Ebony Angel Page 3

“What have you done?” Richard snapped, scrolling through the numbers.

  “I’m saving you from yourself.”

  Richard stood quickly and grabbed Clark by the collar. “I suggest you get out of my office before I kick the tar out of you.” He pushed him away. “You better pray she has a listed number.”

  Straightening his suit, Clark retreated to the opposite side of the office. “Can you take her to business dinners? Okay, so I shouldn’t have erased the number. We’ve worked to hard for this. Keep her on the side. Or, if you must have a black woman, find one who comes a hell of a lot closer to fitting into corporate America.”

  “Goodbye, Clark.” He sat at his oak desk. “If you ever cross me again, you’re fired. Close the door on your way out.”

  Clark stood in the doorway, glaring at Richard, then left.

  Richard hit speed dial on the speakerphone.

  Nonno’s deep voice and thick Italian accent filled the office. “Boy, why you keep calling me? I’m trying to get a woman of my own. What do you want?”

  Richard drew his jittery hands through his wavy, black hair. “I’m so angry, my hands are actually shaking.”

  “What happened?”

  Richard related his argument with Clark.

  “I’ve never known you to care one iota about these women. This girl must be the one. You get your butt on that train every morning until you find her if the number isn’t listed.”

  A smile replaced the frown on Richard’s face. His grandfather always cheered him up. “You’re a hopeless romantic.”

  “I’m not romantic; I’m Italian. You want me to call some of my people and have Clark taken care of?” Nonno joked.

  Richard laughed at the offer. “Okay, Nonno. We won’t be putting any hits out on people, yet.”

  “Times have changed for the better. Follow your heart.”

  Richard leaned back in his chair. “I don’t know how this happened. There’s just something about her that goes beyond the superficial. We connected. I saw it in her eyes. I feel it in my heart. She’s smart, funny, drop-dead gorgeous, knows when to be serious, has a kind heart…”

  Nonno chuckled. “Sounds like you’ve got it bad. You’re the romantic.”

  “I’m not romantic; I’m Italian.”

  “I liked her, too. It’s about time we shook the family up a little.”

  “What are you talking about? Shake up the family?”

  “Don’t mind your grandpapà. I’m old and talking out of my head.”

  Richard reached for the picture of his grandfather setting on his desk. “You’re a troublemaker.”

  “And you take after me. Find Ebony.”

  “I will.”

  * * *

  Richard disconnected his call to the taxi company, dropped the cell phone into his coat pocket and stared at the now-empty space in which he had parked his car. “I can’t believe this.” Someone had stolen his car.

  The few people out in the bitter cold seemed amused by his situation. He tugged his hat over his ears, scarf over his nose, flipped up his coat collar, jammed his hands into his pockets and hurried down the street toward the food shop where he told the taxi to meet him. AAA had left a message that they had changed the tires of his car so it was ready. He chastised himself for not leaving immediately to pick up it up.

  He had caught up on work, then taken the train from the south side in hopes of bumping into Ebony. He knew his chances were slim to none, but he had to give it a try.

  “Y-you g-got twenty-five cents?” asked a scrawny, bearded man wearing holey gloves and a worn-out bomber jacket.

  Wondering what one could buy with a quarter besides a gumball, Richard felt around his pocket for loose change, then handed the coins to the man. “This is all I have,” he lied.

  The man squinted. “Y-you got a sm-smoke?”

  “I don’t smoke.” He stepped around the man and continued walking. When he told Nonno Ebony had an unlisted number, Nonno jokingly told him to scour the neighborhood yelling her name. Thinking Ebony had Nonno pegged when she said he was a mess, he smiled.

  He entered the packed submarine-sandwich shop and stood at the window, looking out. Ignoring his growling stomach, he concentrated on warming up and praying for a taxi to get there quickly.

  Forty-five minutes passed, and no taxi. He called a different taxi service. This one guaranteed it would be there within ten minutes. A half-hour later, still no taxi.

  His spirits lifted when he spotted a charcoal parka with fur trim around the hood heading for the sub shop.

