FOURTEEN
Two weeks had passed since Neil had discovered the jaw-dropping paperwork in CJ’s office, and every day since the find, he had stared at the shabbily scribbled words, trying to make a decision on what to do next. Neil felt like a common thief, and rightfully so. He had left his best friend’s home with the unauthorized note tucked away in the back of the folder that he had actually gone there to pick up. Every time his phone rang and he saw CJ’s name on the caller ID, he wondered if his crime had been uncovered. When CJ asked him to stop by his office before leaving church last Sunday, Neil was sweating bullets. All CJ wanted to do was invite him and Shaylynn to dinner. The guilt he felt wouldn’t even allow Neil to accept the kind gesture, but as overwhelming as the guilt was, it wasn’t enough to make Neil return the stolen evidence.
“Borrowed ... not stolen.” Neil had been saying that aloud almost every time the thought entered his head. “It’s not stealing as long as I take it back. Which I will. Once I’m done doing ... whatever I’m gonna do with it. I’m just borrowing it.” If he said it enough, maybe he’d be able to convince himself. After all, it couldn’t be all bad. God had led him to this paperwork. He must have. There was just no other explanation. It was only after Neil had prayed for a way to break Emmett’s spell on Shaylynn that this information virtually fell into his lap. It was too much to be coincidental. God’s hands were all over this.
Drug laundering ... prostitution ... you name it ... was unfaithful to his wife during entire marriage. . . loved call girls ... bought women like most men bought suits ... dirty politics ... paid by drug lords ...
The words that Neil stared at were haunting him. “Emmett was scandalous. A liar, a cheat, and a common criminal.” In his dreams, saying such words was a lot more satisfying than doing so in real life. Neil had longed for this chance; the chance to shatter Shaylynn’s image of a perfect man; a man who was the only barrier to her giving him her entire heart. But now that he had all the ammunition that he needed in order to smash the image into smithereens, Neil felt caught between a rock and a hard place. He pulled a peppermint from the dish on his desk, opened the wrapper, and popped the candy in his mouth without once breaking his thoughts.
Whether he outright revealed this newfound information to Shaylynn, or somehow figured out a cunning way to feed it to her without her knowing it was coming from him, the woman he loved would be devastated. And as badly as Neil wanted to put Emmett Ford to rest once and for all, the last thing he wanted was to break Shaylynn’s heart. He just wanted to break the attachment her heart had to this man. There had to be a way to do one without doing the other. But how?
Neil drummed his fingers against the surface of his desk as he thought back to over a year ago. He recalled the day that he’d asked CJ to use his connections as a former law enforcement officer to do some kind of background check on Emmett Ford. Neil knew of the two Jamaican-born men who made up the partnership of Kris-Cross P.I., the name that was scribbled near the bottom of the sketchy notes that CJ had jotted. He was sure that it was Cross—Victor Cross—who CJ had gotten to dig up the information that his eyes had been staring at for days. Victor and CJ were DeKalb County police officers at the same time, and to this day they remained friends. A couple of years after CJ put down his police badge to pick up his clergy collar, Victor had left his public servant’s position as well, and had joined his cousin, Kristoff Nain, in a private detective agency that they called Kris-Cross P.I. And Neil knew that if CJ asked Victor to do a little personal snooping for him, he would have done it, and all the barely legible scribbles on the paper were proof that he’d sniffed out a mile-long trail of stench.
Neil also remembered the day that CJ called to inform him that he had, in fact, discovered some not-so-pleasant essentials about the former Mayor Emmett Ford, but by then CJ’s conscience had kicked in, and he’d told Neil that he wasn’t going to help him destroy Shaylynn’s loving memories just to satisfy his insecurities. CJ said God wouldn’t be pleased with Neil’s self-serving, merciless mission. He’d said if Neil and Shaylynn’s relationship was truly God-ordained, it would blossom righteously and without the mudslinging. “God is not the author of confusion,” he’d said more than once. And, as was usual in most cases like these, CJ had been right, and once Neil won Shaylynn’s heart on his own merit, he’d forgotten about CJ’s confession to finding fault in the man Shaylynn thought was so ideal.
