Every Woman Needs a Wife (18 page)

Timothy, the marketing director, yanked Vernon’s collar. The golden-skinned
man with the shiny bald head glared openly at him. “Man, get yourself together. You look like hell. Your shirt’s all wrinkled and your pants are unzipped. You look like someone dragged you out of the garbage, after they’d dunked you in a few times. Pull yourself together and quit snapping at people.”

“When I want or need your advice, I’ll pay you for it,” Vernon snapped. Anger stemming from the weekend’s events came to the forefront. Of course he wasn’t in top shape. First his father kicking him out on suspicion of what he “thought” might happen with Julie, then Craig and Jeremy turning their backs on him; his mother being incogNegro, Tanya’s house being locked up. And damn it, his health club card was in that wallet! Where the hell was it?

Timothy gripped his arm and ushered him toward the office at the opposite end of the hall. “I’ll let that slide ’cause I know you’re having a bad morning.” His eyes shot daggers. “Here, let me walk you to your office.”

Vernon pulled away. “I don’t need you to—”

The man blocked his path like a football player protecting the goal line. “I can walk with you or carry you. Your choice,” he said quietly. “I’d prefer you walk on your own.” Vernon tried to walk around him, but Timothy’s hand held him in place. “I’ll lead. You smell a little ripe. I definitely don’t want to be downwind.”

At the door leading to his office, Vernon turned to his wide-eyed assistant. “Let me know the minute my wife gets in.”

He barely saw her nod before Timothy closed the door behind them. “I know you’re upset about what’s going down, but taking it out on everybody’s just not cool.”

“Man, what the hell do you know?”

“More than I should,” Timothy shot back. “And if you’re going to be treating everyone like stepchildren around this camp, then take your grumpy ass home or wherever the hell you just came from.”

Taken aback by the man’s vicious tone, Vernon snapped, “I’m your boss! Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Then start acting like a boss instead of a man who’s lost his damn manhood. You almost gave Charmaine whiplash. Quit acting like what’s happening to you is the end of the world.”

Vernon’s gaze narrowed on the man in front of him. “How do you know what’s going on?”

“There’s three modes of communication in the world: telephone, telegraph and tell-a-woman. Fabian’s a card-carrying member of the last club. She told the whole office about Brandi and your mistress. You didn’t know the office gossip was sleeping with Brandi’s cousin? Man, you’re more out of touch than I thought.”

Slumping down on the sofa, Vernon let out a long weary sigh. “So everybody knows.”

“Thanks to that crap you just pulled, they will in a minute. Bad news travels faster than a check hits the bank before payday.”

He settled into the sofa, a far cry better than the hard leather seats of the U-Haul, and the office was definitely a place he wouldn’t have to fight little critters.

“Take a nap or something. Better yet, take some Midol. You have the worst case of PMS I’ve ever seen.”

“Men don’t get PMS.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” Timothy said on his way out.

Vernon covered himself with a jacket. Amazingly, no one—not a single friend—would help him. The women of the world had bonded to make his life miserable. Damn! All he did was the same that most men do—have something going on the side. No harm, no foul. Even his father, three-timer that he was, the man Vernon expected to understand more than anyone else, had given Vernon an eye-opener.

No matter how many doors Brandi managed to close, he still wouldn’t grace the doors of their home if Tanya were still there.

He should have returned the U-Haul by noon on Saturday. Instead, he’d been carting it around, still loaded with all of his things, for the past two days, still unable to find a home base. Asking an employee if he could stay with them was practically out of the question, but then again he did pay their salaries, right? He’d sleep on it for a bit.

Vernon stretched out on the black leather couch, pulling the throw up to his chin. His wife would have to show up to the office at some time. He’d just take a little nap until she did.

B
randi strolled into Avie’s office just as her friend answered the phone.

“Avie Davidson, I’m here to help you.”

Brandi plopped down in the chair, whispering, “Oooooh, I need about… two million dollars for starters.”

Avie covered the phone and whispered, “Then you need to put on that tight black dress and hook it on the street right next to me. Rake in your own cash, heifer.”

Brandi laughed, picked up a magazine, and leafed through the pages.

