The List (16 page)

I swallowed hard to keep the rest of the story from spilling out. For the last two years of my marriage, I stopped taking the pill because I wanted a baby even if we did split up. I knew the stats for black women my age getting married again. And of course I couldn't have a child without being married. So I decided to get pregnant and have me a baby. Even if it meant I had to be connected to my ex for the rest of my life. At least I'd have a child.

But I never got pregnant. So now, in the back of my mind, I had this nagging fear that maybe something was wrong with me and I couldn't have a baby. Which was why I wouldn't mind marrying a man that already had children. Just in case.

Jason stopped rubbing my back and leaned his elbows on the table. “Even though they're going through hell right now, I can't imagine not having my girls. Maybe I'm being selfish, because I hate what they're going through, but they are my world. I guess if I had realized how things were going to turn out, I would have been smart like you and not brought kids into a bad situation. Looking back, all the signs were there that Latrice was a materialistic gold digger. But she was so pretty and so sweet, and I was just dumb and wanted to make her happy. So, I let her make us live beyond our means, getting us—me—in a load of debt. And when I couldn't provide enough for her, she went off and found someone who could.”

“She left you with a bunch of debt? You couldn't get it back in the divorce?”

He shook his head. “It would have dragged things out longer, and I just wanted to get over it. Plus, I'm a man. I'm not gonna beg for money from a woman.”

“Even if it's her debt?”

He shook his head.

“Does she at least pay you child support? It would at least be a way of getting back all she took from you.”

He shook his head. “I wouldn't want child support from her. She doesn't work, so anything I would get would be from him. I refuse to let another man support my daughters.”

I could see the heat rising in Jason's face.

“I'd die before I did that.”

“I can't imagine what it's like to have your girls around another man.”

“I try not to think about it. Because of the way things ended with me and Latrice, I didn't get a chance to get to know him without hostility. I don't know what kind of man he is, except that he's the kind that steals another man's wife. What if I wake one day to the nightmare that this man has molested my daughters? I'd have to spend the rest of my life in jail.” Jason tightened his jaw and clenched his fists. “And it would be worth every day.

“And even if it's not that, every time they come home, they have something new and expensive. Stuff I can't afford and wouldn't buy even if I could. I'm afraid it's eroding their value system. I don't want them to end up like their mother. The guy seems to feel the need to make me feel small. It's not enough that he took my wife. He has to rub my face in it. With his money and flashy cars and crazy expensive gifts for my daughters. And comments about my finances that let me know Latrice has run me down to him like I'm some no-good somebody that didn't give her everything she wanted and needed. I'm a good man and did everything I could to provide a godly home for my family. But it wasn't good enough for her. I never saw the dollar signs in her eyes, I guess. Or maybe she changed over the years. I don't know.”

Jason seemed to be lost in thought, as if he forgot I was sitting there listening.

“And I can't blame her entirely. I guess maybe I was like that a little when we first got married. We were both all about chasing success and the American dream. But then I got saved. And she didn't. And my priorities changed. All of a sudden, my life was about seeking first the Kingdom. And she couldn't understand that. I guess more than anything, it was God that made us grow apart. Seems weird to even say that, but the Word says Jesus came not to bring peace, but a sword. Even in the most intimate family relationships. I guess that's what happened to us.”

Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to date Jason. He was a good father, valued being a good provider, and his first priority was the Kingdom. Sounded a lot like my list. Not to mention he was fine.

No, Michelle.
My heart was causing my mind to compromise. I needed to end this before Jason drew me in even deeper. I looked up at the clock. “Oh, my goodness. Is that right?”

Jason turned around to see the time. “Oh, no. I didn't realize we had been there this long.”

It was after eleven. I packed up my laptop, and Jason helped me carry everything back to my office. When we had put everything away, he helped me put on my coat and waited until I had gathered all my things.

“Jason, thanks again for all your help tonight. Like I said, when I get promoted to senior producer, I'll owe you big.”

He waved away my gratitude. “My pleasure. It's fun working with you, and it helped me keep my mind off the girls. For most of the evening, anyway.” He put a hand on my shoulder. “And thanks for listening. It's cool talking to you.”

I must have been blushing. “It was good talking to you, too, Jason.”

And just like on the church steps, I guess the moment had him feeling a little too friendly, and he reached out to hug me.

