The Deal, the Dance, and the Devil, page 30
The door to the conference room swung open, and I jumped a bit, startled.
A gray-haired dude entered; then, as if he was presenting royalty, he moved to the side and pushed the door so that it would open wider.
Shay-Shaunté slinked in, sauntering toward us in an emerald-green, turtleneck, knee-length knit dress that hugged her so snugly she couldn’t help but take small steps. The pattern on the dress—scales—was straight couture and gave the appearance of a long, lean snake. Her satiny hair was pulled back in a slick ponytail; she was ready for any Paris runway.
I snuggled into my coat, wrapping it tightly around me, hiding my jean outfit that had looked so chic at home.
But then I looked up and caught Adam’s gaze. His eyes were on Shay-Shaunté and my stomach cramped.
This was the first time Adam was seeing her, at least as far as I knew. I hadn’t thought of this, wasn’t prepared.
I tensed. Held my breath. Studied their reactions.
Shay-Shaunté sashayed toward Adam with a smile.
He stared at her blankly.
She lifted her arms, expecting a hug, as if he was a friend.
He stepped back and extended his hand, as if she was a stranger.
She chuckled and wrapped her fingers around his.
He grunted his greeting and gave her no more than a two-second handshake.
She tried to hold him a little longer, but he snatched his hand away from her grasp.
She laughed, a little.
He frowned, a lot.
It was all a relief to me.
Until Shay-Shaunté pirouetted, now facing me. “Hello, Evia,” she said, all business, no smiles.
I nodded my hello. She introduced her attorney, Dexter Harrington, then motioned for us all to sit. Adam and I chose the other side of the table—side by side we faced our enemy.
It was Dexter who got the party started. “I understand that you”—he spoke directly to Adam, like the deal had been made with him alone—“would like to discuss the lawsuit.”
“Yes.” Adam reached for my hand and closed his fingers over mine, and I’d never been more grateful for his touch.
Shay-Shaunté’s eyes followed my husband’s hands. Then she glanced at me and her lips moved smoothly, easily into her signature smile.
It made me shudder.
Adam said, “We were surprised to get the lawsuit because there seemed to be a breach of contract on both sides—”
“Excuse me.” Shay-Shaunté waved her hand, and I noticed the jeweled bracelet on her wrist—a snake that twisted around from halfway up her arm to the base of her hand. On the end, in the place of eyes, were two huge diamonds. She said, “I fulfilled my part of the deal. I gave you five million dollars—”
“Less taxes,” Adam said.
She shrugged. “It is not my fault that you weren’t clear.”
Her attorney interjected, “I don’t think we’re here to rehash the situation. We’re here because my client is willing to discuss a settlement.”
Shay-Shaunté nodded.
“And we thank you for that,” Adam said.
I wanted to kick Adam under the table. We didn’t need to thank her for anything. But we did need to negotiate, so I said, “The only part of the contract that hasn’t been fulfilled is my continuing to work.”
“Until I found a replacement,” Shay-Shaunté said.
“Right. But since you’ve found someone, I’d be willing to make up for the time when you didn’t have the new assistant. I’d be willing to come back for three weeks—anywhere you want to use me in the company.”
Shay-Shaunté shook her head as if she was sorry. “I don’t think so, Evia. I can’t take the chance of hiring you back. You can’t be trusted to stay.”
“What are you talking about? You trusted me for six years, and it was only because you taunted me with the tax situation—”
“Not my fault.”
“And little comments about your weekend with my husband.”
“I can’t help that you’re sensitive.”
“And then you saying you were pregnant.”
She paused at that one. Took her eyes away from me and looked straight at Adam. “I never said that.”
“Whatever,” I said, my tone demanding that she turn back to me. And she did. “I would still be here if it wasn’t for you.”
She shrugged. “Whatever the reason … you quit. You forfeited the contract, and now I want that money back.”
The only thing that stopped me from climbing up and across the table was Adam squeezing my hand.
“I’d like to know if you have something in mind,” Adam said, taking over. “For a settlement. Something’s that’s fair to all of us.”
Dexter glanced at Shay-Shaunté and she nodded before she lowered her eyes. “We will drop the lawsuit for five million dollars, but my client believes that she deserves some of her money back.”
I inhaled. This was so not fair. Adam had done his part—which was worth far more than the half that she’d barely given us.
The attorney jotted something onto a piece of paper, folded it, then passed it to Adam. “Here is what my client is asking for.”
I leaned over close to Adam to see what she’d written on the paper: 1,575,859.04.
I gasped.
As Adam and I stared at the paper, the attorney continued, “Out of the five million that you received from my client, we feel it is more than fair and reasonable for you to return that amount to Ms. Shay-Shaunté.”
I couldn’t even bring my eyes up from that paper. That was exactly—less one dollar—what we had left. I shook my head and gathered my strength to face her.
“How did you …” The tap of Adam’s fingers against mine was my signal to stop. I did—but still I wanted to know how she knew.
Dexter continued, “If you decide to pursue the lawsuit, we would not only be seeking to get the entire five million back—”
“She never gave us five million!”
