The Deal, the Dance, and the Devil (12 page)

Ethan sat up with wide eyes and a huge grin. “We’re moving to Japan,” he cheered.

Adam said, “The company moved to Japan, but they didn’t take the people with them … at least not most of the people.”

“So they closed the whole company?” Alana whispered. I could see that she was already studying, figuring out what this meant. The children had visited their father’s office many times, always impressed by the seven-story building teeming with fifteen hundred employees.

Adam nodded. “They shut the whole company down.”

Ethan said, “I think we should go to Japan.”

Alexa glared at her brother, then turned to Adam. The terror was on her face before the words came out. “Please, Daddy, no! Don’t make us!”

“We’re not moving,” Adam said, holding up his hands.

Alexa fell out, spread-eagle on the floor, pretending to faint with relief.

Alana asked, “If the company’s gone, what are they going to do with you?”

“Well, they let me go.”

“As in fired?” Alexa popped straight up. “They fired you? Can they do that?”

“Yeah, babygirl. They can do that, though I wasn’t technically fired—just let me go.”

“It’s the same thing, right?” Alexa asked.

“Yes.” He nodded. “So for right now, I don’t have a job.”

“Wow!” The word came out in a three-part chorus, though our children sang different tunes. The girls sounded shocked; Ethan sounded impressed.

“What are you gonna do?” Alexa asked.

“I’m gonna find a new job. I’ve had some interviews, and I have a promising opportunity with American Express.”

“Oh!” Alexa waved her hand as if it was a done deal. “So, you’re just gonna start working somewhere else.”

“Yeah.”

“So, our house is not gonna go into foreclosure, right?” Alexa asked, surprising me. I guessed I was wrong—she did pay a little attention to the world beyond her bedroom door.

Adam glanced at me before he shook his head.

Alexa’s inquisition continued. “And we’re still gonna have our party, right?”

He looked away when he answered that question. “Well, that part … we’re not sure. But we’re still gonna try.”

I think it was the horrified look on Alexa’s face that made Adam’s shoulders slump.

Alexa asked, “So, that means we won’t get cars either?”

“We’re working this all out,” I said, watching Adam shrink right in front of me. “We just wanted to give you guys a heads-up.”

“So what are we supposed to tell everybody?” Alexa asked.

“Nothing … yet,” Adam said.

The twins looked at each other, then Alana said, “That’s okay, Daddy. We’ll be okay even if we don’t have a party.”

After a couple of quiet seconds, Adam cleared his throat of sadness and asked, “Do you guys have any more questions?”

The twins shook their heads, but Ethan piped in, “Can I still play golf?”

“Yeah,” Adam said. “Definitely.”

Ethan nodded. “I wasn’t sure, because I know the lessons are expensive.”

“They are,” Adam said. “But we’re gonna work it out. I only told you because you might see me home a little bit more, and we might … have to cut back on a few things. But your mom and I”—he paused for a second, as if he wanted to make sure I heard that he was including me—“are gonna make sure everything’s okay.”

When the children glanced at each other and said nothing more, Adam added, “In a couple of weeks or even maybe a few
days, we’re gonna have another meeting, this time with nothing but good news. And we’ll start planning your party then.” He looked at the twins. “Okay?”

Alana nodded right away. She jumped up, sprinted across the room, and wrapped her arms around Adam. “It’s okay, Daddy.”

Alexa stayed at Adam’s feet, her face stiff. I wanted to shake my daughter. Couldn’t she see how hurt her father was? But I inhaled to dilute my anger and just kept saying,
Teenager, teenager, teenager
in my mind.

Then, Alexa did the right thing and followed her sister’s lead. She hugged Adam, though unlike her sister, she had no reassuring words for him. Just a hug and a kiss—which was more than enough.

And even though Ethan had told Adam a week ago that he was too old for hugs, our ten-year-old knew that tonight was not the time for handshakes; he embraced his father.

I didn’t move until our children were upstairs and I heard the last bedroom door close. Then I stood and gave Adam my own hug.

Chapter 16

H
AVING THAT TALK YESTERDAY HAD TAKEN
a lot out of my husband, and my thoughts were still on Adam even as I tried to ply through these sales reports.

