Ebony Angel Page 13

  Her mood darkened. The interview had gone off without a hitch. The employees seemed friendly, and she was offered a dream job. Darryl was a tad bit anxious, but nice. Yet something didn’t sit right with her. “I should know in a week or so.”

  She took the card. Then it hit her. This was the first time Trae wouldn’t be a part of her decision process. Jessica was correct when she said Trae was a control freak. That was the reason Ebony didn’t tell him about the interview. It was her way of secretly rebelling. Rebelling? If you did something to defy someone and he didn’t know about it, did the act still qualify as rebellion? She placed the business card in her wallet. Yes.

  She had reexamined her relationship with Trae after her last argument with Jessica. Over the years Trae had invaded every part of her life, and had finally taken over.

  Before her argument with Jessica, she would have sworn she was a strong, independent woman, but when she really thought about it—was honest with herself—she even needed Trae’s permission to pursue a relationship with Richard. She sighed inwardly, thinking she had allowed Trae to run her life and now was uncomfortable when the decisions were actually hers.

  Darryl stood. “There’s no rush, Ebony.” Everyone in the company was on a first-name basis. He’d asked her to do the same. He swiped his hand on his pants, then held it out. “Nice meeting you.”

  She shook his hand. “The pleasure was all mine.” A new day had dawned. From this day forward, she planned to control her life.

  “If you change your mind about Friday, just give me a call. No pressure.” A nervous smile tipped his lips. The wrinkles on his forehead deepened. “Not much, anyway.” He showed her out.

  * * *

  Darryl took a few minutes to compose himself. He needed Ebony to accept the position. He stared out the window at the office building across the street. He would do anything for his son, but this? He buried his feelings of guilt. Everyone would win, he reassured himself.

  The shrill ring of the phone sent a chill along his spine. He chewed what was left of his thumbnail. The phone stopped ringing. He could breathe clearly again. He sat at his desk and scrolled through the caller ID when his cell phone rang. The last call had been blocked.

  “Hello.” He loosened his collar, wiped the sweat from his brow. Avoidance would make things worse he told himself.

  “Why didn’t you pick up the damn phone?” came a deep, harsh voice over the line. “Ebony left five minutes ago. Did she accept the job?”

  He smoothed his hands over his balding head. The rumors that Trae knew Ebony’s every move were obviously true. “I’m sorry, Trae, but she asked for more time. We’re a small firm. Candidates of her caliber tend to want to work for large corporations.”

  “What if you upped the pay another ten grand? No, make that fifteen.”

  He sorted through his desk drawer for his ulcer medicine. “I don’t own the company. My partner will object, and so will the other employees.” He propped the phone between his shoulder and ear, then twisted the top off the medication. “I don’t know how I would cover that much money up. The most I could allow is another grand or two toward the sign-on bonus.” He chugged down the thick white liquid.

  Darryl thought about his son’s drug addiction. Trae had promised to stop his flow of heroin in exchange for hiring Ebony. When he agreed to the deal, he hadn’t realized Ebony was actually a viable candidate. Any corporation in its right mind would snatch her up, leaving him with an angry drug dealer.

  “Was her only problem with your firm its size?”

  “Yes. I took her on a tour. She loved everything. I even invited her on a business dinner this Friday. We never take associates on business dinners.”

  “What should she wear?”

  “Anything from business to after five will be fine. I want her comfortable.”

  “I guess you’ve done all you can.”

  Relieved, yet confused by Trae’s calm reaction, Darryl asked, “Is there anything you’d like me to mention at the dinner?”

  “Nah, I got this. You did your part. I’ll convince her to take the job with you.”

  “About my son, he’s in rehab now.”

  “I’ve got him covered. I put the word out. He can’t buy anything around here. Now on the south side, there are a few places I don’t have much pull.”

  “I understand. Thank you, Trae.” He couldn’t believe he had actually thanked the kind of man responsible for his son’s addiction.

