Every Woman Needs a Wife (10 page)

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Authors: Naleighna Kai

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Contemporary

BOOK: Every Woman Needs a Wife
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“I’m telling ya, it wasn’t me!”

Everyone laughed.

That Christmas was one of the best Tanya had ever experienced. The Pitchfords didn’t have the kind of money that her folks had, but they had something more—love and appreciation for small things and blessings that Tanya had always taken for granted. They accepted her without question, and after a while even Grandpa James softened up.

She could only wish she actually was a true part of the family. Then she wouldn’t harbor so much pain in her heart. Pain caused by a father who believed that since he was mayor, he was above the law. And a mother who turned the other cheek and allowed the man to do anything he pleased—even if that anything was raping his own daughter.

♥♥♥

 

“You want something to drink?”

Tanya jerked back to the present as she turned, looking up into the almond-shaped eyes of Brandi’s brother. His slender frame, redbone coloring, wide mouth, and short, cropped hair combined to make a handsome
man. The dry tone and scowl on his face didn’t make him seem so friendly. In a flash, he reminded her a great deal of Grandpa James.

“A Scotch would be nice.”

Donny stared at her. “Woman, where do you think you are?” he snapped. “Black folks don’t do Scotch, we do cognac or a little Erk and Jerk—y’all might call it E&J.”

Brandi gripped her brother’s collar, comically snatching him away and patting him on the rear end. “The Cutty Sark is right next to the VSOP and Remy. Quit acting like we don’t know what Scotch is. As a matter of fact, break out the bottle of Gold Label Johnny Walker.”

Donny beamed as though someone had awarded him the Nobel Prize. “But that’s Vernon’s private stock,” he whispered, grinning widely.

“Nothing’s private anymore.” Brandi winked at Tanya. “And half of it belongs to me anyway.”

He threw a quick, wary glance at Vernon.

“Okay, so we’ll just drink my fifty percent and put the rest back,” Brandi said. “Go on, scoot. Get it!” She aimed him in the direction of the liquor cabinet, then called after him, “Hey! And serve Vernon up first.”

William appeared next to Brandi, growling just loud enough for the three people nearby to hear, “This is nonsense. My son wouldn’t need a mistress if you’d lose some damn weight. You’re probably holding half a village under your armpits alone.”

Tanya gasped, feeling a stab of pain for Brandi.

“Why do I need to change who I am for anyone?” Brandi asked with a proud lift of her chin. “There isn’t a Black man on the planet who doesn’t appreciate a woman with curves. And for your information, we don’t smell, we don’t tell, we’re grateful as hell, and fuck real well.” Brandi reached out, patting William’s gut. “Handle that, Grandpa.”

“Watch your mouth, baby,” Brandi’s mother said, wrapping an arm around her daughter’s waist. “But tell the truth and shame the devil. Ain’t nothing wrong with a little jiggle in the middle.”

“What’s gotten into you?” The heavyset man’s bald head reflected nearly everything in the room. Not a pretty sight, given the canvas.

Brandi replied, “All these years, nothing I’ve done to make you like me has made a damn bit of difference. So I’m done trying.” Then she lowered her gaze to a potbelly the size of an English kettle. “And you’ve got a lot of nerve talking about somebody needing to lose weight. That isn’t a kangaroo pouch, is it? Or are you giving birth to twins?”

The man sputtered, trying to come up with a retort. Brandi’s mother didn’t give him a chance. “And the back side looks like two grocery bags fighting for space on a car seat.”

“A woman should always maintain a
decent
size,” he snapped. “That’s what keeps a man’s interest.”

Vernon’s mother came and stood next to Brandi, glaring up at her ex-husband. “And a man can spread out to the size of a football field and that’s okay?”

“I’m not
that
big,” he grumbled, instantly humbled by the woman’s mere presence.

“Well, your stomach turns corners before the rest of you. I’d say it’s getting close to the goal line.” She jabbed him in the side. “Let the jewelry and cash stop, you’ll see exactly how much the latest toy enjoys your love handles. Or are they just there so she can heave you out of the window, kill you, and then collect the cash?”

He glowered angrily at her, pulling up to his full height. “You’re just jealous because I’ve found someone younger and more useful.”

Bettye grinned. “I could never be jealous of someone whose only real qualities end and begin in the bedroom. Shows how
useful
she really is and how desperate you really are.”