“That was hard,” Adam had said to me after the children had left us alone.

“Hard, but good. Now they know what’s going on and they’ll be prepared for … whatever we can do.”

But my assurances had not been enough.

When I’d followed him into our bedroom minutes later, he’d already tucked himself into our bed with his head snuggled deep into the pillow. This had been a first. In the sixteen years that we’d been married, our bed had served three purposes—sex, sleep, or rest … but it had never been a retreat from reality.

I’d wanted to shake him, pull him up, not let him slip into the deep abyss of depression. But all I’d done was ask if he’d wanted something to eat, then kissed his forehead when he’d
told me that he wasn’t hungry, that all he’d wanted was a little time alone.

After dinner with the kids, I’d retreated to the bedroom, too. While Adam had slept, I’d sat up in the bed, though I’d never got past the second page of the novel I was reading. It had been hard to concentrate when my husband had been snoring beside me and it hadn’t even been nine o’clock.

Then this morning, Adam had stayed in bed—yet another first—while I’d prepped the kids and finally left the house myself.

Now I couldn’t stop wondering if I’d done the right thing in pushing him to have that talk. I remembered the way Adam had slumped and slouched as he’d faced our children. The way he’d worn what he saw as his failure like a cloak.

A quick knock on the door cut through my concerns, and Rachel popped her head inside.

“Shay-Shaunté wants to know if you’re done with the sales analysis.”

I shook my head. “Give me a few.”

Rachel pushed her whole body through the door. “What’s up with you? You usually have these done like that.” She snapped her fingers.

“Cover for me. I’ll have them in thirty minutes.”

She left me alone and I forced my eyes to focus, but I had no control over my wandering thoughts.

Another knock made me snap, “I said give me thirty, Rachel.”

The door opened and my frown faded fast when Adam stepped in, smiling. Forget about being dressed to the nines—he looked like the perfect ten. His designer suit peeked from beneath his unbuttoned cashmere overcoat, and his shoes were spit-shined.

“What are you doing here?” I jumped up. This was clearly
not the man I’d left at home. Did he come bearing great news about a job?

He closed the door behind him and hugged me. “I didn’t get a chance to kiss you good-bye and tell you to have a good day.”

“Oh,” I said, melting like I did whenever Adam made me feel like I was the heroine of a romance novel. “You came all the way down here to tell me that?”

“And to give you this.”

I hadn’t noticed how Adam was keeping one hand behind his back, holding a flower. It was a rose all by itself, but its perfume was potent, filling my office with its aroma, filling me with happiness. For the moment, I forgot all about foreclosures and bills that couldn’t be paid and parties that would never happen. All that was on my mind was what was most important—and he was right in front of me.

“I love you, Adam.”

“I love you more, Shine.”

“I love you most.”

“And I love you best.”

His lips were on mine for only a second before there was another knock.

I moaned. “Rachel! I told you—”

The door opened, and Adam backed away from me.

“I’m sorry,” Shay-Shaunté said, though she was already halfway inside my office. “I was checking on those reports.”

“I’ll have them to you in half an hour.”

Shay-Shaunté nodded, then turned to Adam. “How’re you?”

I frowned at the way Shay-Shaunté’s eyes scanned my husband. As if she was surveying every inch of him. Had she always looked at him that way?

“I’m good, Shay-Shaunté,” Adam nodded with a smile. “What about you?”

With her signature lopsided grin, she said, “Very well.”

Shay-Shaunté needed to back up, and Adam needed to stop playing nice with the enemy, but then, he didn’t know that Shay-Shaunté was the enemy, did he?

With her eyes still on my husband, Shay-Shaunté said, “I’m sorry if you were as offended with my offer as Evia.”

Oh, no! I never expected her to say anything! Why was she even bringing it up when we’d agreed that it was not gonna happen, so therefore, over and behind us? “Ah … Shay-Shaunté …” I said, shaking my head. It was supposed to be a hint—from one sistah-girl to another.

Whether she got it or not, she kept on, “No, I really want to apologize to both of you.” Turning back to Adam, she said, “As I explained to Evia—”

“Ah … Shay-Shaunté …” This time I was gonna have to say more, because for some reason, this high-powered, educated, rich chick wasn’t catching my clue. “There’s no need to apologize again.” I waved my hand and walked toward the door. “Like we agreed, it’s behind us.”

