After Hours (5 page)

S
eventy-two hours after Payne had trashed her grandmother's apartment Adina called him. Punching in the numbers on the disposable cell phone, she waited for a break in the connection. She hadn't wanted to use her cell phone because she didn't want him to track her. Payne Jefferson may have lived in the projects, but his criminal network stretched far beyond its boundaries.

“Speak.” The single word was a whisper.

Her eyebrows lifted when hearing the unorthodox greeting. “You wanted me to call you.”

“I want to talk to you.”

“Isn't that why you gave me your number?” Adina countered.

“Bitch, you know I don't like phones.”

A wave of fire burned its way into her face. “Call me a bitch again and I'm going to hang up.” She still hadn't heard from Karla King and her mood swings vacillated from hope to rage, and when she'd gotten up earlier that morning it was to a haze of rage—that had made it difficult for her to draw a normal breath.

“You hang up on me and I'll do more than fuck up your grandmother's place.”

“Fuck with my grandmother and I swear I'll dime your ass out.” She hadn't lied to Payne. Fear and concern for Dora made her reckless
and
vindictive enough to give Payne up to the police, but only if she'd be able to cut a deal.

Payne laughed softly. “You know what they say about snitches.”

“Yeah, I know. Snitches get stitches,” Adina drawled recklessly. “I ain't scared of you, Payne.”

“I know you ain't, because you know too much about my business. We need a face-to-face. I want you to meet me in Jersey.” His tone had softened considerably.

Her heart leaped in her chest. Did he know where she was? Had someone seen her and reported back to him? “When and where in New Jersey?” she asked, praying it wasn't Atlantic City.

“Sunday. Twelve noon. Meet me near the grandstand at the Old Bridge Township Raceway in Englishtown. Do you know how to get there by yourself?”

“I'll find it.” She had gone there once with one of her marks to attend a car show.

Those were the last words she said, because Payne hung up on her. She didn't know why he wanted to see her but knew that if she didn't meet him, he would have his people hurt or kill her grandmother.

Adina understood Payne Jefferson better than anyone in the projects, with the possible exception of his mother. At thirty-seven, he stood five-three and weighed about one-twenty, and as a boy he'd been taunted relentlessly by the neighborhood children, who'd called him Tiny, Pee-Wee, Spud and Half-Pint. The taunting stopped after he'd hit a much larger boy with a baseball bat, opening his head like an overripe melon.

Although sixteen, he was tried as an adult and sentenced to five years in a minimum-security prison. After he was paroled, he came back to the projects, went into semi-seclusion and devised a master plan to exact revenge on every criminal who reminded him of the inmates who'd abused and shamed him to assuage their sexual perversions.

Although Adina had heard the rumors about Payne's celebrated temper, she'd found herself drawn to him because he was an older man. He liked her because, at five-two and one hundred three pounds, she complemented him physically. They were never seen together publicly because he always arranged for them to meet outside their Brooklyn neighborhood. Their relationship was advantageous to both because Payne got what he wanted and she got what she wanted without having to sleep with him.

She'd agreed to meet him at the raceway because it was a public place. There wasn't much he could do to her in front of hundreds of witnesses.

A
dina arrived at the Old Bridge Township Raceway forty-five minutes before she was scheduled to meet Payne. She ignored the curious and admiring stares from men as she made her way to the grandstand area.

It was mid-May, early-morning temperatures were already in the seventies and it'd taken hours for her to travel from Irvington to Englishtown on public transportation. If she'd continued to work for Payne, she wouldn't have hesitated to hire a driver. But the reality was that she wasn't working
and
she'd given away almost half her savings.

Her eyes hidden behind the lenses of a pair of oversize sunglasses, Adina scanned the crowd. A secret smile parted her lips when she noticed a man standing a few feet away, staring directly at her. He hadn't been there before.

With wide eyes she catalogued everything about him in one sweeping glance. The first thing she noticed was his hands: no rings and no telltale lighter band of flesh on his ring finger. The freckles on the backs of his hands matched those dotting the slightly flaring nostrils in a smooth, round redbone face. She lifted her eyebrows, her smile widening when he flashed a friendly smile. His light brown eyes were the same color as the receding sandy-brown hair he wore in a short, natural style.