When Avie wrapped up the call, she dropped the phone into the cradle, and leveled a piercing hazel gaze on her friend.

“What?” Brandi said, laughing again. “You’re not bringing in five grand per night anymore?”

“Taxes and cost of living, baby,” she said with a wide smile. “What’s up?”

“We need to get prepared for separation or divorce.”

Avie said in a bitter, teasing tone, “But I thought you didn’t want a divorce.”

“Yeah, and I know that you were really upset about that, but I know him and I don’t want to be blindsided either. If nothing else, I want to separate the company and our finances right away. I’ve wanted to do that for a while and he’s been dead set against it.”

The lawyer in her friend kicked in as she scribbled on her pad, then looked up. “All right. Now on to other things. You proved your point. It’s time to get that heifer out of your house.”

Brandi turned another page in the magazine. “Why?”

“How can you trust her?”

“How can I not?” Brandi looked up from the page. “It’s been two weeks. She’s been true to her word and the kids love her. She keeps the house immaculate and I start the day off with a hearty breakfast, come back at night to a home-cooked meal, and on a good day, I’ll even have a packed lunch. She’s organized my closets and she keeps my personal calendar.”

Avie shook her head. “You could have a maid to do that.”

“I don’t think a maid would have a vested interest like Tanya does. She gets room and board, plus a salary and benefits—and she takes care of me.” Brandi let her gaze pass over the new painting of the three founding lawyers in the corner. “This will send a message to him to never do this again. What more can I ask?”

Avie let her head drop, staring at the tan carpet. “It’s just…so unnatural.”

“Why? Because I put
his
behind on front street instead of being pissed off with
her
?” Brandi snapped. “Because I used the situation to meet my needs instead of taking it out on her?” She shook her head. “I turned my anger directly where it needs to be—on him and the situation.” She pretended not to notice her friend’s annoyance. “I’ve gotten the best end of the deal. His woman is now my wife.”

Avie, ever the debater, remained strangely silent. She stared at Brandi as though she didn’t recognize the woman who had been her matron of honor, the woman who had gone out of her way to help keep the relationship intact when Veronica Chapman had tried like hell to come between Avie and Carlton. When the wedding ceremony had been halted, and everyone started giving each other curious stares, Brandi had followed the two women and came up on them just as the argument had ended.

Avie returned to the church, and Veronica, persistent bitch that she was, tried to follow. Brandi’s hand snaked out, pushing her down into the mud to keep her from coming back into the wedding to protest and spread the rumor that she was pregnant. Turns out it was a lie anyway—Carlton hadn’t been with the woman since Moses held the rod.

“I think I enjoy being a husband. I’m tired of carrying the whole load.” Brandi placed her feet on the edge of the desk, glaring at Avie, daring the woman to knock the heels away. “And I truly believe that if we bring home
the bacon, just like a man, then we damn sure shouldn’t have to fry it up and clean the damn skillet, too.”

Avie shrugged hopelessly. “So that’s your rationale for this bull?”

“You know, you’re the last person I expected to object to this. Aren’t you the one who said it’s high time that we women flex our muscles? Well, I’m all for that. We can’t always control what happens with the dick, but we sure can react a hell of a lot differently and make it damn inconvenient for men to pull stuff like this.”

Avie took a moment to mull that over. “So this plan of yours means he can still sleep with her?”

“Oh no,” Brandi said with a little laugh. “He won’t come within twenty feet of the house while she’s there. And she won’t have anything to do with him.”

“So they tell you.”

Brandi winced at her friend’s caustic tone. “If you heard her crying at night you’d understand. Every time she does something for me, she’s learning more about who and what I am. She’s realizing I was his partner, the one to whom he pledged his loyalty, through sickness and in health, until death do us part. I held to that. Right now, she’s shedding the same kind of tears that I did when I felt insecure about myself, insecure about pleasing my husband. They’re both learning something. And I’m not done yet.”

♥♥♥

Strangely enough, it had been a conversation with Avie all those years ago that had convinced her that maybe she should give Vernon a chance.