He continued over my protest, “—but we would be seeking reimbursement of all legal expenses as well. It could be quite costly for you.”
Adam had not yet raised his head; his eyes were still on that number that would wipe out our bank account. Slowly, he lifted his eyes and met Shay-Shaunté’s.
“We have a deal,” he said, not taking his eyes away from her.
She smiled. “That’s good.” Leaning forward, she spoke only to him. “I would’ve hated taking you to court,” she murmured. “Especially after the wonderful nights we shared.”
The scene played out in my mind—it would be a twelve-inch knife. I would stab her in the neck, sever her head. After all, isn’t that how you killed a snake?
Dexter cleared his throat. “I have the papers right here. We will expect the check, in certified funds, in a week.”
“You’ll have the check tomorrow,” Adam said.
Shay-Shaunté nodded as she signed the agreement with her standard signature—two giant cursive Ss.
Slowly, she slid the paper and her pen toward Adam. Still, he didn’t look away from her, not even when he pulled his own pen from his jacket. Finally, he broke his stare long enough to sign on the line next to his name.
Shay-Shaunté said, “Don’t you think you should read it first, Adam? We don’t want another misunderstanding like the tax issue.”
He said nothing until he’d signed his full name. “I don’t think we’ll have any more problems. You’ve taken everything that we have.”
He turned to pass the paper to me, but Shay-Shaunté stopped him.
“There’s no need for her to sign.” She spoke as if I wasn’t sitting there. “This time, the deal is between you and me.”
Leaving the papers right where they were, Adam took my hand, helping me stand.
Shay-Shaunté didn’t move. She said to Adam, “I’m sorry this didn’t turn out better for you.”
I couldn’t help it. I just had to have the last word. “Well, it worked out perfectly for you, didn’t it?”
Now her eyes were on me. “Oh, it did, Evia. It worked out better than you could ever imagine.” She took a deep breath that sounded like a hiss, licked her lips, and then did what she did best—she smiled.
I shook my head. Why hadn’t I just kept my mouth shut?
Chapter 62
SILENCE. THE QUIET THAT WAS BETWEEN us was like our fourth child. It was always there, and over the past weeks, we’d nurtured silence, allowed it to live, allowed it to grow.
Shay-Shaunté was the cause, and now it was all over. There was no need to let silence stay and separate us any longer; the deal, the dance, the devil … it was done.
Yes, we’d walked away with so much less than we’d planned, but the thing was, we’d still received a bit over a million dollars … no one could hate on that, right? And we still had everything that was important—Adam and I had each other and our children. Ruby was safe for months, most of our bills were paid in advance … and we owned our home. There was no way anyone could look at this and say that this had ended totally badly.
Still, when Adam pulled the car into our garage, shut off the engine, then sat, his eyes straight ahead, I knew I had to say it; I had to help him get to my way of thinking.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
Not looking at me, he nodded but didn’t say a word. He kept his eyes straight ahead, staring at the garage shelves. I needed more from him. I needed to hear his voice, needed to know what he was thinking.
So I explained, “I read this wrong, Adam. I’d known Shay-Shaunté for six years, and I just knew she would never go public with this.”
“I know Shay-Shaunté, too,” he said.
Well, I’d wanted to hear his voice, and now he’d spoken. I wondered, though, if he’d meant to hurt me with his words, because he had. The fifty hours he’d spent with her, talking to her, holding her, were far deeper than my six years. Or maybe it was just their connection … that man and woman thing that I would’ve never been able to compete with.
Would Adam always be connected to her?
I shook my head. I needed to leave the paranoia, the jealousy behind. There’d been no connection between them today.
Through my thoughts, Adam said, “I know her and I knew she would sue us. I tried to tell you that.”
“I know you did, and I’m sorry,” I apologized again, hoping that would make a difference.
Again, he nodded. Said nothing. Just stared straight ahead.
In the silence, I didn’t feel the anger toward me that Adam had carried these last weeks. Now he was holding on to something different—disgust, blame, judgment … I wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, I couldn’t let us fall back to the way we’d been. I couldn’t let Shay-Shaunté and the silence defeat us.
“The thing is, baby, this is over,” I said.
“Yes, it is.”
“And now we can put it behind us knowing that we did get something out of this.”
Slowly, he turned his head until his eyes were straight on mine. The question was as much in his face as in his words. “What did we get?”
“Our house,” I said because he needed to see that obvious piece of good news. “We didn’t walk away empty-handed; we have this house.”
For a moment, he gave me nothing more than a blank stare and I swore I heard the sound of crickets. Then he shook his head, opened his door, and jumped out of the SUV.
Quickly, I followed. “Adam, didn’t you hear what I said?”
He stopped so suddenly that I bumped right into him. “I heard you—the question really is, did you hear yourself?”
Now I was the one with the blank stare.
He said, “You think the fact that I gave up all that I believed in, all that I promised God, all that I promised you, my integrity, who I wanted to be as a man—you think all of that was worth a house?”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
“Come on, Evia. Would we do this all again—for this house?”