  He backed into a corner behind several people. Ebony entered the shop and stood in line. It was a little past nine. They both had had a long day. After she placed her order, she turned as if she sensed him there.

  “Richard.” Her face lit up, warming him with her smile. “Are you stalking me?” She weaved her way through customers to reach him.

  “The thought crossed my mind.” He took her book bag. “This thing is getting heavier.”

  She flexed a muscle that was hidden by the bulk of her parka. “I can handle it. Couldn’t resist our cuisine, huh?”

  “Well, actually…” he explained that his car had been stolen, and that he was waiting for a taxi to take him to the police station.

  Her face blank, she asked, “You’re joking, right?”

  “Six seven three,” called the cashier.

  “Wait a second.” She paid for her sub, then pulled Richard outside. “Come with me.” Disgust had hardened her voice. “I can’t believe the cops told you to call a taxi. You’ll be waiting the rest of your life, and then some.”

  “I was starting to think the same thing.” He held his coat closed tightly, hoping to buffer the full force of the bitter chill.

  “Hey, Stam.” She ran across the street, said something to a scrawny man coming out of the convenience store, then trotted back to Richard.

  Richard strained to get a better view of the man. It was the same man he had given the change to. “Who’s that?”

  “I asked him for help. Let’s get to the house. I live on the other side of the park, several blocks away.” She pointed at his shoes. “I think we should walk around instead of cutting through the park. Less snow.”

  “If my feet could speak, they would thank you.” His handcrafted leather shoes were beyond repair thanks to the salt, slush and scuffs. He was worried about what was inside the shoes. He had lost feeling in his toes on his walk to the sub shop.

  They walked briskly, not speaking until they reached her two-flat. “Here at last. Meechie, come here a second.” She motioned for the lookout to come across the street.

  Richard stood in the shoveled parking space with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Why isn’t there any furniture or appliances to save this spot?”

  “This is Mom’s spot. No one will park here.”

  “Who dis?” Meechie asked. “He work for Dan?”

  “Nah, this is my friend Richard. Richard, this is Meechie. Have you seen anyone cruising the neighborhood in a silver Mercedes?”

  “No. I ain’t seen no Mercedes. I saw a silver beamer a bit ago.”

  “If you see anything, let me know.” She looped her arm around Richard’s and led him up the porch stairs. “Go inside, Meechie.”

  He sauntered across the street. “I just came out a few minutes ago. Carry your butt in the house an’ let me makes my money.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She took out her key.

  “I’m not trying to down your friend, but Meechie looked like crap.”

  “Talk about understatements. He’s a crackhead from way back. I dropped a few flyers in his place about a rehab on the north side. He needs to get away from the west side to have a chance at staying clean. He knows too many people around here.”

  He followed her up the inside stairway and into the flat. A half wall, which had been converted into a bar, separated the kitchen from the dining and living rooms. The wood-paneled walls and earth tones of the furniture gave
the flat a homey feeling. He could see that one of the bedrooms led off the dining room. He assumed a second bedroom led off the kitchen.

  “This is a nice place. Awfully clean. Are you sure a child lives here?”

  “I’m pretty sure. We all have a bit of neat freak in us. Hand me your coat, and put your shoes on the rack.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at Ebony and overheated instantly. Her jeans and yellow sweater outlined every curve. If he hadn’t been afraid her daughter would walk in, he would have asked for a tour of her bedroom.

  “You have the cutest grin.”

  Pushing his thoughts aside, he flushed. “I didn’t realize I was smiling.” He took off his coat and shoes. His toes were killing him, which was an improvement from no feeling at all.

  “Make yourself comfortable. The remotes are on the end table.” She took the cordless phone off the bar.

  “Where’s your daughter?”

  “Mom took her grocery shopping. They’ll be back pretty soon.” She dialed, then held the phone to her ear. “I’ll have us something to eat in thirty seconds.” She headed into the kitchen with her sub and the phone. He followed.

  “Hey, Dan. I need some help.” She propped the phone between her ear and shoulder and took two plates out of the cabinet.

