Déjà Vu (21 page)

N
othing had changed since Angelica left Fayetteville. She couldn’t say that about the turn of events in her life—Donna, Hamilton, and now Ari. It was as if she wore a neon sign that said “I’m bad news and if you get close to me something terrible will happen to you.”

She and Edward got a hotel room somewhere in the middle of town, Edward had suggested that they get double beds so that he could be close to Angelica in case Santiago should roll into town.

“You know Hamilton’s folks are waiting on you to finish the arrangements.”

Angelica walked around in circles with her arms folded across her chest. “Edward, I really don’t want to go. Those people hate me, and I think they blame me for Donna’s death because I was living with her.”

“Well, you’re going to have to, Little Sis. I’ll be with you. I’m going to call Jefferson when daylight comes and see if he can meet us sometime today—get all of this over with.”

“Do what you have to do. I wonder if they found Ari yet? I can’t believe Santiago would stoop so low as to harm Ari to get to me.”

“I hope the police find Santiago before he hurts another soul. Angelica, I fear that if they don’t, you will be in grave danger.”

Embezzling funds from his corporation had cost Jefferson more than a twenty-year prison sentence that was reduced to five. It cost him his livelihood and a marriage that was crumbling at a fast rate right before his very eyes. Several million dollars of stolen property marked him as a man not to be respected, causing him undue stress and liabilities which, if it had not been for Margo, could have put the family in ruins. Jefferson understood Margo’s distrust of him in some ways; it tore at his heart that while he thought she would accept him back with open arms, she had rejected him, although she had led the church congregation and others to believe that she wanted him home and was willing to do whatever it took to get their family back on track. Seeing Malik at Margo’s real estate office earlier served as a reminder that his indiscretions were still costing him.

Quiet invaded the house. For the first time since coming home, Jefferson ventured to the little area that they called a bar and poured himself a stiff drink. His mind was in knots but not because of Malik. He had another worry that caused him great anxiety—Santiago. Memories of a not so distant past flooded his mind.
How did I end up in this mess,
Jefferson reasoned with himself.

The wet drink trickled over his fingers as he dodged the memory of the hail of bullets that had rained on his Mercedes. He grabbed his glass with his other hand to keep from spilling its entire contents. Jefferson was deathly afraid of Santiago, and he still carried the scars of a near-fatal crash.

The ringing of the phone brought him back to reality. He rushed to the phone, anxious to talk to someone, anyone who would take his mind away from the thoughts that were trying to rob him of his sanity.

“Hello,” Jefferson said, not recognizing the number.

“Jefferson, this is Edward Thompson, Angelica’s brother.”

This was not the voice Jefferson was anxious to hear. It was not soothing, and the last thing he wanted to talk about was Angelica.

“Yes, Edward. Are you in town?”

“Yes, Angelica and I arrived early this morning, a little ahead of schedule. Do you have some time today to go over Hamilton’s papers? It looks like we may have to bury Hamilton, and we’d like to have all our ducks in a row so we can move expeditiously, if possible.”

Jefferson hesitated. He hadn’t anticipated seeing Angelica so soon and wasn’t sure he wanted to see her at all. Edward’s voice brought him back to the moment.

“If it’s not convenient…”

“No, no,” Jefferson said. “My mind was on something else, but sure…this afternoon is fine. How about in a couple of hours?”

“Sounds good. Why don’t we meet at O’Charley’s, say two o’clock, it’s open and public.”

“I’ll be there.”

“All right, see you later,” Edward said.

Jefferson hung up the phone and looked at his watch. He had an hour and a half before he would meet them. Why not? Many of his days and nights were spent alone. If Margo wasn’t showing a house, she had other things she was involved in that kept her away from home. It seemed she consumed much of her time finding ways to stay away from him.

Jefferson let out a small sigh as he continued to think about his state of affairs. He needed a job. It was the only way he would add some civility to his life. Maybe it would be best if he and Margo led separate lives. It certainly seemed to be what she wanted. He shook the thought from his head temporarily.

He hobbled to his bedroom. Every day, strength was returning to the muscles in his legs. There were times he still needed to use his walker, but today he was going to show Angelica and Edward that he was a whole man and that he had truly come back from the dead.

Jefferson marched into the large walk-in closet and pulled out a pair of starched jeans, a white long-sleeved shirt, and a blue Polo blazer. After laying his clothes on the bed, he ran through the shower, splashed on a little of his favorite after-shave and sang a song while putting on his clothes. A song had not split his lips in a long time, and while he was only going to see Angelica and Edward on business, Jefferson felt like he was back in the saddle.

