My Woman His Wife Saga (15 page)

Tears came from nowhere as she reached for the bag of money. Taking a handful and throwing it up in the air the money slowly floated in the air landing on her wet skin and around her on the bed. She rolled around on the money until it stuck all over her body while she cried for reasons she didn't even know. Finally falling asleep, Monica felt a little peace for getting Tanya out, and wondered what she was going to do about her and Jasmine's situation.

“James, you already wore that shirt this week. Why can't you just wear a different one? What's wrong with the one you got on?” Jasmine said to James, tired of the entire disagreement. They had been arguing about that damn shirt all morning and she didn't want to hear anymore about it.

“I don't want to wear another one, I want that one. I told you I had a meeting today, and that's my lucky shirt. Every account we've ever landed at T.U.N.N., I was wearing that shirt,” James replied while adjusting his tie in the mirror.

James had since put on a different top, but his irritation at the situation hadn't lessened any. He didn't really care about the shirt, he was just picking a fight with Jazz so he would have a reason to not come straight home. He was meeting up with Monica to discuss “business,” and didn't want Jazz to know his whereabouts.

“Well, I don't know what the hell you want me to do then, James. I apologized for not getting the shirt cleaned, what else do you want?”

“I want you out of my presence. The sight of you is sickening me,” James replied, still looking in the mirror. He knew he had gone there, and was waiting for Jasmine's reaction.

Jasmine had to step back for a minute to register what she had just heard. James hadn't turned from the mirror, and that pissed her off even more. Before she knew what happened, she had taken her shoe off and aimed it toward James, the heel hitting the back of his head with a dull thud. Before he could grab the back of his head, she was already on the other side of the room.

“I know you done lost your damn mind!” Jasmine yelled into James's face as he caressed the knot on the back of his head. “I don't know who you thought I was, but if you ever mistake me for one of those flunky bitches at your job again, shit will get ugly real fast.”

Walking away, she grabbed her blazer from the bed and put her shoe back on before grabbing her briefcase. James was still shocked by her reaction. He was expecting her to snap, but not like that, and he would never admit that it scared him a little bit.

“Oh, and by the way,” Jasmine said before exiting the room, “the five minutes you gave me last night sickened me. Get it together because I'm tired of being a damn actress. I went to school to study law, not to fake orgasms with your trifling ass.”

James didn't get a chance to respond as she exited the room. Watching her from the bedroom window, he saw her get into her Blazer and realized after she had pulled off that she didn't have the kids with her. Racing down the stairs, he stopped at the kitchen entrance, his angels sitting at the table eating breakfast while watching cartoons on the thirteen-inch color television.

“Now she know damn well I didn't have time to take these kids to school,” James said as he raced upstairs to gather his stuff, hoping God would spare him a traffic jam so he wouldn't be late for his meeting.

Once he got the kids settled in the car, he searched for his cell phone and almost side-swiped a school bus as he zoomed through his neighborhood well past the speed limit. Dialing Jasmine's number, he waited until the answering machine picked up before hanging up and dialing again. It took three calls before she answered the line.

“What, James?” Jasmine said still obviously irritated.

“Why would you leave the kids with me knowing I was already running late?” James barked into the phone, getting even more frustrated at the snail's pace traffic movement.

“You should have thought about that before you changed your shirt four times,” Jasmine responded nonchalantly, knowing it would get under his skin even more.

“How many times I changed my shirt is beside the point! You knew I had something to do this morning.” James glanced at the clock on the dashboard and the sea of cars in front of him, the scene making him madder by the second.

“Nigga, I do that every morning, so deal with it!” Jasmine just hung up. James, hating not having the last word, dialed her number right back waiting for her to answer.

“Don't you hang up . . .” before James could finish the sentence Jasmine had already fed him the dial tone. Moving to call one more time, he looked up to see his children's school up the block and decided to call after he got them situated. He didn't like arguing in front of the kids, and was upset that they had seen him angry with their mother.