  * * *

  Trae fought to rein in his anger. He had to stay in control. He disconnected, tossed the cordless phone over his shoulder, slouched in his recliner, then took in the flat. He had Ebony decorate it years ago in hopes she would change her mind and take him back.

  Everything was blinding white or crystal clear, from the carpet to the swirled, painted ceiling. He had so much darkness in his life that his apartment comforted him. It reminded him of the light at the end of the tunnel.

  After seeing how she decorated Richard’s place, his heart admitted what his head had been saying all along. He had lost Ebony.

  He snarled. She decorated his flat for him, and Richard’s condo for them. He pushed a magazine out of the way and grabbed his leather photo album. A giant red, black, and green imprint of Africa decorated its cover. Ebony added color to everything.

  She had given him the album for Christmas. At the time he wondered what the heck she was thinking, but lately he found consolation in the images. She had compiled pictures from when they were kids all the way through the previous fall.

  As he thumbed through the photos, he could tell when she fell out of love with him. In their early photos you could see the love in both of their eyes, then her inner light dimmed and a year of photos was missing.

  He kicked the coffee table over, cracking its glass top in the process. That year without Ebony was the worst of his life. He flipped the page to Ebony holding baby Crystal. Sparks flickered in Ebony’s eyes, but they were for Crystal, not Trae.

  He slammed the album closed. There had to be a way to convince her they belonged together. He wasn’t the same stupid kid, and could protect them as he always had. He kicked the table out of his way, then snatched up the Homes Magazine it covered.

  He had picked out a house for Richard and Ebony. He flipped to the page containing a 3500-square-foot ranch home he knew she would love. This should be our home.

  He flung the magazine across the room, hopped out of the recliner and flipped it over. “She is mine!” He grabbed the end table and threw it across the room into the stereo.

  The Bose system crashed to the floor. He kicked the magazine rack. It flew across the room, causing a huge dent in the wall. Rage consumed him. He wanted to tear the flat up as much as he was torn up inside. The next thing he knew, he was beating what was left of his flat-screen television with a bat.

  Skeet burst in with his gun drawn. “What the hell?”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Skeet lowered his Colt .45 semiautomatic. “Aw, hell naw!” He stomped into the flat, slamming the door behind him. “Don’t even think about asking for your security deposit back.” He stepped over broken lamps, glass and furniture.

  He pointed at the broken window. “Next time you throw a friggin’ trash can out the window, make sure the shit is open first. Damn!” He took off his coat and tossed it and his gun toward the one clear spot on the floor.

  Trae stood motionless. The rage in his eyes slowly dissipated. The awkward silence in the room was broken by his uncontrollable laughter.

  Skeet stalked up to him, glaring down. “You think this shit is funny? This is my building. Next time you go off, do it on your property.” He spun around and uprighted furniture. “From this day forward, I check references.”

  Still strangely amused, Trae trotted into the kitchen and returned with a broom, dustpan and garbage can. “We need to talk.”

  “The only thing I want to hear out of your mouth is what the hell set you off.” He picked glass out o
f the carpet.

  Trae gathered the torn pages of the magazine he had tossed all over the place. “I can’t do this.”

  “What? Clean? Toss that broom, man. We need to vacuum the carpet.”

  “I can’t give Ebony to Smoke.”

  Skeet dumped a handful of large glass pieces into the trash, then sat on the edge of the now-lopsided recliner. “The hell you can’t.”

  Trae settled on a clear spot on the floor, shaking his head. “I know I should, but I can’t.”

  “When you first told me you were stepping aside for Smoke, I thought you were crazy. But the more I think about it, you were right. Our lifestyle isn’t right for Ebony. I love Ebony and that little girl with all my heart. If something were to happen to them because of us…”

  “I can protect them. All I have to do is move them out of the hood.”

  “You can’t move away from our lifestyle. We’re drug dealers through and through, Trae.”

  “I’ve been thinking about getting out.” Still sitting on the floor with his legs drawn up, he lowered his head to his knees. “I love her. I can’t lose her.”