He waited, but I couldn’t think of a single word to say. So slowly, he turned and dragged himself into the house—the prize we’d won for Adam surrendering everything that he’d believed in.
Chapter 63
IT WAS OVER.
But it was not.
We were back to the way we were.
Not as the old Langstons. We were nowhere near the caring, trusting, loving people that we used to be. We were the new Langstons—Adam and me and Shay-Shaunté. Because even though the deal was done, she was still very much a part of our lives.
The day after we agreed on the settlement, Adam went to the bank and withdrew the money to return to Shay-Shaunté. I wanted to go with him, but when I followed him to the car, he turned around, as if surprised to see me.
“No, stay here. I need to do this alone,” he said.
I had no idea what that was about. Why would he want to go to the bank by himself … unless he planned to leave the bank and take the check to Shay-Shaunté personally. Unless he planned to use this as an opportunity to see her.
I asked him, “Why can’t I go with you?”
He heard my wariness—I know he did, because his eyes narrowed and he pressed his lips together. The old Adam would have soothed my suspicions, kidded with me and told me I was imagining things.
But this new man didn’t seem to care. He just said, “I’ll be back,” jumped into the SUV, and drove away.
All I could do was wait for him to return. I counted the minutes as I paced in our bedroom. The minutes turned into one hour. I called Adam’s cell. It rang four times, then went to his voice mail.
Then, two hours. I called again. Four rings. Voice mail.
Three hours and I moved my walking marathon into the living room. This time when I called Adam’s cell, it went straight to voice mail.
I was still standing, still walking when Adam came home, six hours after he’d left. In that time, so many images had jogged through my mind; I knew exactly what he’d done.
“Where’ve you been?” I screamed, meeting him at the door.
He looked at me as if I was pathetic. “I went to the office,” he said simply. “Remember? I have a job.”
I ignored his sarcasm. “I thought you weren’t starting until tomorrow.”
“I decided to go by today to pick up a few things—is that all right with you?”
I wanted to believe him, tried to believe him … but I couldn’t.
The days passed and my suspicions grew, mostly because of the silence that stayed between us … and because Shay-Shaunté had told me that she wanted my husband.
Every moment that Adam was out of the house, I wondered where he was, even though I knew he was at work. I wondered why he came home so late, even though this was his first week on his new job and he was planting the seeds to becoming one of the top executives. I wondered why he decided to go into the office that first weekend, even though that was so Adam Langston, just trying to get ahead of the game.
But even though one side of my brain gently assured me that Adam’s behavior was perfectly normal, the other side screamed, Shay-Shaunté.
I’d told Adam that we should put that deal behind us, but I was the one having trouble with that, though I had a very good reason. It had been more than a month since Adam had returned home and we had yet to unite as husband and wife—and it wasn’t because of me.
I told Adam, “Have you noticed, but we haven’t made love this year! You haven’t touched me since …”
His answer was always the same. “I’m just tired, Evia. We’ve been through a lot and there’s a lot on my mind.”
Oh … kay. When did that ever stop a man?
So, I had to ask myself, if Adam wasn’t with me, who was he with? It had to be someone—no man could go so long without sex.
I couldn’t keep my thoughts to myself. I had to ask him, “Is it Shay-Shaunté? Is she the reason you can’t be with me?”
He would shake his head and say, “Why do you keep asking me about her?” Then he would walk away.
It was the same conversation over and over.
I could’ve handled all of this much better if Adam had been angry—because I knew that no one could stay angry forever. But Adam wasn’t angry. What Adam carried now was regret. And regret was a simmering emotion that could keep you in a state of sorrow forever.
It didn’t help that I saw blame in Adam’s eyes every time he glanced at me and I felt despair in his arms whenever he hugged me.
There was a saving grace, though—our children. The upcoming party had them too excited to notice the strain in their home, and it kept Adam and me busy enough to push aside my growing distrust.
The party plans were all set—for the dinner, with all the adults, and then the after-party for just the teenagers.
While Adam worked at his new job, I put the finishing touches on the celebration, doing all that I could to lower expenses, now that Shay-Shaunté had taken our last million away. We’d already committed to the restaurant, and though the cost of the party frightened me, this was one place where Adam took the time to reassure me; he kept telling me that we’d be fine.
Still, I worked to lower every part of the budget—I changed the dinner menu from steak and lobster to chicken and rice, I told the live band that our plans had changed and hired a DJ instead.
Neither Adam nor I told the girls about the changes—I figured that in the excitement of the day, the menu and the music wouldn’t matter. But I didn’t want to wait to tell the girls about their cars—the cars that wouldn’t be coming.
Adam didn’t want to say a word; I was sure that he was still trying to figure out a way to get the twins the cars that we’d promised. But we had to build our savings; we had to make sure that we never ended up again in the place where we’d found ourselves with Shay-Shaunté.
The twins were going to have their party; everything else, they would just have to understand.
So, the night before the big day, we sat Alexa and Alana down after dinner, and Adam didn’t waste any time. “The party is going to be wonderful celebration. But … we’re gonna have to wait on those cars for a couple of weeks.”