  Richard leaned against the counter. The burnt orange wallpaper extended the warmth from the front of the house into the kitchen. He spied a second bedroom on the opposite side of the refrigerator. He sat at the kitchen table, telling himself to be a good boy. Her child would be home soon, and he didn’t want to chase Ebony off.

  “My friend’s Mercedes was stolen off Long today, and some jerk-off cop had the nerve to tell him to take a taxi to the station to file a report.”

  She cut the sandwich in half. “I brought him home with me. Can you do something?…I already asked Stam…Thanks, Dan.” She disconnected, then opened the refrigerator and grabbed the lonely can of cream soda.

  “We’ll have to share.” She closed the refrigerator, handed him the soda, then set two plates on the table. “It’s not much, but until Mom gets back, it’s the best I can do. My uncle is sending a cop.” She set the phone on the table.

  He pulled out her chair. “It’s more than enough. Is your uncle a cop?” He politely pushed the chair in as she sat. “Meechie thought I worked for him. You’ll have to add that to your list of why a white guy would be in the neighborhood.” He took his seat.

  “Got jokes, huh. Let’s say the blessing. I haven’t eaten all day.” She bowed her head in prayer.

  “Mama!” Crystal yelled as she burst into the flat.

  “Girl, you scared me to death.” She hugged her daughter.

  Crystal jumped up and down. “Can I go to Auntie Genevieve’s and spend the night? Please, please, please. I don’t have school.”

  “It seems like you all have more in-service days than school days lately. And there’s someone else in the room, Crystal.” She motioned toward Richard.

  The child looked over her shoulder, reddened and covered her mouth with her hands. “I’m sorry.” She turned fully and curtsied. “Hello, I’m Crystal Washington.” She held out her tiny hand.

  Crystal’s charm doused the shock Richard felt when he saw the child. Unlike Ebony, Crystal had the same olive complexion as his. People would think she was his child before Ebony’s. She also seemed short for a seven-year-old. He shook her hand and bowed his head slightly. “I’m Richard Pacini. Pleased to meet you.” His eyes traveled from the child’s crystal-clear blue eyes to Ebony’s sexy sepia eyes.

  “The pleasure is all mine.” She spun around. “Can I go to Auntie Genevieve’s now?”

  “Go pack a bag.” Ebony smiled with pride as her child trotted off, frizzy, sandy-brown ponytail bouncing.

  He waited until Crystal was out of earshot, then asked, “How did you have such a light-skinned child?”

  “I love your directness. More people need to be like that.”

  “It works for me.”

  Ebony’s mother, Marissa, entered the flat with a bag of groceries before Ebony could answer. “Hello, sweetie. How was your day?” She asked, then noticed Richard. “Sorry, I didn’t see you sitting there.”

  Ebony made the introductions. Richard saw the family resemblance immediately. Both women had exquisite dark-brown eyes, high cheekbones, oval-shaped faces; both were tall and slender, yet curvaceous, and both had horrible taste in hair color. Marissa sported burgundy twists that reached her shoulders. He figured Ebony must have her father’s complexion, because her mother’s was a creamy caramel. He smiled, thinking he preferred dark chocolate any day.

  “I’ll put away the groceries.” Ebony took the bag from her mother. “Would you please go call Oscar? I promised you would call today.”

  “I’m not sure I’m ready to start dating again.” She cut a small portion off Ebony’s sandwich.

  “I love you, Mom, but Dad’s been dead well over ten years. I think it’s time for you to test the waters.”

  Richard was amazed she spoke about such personal things in front of him. His family didn’t talk about personal things in front of each other, let alone strangers. Ebony’s mother didn’t miss a beat.

  “I’m too old to start dating again.”

  “Nonsense. You’re beautiful and full of life. Isn’t she, Richard?”

  “Most definitely. If I weren’t chasing after your daughter, I’d be after you.”

  Marissa flushed, giggling. “I like him. Nice meeting you, Richard.” She nodded on her way to her room.

  “You, too.” Relief washed over Richard; he had passed the Mom test. After seeing Crystal and Marissa’s unconcerned reaction to him, he suspected he wasn’t Ebony’s first white date.