  “But she’s in love with Smoke.”

  “She’s just substituting him for me. She went out and found someone like me, except he’s legit. I’m what she wants.”

  He stared into Trae’s green eyes a long while. They were becoming more crazed with every second. “Your obsession with Ebony is going to get her killed.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but get some help, Trae.”

  “I’m not obsessed. She’s the one who went out and found a legit version of me.”

  Skeet laughed so hard he doubled over. “You are out your damn mind. Smoke is not like you. Humph. If he’s like anyone, I’d say he is most like Dan.” He leaned forward, driving in his point home. “You know, Ebony’s father figure? Dan raised Ebony until Marissa started trippin’.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “And you need to step the hell off. The only things you have in common with Smoke are you both play basketball and like to make money. You both being good fathers to Crystal is a given. You know Ebony would never allow a man into her life who wasn’t good to her child.” He stood and helped clean. “For once in your life, do the honorable thing. We’ve contributed to the ruin of too many lives. Don’t add Ebony to that number. She’s in love with Smoke. Back the hell off,” he commanded more than suggested.

  “Shit.” Trae kicked at the couch. “You’re right. It’s just hard.”

  Skeet held out his hand. “I got your back, man.”

  They did a quick brotha shake, hug, pat, release. “I can do this,” Trae said half-heartedly.

  * * *

  Richard stood at his hotel window, watching the busy New York streets below. He missed his girls. The prospect of being separated for days affected him more than he had imagined. He seriously considered canceling his plans for Friday to make up for lost time, but pushed the idea out of his head. He didn’t want Ebony to think him too needy.

  He tried to find everything he could out on Loren, but came up empty handed. Now that he had time for 20/20 hindsight, he should have actually bought the diamond from Skeet so he could have gotten more information. He sighed. He had told Ebony she was wrong for diverting drug money to help drug addicts, yet here he was saying he should have bought a diamond to enable a drug dealer to launder money. He pushed thoughts of the drug trade out of his mind and refocused on the conversation at hand.

  He propped the phone between his ear and shoulder, then closed the curtain. After his meeting, he had rushed to his hotel room to call Ebony. “…They offered you the position. I’m so proud of you, angel. I knew you could do it. What’s the name of the firm? I’ll check them out for you.”

  “Thanks, but it doesn’t matter. I’m not taking the offer. Think of how much a major corporation will offer.”

  He kicked off his slacks and unbuttoned his shirt. “Don’t follow the money. Follow whichever path leads to where you want to go. You want to own a consulting firm someday. If you like everything this company has to offer, stay with them. You don’t have to worry about money. I make enough to support us.”

  He tossed his shirt to the side. He was glad Ebony interviewed at a small minority-owned firm first, thinking they must have been more lenient and understanding about her nails and jewelry. Slowly changing her style would be his next project. He didn’t want her fashion sense to keep her from obtaining any job, or cause her to lose her own business customers. She could adorn herself however she wanted when at home, but business was a different story.

  “I know how much money you make. But what if you get hurt? I want to be able to support us if need be.”

  He lay on his hotel bed, dressed in his briefs and a T-shirt. “You want to take care of me?” His heart warmed and libido rose, along with other things. “Have I told you how much I love you lately?”

  “Not in the last five minutes.”

  “I wish you were here. I miss being inside of you.”

  “You are such a tease.”

  “Humph. I’m the one lying here with the hard on.”

  She laughed. “You are a mess.”

  “Subject change time. How’s my baby girl?”

  “She’s in school right now.”

  He glanced at his watch. “Oh, yeah, it’s only two there.”

  “Are you still going to the hockey game with Clark on Friday?”

  He hated lying to Ebony, but didn’t see an alternative. “Yes. If you want, I can cancel our plans and stay home with you. I’d rather make love with you any day.”

  “Oh, no. Please don’t. Go to the game with Clark. I don’t want to give him more reason to hate me. You’ll do this guys’ night out if I have to drive you there myself.”

