER 7

J
O
A
NN

O
ver two days, JoAnn had traveled between three hotel casinos: the Bellagio Hotel, Caesar's Palace and the MGM Grand Hotel. At each hotel and at every gambling table, JoAnn suffered heavy losses because she couldn't bring herself to stop.

JoAnn lost three thousand dollars playing blackjack at the Bellagio. She suffered another three-thousand-dollar loss at Caesar's Palace playing poker. She lost an additional fifteen hundred dollars playing roulette and four hundred and fifty dollars at the slot machines at the MGM Grand Hotel.

JoAnn was now sitting in front of a slot machine, hoping her luck would change and she'd win big. She decided to play three slot machines at the same time. She wasn't about to allow someone on either side of her sit down, pull the handle once and win.

In a short amount of time, JoAnn gambled away the last of the money she'd taken from the safe. She closed her eyes and dropped her chin into her chest. Hastily, she brushed the tips of her fingers across her eyelids several times to smear away the tears that threatened to fall.

JoAnn held her head up and took in a few deep breaths. "My hand was itching," she said to herself. "And whenever the palms of my hands itch or tingle, I know that it means I'm about to hit it big. It's a sign. That has always been my intuitive signal which lets me know that money would be coming my way." JoAnn felt a massive migraine building. She gathered up her belongings and stepped away from the slot machine. She slowly wandered to the end of the slot-machine aisle, dreading having to go up to her hotel room. She stopped when she heard a loud ringing coming from one of the slot machines behind her. She spun around and noticed that a woman had sat down at one of the machines she had been playing and had just hit it big.

"No, no, no!" JoAnn hustled back toward the woman who was screaming for one of her girlfriends to rush over to her.

"That's my money," JoAnn shouted out above the noise. "That's my machine and that's my money!" she screamed at the woman. "Did you hear what I said? That's my money."

"Yeah, right." The woman huffed as she began placing coins into her bucket.

"I want my money. I was playing this machine and I put my money in it."

"I'm not giving you a damn thing," the woman snapped as her girlfriends arrived.

"I want my damn money! You were probably sitting somewhere watching me just waiting for me to get up." JoAnn made a quick move and tried to snatch the bucket away from the woman who fought her off.

"Come on! You want some of me?" The woman removed a can of pepper spray from her purse and aimed it at JoAnn. The two women glared at each other for a moment before JoAnn finally conceded.

"Fuck it! Just fuck it, and fuck you, bitch!" JoAnn turned and walked away as quickly as she could. She made her way to a sitting area and sat down. She cried before pulling herself back together. She asked one of the waitresses who was passing for the time.

"It's one o' clock," the woman said.

"In the afternoon?" JoAnn asked because she couldn't believe that she'd been gone all night.

"Yes," the waitress answered and continued on her way.

"Damn, Jesse is probably searching for me." JoAnn reached inside her purse and pulled out her cell phone. Sure enough, there were several missed calls from him.

"Okay, girl. Pull yourself together. It's not that bad. Jesse will understand. He'll be mad but he'll understand." JoAnn tried to convince herself of her own words. There was no logical reason for what she'd done and she knew it.

"I have to get Jesse to understand that I just made a mistake and I'll make all of this up to him. He'll accept that. I'll just tell him how sorry I am and that it will never happen again." JoAnn sat in her seat for another hour talking to herself and thinking so hard that her stomach turned sour. She finally got herself together, took a deep breath and headed up to their room to apologize.

JoAnn placed her door key inside the slot. When she crossed the threshold, she could hear Jesse on the phone. Once inside the room, she froze. Jesse sounded as if he was on the phone with the bank.

"Are you sure there was no deposit or wire transfer placed into the account?"

She peeked around the corner. Jesse's back was toward her and he hadn't heard her come in. JoAnn took a few steps forward and noticed that he had opened up the room safe.

Damn, she thought. He already knows the money is gone.

"Are you sure that there isn't some mistake? The money should have hit the account yesterday."

JoAnn felt nauseous. Jesse finally turned and acknowledged her.

"Never mind. Thank you for your help. My wife's here. I'll ask her for the confirmation receipt and call you back," Jesse said and hung up the phone. "Where have you been?"

"Don't yell at me," JoAnn whined as she sat down at the foot of the bed. "I'm getting a headache."