After walking the kids to their respective classrooms and giving each a hug and five dollars because he felt guilty about arguing in front of them, he jumped back in his car and raced toward the expressway. His eyes just happened to catch the reading on the gas gauge; the red arrow wasn't that far from the E. Not wanting to be any later than he already was but not sure if he would make it to the city on what little gas he had, James reluctantly pulled into the gas station, calling his boss before he got out of the car.

Fidgeting around for his wallet as he apologized repeatedly to his boss, James almost lost it as he remembered leaving his wallet on the kitchen table. Having given his last ten dollars to his kids, he thought he would go crazy as he searched frantically for a credit card, knowing he wouldn't find one in the car. Not knowing what to do, the first person he thought to call was Monica as he rested his head on the steering wheel in an attempt to calm down. Calling Jasmine instead, he waited for her to answer her phone as he rationalized what to do next.

“What, James?” Jasmine talked into the phone, sounding like she wasn't in the mood for his shit.

“I need you to come give me gas money. I left my wallet in the house, and gave the money I had to the kids.”

“And I care because of what?” Jasmine came back as she entered the law firm and made her way to her office, surprised to see Sheila and not the temporary secretary who was occupying the space the week before. Jasmine had been in court all week, and didn't know Sheila was back in the office.

“Jazz, come on with the bullshit. I'm not working with a lot of gas here. What's in the tank won't get me to work,” James said with desperation creeping into his voice.

“You better take a cab, my trial starts in a few minutes.”

“I just said . . .” Jasmine hung up.

Not knowing what to do, James began dialing Monica's number. Before he could finish dialing, he looked up just in time to see Monica roll into the gas station at the pump next to his. Silently thanking God for looking out, he rushed over to Monica, explaining the situation he was in. She didn't hesitate to pass over her gas card as James promised to make it up to her later while he filled up his tank. Not having time to talk, he gave her a kiss on the cheek and hopped in his car, arriving at work just as the presentation for new business was beginning. He made it by the skin of his teeth, and knew he would hear it later, but by the time he sealed the deal and had their newest client sign on the dotted line, all of that would be forgotten.

 

 

Snapping her cell phone closed, Jasmine signaled Sheila to meet her in her office so they could talk. Sheila grabbed a pencil and paper after getting Jasmine a cup of coffee. Stepping into her office, Jasmine held up one finger indicating she would be with Sheila after she finished her call. While listening, she graciously took the cup of steaming liquid, silently thanking Sheila for the beverage. Sheila occupied herself by drawing little knife and bullet wounds on a sketch of Monica as she waited for Jasmine to end her call. Ten minutes later Jasmine hung up, finally able to talk to Sheila.

“So, Sheila, how have you been? I didn't know you were coming back into the office today,” Jasmine said as she searched her briefcase for the files she had placed there this morning. She was glad to have Sheila back. Not that the secretary she had wasn't doing her job, but it's smoother when you have someone who already knows what to do.

It had been a while since Sheila had been to work, and her first week felt kind of awkward. Now that she knew everyone's secrets, it was harder to look at Jasmine in the face every day and not have the urge to tell her what was really going on. She wondered if she and Monica were still sleeping together, and what could she do to get her out of the picture.

Yeah, Monica treated her like shit, but Sheila figured that was the only way she knew how to show her true feelings toward her. Monica could be very aggressive when she wanted something, and Sheila chalked it up as her not knowing how to express herself.

Sitting in Jasmine's office waiting to take notation for a court-ordered child support document, Sheila kept her fake smile in place while Jasmine told her all about how things were going with her and James.

I wish this chick would come the fuck on,
Sheila thought to herself. She was waiting to hear from Monica, and was already developing an attitude because she hadn't returned her call yet. It was already lunchtime, and she had called Monica's cell phone at least seven times since eight that morning.

“So, what do you think I should do?” Jasmine asked Sheila in the midst of correcting notes for the document Sheila would be typing up.