Checking his watch again, Jefferson picked up his wallet and looked around the house to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything. It wouldn’t take him long to get to the restaurant, but he wanted to arrive a few minutes early so that, if he did have to struggle to the door, he wouldn’t be the object of their stares. Ten minutes later, Jefferson was out of the house and on his way to O’Charley’s.

The air was brisk, but it felt wonderful as Jefferson rested his arm in the frame of the open window. The radio was tuned to Foxy 99; Jefferson’s head swayed with the music. He wasn’t sure why a simple drive to a restaurant to meet with the woman he despised invigorated him, but he reminded himself that this reunion was strictly business.

The parking lot was relatively light and Jefferson pulled into one of the free handicapped spots that were available. After exiting the car, he looked around to see if he recognized any familiar faces. Seeing none, he headed inside and requested a table for three.

Several couples entered the restaurant. Jefferson’s eyes darted into the parking lot, anticipating the arrival of his lunch companions. Then he saw her—dressed in a white, form-fitting pantsuit, set off by a golden-yellow blouse with a pronounced fly-away collar. She seemed taller than he remembered, but once she entered the restaurant along with her brother Edward, he saw the sleek pointed-toe stilettos that encased her feet. Her hair was brushed back into a ponytail, and diamond studs dotted her ear lobes. He resisted the desire to stare.

“Hello, Jefferson,” Angelica said, nodding her head slightly with an arrogance Jefferson remembered well. She extended her hand to him.

“And a good afternoon to you, Angelica, Edward,” Jefferson replied, patting Angelica’s hand and then letting it go.

Angelica made a full scan of the man she last saw sitting in a wheelchair at the county courthouse. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah, a very long time.”

Pleasantries over, the trio followed the hostess to a table at a nearby window. Jefferson expressed his condolences and shared with Angelica and Edward that he feared Hamilton’s death might be the work of Santiago. It was Angelica’s revelation that gave more meaning to what Jefferson feared and multiplied his anxiety. With Santiago looking for Angelica, he would constantly have to look over his own shoulder. Edward shared that the local police were already alerted that Santiago might find his way back to Fayetteville.

They each ordered a salad and continued their light conversation. Jefferson felt Angelica’s eyes dart in his direction, but he resisted the temptation to look back. Even though she was as beautiful as she ever was, he refused to fall into her clutches again. Jefferson hadn’t forgotten the moments he’d spent with her, compromising
his marriage and his reputation, but they were just that, moments of the flesh, and although his life with Margo was on shaky ground, she was the only woman he’d ever love. They finished their lunch and agreed to go back to Angelica’s hotel room to look over Hamilton’s will and the other documents.

T
raffic was heavy for late afternoon. Margo drove toward the center of town to get a bite to eat. She had completed a mound of paperwork back at the office, and instead of going home, she opted for time by herself to reflect and think.

Her mind was conflicted. It seemed she couldn’t turn off thoughts of Malik, although she felt an obligation to her husband to make their marriage work. Playing over and over in the back of her mind was yesterday’s scene at the office. There couldn’t be any more near misses between Malik and Jefferson. Margo was fascinated with Malik, but his obsession for her was making her crazy because he was bent on her making a decision between him and Jefferson sooner than she thought she was ready. And then there was her conscience that wouldn’t allow her to entertain an adulterous proposition such as leaving her husband for another man, especially since she had made a pact with the Lord that she was His and Jefferson’s.

As she drove on, Margo silently asked the Lord to forgive her fornicating thoughts. A good Christian wouldn’t entertain thoughts of the flesh, even though Margo was weak. There was nothing left to do but tell Malik that she was committed to her husband, and they needed to do what was right. She couldn’t risk both of them going to hell.

Margo pulled into the parking lot of Logan’s and proceeded to
get out. In doing so, she faced O’Charley’s and the surrounding parking lot. Her mouth flew open as she saw Jefferson leave the restaurant with a woman that looked very much like Angelica.

Anger replaced surprise. Life with Jefferson was not good, but Margo hadn’t expected to see him with Angelica after he had sworn that he wanted nothing else to do with her.
What a liar
, Margo thought.

She jumped back into her car and turned on the ignition. As soon as Jefferson pulled out, she followed them at a safe distance. She hadn’t expected them to stop so soon. They drove around the bend and pulled into the parking lot of a hotel that sat on the backside of the restaurant and a Sam’s Club.