"Where have you been?" Jesse asked with a calmer tone. "I need your help. I've called the bank and they have no record of money being deposited. Give me the wire transfer receipt so that I can help them track where the money is."

"Jesse, baby." JoAnn looked at him as teardrops raced down her cheeks.

"JoAnn, where is the receipt?" he asked again with a little more authority.

"It's hard to explain." Her voice trembled.

"Where is the money, JoAnn?" Jesse folded his arms across his chest and waited for an answer.

"I was just trying to win a little extra money for us, that's all. I had good intentions." JoAnn's words came out in spurts.

"JoAnn! What the fuck are you talking about?" Jesse shouted and waved his arms like a madman.

"Just calm down, baby. I'm going to make it up to you. I promise."

"JoAnn, where in the fuck is the eight thousand, five hundred dollars that I asked you to deposit?" Jesse began clenching his fists.

"I blew it, okay? I'm sorry." JoAnn began to slap her head with the palms of her hands as if she were trying to beat some sense into her brain. "I didn't know how to stop. I got caught up. I--I--I made a bad judgment call and I'm sorry but I gambled away the money," JoAnn said as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"You mean to tell me that you gambled away eight grand in two days!"

"I'm telling you that I wasn't myself. I didn't know how to stop. My palms kept itching. I knew I was going to win, it was just a matter of time. When my palms itch, it always means that I have money coming my way. This is the first time that it hasn't worked."

"I don't believe this shit!" Jesse began pacing like a caged tiger. "I've been to the support groups with you for gambling. I've been to the Alcoholics Anonymous meetings with you. I've been through so much bullshit with you, JoAnn. I've gone from trusting and loving you to being suspicious and leery of you and back to trusting you again. I thought we'd moved past your addictions. Don't you realize that your issues have the power to destroy our marriage? Don't you realize you can financially ruin us?"

"I just messed up a little money, Jesse. It's not the end of the world." JoAnn hoped to downplay the severity of what she'd done. She caught his gaze and noticed his eyes were laced with anger and damnation.

"There is no doubt in my mind that you fully understand the impact of your behavior. I'm tired, JoAnn. No, wait. Forget I said that. I'm not tired. I'm pissed off about this. Do you have any idea what it took for me to excuse your faults and flaws and learn how to trust you again? Do you have any idea of how many times I had to tell myself that I wasn't an idiot for loving you the way that I do? I can't believe you've done this to us again."

"I'm sorry," JoAnn said softly. Jesse stopped pacing and she could see that he was calculating something.

"You planned this. That's why you didn't show up to support me at the race. You were out gambling then and lost track of time." Jesse glanced at JoAnn who was horrified that he was able to figure her out so easily.

"Then, when I came home from the race, you pulled an orgasm out of me quick so that you could run off and gamble some more while I was sleeping." Jesse once again looked at his wife, and, based on the expression she had on her face, he knew that she'd deceived him.

"I never thought I'd have to go through some shit like this with you again--the last time was bad enough," Jesse growled at her as though some evil spirit possessed him.

"You'd better not hit me, Jesse," JoAnn warned.

"I'd better not
what!
" Jesse's evil rage was in control of him now. "I'd better not do
what?
" he barked at her again.

"I know that I fucked this up. Believe me, I feel bad about--" Jesse lunged at JoAnn and locked his hands on her throat and began choking her. As she fought to free herself from his grip, they tumbled to the floor. Jesse was too strong for her and easily positioned her on her back and straddled her. JoAnn had her hands locked around his wrists and was trying to pry them away from her throat.

"Eight thousand dollars! You blew eight thousand of my goddamn money! I should kill your ass!" Jesse slammed her head against the floor several times. JoAnn slapped and punched him on the side of his face, but her blows didn't do any damage.

"You don't fuck up money like that!" he shouted as JoAnn began gasping for air. She could feel herself beginning to black out. "Do you hear me?" Jesse lifted her head up and slammed it against the floor again. "Why!"

"You're killing me." JoAnn managed to find enough breath to squeeze out those few words. Her eyes began to float upward into her skull. At that moment, Jesse immediately released his pit-bull clasp. JoAnn sucked in air, coughed and managed to crawl from beneath him. Jesse rose to his feet as JoAnn crept into the bathroom, slammed the door shut and locked herself inside.

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