Don't Ask My Neighbor (14 page)

Read Don't Ask My Neighbor Online

Authors: Kristofer Clarke

BOOK: Don't Ask My Neighbor
12.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Samantha maintained her faith until the screen dropped down across the room from the ceiling, and the images of her and Parker Chandler appeared. She
watched in silence as the truth of that day unfolded before her. I stood across the room and watched her confidence fold like a cluster of shame-old-lady plant. 

When she’d had enough she screamed, “Turn it off!”

I ignored her request, and instead I watched her moan in ecstasy, thinking how I couldn’t wait to see the look on Jelani’s face as he sat and watched his lying, false-hearted Samantha doing what she does best. Samantha shouted out demands and spoke obscenities every time Parker obeyed her. Most of the time, her head was buried in the space between his head and shoulders. She wrapped her legs over his back, and secured his position on top of her by interlocking her feet. There was nowhere for him to go, though by his motions he had planned on being inside her for a while. She dropped her head back when he found her spot, and she didn’t mind telling him that was exactly what he did.

“Since you said I was there, don’t you think I should at least see what I enjoyed?” I paused the picture so she could see the devious look her face. How could Parker have fallen for that? “How’d you do it, Samantha?”

“That must be the question of the damn century!” she screamed. “You proved your point. Please, turn it off.”

I pressed the stop button on the remote, removed the disc from the player, and placed it back in the sleeve.

“This is what you’re going to do,” I said, walking over to the desk to pick up my shoulder bag. “First, you’re going to call Jelani and tell him you can’t marry him. Then you’re going to tell him about you and Parker, and after that, you are going to draft a nice letter of resignation, effective immediately after your award, because on that stage, you’re going to tell them exactly why you don’t deserve it.”

“You want me to break Jelani’s heart?”

“There’s something else you’re good at. Don’t worry, he’ll get over it.”

“And what makes you think I’m going to do any of these things?” She leaned against the conference table and folded her arms across her chest.

“Oh, you’re going to. You see, everything you have now, maybe you could’ve gotten them just by being honest. I didn’t do anything to you, and God knows Parker didn’t, either. I can only imagine what you did or said to him to get him to partake in your scheme. Was it worth it? You actually thought this shit would never catch up to you?”

She sat still, watching me walk toward the door. I stopped in front of her, looked at her square in her face and shook my head. Samantha was already her own worst enemy. While everyone might not know of all she did to so many people who had the unfortunate fate of crossing her path, she has had to li
ve with the one person who does; herself.

“Don’t just sit there looking for someone to feel sorry for you. You have a few phone calls to make.”

 

             

 

Twenty-Three

___________

 

What Did You Do?

 

Kennalyn  

 

 

 

I WAS ITCHING TO FIND OUT what happened with Ryle and his visit to Samantha, but I wasn’t going to make it my business until he reached out to me. I must say Samantha wasn’t herself at work all day, so I knew whatever Ryle had planned must have worked. She spent most of the day in her office, and seemed on edge whenever I entered. I knew something was really wrong when she asked me to remove her stand-in Friday afternoon lunch with Mr. Graybourne. I supposed Ryle’s visit had thrown a monkey wrench in her happiness. I wondered if she had the audacity to tell Jelani about the visit, and I would have given anything to be the fly on her wall to watch his reaction. Two days before she was reveling in her upcoming nuptials, flashing her ring in the face of anyone who cared, and believe me, she didn’t have many who could even pass off a pretense as if they did.

The week had finally caught up to me. Cody called soon after school to ask if he and Alex could stay the weekend at their father’s house. Since it was his request, I wasn’t going to deny him. Sure his request meant I had to cancel my weekend plans to spend time with them, since they didn’t have any games or practice to attend. I guess mommy had grown up. Before, my hatred for Gage and my selfishness would have made up any reasons not to oblige, but if Cody and Alex could forgive him for walking out on them, I wasn’t going to impose my loathing toward him on them.