  Something in her voice worried him. He shrugged it off, thinking he was probably projecting his own feelings of guilt. “Clark likes you. He just hasn’t found someone to spend time with.”

  “Liar. He’s as bad as Jessica. Maybe we should hook the two of them up.”

  Richard’s deep belly laugh filled the hotel room. “Now that would be something!”

  She giggled. “Yeah, I thought you’d like that.”

  “What are you wearing?”

  “Oh, lawd, he’s slipped into phone sex.”

  He heard banging over the line. Panic caused his heartbeat to surge. He hopped up. “What’s that?”

  “Stop, Skeet! I’m gonna tell Mom. Go away!”

  He relaxed slightly. Worrying about Ebony and Crystal had become a full-time job. Between the neighborhood, Trae’s profession, and her riding the train, he found little peace of mind. This weekend, things would change.

  “Sorry about that. Knocking at the door like he had half a brain is too difficult for Skeet to comprehend.”

  “Did you let him in?”

  “He has a key. He bangs because he’s an attention hog.”

  “Why don’t you stay at my place?”

  “Trying to rush things, huh? Saturday’s only a few days away. Hi Skeet, Trae.”

  “I worry about you. Did you drive to your interview?”

  “Yes, I drove that gas guzzling monstrosity. And do you know how much it cost to park downtown? Now those prices should be illegal.”

  “Promise me you’ll drive or have someone take you to school tomorrow. I don’t like you on the train so early and late.”

  “I’ll have Skeet drive me.” He heard a loud pop sound. “Stop, Skeet. Can’t you see I’m on the phone! Dang.”

  He grinned. Skeet and Ebony had the type of relationship a brother should have with his sisters. “Maybe I’d better let you go. I’ll call later. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Richard disconnected. His older sister Gail lived in Chicago. They were only three years apart in age, but a world apart in every other aspect of life. Nonno thought Richard should call her, but Richard refused. He was the new one in town, not her.

  He
dialed his parents’ number.

  “Hello, Dubois residence,” an unfamiliar female voice answered.

  “Hello, this is Smo…Richard. Are my parents in?”

  “One second, sir.”

  Richard leaned against the headboard. He was so proud of Ebony and felt blessed she returned his love. He longed to brag about his fiancée, but knew his family wouldn’t give her a chance or appreciate how great she truly was. After all, anyone he picked wouldn’t be acceptable.

  “Richard, is it really you?” Stephanie asked.

  “Yes, Mother. How have you been?”

  “It’s been months. I’ve been worried out of my mind. Why didn’t you call sooner?”

  “You have my number. If you were worried, you could have phoned,” he said matter-of-factly. “And you know I speak with Nonno daily.”

  “So why can’t you speak with your mother at least every few weeks?” came her clipped tones over the line.

  “I don’t know. Maybe because when I do call, instead of asking me how I’m doing, all I get is heartache.”

  Silence.

  “I’m sorry,” Richard said. “I didn’t mean to be so abrupt. It’s been a long day. I’m in New York. I can see the Statue of Liberty from my room.”

  She sighed. “No, Richard. I’m sorry. You’re my baby. My only son. I worry about you.” An uncomfortable pause filled the line. “So you’re following my advice and moving to New York,” she said gleefully.

  “I’m afraid not. I’m here on business. I was supposed to leave Friday morning, but I want to finish by tomorrow. I’m ready to go home.” Thoughts of waking Ebony up with feather kisses along her inner thigh had him ready to catch the next flight.

  “You should reconsider this move to Chicago. You need your father’s connections to succeed…”

  Ice-cold water thrown on his daydream, he snapped, “Mother, please stop. I can stand on my own two feet.”

  “Of course you can, darling.”

  He slumped on the bed, holding his pillow against his chest. He hated the condescending tone her voice took on. He’d rather hear the pissed, clipped tones any day. “I called to tell you I’m in love and getting married. When she has a free weekend, I’m bringing her down to Texas to meet you.”