  The sound of the front door slamming against the inside wall startled Ebony and Richard. He spun around quickly, ready to protect Ebony. Two tall black men stepped through the door looking as if they had just come from a photo shoot for Thugs ‘R Us.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Richard stood in front of Ebony, quickly assessing the situation.

  “Trae, Skeet!” Marissa chastised as she stormed out of her room. “How many times I gotta tell you not to kick my damn door? Do it again,” she warned, “and I’ll cut your braids off.” She returned to her bedroom, shutting the door.

  “Mom’s gonna kick y’all’s tails for abusing her door.”

  Richard relaxed slightly but continued watching the two men carefully: They were both tall, had intricate cornrows, looked as if they had seen their share of street wars, wore baggy jean outfits and had parkas similar to Ebony’s. The taller one had broad shoulders, and his complexion matched Ebony’s. The one Richard’s height had a much lighter complexion.

  They set the bags they carried on the counter next to the kitchen sink. Ebony made introductions and went to put away the groceries.

  Trae appraised Richard from head to toe. “That’s a sharp Valenti. I have a few of his suits. You work for Dan?”

  “Leave him alone, Trae,” Ebony warned before Richard could speak. “He’s my friend.”

  Skeet’s low-rumble laugh filled the room. “Looks like baby girl here wants to explore her options.” He took a banana, and her portion of the submarine sandwich. “You didn’t want this, did you?” He ignored her murderous glare and bit into the sandwich.

  Though they were the same height and size, Richard felt slightly intimidated by Trae. He shook it off.

  Crystal ran into the room and hopped into Trae’s arms, breaking the tension. She held his face between her small hands. “Baby needs a new pair of shoes.” She looked over at Skeet, winked, flipped in Trae’s arms and threw up her stockinged feet.

  “Dang, girl.” Skeet chuckled, finishing the sandwich. “I told you to use that line when I’m not around. Come here.” He held his arms out for her.

  “I forgot.” She clung to Skeet, taking his banana in the process. “Will you ride me to Auntie Genevieve’s? Mama said I could go.”

 
“Go get your bag.” He set her on the floor. “I’ll catch y’all later. Can you braid my hair tomorrow, Ebony?”

  “I just braided it Saturday, Skeet. I’m back in school now.”

  He pulled her over to him. “You don’t have class on Tuesdays. You have time to fix my hair.”

  “Tuesday and Thursday are my study days.” She took the coffee out of the sack and placed it on the counter.

  “You only been in class two weeks. You can’t have that much to do. Hell, you even wrote that thesis junk before the semester started.”

  Hands on her hips, she reminded him, “My GPA is 4.0. I’d like to keep it that way.”

  Ebony’s fire attracted Richard. He liked a woman who wasn’t afraid to stand up for herself. He looked at Trae, who was still sizing him up. He hadn’t noticed his green eyes before.

  “So you gonna have a brotha walkin’ around with frizzy braids. You ain’t right.”

  “My braids stay longer than three days. I’ll hook you up on Saturday, or you can have someone else do it.”

  “Stop talkin’ crazy. You know I don’t let anyone else touch my hair.” Crystal ran out of the bedroom. “Dang, girl. Do you eva walk?” He took her bag, picked the child up and hugged Ebony. “Saturday.”

  He tapped fists with Trae, then nodded at Richard. “Catch you later, Smoke.”

  Richard frowned. He liked Skeet instantly, but didn’t understand why he called him Smoke. “Catch you later, Skeet.”

  Trae stood at the counter, watching Ebony put away the groceries. He and Richard both smiled when she bent to open the fruit tray at the bottom of the refrigerator. Richard, sitting at the kitchen table, had a better view.

  As if reading Richard’s mind, Trae stepped forward, obstructing his view. “If you don’t work for Dan, where did you meet Ebony? We don’t see people,” he paused, “dressed like you around these parts very often.”

  Richard examined his designer tie, white dress shirt and dark gray Leonardo Valenti trousers. He had already taken off his suit jacket. “Dan’s not a cop, is he?”

  Trae laughed. “Hell naw! He’s allergic to ’em.”

  “We met on the train this morning,” Richard answered.