“Arrogant Negro,” Brandi muttered, trying to put some distance between herself and the crowd of boisterous boys hanging out near Jubilee Hall.

Luckily, they weren’t allowed beyond the gold or blue rooms. As the tour guide told a group of parents and incoming freshman, “If your daughter was a slut in high school, she won’t be a ho up in here.”

That might have put parents at ease, but it only served to make the students more resourceful. When there’s dick on one side of the campus and pussy on the other, they
will
meet somewhere in between.

“Homecoming’s right around the corner, do you know where your date is?” Avie asked.

“I don’t have a date. Michael’s not speaking to me because he thinks I’m seeing Vernon—thanks to all that boy’s bull.” She grimaced as she looked at her friend. “I’m not as fortunate as
some
people to have my man lined up for the next hundred years.”

“If you’d stop being so much of a bitch,” Avie shot back, “then maybe someone would snatch your tail up. Someone like Vernon Spencer.”

“Arrrrgggggh, don’t mention his name to me,” Brandi retorted. “You know what that asshole did? When I walked into the cafeteria, he had all the Alphas stand and look in my direction. Then they surrounded me as I walked to my spot.”

Avie batted her eyes dreamily. “That’s so sweet.”

“Sweet my ass! You know people actually think we’re together? I couldn’t get a date if I prepaid for one.”

“You can’t get a date because of your stank-ass attitude, acting like you don’t take a shit like the rest of us. Carlton said the fellas have named you Fudgsicle. Gorgeous and chocolate on the outside, colder than a witch’s tit on the inside.”

Brandi gasped. “No!”

Avie nodded. “Why don’t you give the man a try? Just a date.”

“Because he’ll expect more than just ‘thanks for dinner,’ he’ll want a side order of ass and I’m not giving it.”

“So just give him a half-order—a kiss and a hand job worked for Carlton.”

Janet Jackson’s
Control
played in the background. One of Brandi’s favorite albums.

“I’ve never even heard you talk about getting some,” Avie said softly. “Are you going to stay a virgin the rest of your life?”

A sudden flash of that awful day came across her mind. “I’m not a virgin.”

“Well, as your best friend, I sure haven’t heard any juicy first-time stories.”

“It’s not open for discussion,” Brandi said in a firm tone.

“It’s like that, huh? I tell you about losing my virginity in installments and—”

Brandi’s eyes widened. “You never said that—”

“I didn’t tell you about that weeklong venture?”

“Nope. You told me your first time was with this boy named John and that’s it.”

“Okay, well, the real deal is that I didn’t lose my virginity all in the same day. On the way to the store, I would sneak by John’s house. I was curious about sex because my mother kept stressing that I should keep my legs closed. She took me to the doctor every week to confirm that I was still a virgin. I got tired of going and decided, what the hell! Let’s see what’s so important anyway and then the doctor visits will stop. People were beginning to think I had leukemia or something.”

Brandi shook her head.

“Mama always gave me an hour to go to the store. If I ran, it really only took me ten minutes to get there, ten minutes to get what I was sent for, and ten minutes to get back home, which means I had a whole thirty minutes to play around.” She lifted her eyebrows. “If you know what I mean.”

Brandi shook her head. “You horny little heifer.”

Avie nodded enthusiastically. “I would cut through Mrs. Nolan’s backyard, hop the fence, and cut through Mrs. White’s backyard to get to the next block. Then I crossed the street and two more yards and one fence later, I was at John’s house. We didn’t take a whole lot of time, either. We’d start with kissing,” she sang the old Gladys Knight tune, “touching and hugging and…” Her voice returned to normal. “Well, you know the rest—all of this was trying to get me hot enough to do it. By the time we did all that and he put his penis at the tip, it was time for me to go. The first time it made it only to the opening. The next day it was about an inch in, but as he did, it was time to get dressed and go home. The day after that, he got it in two inches, then it was time to go.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Brandi said, laughing.

Avie shook her head. “The fourth day, he got it halfway in and then it was—”

“Time to go,” Brandi supplied.

“The fifth day it was almost all in, but I made him stop because it hurt worse than all the other times—
and—”

“It was time to go.”