She couldn’t believe her eyes. Right out in the open, before God and all of Fayetteville, Angelica was getting out of Jefferson’s car. No, he didn’t run to her side of the car and open the door, but the mere fact that they were about to enter a hotel was reason enough to follow them and pump their bodies with bullets from a gun she wished she had. Instead, she watched as they disappeared through the double doors of the hotel lobby entrance, dropped her head on the steering wheel and cried.

With tears still flowing, she lifted her head and proceeded out of the parking lot unaware that Edward had passed in front of her and parked his car near the front of the hotel. There was no need to delay her decision about what to do with her marriage. It was settled. Whenever Jefferson returned home, his things would be waiting at the front door or on the sidewalk. She didn’t care which. This would be the last night they would share the same address. The hunger pangs would have to wait. There was one stop Margo had to make before she headed home.

Horns blared as Margo weaved in and out of traffic, cutting off two or three victims of her reckless driving. She honked back,
oblivious to the fact that she was the culprit that was deserving of those honks. Ten minutes later, Margo jerked the car to an abrupt stop in front of SuperComp Technical Solutions.

With her purse swinging at her side, Margo rushed from the car as if it were on fire. She was a woman on a mission, but not to purchase a computer or any other piece of electronics.

Surprise registered on Malik’s face as he saw Margo making her way toward him. There was alarm on her face. “What’s wrong, Margo?” Malik asked, assuring his customer that he would return in a moment.

“I need to talk to you,” she said, “but not here.”

“Why don’t you go into my office, and when I’m finished with this customer, we can go wherever you want,” Malik suggested. “It’ll take a few minutes.”

Margo waited ten to twenty minutes before Malik returned. The wait was driving her crazy. She couldn’t let go of the last image she had of Jefferson and Angelica entering the hotel. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Malik started, shuffling a few papers on his desk and looking around for his jacket. “After yesterday, I thought you were too busy to see me.”

There was no response from Margo. For the first time since she arrived, he stopped and took a good look at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Angelica is in town.”

“And why do you care? She’s probably here because of Hamilton.”

Margo looked at Malik. He was thinking like a man, but she didn’t care. She needed someone to talk to. “I followed Angelica and Jefferson to a hotel this afternoon. And to think that bastard had the nerve to tell me that Angelica meant nothing to him and he was glad she was out of his life. I believed him.”

“I tried to tell you earlier that that scheming witch was no good.
I’ve never trusted her and could see straight through that demented mind of hers the moment she was back in town. With all of Jefferson’s professing to be in love with you, the first thing he does the moment Angelica rides back in town is to go sniffing like a hound. I told you he didn’t deserve you.”

“Okay, that’s enough. Can we get out of here?”

“Wherever you like. We’ll take my car.”

Margo followed Malik to his car and got in without looking back or at him. Malik put the car in gear and drove away.

“Where would you like to go?” he asked, not sure of Margo’s mood.

“Why don’t we go to your place; I want to talk.”

“We’re on our way, Ma’am.” Malik patted her thigh. Although she didn’t brush his hand away, Margo looked straight ahead.

They rode in silence until Malik turned abruptly, hit the remote to raise the door to his underground garage and entered. It had been awhile since Margo was last here, and her body began to tense.

Malik opened the car door. Margo followed him through a door that led into the foyer off to the right of the living area. Malik still maintained his love of art with new pieces by Poncho and Charles Bibbs merged in with the old ones that hung on the walls. The rooms were cozy, and Margo scanned them as she walked from one to another. She even managed a slight twirl as she also surveyed some of the African art pieces.

“Beautiful,” Margo said, finally sitting on one of the oak bar stools that flanked the high-top counter that separated the kitchen from the living room.

“You’re beautiful,” Malik said as he walked and stood in front of her. He took her hand and gently kissed her fingers. “Let me take your coat.”

He watched as Margo graciously slid from the stool, one foot dropping to the floor and then the other. Malik moved behind her to catch her coat as it slid from her shoulders as if in slow motion. He sniffed her fragrance as he dragged her coat across his nose and then briefly shut his eyes. Intoxicated!

After hanging up her coat, Malik invited Margo to sit with him in the living room. Margo began to share what she was feeling—the feeling of déjà vu. Margo’s lips moved but Malik was in a trance, smitten by the woman standing next to him.

“Make love to me, Malik.”