Before heading upstairs, I stopped in the kitchen and grabbed a wine glass and a half-bottle of wine from the cooler. Both would be emptied before the night was over. After downing the first two glasses full, I lay on my back with my head resting in the palms of my hand, and stared into the ceiling. I was drifting away in thoughts. I thought about my conversations with my mother and Campbell, and how because of Samantha and my desires to get even, I had, in a way, put my own life on hold. I didn’t know how to get them to see I had the life I wanted. I married the man I fell in love with, and sharing him was never something I had to worry about. Hell, losing him was never something I had to fret over, and I damn sure didn’t think my best friend would be the person I would lose him to. Because of Samantha, I had to go on without him. She had no idea what she did. Samantha happened to dreams Gage and I used to share. She shattered them all because of her momentary desire for him. Her yearnings for any man had always been fleeting.

I was having my tear-jerk moment when my phone rang. It sat on the three-drawer nightstand next to the empty wine bottle and half-filled glass. The clock displayed three ones on the screen. I was oblivious to how late it was since, with Cody and Alexis gone for the weekend, I had no plans to wake early and hadn’t paid much attention to the time since I came home. I answered without looking at the numbers on the display, but I knew only two people would be crazy enough to call me at that hour of the night, and after our conversation a couple days earlier, one of those two persons was not Campbell.

“Hello,” I answered in a sleepy voice, just in case it was someone I didn’t feel like talking to: my mother.

“You’re either going to tell me you were in the field again, or you’re going to tell me you didn’t get my message I left you yesterday. Either way, I’m going to pretend I believe you.”

It was Parker.

“What are you talking about? I didn’t get a message from you. And yes, I was in the field.” I sat up in the bed and rested my back against the headboard. “Anyway, do you see what time it is? You only call me this late when you got some shit going on. What did Nigel do?”

“This isn’t even about him. Why would you bring him up?” he asked, sounding agitated.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized without hesitating. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“You know that ass your mother always said you made of yourself when you assume?”

“Yes.”

“Hello.” He laughed. I joined in.

That’s what I liked about Parker’s personality. I missed it when he and Nigel first separated, and for a while, I thought it would never return. I’m glad I was wrong.

“Anyway, you won’t believe who I ran into yesterday as I was leaving the office?”

I had my guesses, but this was his story to tell.

“Who?”

“Ryle Lucas. I walked out of the elevator and damn near walked right into him.”

“How long has it been since you’ve seen him?”

“It’s been some years. Not since his D-day. That accusation Samantha dropped on him would have destroyed any man, but he looked like he already dealt with the worst.”

“Besides the accusation, there wasn’t much for him to deal with. I mean, you did say he didn’t rape her, right?”

              “Right.”

             
“But what you didn’t tell me was why you were so sure.” I slid from the bed, grabbed the wine glass and finished what remained. I pressed the speaker button on the phone, and then snatched some pajama bottoms from the dresser on the other side of the bedroom. I grabbed the empty bottle and then began walking downstairs to the kitchen. I needed a refill. “I mean, maybe it’s because I never asked you, but did you have proof?”

“Yes!”

“Where is this proof?”

“You’re talking to him.”

“You?” I laughed because I didn’t know what else to do.

“Not only can I prove Ryle never raped her, but I can prove the sex she did have was consensual.”

I didn’t want to say what I was thinking, fearing Parker would agree with me. But the thought that all this time Parker may have kept vital information
to himself, when he could’ve divulged all and help Ryle was quite disturbing. But knowing Parker, if he didn’t have good reason to just sit back and watch this play out, he wouldn’t have.

“What did you do, Parks?”

“I didn’t know she would use our encounter to set up Ryle. I was just using her sex to get my mind off everything that was happening between Nigel and me.”

“And you just stood on the sideline and allowed her accusation to stick. You could have saved this man his job and the embarrassment.”

“I couldn’t say anything!” he screamed.

“You could have. What the hell did you have to lose?”

“Nigel.”

We were both silent.

“If I’d said anything then, she would have told Nigel about Kirk,” he added.

“Damn, Parks. This is Samantha you’re talking about. Whether you planned on telling anyone the truth about Ryle or you planned on carrying it to your grave, she was g
oing to tell Nigel regardless.”

“What?”

“Nigel already knows what happened with you and Kirk.”

“How do you know this?”

“I ran into him at Barnes and Noble on Wednesday. And before you ask, no, Keaton wasn’t with him. That’s why he stayed with Courtney, Parks. He was thinking about coming back to you when she told him. He figured you were no different.”