This time, instead of doing my board impression, I hugged him back. Big mistake. His thick chest, broad shoulders, and strong back were more than I could handle, and I wasn't anywhere near horny monster hormone day.

I heard a grating voice behind me. “Well, well, well, what have we here? Isn't this cozy?”

I whipped around to see Rayshawn standing in my doorway.

I
f I had to guess, from the black Lycra micro-skirt and lace-up hooker boots she was wearing, I'd say there was a pole out there somewhere with Rayshawn's name on it. More than her outfit, the smug I-caught-you look she wore, annoyed me.

“Rayshawn. Hey. What are you doing here?”

She looked me up and down with a condescending glare. “That's exactly what I was about to ask the two of you. I was on my way out for the evening and realized I left my wallet in my office and came back for it. What's your story?” Her raised eyebrow and tapping toe reminded me of my third grade math teacher, demanding an answer to the worst fraction problem.

“We were working on my show.” I tried not to sound defensive.

“Working. Is that what you call it?”

“Jason was about to walk me to my car.”

“Umm-hmm.” She smirked. “Jason, perhaps you'd like to wait for us in the lobby. I need to speak with Michelle for a second.”

Jason looked at me like he was afraid to leave me alone with Rayshawn. I gave him a slight nod to let him know I would be okay.

“She'll be fine, Jason. You act like you're afraid something will happen to her if you leave her alone with me. Don't worry, she'll be down in a moment without a scratch on her.” Rayshawn raked a long, claw-like nail across her chin.

After he left, Rayshawn sat her butt on the edge of my desk. “So what's going on between you and Jason? Is there something I should know about? Or, better still, that Ms. Carter should know about? No wonder you were so insistent on keeping him as your editor. I wonder if Ms. Carter had known, would she have assigned him to you? I guess we'll find out on Monday.”

She grinned, and my blood chilled.

“It'll be nice working with Jason again. He's the best editor in the place. And definitely the sexiest. After Ms. Carter finds out that you guys are kickin' it, I'll have him reassigned to my team. I'll enjoy working with him again. That is what you called it, right? Work?” She winked.

Ms. Carter had a strict, but unspoken policy on dating in the workplace. It was rumored that when she was coming up through the ranks as a producer, women made it to the top by sleeping around—being on the couch, as it was called. Because she wouldn't, she felt like she had been passed over for promotions and wasn't as far along as she could be in television. So she wanted to create a workplace where that wasn't an issue.

Whether that was true or not, I didn't want to take any chances. If I wanted to be a senior producer in her department, I needed to walk the straight and narrow.

“I'm not sure what you think you saw, Rayshawn, but there's nothing going on between me and Jason. We were here working on my shows, and he was giving me a hug before walking me to my car. You're welcome to let your imagination take it wherever you want, but you might want to think twice before you go making accusations to Ms. Carter.”

Forget being deferential and kissing her tail. Rayshawn wasn't going to back me up into a corner with her threats. God had my back, and if she wanted to cross me, she needed to understand what would happen if she decided to come up against God's girl.

“You got a lot of attitude for a promo producer. You need to remember who runs this place.”

I didn't know if she was referring to her clout as a senior producer, or if she was admitting to her rumored illicit affair with the station owner. I wasn't going to stand here and let her try to intimidate me.

I picked up my bag and started toward my door.

She stepped over to block me. “I don't know what you're up to, but I'm not about to let you push me out of my spot here. You need to stay out my way. And stay in your place.”

So, that was it. Rayshawn was concerned that any success I gained was failure for her. She thought I was after her position as a senior producer. I guess in a way I was, but I didn't understand why she thought it had to be me or her.

“Rayshawn, I'm just trying to do me. That ain't got nothing to do with you.” I was so tired of black folks and the crabs-in-the-barrel mentality.

She stared me down, and for a moment, I saw right through her. The nasty diva attitude, sleazy clothes, and arrogance were all fronts. I looked into her eyes and saw insecurity and fear. Made me pity her for a second. That was what I needed to get through this. To pity her rather than hate her. To find a weak spot I could pray for and that could allow me to love her in spite of.

“Oh, it has everything to do with me. You flash a pretty smile and wag your hips in front of Jason, and he takes a pay cut and switches over to your department. You redesign all our promos like what we had spent months developing wasn't good enough, trying to be all artistic and creative. Then you walk up in the pitch meeting with your oh-so-holy ideas trying to take my job. Playing all innocent and pure—manipulating the fact that Ms. Carter is a Christian and that she thinks this should be TBN instead of BTV.” Rayshawn spat those last words like I made her sick. “I have worked too hard to get to where I am for you to come up in here and take it all away.”