His eyes, dark and menacing, narrowed to slits. “I wouldn’t need anyone else if you’d given me more children.”

The twinkle in the woman’s dark brown eyes signaled trouble as Bettye gave him her sweetest smile. “Well, if you stayed hard longer than three seconds that might’ve helped things out.”

Murmurs went up from the nearby crowd, followed by laughter as the music lowered and a few inched their way closer.

Julie, the girlfriend of the week, finally broke away from the wine table
and gripped William’s arm. “Come on, honey, you don’t have to take that.”

“Yes, dear, go on and put Papa to bed,” Bettye said, laughing and shooing them away. “Make sure you tuck him in real good, you hear?” Then she called out to her ex over the crowd. “Oh by the way, did Mary, Ella, or Cleopha give you children, too? No? Says something about the power down below.” Then she lifted her arm, curling her hand into a fist—saying screw you and stay hard in one gesture.

William’s flat lips curled into a sneer before he spat, “Good night, mother of one.”

“Good night, father of…” She shrugged, lifting her hands in a helpless gesture. Then her gaze flickered to Vernon and back to William before giving William a suspicious wink.

Oh shit! No she didn’t!
Tanya braced herself for the fallout.

William pulled up short, almost tossing Julie to the ground, eyes flashing with anger. “What the hell?” he said looking over at his son as though seeing him for the very first time. “Vernon?”

Bettye held up her glass. “Cheers.”

Tanya shook her head, eyes widening with wonder as she asked, “Is it always like this?”

“Aww honey,
this
is mild.” Brandi gave the woman’s hand a gentle pat, obviously enjoying the new developments. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

C
HAPTER
Eleven
 

A
s Julie steered Vernon’s angry father toward the door, Brandi—with a glass of his special stash sloshing in a brandy snifter—breezed past Vernon. He followed, hot on her tail, maneuvered around her, and cut her off. “That woman is
not
staying here.”

“Why not? It’ll save money,” she said, squeezing by him. She sped up, trying to get to her lawyer and her brother who were chatting with Tanya as they stood near the solarium entrance. “You brought her into our marriage, now she’s a central part of it. Deal with it.”

Again, Vernon blocked her path. This time she gave in and dropped down onto a wingback chair, crossing one leg over the other. “You felt that somehow I wasn’t doing my job as a wife, taking care of the family, plus taking care of the house, I agree, I can’t do it all. We
both
need a wife. Good looking out.”

Avie and Donny appeared next to Brandi as Vernon began to speak. He stopped short, noticing the lawyer’s angry glare and Donny’s matching scowl. Where were Craig and Jeremy when he needed them? And why hadn’t Avie’s husband come tonight—he could’ve helped keep that pit bull in check.

Then he saw his friends trying to have discreet conversations with their wives, and realized he couldn’t go back to them, either. They had all snapped at him about how this mess affected them, too. The women had powwowed and it seemed now that Vernon was in the doghouse, he had a bit of company, making it a full dog pound—complete with tags and
leashes. And they blamed him. Losing his wife, his home, a mistress, and his friends? Not bad for one night’s work. And the night wasn’t even over.

Vernon pivoted, turning away from the fearsome threesome. His gaze landed on the palest woman in the room, her hair fanning out around her face, legs crossed under her in a sexy way that would normally bring a rise to his big fry. In high school and college, when the women were giving up pussy out of both panty legs, he was on either side making sure to stay on the receiving end. That all ended when he fell in love with Brandi.

Right now, the little stallion was resting at the gate, realizing, just like his buddies, that where pussy was concerned, he would find more famine than feast over the next few weeks.

Vernon strolled over to Tanya, who had perched on the paisley love seat as though she were a family heirloom instead of a stranger who should have never graced their doorstep. And she certainly should never have given his wife a stupid idea like this. “After all I did for you, making sure you didn’t want for anything, how can you betray me like this?”

“Betray you?” she yelled, her skin flushing an angry pink. “Betray
you!
You’re the one who
lied
about being married. You’re the one who said your wife died giving birth to Sierra.” Then she folded her arms across her breasts. “Or is there another wife hidden in the trenches who happens to be the mother of the two girls you brought to my house last week?”

Tanya? Angry? Talking back to him in public? What was wrong with his women today?