I leaned against the counter and sat the empty bottle next to me. I could only imagine w
hat went through Parker’s mind.

“But our relationship was just about over. No parts of him were in it, not his head, and d
amn sure not his heart.”

“I think you and Nigel need to have a conversation. I know you’re hurting, and it was obvious tonight, he’s hurting too.”

              “Did he tell you where Keaton was?”

             
“No, and I didn’t ask. I just told him he needed to stop using him to punish you. Look, Parks, just call him. I know you think he doesn’t want to hear from you, but after Wednesday, I think he does. If you still think he isn’t going to answer your call, go sit on his steps. Anyway, I think this is a conversation you and him need to have face to face.”

             
“You maybe right.”

             
It was nearly 2:30 a.m. when I finally said goodnight to Parker. My desire to have one more glass of wine had been replaced by my need to sleep. I fell asleep thinking about all the hurt Samantha had caused the people who make the painful mistake of trusting her words. We believed promises she broke easily. I dreamed about her demise, and pictured myself delighting in her impending doom.

 

Twenty-Four

_________

 

It’s About You

 

Kennalyn  

 

 

 

I WAS AS SURPRISED TO GET a phone call from him, as I was at his invitation to join him for dinner. The last time I spoke to Jelani after office hours or an off-work day, he misplaced his file on his laptop and needed access to the backup file I kept on my computer. I should have canceled my regular biweekly appointment at Code Red, but since I didn’t, I stood at the front, inside the upscale salon waiting for the cold drizzle to pass. The last place I wanted to be caught was in the rain. Had I watched the weather forecast that morning before I left the house, or even glimpsed at the overcast sky when I left the house that morning more than three hours earlier, I would have been more than prepared to walk around the corner to the car in the private parking lot.

There was an urgent cry in his voice, and he made it seem like saying yes was my only option. When the rain finally let up, I said my goodbyes to the customers in the salon, including the older lady with the silky gray hair who kept my company as she reminisced about the election, and then to the regulars who had made cutting and curling their hair on Saturday evenings a tradition. I addressed those I knew by name, but the older lady never gave me the opportunity to ask hers. I figured she was rarely listened to, and, boy did she seize all of the ten minutes I stood there giving
her every bit of my attention.

I had an hour to meet Jelani. In the car, I made a quick call to Gage and asked if he could keep Alexis until I was finished running er
rands. I was supposed to pick her up, since she wanted to come home. Of course, he wanted to know what was keeping me from picking her up on time, but since it was none of his damned business, I left it at errands and hung up. It’s not like he had bottles to make and diapers to change. Making sure they did their homework, since I hated when they waited until Sunday to rush through, shower, and give them something to eat, was something he could do with his eyes closed. Plus, I was sure he would be giving his attention to his bimbo, leaving Cody responsible for himself and his sister.

Two huge cypress trees welcomed me to Appetito, a three-story building of bricks reminiscent of old Italy. It boasted Italian cuisine at its finest. Floor-to-ceiling dark wood beams stood on either side and in the middle of the restaurant. Arching, exposed dark oak accented the ceilings. I was impressed with the massive chandeliers of Italian dusk and sandstone glass that hung equidistance, adding to the romantic ambiance that attracted so many to this prestigious restaurant.

I stood in the entrance, and although I did nothing purposely to garner the attention I received, still I got more than I needed. I had changed into a pair of denim slim jeans, grey one shoulder batwing sleeve jumper top, and ruby pumps, since what I wore to the salon wasn’t appropriate dinner attire. I exposed perfectly toned skin from the curve of my shoulders to the tips of my fingers. I kept a few fits in the car for nights like this, plus, I’d be damned if I let Mr. Graybourne see me in the getup I had on earlier. He would have thought I’d slipped and fell into it, ‘cause I wouldn’t have worn something like that on purpose, regardless of what Samantha said. My hair hung to my shoulders in a careful nonchalance.

Jelani sat at the bar with a filled whiskey glass in front of him. It dripped with condensation. He brought the glass to his mouth, and then turned his head in my direction. My guess is he was just following the eyes and gestures of the others who sat at the bar next to him. He froze. When I waved at him, Jelani quickly jumped from the bar stool and walked over to me. He reached for my hands, and when they were finally in his, he leaned in, kissed me on my right cheek and then my left. When the maître d’ approached and confirmed I was the lady Jelani had been waiting for, Jelani placed his hand in the small of my back as we followed the maître d’ to our table. I always thought he was such the gentleman.