Her admirer was average height with a stocky physique. The timepiece circling his wrist, the off-white silk shirt worn outside the waistband of a pair of beige linen slacks and imported Italian slip-ons silently communicated good taste and sophistication. Her gaze lingered briefly on his hands again before shifting to his thin-lipped smile. She saw him as an ordinary-looking, high-yellow brother.

“Hi.” Adina was hard-pressed not to laugh out loud when she saw his reaction to her throaty greeting. If the stranger thought she was coming on to him, then he was mistaken. She needed him as a witness just in case Payne decided he wanted to do more than “talk” to her.

Lancelot Haynes went completely still. Had he imagined that the exotic-looking woman had actually spoken to him because that's what he wanted? Or was he hearing voices? The first thing he'd noticed was her hair. Parted off-center, it fell in heavy waves down her back. He couldn't see all of her face behind the sunglasses, but what he saw he liked: a small straight nose and a full pouting mouth. His admiring gaze caressed her off-the-shoulder black-and-white striped top and black cropped pants that hugged every delicious curve of her petite body. A pair of three-inch black patent leather wedge sandals showed off her small feet and shapely legs.

“Hello,” he said, smiling and extending his hand. “Lance Haynes.”

Adina took his hand, finding it soft and comforting. It was apparent Lance Haynes used his head rather than his hands to earn his living. “Dina Gordon.”

There, she'd said it. She was no longer Adina Jenkins, and what she had to do was think of herself as Dina.

Lance moved closer, inhaling the sensual scent of her perfume. “Do you come here often?”

Dina shook her head. “No. This is only my second time.”

“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked. What he wanted to ask was whether she'd come alone or was waiting for someone.

“Yes, please.”

“What would you like?”

“A soft drink, please.”

“Are you certain you wouldn't like something a little stronger?”

Dina smiled, exhibiting a set of straight white teeth. “I'm very certain.”

Lance nodded. “I'll be right back.

She was still watching Lance's retreating back when she felt pressure on the nape of her neck. Payne had come up on her without making a sound. She let out a soft gasp as his fingers dug into the tender flesh; her hair concealed the savage grip holding her captive.

“No one runs out on Payne Jefferson,” he whispered in her ear.

“I couldn't—”

“I don't want to hear shit from you,” he rasped, cutting off her explanation. “Because you didn't complete our last deal, I'm going to let you off easy.”

The initial shock of Payne coming up behind her subsided, replaced by false bravado. “What do you want, PJ?” she drawled. She knew he hated being called PJ, but she was past caring about what he wanted. She wanted out and she'd do anything he asked to be rid of him.

“You owe me.”

“How much?” she asked.

“Twenty.”

Dina knew he hadn't meant twenty dollars. He wanted her to give him twenty thousand dollars. She would've had it if she hadn't given Karla King ten thousand dollars. “I don't have it.”

“That's your problem.” Payne knew men gave Adina money—lots of money.

“I need time.”

“How much?”

Dina saw Lance coming in their direction holding a plastic cup in each hand. “Give me until the Labor Day weekend. After that, we're through. I'm out, Payne.”

Payne noticed the man heading toward them. He let go of Adina's neck. “Okay. Three and a half months, bitch. Call me when you have it.” He shifted, facing Adina while pointing at her with his thumb and forefinger.

A momentary panic seized her when she recalled what she'd agreed to. How was she going to come up with twenty thousand dollars in three and a half months, short of robbing a bank? Even if she secured legitimate employment, there was no way she was going to earn that much money given her dearth of work experience.

“Are you all right?”

Lance's voice reached into her troubled thoughts as she turned to find him staring down at her. “No.”

A frown of concern creased his smooth forehead. “What's the matter, Dina?”

She took a step, took off her sunglasses, rested her forehead on his chest and dissolved into a paroxysm of tears. Her weeping tugged at something inside Lance. He couldn't comfort her because his hands were full. Confused by emotions he didn't want to feel, he lowered his head and pressed a kiss to Dina's fragrant hair.

“Talk to me, Dina.”

She eased back and lifted her chin, seeing an expression of shock replace the concern in Lance's eyes. “Just get me out of here.”

Bending slightly, he set the cups on the ground, reached for her hand and led her to the parking lot.

L
ance handed Dina his handkerchief after they were seated in his car. He felt as if he'd been punched in the gut when he saw her tear-filled eyes, eyes that reminded him of a lush rain forest, with shadowy hues of browns and greens. She was hurting, in pain, and where he was able to cope with most things, he failed when it came to a woman's tears.