Neil had remained confident and sure of himself until recent months. Until lately, hearing Emmett’s name slip into a conversation every now and then was no big issue, but now, every single mention of him was like claw-length fingernails against a chalkboard, and the demons Neil thought he’d conquered had returned, and with them they seemed to have brought reinforcements. He hated what this was doing to him. Neil wished that he could just be the bigger man and overlook it like the rest of the world seemed to think he should so easily be able to do, but he couldn’t. This eternal love that Shaylynn had for her former husband was one of the most frustrating things Neil had ever dealt with in all his life, and it was impossible to pretend that all was well. Emmett had to go. Plain and simple.
A sudden knocking noise was accompanied by the words, “Knock-knock. Are you busy? Can I come in?”
Neil choked on the remains of the peppermint in his mouth when he heard Shaylynn’s voice, which seemed to come out of nowhere. He looked up to see her standing in the doorway of his office, knocking on the doorframe. Neil couldn’t speak. The sounds of several hard coughs echoed off the walls of his office as his body attempted to clear his windpipe. Gaining some level of control, he inconspicuously turned the unauthorized document face down on his desk.
“Are you okay?” Shalylynn’s voice amplified her concern. She rushed inside, tossed her handbag on his credenza, and headed to the water cooler alongside the wall, where she filled a small cup and delivered it to him. “Here. Drink some of this.”
Neil’s brown skin had turned a shade of red. It was more from shame than the lack of oxygen. He took several swallows from the cup, and then managed to croak out a “Thank you,” before downing the remaining fluid. Even in his near-strangling state, Neil took note of how nice Shaylynn looked in her charcoal grey scoop-neck sweater, black wool wide-leg capri pants, and long, high-heeled grey boots. She topped it off with the coat he’d bought her for Christmas, and the ensemble looked like something straight out of a fashion catalogue. The only thing that kept it from being a flawless image was the all-too-familiar silver chain around her neck. Although it hung too low inside her sweater for him to see the ring that was suspended on the end of it, he knew it was there.
Shaylynn took the cup from his hand and quickly refilled it. “Did I startle you? I’m sorry.” She handed the full cup back to him.
Neil shook his head in a silent lie, and then made the untruth verbal. “You didn’t. I was eating.” At least that part was true. He cleared his throat and pointed at the glass dish where he stored his favorite candy. “It went down the wrong way, that’s all.”
“Well, you were certainly engrossed in whatever you were looking at when I first arrived. I stood at the door and watched you for a minute before I said anything. You were looking so intense that I started to just back away and leave. What are you working on?” Shaylynn reached for the single sheet of paper, but Neil’s hand became a bullet. When he slammed his palm against the paper to prevent her from turning it, Shaylynn was clearly taken aback.
“Sorry... .” Neil’s mind searched for words to justify his desperate reaction. “It’s confidential.” When she looked like she wasn’t quite convinced, he cleared his throat and added, “This is information that CJ found out about ... a parent of one of the children here. The father of one of our students has ... a criminal history, and it’s something that has to be kept private.”
The doubt that was once on Shaylynn’s face was quickly replaced by alarm. “Criminal history? So what does that mean? Does that put the children here at risk?”
Neil knew that the bulk of her worry was directed at only one of the children at Kingdom Builders Academy. Shaylynn had to be one of the most overly protective parents he’d ever met. “No, suga.” Neil smiled, partially because he was glad that the explanation that his racing brain had to come up with on such short notice was actually an honest one. “The children are in no danger. For one, the crime he committed is something that happened a long time ago, and secondly, the child’s father is ... well, he doesn’t live anywhere near here. It’s just some old news that was brought to our attention that has to be kept confidential.” When Neil saw Shaylynn nod her understanding, he stepped closer to her and used his hands to brush back her braids. “You know that I’d never let anything happen to Chase, right?”
She smiled up at him, and Neil felt every muscle in his body tighten when she gently ran her hands up, and then down his arms. He’d determined a long time ago that his arms were two of her favorite things on his body to touch. His defined biceps were inherited blessings that had been passed along by his father. The natural shape of Neil’s arms was deceiving. He seldom did any weight training during his gym visits.
“I know.” Her soft reply did nothing to calm his rampant emotions.
By the way she looked at him, Neil knew that she wanted him to kiss her, and he was all too happy to deliver. His lips were another part of his body that he’d concluded were among her favorites. Every time Neil kissed Shaylynn, he literally felt as if he had to hold her up under the pressure. Her body almost became limp upon impact. Knowing he had that effect on her made him feel seven feet tall. He pulled her closer as his lips continued to explore hers, so close that Neil felt like their two bodies were becoming one; like a passionate rapture had taken place and wherever they now were, there was no one else within miles.
“A-hem!”