“I'm not sure,” Sheila responded partly because she hadn't heard a word Jasmine had said.

“Well, do you think I should go with the sexy cream dress, or the magenta pant suit? I look good in either one, but . . .” Jasmine continued, unaware that Sheila was once again paying her no mind.

“I think you should go with the cream, but why all the trouble?” Sheila asked, trying to jump back into the conversation she had missed. She wanted everything cool so when she put her plan into action everything would work to her benefit.

“Because we said some hurtful things to each other this morning, and I really want our marriage to work. This on-again, off-again relationship is not working for me. I need something more solid.” Jasmine thought about the latest events in her life. She wanted things to be how they were when she and James first got married, but she didn't have the slightest idea of how to get there again.

“Maybe do something that shows you're trying to work it out. An ‘I'm sorry even though it's your fault' gift.”

“Please explain.” Jasmine laughed as she gathered her papers on her desk. This had to be good, and she wanted to give Sheila her undivided attention.

“Well, what was the argument about?” Sheila asked again because while Jasmine was talking to her she wasn't paying her any mind.

“I forgot to get his lucky shirt cleaned for his business meeting today. He wears it every time he signs a deal,” Jasmine said recapping her morning.

“Okay, since he already decided to wear a different shirt, as a gesture of kindness add two more shirts to his wardrobe. Men in James's position can never have too many button-down shirts with him having to wear suits all the time. What's his favorite sport?”

“Basketball,” Jasmine said, wondering what she was getting at.

“Buy him two tickets for tomorrow night's game and make reservations for dinner at his favorite restaurant. After all that, break him off real nice and put him to sleep. He'll be fine in the morning.”

“That sounds good, but when will I find time to do all that? I have to be to the courthouse in twenty minutes and . . .”

“Look, I'll go get the shirts and tickets during my lunch time. Start tonight by making him dinner to see if it'll soften him up a little.”

“That may just work. Will four hundred dollars do?” Jasmine said while searching her pocket book for a MAC card so she could use the machine in the lobby.

“Sure, I'll go over to Business Men, Inc. and see what they have on sale. Maybe I can find ties to match too, and I can order tickets over the phone for the game and pick them up before I come back. I have connections so I can probably get him courtside seats,” Sheila said while gathering her paperwork from the desk. She planned to spend the afternoon shopping at Jasmine's expense, and would be walking out the door right next to her.

“That'll work. How fast can you have it done? I'll be back in the office by four.”

“Are you extending my lunch break?” Sheila wanted to know so that she could cover her ass if something went down.

“Yeah, take as long as you need. Just have it by the time I get back.”

“I will, don't worry. Now get going. I have some calls to make.”

Taking her seat as Jasmine raced out of the office, Sheila sat down to call Monica one more time before leaving. This not answering the phone thing was making her mad, especially since she found out that Tanya was out of jail. Sheila was under the assumption that Monica and Tanya were together and that's why Monica wasn't answering her phone.

Nothing could be further from the truth. Monica hadn't heard from Tanya since the opening of the restaurant she had purchased for her. Monica was too busy trying to get pregnant again by James so she could put her plan into action, and Tanya was the furthest thing from her mind. The pregnancy test she took already confirmed the obvious, but Monica wanted to be extra sure this time. It just so happened that Monica was about to call Sheila when her phone began to ring.

“Just the person I wanted to hear from. What's good with you?” Monica said into the phone like everything was cool. She wanted Sheila to come over to her house when James got there so they could have the threesome. There was no way James could resist both of them at the same time.

“I've been calling you all week. Why haven't you returned my calls?” Sheila responded, heated because of Monica's nonchalant attitude. Sheila was tired of playing cat and mouse with Monica and Jasmine. She wanted to end this nonsense as soon as possible so she could move on with her life.

“I've been extra busy, sweetie. I'm sure you understand and I am so glad you called.”