Riding the Corporate Ladder (Indigo) (20 page)

“Maybe he has a trainer,” Natasha offered.

“Yeah, them rich people be having trainers,” Latasha agreed.

“I don’t know what his deal is,” Deena said, “but he sure had me confused. I go in there thinking he’s gonna be wrapped around my little finger, but I’m the one who was standing there with my mouth open. He saw it, too, but he didn’t say anything.”

Latasha chuckled. “Deena got caught checking out the booty.”

“I didn’t get caught,” Deena said. “He just asked me to sit down, and I didn’t hear him right away—that’s all. He didn’t think nothing of it.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Natasha said.

“Niggas ain’t stupid,” Latasha agreed.

“Anyway,” Deena said, “after I sat down he started telling me about how he’s been monitoring my career. He said I’m a shining star in the firm.”

“Shining star.” Latasha giggled.

“Shut up,” Deena said with a smirk. “You’re just mad because you never been a shining star anywhere.”

“Oh, yes I have.” Latasha got her neck working. “Mr. Brown said I was a shining star. He put me up on the bulletin board and everything.”

“That’s cause you boned him,” Natasha retorted.

Deena’s eyes grew wide. Mr. Brown was their Social Studies teacher in the eleventh grade. He only taught one year before deciding he wanted to be a marketing executive instead, but the students never forgot him. Fresh out of college, he was the youngest teacher they ever had. He was hip and cool. He was attractive too. Some girls would lose their homework on purpose just so they could do detention with him after school.

“You boned Mr. Brown?” Deena asked. She was truly shocked. She thought she knew everything about her friends.

“No, I didn’t,” Latasha said, but her sister gave her a knowing look.

“You remember that time you stayed late for detention,” Natasha reminded her.

“I didn’t do no detention.”

“Yes, you did, ’cause I had to wait in the cafeteria for you.”

“I didn’t bone him, though.”

“You gave him some head.”

“That’s not boning.”

Deena watched the back and forth banter with her mouth ajar. “You a freak,” she said finally.

“Look who’s talking,” Latasha said. She had her head tilted now. “Now go on and finish your story about how you gonna screw yo boss so you can get a better job.”

Natasha laughed. Deena did, too.

“So as I was saying,” she went on, “he told me I was making a lot of waves. He said there were people lined up for certain spots, but I was doing so well, they might have to rethink their original plans.” Deena was beaming; she couldn’t help it.

“Nice,” Latasha said.

“So he said you was gon’ get the new job?” Natasha asked.

“No,” Deena said. “He didn’t bring up the junior partner position at all, but I know that’s what he was talking about. Supposedly he just wanted to tell me I was doing a great job and to keep up the good work.”

“Couldn’t he have just sent you a card?” Natasha asked.

“I’ve been thinking about that, too,” Deena said. “If that’s all he wanted, he could have said it in the email. He wanted to see me in person.”

“He’s sizing you up,” Latasha ventured.

“You’re the one they wanna give the job to,” Natasha predicted.

Deena couldn’t hide her excitement. “You think so?”

“Yeah, but you can’t bank on that,” Latasha warned.

“It don’t hurt to get an ace in the hole,” her sister tacked on.

Deena already figured she needed an ace in the hole. It was good to see that she wasn’t alone in this thinking.

“If he fine, you can get some fun out of it,” Latasha said.

Again, Deena had been thinking the same. “Mr. Markham is very fine,” she said.

“Then go for it,” Natasha said. “Get your rocks off, girl.”

“Just make sure he knows which one you are,” Latasha said.

Deena’s face registered confusion. “Huh?”

“I’m the one who gave Mr. Brown some extra credit,” Latasha said. “But she got the A on her report card.” She shot a thumb in her sister’s direction.

“That ain’t my fault,” Natasha said. “You shoulda wore a nametag.”

“That’s all right,” Latasha said. She leaned back and took a long sip of her drink. “ ’Cause I didn’t have no name tag on when Demarcus came looking for you that time. Towards the end, I think he knew I wasn’t you. He just didn’t care.”

Deena’s eyes widened. She started to back away from the table to avoid any stray blows, but the twins rarely fought over boys. Turnabout is always a much sweeter revenge anyway.

“Yeah, just like Ricky knew it wasn’t your coochie he was licking on,” Natasha countered. “He kept talking ‘bout, ‘Damn, girl. You said you shaved this off for me.’ And I was like, ‘It grew back, nigga. Shut up and keep licking!’ ”

Again, Deena had to state the obvious. “Y’all some freaks.”

“Everything we know, we learned from you,” Natasha shot back.

Deena couldn’t believe she would say such a thing. “How you figure that?”

“You lost your virginity before we did,” Latasha reminded her.

“You’re the one who told us how good it was,” her sister said.

Deena rolled her eyes at them. “I told you dick is good. I didn’t tell you to go play with all of them.”

The girls laughed.

“And you were going to find out about dick anyway,” Deena said. “Y’all got hoochie in your blood. You can’t blame me for that.”

* * *

The twins left at nine. When someone rang the doorbell thirty minutes later, Deena thought one of them left her purse. But she checked the peephole and saw her brother standing under the porch light. Deena opened the door with the same look of frustration she always wore for Spencer, but deep down she was happy to see him. Every day she saw her brother rather than getting a call about where they found his body was a good day.

“Man, what are you doing here?”

Spencer wore black jeans with white tennis shoes and a wife-beater. His britches were well worn and stained with what looked like motor oil. His tank top was not only dingy, but it was too big as well. It hung from his emaciated frame like he was playing dress-up with daddy’s clothes. He was dark-skinned and ashen - even his hair was dusty - but he smiled at his sister, and that gave her the peace of mind to smile back.