Dina blotted the corners of her eyes with the square of cotton, taking care not to smudge her carefully applied liner and mascara. She wanted to look her best because she needed Lance Haynes—not for someone she could hustle but as a friend.

“Thank you, Lance” she said, delicately blowing her nose into his handkerchief. Placing a hand on the door handle, she gripped it. “I…I have to go now.” A deep sob choked her entreaty.

Lance panicked. Reaching over, he placed his hand over hers and stopped her from getting out of the car. “Where are you going?”

Dina affected a tortured expression when she turned to look at Lance. “I'm going home. Thanks for your help.”

He faltered in the silence that filled the car. He didn't want Dina to leave. There was something about her that was different from the other women he'd known. She wasn't a child, but there was something childlike in her he couldn't resist. The fact that he knew nothing about her was of no importance, because he wanted to get to know her.

Lance forced a smile. “I did nothing, Dina.”

Her moist lashes fluttered. “You helped me more than you know. Please let me go.”

It was with great reluctance that he nodded. “Where did you park your car?”

“I don't have a car.”

“How did you get here?”

“I took public transportation.”

Vertical lines appeared between Lance's eyes. “Where do you live?”

“Irvington.”

“You came all the way from Irvington by public transportation?”

A slow smile found its way over Dina's lips when she saw his shocked expression. “Why do you make it sound as if I'd walked across Death Valley in the middle of the summer?” A rush of color darkened Lance's face with her backhanded retort, she finding it endearing. “You're a snob, Lance Haynes.”

His blush deepened. “No, I'm not! And why would you say that?”

“When was the last time you took public transportation?”

An expression of surprise froze his features. “I…I don't remember.”

Dina pointed a finger at him. “See. I was right. You are a snob.” She angled her head. “You're finicky and very particular about where you eat or sleep. You're probably so obsessive that you check out a chair before you sit down.”

Lance didn't confirm or deny her assessment of him. “What about restaurants?”

She blinked once. “You only dine in the best restaurants.”

He lifted a light brown eyebrow. “You think?”

Dina nodded. “I know.”

His gaze beamed approval. Dina Gordon was a good judge of character. “If you say I helped you, then I want you to help me.”

“Help you how?” She wasn't clairvoyant, but she could predict the words that would come out of Lance's mouth. He wanted to drive her back to Irvington.

“Let me drive you back to Irvington.”

She gave herself a mental check. “What's the catch?”

“Why does there have to be a catch, Dina?”

“I've been told that men who offer to do something for a woman usually want something in return.”

“Who told you that?”

“My grandmother.”

“Well, your grandmother's wrong, because I won't ask for anything in return except dinner.”

Her luminous eyes grew larger. “You want me to cook dinner for you?”

“No. I want you to share dinner with me at a
restaurant.
”

“Are you sure that's all you want?”

Nodding slowly, Lance glanced down the handkerchief clutched in her hand. Dina was afraid of him, and he wondered whether her fear had anything to do with the man who'd left quickly when he'd returned with her soft drink.

“You don't trust men, do you?”

“No.”

“Has a man ever hurt you?”

“No, but I've seen what they've done to other women.”

Stretching out his right arm, he rested it over the back of her seat. “You're judging all men by a few you've known?”

“Yes.”

“You're too young to be so cynical,” he said softly.

She gave him a shy smile. “Spoken like a wise elder.”

His hand slipped lower as he caressed her hair. “I want you to trust me enough to take you to dinner, then to make certain you get home safely.”

Dina stared up at Lance through her lashes, totally aware of the seductiveness of the gesture when he exhaled audibly. “What guarantee can you give me that I'll be safe with you?”

The seconds ticked off as Lance and Dina regarded each other. “My word,” he said.

She'd been with enough men to know if she could or couldn't trust them, but Lance Haynes was one she knew intuitively she
could
trust. “Do you have a cell phone on you?” He nodded. She held out her hand. “Give it to me.”

His flaring nostrils opened wider. “Why?”

“I'll give it back after you bring me home.”

Shifting slightly, Lance reached for the cell phone on his waist, handing it to Dina and watching as she slipped it into her purse. “What would you like to eat?”

She'd alternated eating at the diner and ordering from soul food and Chinese take-out restaurants. The meals, though staving off hunger, weren't fancy. “Surprise me.”

Lance started up the car, putting it into gear. Dina wanted him to surprise her, and he would.