“If you stay with Brandi, I want all my shit back—everything,” he said. “You walk away with what you came with—one suitcase and—”


Au contraire, mon cheri
,” Brandi purred in a fake French accent as she inched up to the not-so-happy duo. She placed a condescending arm around Vernon’s shoulders. “She has every right to keep the jewelry, clothes, the figurines, and the artwork. They were gifts. If this was Texas, she could sue you for breach of promise to marry. I think there’s a woman who wrote a novel about that…”

“It’s called
Divorcing Your Husband
,” Tanya supplied quickly, taking a tiny sip of Scotch while keeping a keen eye on Vernon. “I think it’s by P. M. Carroll or somebody like that.”

Brandi nodded as she continued, “I suggest you pull it together, scoop your ego off the floor, and come to terms with the new order of the house. I now have something to show for
your
efforts.” Brandi leaned in, whispering, “And I’m going to enjoy every minute.”

Vernon reached out, pushing Brandi back toward the bedroom and yanking Tanya off the love seat so they could have it out in private.

Donny scrambled from behind the turntable, making a beeline for his brother-in-law.

Tanya whirled out of Vernon’s grasp.

Craig and Jeremy reached Vernon before Donny did, and yanked their friend backward, dragging him to the front door. Vernon shrugged them off, shaking an angry fist in the air. “There wouldn’t be a business, this house, or any of this if it wasn’t for me. For
me!
Where do you get off making stupid rules like this?”

“Like I said before, the money was minor,” Brandi said in a calm tone. “But I kept it going and growing…” Her lips spread into a near-evil smile as she winked. “Unlike
some things
these days.”

Howls of laughter erupted all around them.

Vernon froze, glowering at the women now congregated on Brandi’s side of the room. “I’ll be back in the morning.”

“Fine,” Brandi said, shrugging. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Vernon nodded toward Tanya. “And she’d better be gone.”

The newest member of the family turned to Brandi, saying loudly enough for everyone to hear, “What time shall I serve breakfast?”

Brandi grinned without taking her eyes off her husband. “Seven-thirty’s good for me.”

Vernon took a tentative step toward Tanya. Jeremy and Craig reined him in, lifting him off the floor and, carried him—ranting, kicking, and yelling—toward the door.

As the three men reached the foyer, Brandi called out, “DJ, turn the music up. The party’s just beginning, folks.”

Vernon’s gaze connected with his wife as she swiveled her shoulders to the rhythm of
You can’t hit and run, I’ve got to be number one…
with a smirk on her generous lips.

Vernon’s mind raced like a V-8 engine with the throttle wide open. Brandi and Tanya might think they had the upper hand, but they wouldn’t be so happy when he returned tomorrow.

There would be no family or friends around to save them then.

C
HAPTER
Twelve
 

T
he grandfather clock in the foyer struck three. The house on Cregier was finally empty. Brandi Spencer had all but slipped into a coma. Tanya put the last of the plates in the dishwasher and turned it on. Sighing wearily, she rested her hips against the sink, wondering what the hell she had gotten herself into.

Walking the length of both levels of the house, she relished the quiet calm as she took in Brandi’s eclectic taste. Evidently the woman was a minimalist, as only the necessary furniture held ground over the bedrooms, living room, solarium, dining room, den, library, and two offices—his and hers. Not one thing extra, making it somewhere between sparse and elegant. Paintings of Egypt and the honey-brown luster of the Egyptian Cleopatra and Nefertiti shared space with blue, lavender, and silver abstracts.

Strangely enough, Tanya had a likeness of a Macedonian Greek Cleopatra alongside the same brown-skinned Egyptian rendition Brandi had. Most people didn’t realize that there were seven Cleopatras, and that by the time the Greeks had invaded the area, the last in their line was nowhere near the same hue as the others, though her life was no less challenging.

At one point, to protect herself from her family, the last Cleopatra had to be rolled up in a carpet and whisked to safety. Almost like Tanya, who had to be under police security in the hospital, then whisked away to live with the Pitchfords.

And also just like Cleopatra’s sister, Tanya’s sister Mindy had been killed because of something Tanya had done. As Tanya stared up at the creamy
brown skin and the regal bearing of the Cleopatra on Brandi’s wall, she wondered how Vernon’s wife would equate to the queen.

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