I stood there, unable to speak.

She stepped close to me and lowered her voice. “What you need to do is get a perm and some decent clothes instead of looking like a hippie reject from the sixties. You need to keep your holy-roller ideas to yourself, reverse whatever spell you cast on Jason and”—She lifted a finger and jabbed me in the chest—“stay—in—your—place.” A jab for every word.

Just as I was about to grab her finger to snap it in two, I swear I felt the Holy Spirit grab my hand. Just as I was about to cuss her out, the Holy Spirit froze my tongue. He opened my eyes and peeled back her mask and showed me who Rayshawn really was.

I looked at the thick layers of makeup on her face, covering up old teenage acne scars and probably years of adolescent teasing. I looked at the short hoochie skirt, revealing too much of her skinny colt legs that extended up to her waist without forming hips. Her plunging neckline ended at a push-up bra, trying to make cleavage out of nothing. The beebees lined up at the back of her neck made me wonder what was beneath her bob-length wig. One would have to work hard to call her pretty.

I looked at this girl and realized she'd probably had it hard. I wondered if she'd ever been in a good relationship with a guy. Had she been rejected by so many men that she felt like she had to control them with sex? Use them to get what she wanted out of life? She probably took Jason's asking to be switched to my team personally. Like he was rejecting her like every other guy. Didn't matter to her that he was married at the time. Or that now, even though he was single, he was a Christian and only interested in a godly woman.

And maybe she wasn't confident enough in her skills as a producer and felt like she had to control and manipulate to get to the top. Like she couldn't be successful without destroying everyone around her.

Once again, I tried to walk past Rayshawn.

She stepped in front of me again. “You act like you don't hear me. So I'm gonna spell it out for you. On Monday, you're gonna tell Ms. Carter you feel two shows is too much and you want to work with Mark and not me. You're gonna tell her that you and Jason are having creative differences and that you want him reassigned to my team. And at the pitch meeting for the spring lineup, you're not gonna come up with any brilliant ideas. Is that understood?”

I guess she took my silence for weakness. Because I didn't break her finger, snatch off her wig and beat her down with a good, ghetto-girl, snatch-off-the-earrings-and-put-on-some-Vaseline beating, she thought her intimidation was working.

“No. It's not,” I said.

“You don't seem to understand that I can make your life miserable around here. And if you piss me off too much, I can make sure that you don't have a job here at all. You would not want to cross me the wrong way.”

I shrugged and stared at her.

She appeared unraveled that her usual tactics weren't working on me. “What is your problem?”

I guess she couldn't understand why I wasn't screaming or cussing at her, or crumbling in tears like I had seen her production assistants do. She stared at me, not so much angry, but more so puzzled.

“I don't get what you're after.”

I let out a deep, exhausted breath. “Nothing, Rayshawn. I want to do my job and do it well. I want to learn as much as I can from you and everyone else here and produce good television. You're the best producer the station has. You have nothing to worry about.”

I guess that was enough to appease her. This time when I started toward the door, she let me pass. She stood there for a second, and instead of walking off like I planned, I waited for her to walk out, so I could lock up. Didn't need to give her access to my laptop or anything else in my office.

She turned and gave me one last glare, more defeated than evil. She left, and I closed and locked my office door. I leaned against the door for a minute, giving her ample time to leave.

When I was sure she was completely gone, I walked slowly to my car.

I knew I was going to have to stay prayed up to deal with Rayshawn. I needed to war against all those spirits tormenting her and working through her to torment everyone else around her. I needed His wisdom and strategies for how to deal with her without letting her walk all over me. But most of all, I needed the Holy Ghost to help me to continue to keep my attitude in check. Because if she put her hands on me again, He was gonna have to step aside so I could give her the beat-down she deserved.

One thing was for sure. I needed to keep things on the low with Jason. He seemed to be a sore spot with her that I didn't need to be poking. I needed to focus on my shows and go back to keeping things strictly professional with him. No more late-night conversations revealing our deepest pains, hopes and fears.

Even though he was perfect—everything on my list and more—Jason Hampton was going to have to be unavailable.