The exaggerated throat clearing noise proved that Neil’s far-away fantasy had been just that—a fantasy. Neil was far more annoyed than embarrassed at being caught in the act. He grudgingly released Shaylynn and took a few steps backward before looking in the direction of his door. Neil’s disdain for Margaret’s bad timing was obvious. “Yes, Ms. Dasher?”
“Well hello, Ms. Ford.” Margaret walked into the office space holding a message pad in her hand. She temporarily ignored both Neil and his look of annoyance. “I didn’t realize you were in here.”
“Hi, Ms. Dasher.” Shaylynn looked embarrassed enough for both of them. She used her fingers to wipe away the moisture that Neil’s kiss had left on her lips. “You weren’t at your desk when I arrived, so I just let myself in. I did sign the visitor sheet that was on the counter, though.”
“You didn’t have to sign in,” Neil told her. He lifted her chin with his index finger, forcing her to look at him. “And you don’t have to be embarrassed, either. At least you knocked, which is more than I can say for some people.” He darted a glance toward Margaret after saying that part.
“Well, some people work here,” Margaret replied with more than a little sarcasm. “And every day, ten minutes before the dismissal bell, some people come in to check with you to see if there are any last-minute tasks that she needs to do before leaving for the day. Some people don’t usually have to knock, so she didn’t think she had to knock today either.”
Shaylynn fidgeted, and then said, “I’m going to go and—”
“No.” Neil caught her by the arm. “You don’t have to leave, Shay.”
“Of course you don’t,” Margaret said. “It’s a workplace, but we don’t have to work if we don’t want to. And by all means, please don’t leave on account of me, because if Dr. Taylor doesn’t have anything for me to do, I just need to give him a couple of phone messages, and I can get out of your way. Y’all can go right on back to doing ... whatever.”
Neil balled his hand into a fist and squeezed hard. Where was that stress ball when he needed it?
“No, it’s not that.” Shaylynn gathered her purse from Neil’s credenza. “I didn’t realize it was so close to the dismissal bell. I need to get to Chase’s class and sign him out before all of the students are released and the halls get congested.” She looked at Neil, and he was sure that he saw tears in her eyes. That angered him even more. “I’ll see you later,” she concluded.
“Okay.” Neil leaned forward and brushed his lips against her cheek. He wanted to say more; so much more. Not to Shaylynn, but to Margaret. He had to remind himself of where he was, and who Shaylynn was. She wasn’t just his lady; she was the mother of one of Kingdom Builders Academy’s students. Neil couldn’t act out of emotion. Not in front of a parent, anyway. “I’ll call you later this evening,” he whispered. “I love you.”
Shaylynn struggled to smile. “I love you too.” As she walked away from his desk and out the door, she avoided eye contact with Margaret.
Margaret looked at the door that Shaylynn closed behind her exit. “Well, you have a nice day too, Ms. Ford.”
Neil didn’t know whether Shaylynn had chosen to close the door because she figured whatever business he and Margaret were about to discuss should be kept private, or because she’d picked up on Neil’s enormous displeasure and knew that he would probably lay into his assistant as soon as he knew she was out of listening range. Either way, she was right.
“Ms. Dasher—”
“Dr. Taylor, I know what you’re thinking, but before you speak, let me just say—”
“No.” Neil’s finger was as stiff as his tone when he pointed to the only chair in his office that was exiled in a corner near the door. “You sit, and I’ll do the talking.” The iron folding chair was in an area by itself for a reason. Because of its red color, it was commonly called the hot seat, and that wasn’t a compliment. The chair didn’t get used very often, but when it did, it always meant someone was in trouble. The only time it was ever occupied was on the rare occasion when a student’s disruptive behavior got to be too much for the teacher, and the child had to be sent to Neil for reinforcement. Children were known to cry at the very mention of having to sit in that chair. Sitting in the hot seat generally meant that a sentence of detention was about to be handed down.
When parents or administrators were called to Neil’s office for whatever reason, they had the privilege of sitting in one or both of the comfortable, black leather chairs that were positioned directly in front of his desk. Today was a historic day. Margaret had just set a record that no other administrator would dare want to break.
With some hesitation, she obeyed Neil’s order and eased in the chair. She squirmed a bit, like she was trying to find a comfortable position for her full behind on the modest-sized, hard surface. “Can I just say something?” She raised her finger like a child in a classroom setting.