“What’s going on, lil’ sis?” He stepped in and threw his arms around her. Deena hadn’t showered yet, so she didn’t mind, but Boogie charged forward, yipping his little head off.

“Be quiet!” Deena yelled, but she could hardly hear herself over the racket. “You want to go to your room?”

Spencer smiled down at the menacing pooch. “Why yo dog don’t like me?”

“Every man who comes to this house is supposed to have a job,” Deena informed him. “Boogie can smell unemployment from across the street. Go to your room!” she ordered when the dog wouldn’t quiet down.

Boogie stopped barking immediately, but he did not leave right away. He turned to his master with a pitiful expression as if to say I know you’re not sending me away. I’m trying to protect you from this monster!

Deena laughed. “Go sit over there and be quiet then.”

Boogie reluctantly returned to his spot next to the couch. He gave Spencer one more hard glare before squatting on his haunches.

Spencer laughed and plopped down on the loveseat. Deena reached to stop him but didn’t make it in time.

“That’s a smart dog,” he said. “You should enter him in some contests.”

“You gonna have to wait for me to put some plastic down before you sit there,” Deena said. “You smell like straight doo-doo.”

Spencer laughed, but he also leaned forward and pulled his leg up so he could look under his shoe. “Oh, my bad.”

“Ewww!” Deena was instantly pissed. “Get up! Get those shoes outta here!”

Boogie took this as his cue to get aggressive. He charged Spencer again, but Deena was right on top of it.

“Boogie, go to your room!”

The terrier stopped in his tracks, but his puppy dog look couldn’t save him this time. Deena kept narrow eyes on him until he was out of sight.

Spencer kicked his sneakers off and left them on the porch. His socks were so dingy, it looked like he still had shoes on. He came back and sat on the loveseat again.

Deena had already returned from the kitchen with carpet cleaner and a scrub brush. She dropped to her knees and went to work on the two spots she saw on the floor. She looked up at he brother, who reclined leisurely.

“You should be cleaning this up,” she said.

“I will if you want me to.”

“That’s all right,” Deena said. “Don’t look like you got the energy.”

“I am tired, sis. I need a vacation.”

Deena frowned at him. “I thought you were already on vacation. Your life couldn’t get any easier.”

He grinned. “Easy? You think it’s easy being out on them streets?”

“You don’t have to wake up at any particular hour,” Deena said. “You don’t have to be anywhere all day. You don’t have a job or any bills or anyone to be responsible for. Sounds like a pretty chill gig.”

Her brother chuckled. “Trust me, my habit is a full time job,” he said. “I wake up every day with not a dime in my pocket, but I know I need at least fifty dollars’ worth of crack—every day. I steals. I got to run from the police. I done had guns pointed right in my face, Dee. And sometimes I go through all of that and find out I got bipped.”

“What’s bipped?”

“That’s when they sell you something, but it ain’t what it’s supposed to be. Like if it’s dark, I done got bipped with sheetrock, cut up walnuts, soap—even a regular rock off the street one time.”

That was both funny and sad at the same time. “What do you do when you get bipped?” Deena asked.

“That’s the thang,” Spencer said. “You can either go back to them niggas who done it and get your ass kicked, or you can charge it to the game and go on about your business. Either way you gonna be heartbroken, but ain’t no need in getting beat down on top of that.”

“I think I’d go on about my business,” Deena agreed.

“And we got two places that serves breakfast,” Spencer went on. “But if you don’t get yo ass up by seven, you shit out of luck for food until lunchtime. So, yeah, I do be having to wake up early—just like with a regular job.”

Deena hardly considered standing in line at the soup kitchen the same as having a regular job, but she got his point. “So what are you doing over here tonight?” she asked.

He grinned at her. “I just told you: I need fifty dollars.”

Deena shook her head. “Boy, you—”

“Oh, yeah, and I got good news for you,” he said. “Sheila and that dude broke up.”

A quick smile lit Deena’s face. “That car salesman?”

Spencer nodded. “Mmm-hmm. I called over to Mama’s today, and Aunt Cheryl told me.”

Deena’s giddiness was irreplaceable. “Why’d they break up? Did he leave her? He didn’t want to fool with them bad-ass kids, right?”

“I knew you was gon’ act like that. Girl, you sho’ is messy.”

“Shut up and tell me why they broke up.”

“I don’t know why they broke up. All I know is they broke up and Sheila been feeling bad about it.”

And that was enough for Deena.

“So is you gon’ let me take a shower?” Spencer asked.

“Sure—in the guest room. And you gotta clean the tub when you get out. I’m not cleaning up after you anymore.”

He got up and stretched his weary bones. “And what about the fifty?”

“I guess,” Deena said, still thinking about how she could use her newly acquired information to make her sister cry.

Spencer stared into her eyes. “You thinking about how you can throw that in her face, ain’t you?”

“Boy, get in the tub!”

* * *

Spencer was halfway through his bath when the phone rang. Deena didn’t recognize the incoming number.

“Hello?”

“Hey, what’s happening, girl.” It was Keshaun.

“Nothing.”

“I’m calling early today,” he said.

Deena checked her clock with a sly smile. “It’s ten-thirty.”

“This is early for me,” he said. “I’m still too late?”

“Too late for what?”

“You know what I want.”

“No, tell me.”

“Why, so you can play with yourself? I already told you I ain’t down for that.”

Deena laughed. “I wasn’t even thinking about that.”

“So you gon’ let me come over there and get some of that or what?”

“Where are you? Around the corner?”

“No. I’m still on the south side. I haven’t even got in the car yet.”

Good, Deena thought. Good boy. “All right, come on.”

“Cool. I’m on my way.” He hung up quickly.

Deena hung up, too, her pulse already quickening.