We were seated in a corner of the restaurant, which Jelani requested. The table was adorned with expensive Italian dinnerware on white tablecloth.

“May I,” the waiter asked, staring down at me.

He held a chilled bottle of Sanct Valentin in his hand. He filled the champagne glass that sat before Jelani, and then began to fill mine when I permitted. He ordered the wine while he waited on my arrival. He admitted he hadn’t been waiting too long. I opened my menu that sat on the table to our right, and took a glimpse at my choice of Italian specialties. English descriptions with their Italian translation, and everything sounded flavorsome. I was almost overwhelmed, except I had been to that establishment several times before; once for lunch with Parker, a date with Campbell, and another time to celebrate Cody’s birthday.

“So, does the husband know w
here you are? I never heard you talk about him.”

“Then I guess we don’t have to entertain your assumption, right? Good.” I took a sip from the glass. I sat it back on the table and then stared at the contents. “Mr. Graybourne, I’m almost positive we aren’t here to discuss nuptials that may or may not exist.” I took another taste from my glass and placed it back on the table to my left, folded my arms in front of me with my elbows resting on the table, and then leaned in closer. “Now, you invited me to dinner assuming I had some information on Ms. Wells, I’m sure. What exactly is it that you think I might be able to help you with?”
             

“I don’t know much ab
out you,” Mr. Graybourne began.

“Let me fill you in,” I proposed. “I expected your memory to be
much better, Mr. Graybourne.”

“Let’s just say I have
had other things on my mind.”

“That has to be the understatement of the year.”

He smiled.

“So I take it my impending marriage to Samantha isn’t a secret.”

“You couldn’t have expected her to keep that mission a secret, Mr. Graybourne. Sounds to me like you don’t even know the woman who’s wearing your ring.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, looking confused.

It was hard to talk to this man and not stare at him. I could almost understand the lengths any woman would go to be in his presence. He took breaths away and made hearts skip beats without even trying, and it didn’t help that he came from money and power, though he never bragged about it.

“It means you’ve been playing right into her perfect plan, and you don’t even know it.”

Jelani sat back in his chair when the waiter approached and opened his menu. When the waiter asked if we had a chance to browse our menu, I ordered first, like Jelani suggested, choosing the baked clams and broiled salmon scampi. Jelani recited his choice without a hiccup: Crostini di Mozzarella, Cocktail di Gamberi Classico, and Assortimento Caldo. Apparently, he came to eat. After we handed the waiter our menus and he retreated to the kitchen area, we continued out conversation.

“What plan could Samantha have devised?”

“Let me guess. You think everything that has happened since she arrived is pure coincidence. Have you even stopped to think? She’s exact and calculating, and nothing that involves her just happens. They happen because she made sure they did.”

“You talk about her as if she’s Jesus.”

“No. That’s who you think she is. I know better. She’s a manipulative bitch who will do anything to get what she wants. Look! She wanted Mr. Lucas’ job, and she got it. She wanted the large office with the view, as if it was a penthouse in Manhattan overlooking Central Park in the fall, and she made sure that happened. She knew of Ryle’s previous involvement with his client Craig Wilson, and she kept that information to herself. She could have told him, but instead, because she knew it would destroy him, she presented that fact to the prosecutor. She used it only when she knew it would have been beneficial to her.”

Mr. Graybourne sat back in his chair again. He looked confused, as I began to put the pieces of the puzzle together for him.

“And if that wasn’t enough, she drove the final nail in his coffin with a bullshit rape charge. She was only relieved when you gave him the option of quitting or facing a trial. Now, it didn’t strike you as odd that she was so willing not to press charges? That’s because she finally had him out of the way.”

“And Ryle could prove he didn’t rape her?”

“Not only could he prove he didn’t rape her, he could also prove that the man she had sex with wasn’t him.”

“That explained the conversation I overheard on Thursday when I went back to the office to surprise her. She and Ryle were in her office, and I stood there listening to him telling her she was going to tell me she couldn’t marry me. She kept saying ‘turn it off, turn’, but...”