“It’s behind you and me.” Shay-Shaunté hadn’t taken one step away from my husband. “But I want to make sure that Adam has no bad feelings either.”

“About what?” My husband’s forehead was creased with confusion.

“My offer.” Shay-Shaunté frowned, as if she was stumped. “When I asked Evia about you and me … you know, the five million dollars?”

Now I watched my high-powered, educated, but not-so-rich husband look like he couldn’t put together two sentences.

“Oh!” Shay-Shaunté held her hand over her heart as if she was surprised. Looking between me and Adam and finally resting her eyes on him, she said, “I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”

“No,” I said, finally getting a word in, although it was too
late. “I didn’t tell him. Because like I told you, it was never going to happen.”

Adam held up his hands. “Would somebody tell me what’s going on?”

Before I could say a word, Shay-Shaunté slid down in the chair in front of Adam and crossed her legs as Adam and I both watched the hem of her already too-short Tadashi sheath ease up her thigh.

“Well, Adam,” she began like she was going to be the one to tell him the story.

As if I would let that happen!

I stepped right in front of her, blocking her view of my husband. I had to or I was gonna slap her, and I didn’t think that would work out too well for me.

“Shay-Shaunté.” I said her name so slowly that it came out in ten syllables. “I will handle this.”

She nodded. “Are you going to tell him?”

I could not believe this trick was sitting here questioning me about my husband.

And she kept on! “I mean, it seems like Adam”—she leaned to the side so that she could see around me—“… it seems like he wants to know.”

I need this job. I need this job. I need this job.

“Shay-Shaunté …” This time her name had twenty syllables. “I will handle my business.”

That mask of concern that she wore faded from her face. “Okay,” she said. She stood and looked over my shoulder so that she could see Adam. With her triumphant smile, she said, “It was so good to see you.”

“You, too.”

I kept my eyes on Shay-Shaunté, making sure that she was gonna really leave this time.

She moved with her signature stroll … that soft, slow sway
of her hips. I was all woman, but the way she walked almost hypnotized me; I couldn’t imagine what she did to men, especially the one standing behind me.

With a final glance over her shoulder, she sauntered out the door, and I breathed again. I had to take another deep breath, though, before I faced Adam.

With his arms folded, he asked, “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

No! Not even with Shay-Shaunté outing me like this—I still didn’t want to do it.

“Shine?” Now it was my name that sounded like it had multiple syllables.

“Yeah. We need to talk.” I grabbed my coat and his hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

Chapter 17

T
HERE WAS NO WAY
I
WAS
going to sit inside Shay-Shaunté’s office—that space that she owned—and tell Adam about how Shay-Shaunté wanted to own him and me. Once we were downstairs, I saw our SUV parked right in front, and I headed for it.

We hopped inside and Adam revved up the engine, turned the heat to high, then sat back and waited for me to speak.

But he wasn’t patient, because the moment he could part his lips without quivering from the cold, he said, “So, what’s going on?”

I took the deepest breath I could, since I didn’t know when I was gonna get a chance to breathe again, then I started at the beginning. “Shay-Shaunté called me into her office last week and gave me a check for five million dollars.” I told him every detail of that conversation and the one after, in which I’d put her on notice that there was no amount of money that could
buy us like that. “So,” I began wrapping it up, “I don’t know why she brought it up today. As far as I was concerned, as far as she was concerned, it was over.”

Then … nothing but silence.

I said, “Are you going to say anything?”

He didn’t speak; just reached for the heater and turned it off. As if being offered five million dollars for his body made him hot.

I shuddered. The heat of my anger was no longer enough to keep me warm. Were all of my thoughts, all of my doubts coming true? I asked, “You’re not thinking …”

I couldn’t even bear to finish that thought.

Adam hesitated a bit too long for me. But then he spewed out nothing but righteousness. “Nah, nah. Of course not. No. Are you kidding me? Never!” He almost sounded indignant. “I can’t believe she even came at you like that.” Then, with his little rant over, he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”