“Then she’s seen his proof. I tried to warn you, Mr. Graybourne,”

“How so? And please, call me Jelani.” He removed his hands from the table, and allowed the waiter the place a large dinner plate in that space.

“There’s something about cronyism that never sits well with me,” I began. Jelani was puzzled, but he suppressed any inclination to interrupt. “I showed up in your office a few years back to interview for a position you advertised. But Mr. Lucas informed me that a friend who was in a very precarious position, needed your help, and that the position had been filled. The friend who walked past me, boxes in hands, to begin her new position as your secretary was Samantha Wells.”             

“But you didn’t know who she was at the time, or did you?”
             

“Unless you had been sleeping under a rock for the last years, you knew who Samantha was.”

“So how did you end up answering phones and scheduling appointments for her?”             


My guess is, she rummaged through several resumes you had on file and selected mine. She even interviewed me herself. After I was hired, she made sure she was the only woman working close to you. She even said you had given your approval. I didn’t question it, because, unbeknownst to her, she was putting me right where I wanted to be. Parker Chandler was given extra duties, extra pay as well, to work closely with me, and well, you know the rest.” I smiled.             

“And how exactly did that work out?”

“Better than Samantha or Parker thought it would?”

“Enlighten me, Ms. Hailey.”

“It’s Ms. Covell. Ms. Kennalyn Covell.”

I stared at him, anticipating his reaction. Jelani sat up in his chair, listening with purpose. His interest in my story had surpassed the hunger I thought consumed him when he gave his order. His long arms stretched across the table, gripping the stem of his wine glass.
             

“Rule number one, Jelani,” I commenced.

He nodded in the affirmative.              

“Know Thy enemy. Rule number two: keep your enemies even closer,” I continued, bringing the glass to my lips again. I looked across the table at Jelani as I drank. I had a pretty good idea what he would say next. Just like a man: so damned predictable.

“So I am correct in saying you know more about Samantha than I suspect? And is this, working for Emanuel, Sullivan and Graybourne, your attempt to keep your enemy close?”

“Mr. Graybourne.”

“I thought we agreed on you calling me Jelani,” he corrected.

“You’re throwing out a fishing line in deep, salt water. I don’t have personal reasons to keep Samantha close to me,” I lied. I wasn’t ready for complete disclosure with him just yet. “You, on the
other hand, knew you couldn’t only keep one eye on her. But it seems like you fell in a deep coma. Samantha is obviously smart and beautiful. Her only anomaly, she is smart and beautiful. You know what women like her are capable of. You were taught well.”             

“Listen, she had an inside man. My take is it’s someone she had something o
n—a bit of information that was sure to ruin them should someone get wind of it.”             

“Let me guess, you want me to be your inside woman?” I laughed. “Don’t you know by now, that’s her mode of operation. And if she has nothing on you, she knows how to make you think she has something on you. Now, unless your nose has been clean, you knew you had nothing to worry about. But like I said, she has her way of getting you dirty. If there’s a single bone in your closet, you’re pretty much screwed. She knows just how to exploit it.”

Until that statement, Jelani admitted he had never thought about Parker and how he might be involved in the tale Samantha had concocted. Parker was more of a “yes, man” than anything else. Jelani reflected on an intentional slip-of-the-tongue Samantha had about Parker being a pitcher and a catcher, and she wasn’t talking about baseball.

“How well have you gotten to know Parker Chandler?”

I thought about not answering him at first.

“It’s not even about how well I know Parker. It’s a matter of how well your fiancé does.”

“What exactly does that mean?”

“Mr. Graybourne,” I paused and smiled. “I’m sorry. Jelani, may I ask you something?

“You can ask me whatever you want.”

“Do you trust Samantha?”

“I think you can answer that question for yourself. It’s safe to say if I trusted her, you and I wouldn’t be here having this conversation, now would we? Now what about Parker?”

Other books

Long Live the Dead by Hugh B. Cave
Saving Mia by Michelle Woods
Swan Peak by James Lee Burke
Tiger Milk by Stefanie de Velasco,
The Scent of Lilacs by Ann H. Gabhart
Death of a Pusher by Deming, Richard
I Heart Band by Michelle Schusterman