“No.” Neil was unyielding. “I’ve listened to what you’ve had to say about Shay and the things you’ve had to say about us as a couple. I know you don’t agree with it, but guess what, Ms. Dasher? You don’t have to.” Neil was standing just a few feet from her as he spoke. He was giving her the same menacing stare that he had given all the unruly children who had sat there before her. “This is my life, and she’s the woman I love. Now you can take it or leave it. I can’t make you like Shay, but you will respect her. That’s something that I demand.”
Margaret’s eyes shot up at him as if to say, “You demand?”
And as if he’d heard her eyes, Neil said, “That’s right.”
A level of deep concern etched its way on to Margaret’s face. “What are you saying? Are you telling me that my job is in jeopardy?”
Neil’s brows furrowed. “Of course not. I wouldn’t fire you because you don’t like Shay. That would be unethical. Your job isn’t in any danger, but that’s a heck of a lot more than I can say for our friendship.”
“What?” Margaret stood.
“Sit!”
Margaret sat.
“We’ve known each other for a long time.” Neil tried to soften his tone, but his insides were still raging. “And I value our friendship and our work relationship. I admit that I’m guilty of entertaining your opinions and even allowing you to make judgment calls on a lot of things that, quite frankly, aren’t your business. But here and now, I’m drawing the line at Shaylynn Ford. Do you understand me? That means you don’t get to talk to or about her in any cynical or snide manner. What you just said to her was out of order, and it was your last time doing it. If you want to continue any kind of cordial relationship with me outside of an employer/ employee one, then that’s the way it’s gonna have to be from this point forward. Period.”
“I have on my hearing aid today. You don’t have to yell.”
It was an exaggeration. Neil knew he wasn’t yelling, but he also knew that the edge in his voice was sharper than normal. “She’s in my life to stay, Ms. Dasher. I’m not saying your opinion doesn’t matter to me; I’m just saying it doesn’t matter when it comes to Shay. And I don’t ever plan to have this conversation with you again.”
The dismissal bell rang, and it seemed to serve as the end of their fight; or at least the end of round one.
A few moments of silence passed before Margaret cleared her throat and asked, “Can I please get out of this chair? It’s not made for butts like mine.”
Neil rolled his eyes, and then turned to walk back to his desk. Stand up ... sit down ... he didn’t care what she did, but he’d meant every word he’d said, so a lot was riding on the words that would come out of her mouth. Neil stood behind his desk and slipped the paper with all of CJ’s scribbles back in the red folder he’d taken it out of, and then placed the folder in his briefcase. As he began clicking on the icons to shut down his computer, he could hear Margaret’s heels clicking against the floor as she approached his desk with caution.
“I’m sorry if I have offended you, Dr. Taylor. That wasn’t my intent.” She sounded genuine. “I just need you to understand that my reaction to Ms. Ford isn’t without basis. She seems nice enough, as a person she’s probably a delight. I just believe she’s not the person for you, and as your friend, I think it would be wrong for me to feel that way and not tell you.”
Neil stood as straight and as tall as he could. “What the ...” He bit his tongue and started again. “How do you know what’s right for me? Who do you think you are to draw that kind of conclusion?”
Margaret released a soft sigh. “I didn’t pull that out of thin air, Dr. Taylor. I’m drawing that conclusion as a direct result of what she’s doing to you. I told you before that it pains me to see what dating her has done to you. You’re so unhappy.”
Anger was rising in Neil once more. “That’s not true! I’ve never been more in love with any woman than I am with Shay. And whether you believe it or not, she makes me very happy.”
“Yeah ... today.” Margaret flung her arms in the air, and then allowed them to drop back by her sides. “You’re happy today, and you’ve been happy for the past couple of weeks; I’ll give you that. But what about tomorrow? What about next week? You’re talking more and more like you might eventually settle down with her. Marriage is supposed to be forever, Dr. Taylor. So, what about the rest of your life? Huh? Does she make you the kind of happy that will last for the rest of your life?”
“Yes!” Neil slammed his fist against his desk, an action he immediately regretted when the aftermath of severe pain radiated through his wrist and up to his elbow. “Ugh!” He shook his arm in an attempt to fling away the pain. “Sit down, Ms. Dasher. Just sit down and listen to me for a minute, okay?” It was a directive that was far less harsh than the one that had banished her to the hot seat. Neil thought hard for a way to try to explain himself to his motherly assistant once and for all.
Margaret sat in one of the chairs situated in front of Neil’s desk. She looked at the watch on her wrist, but didn’t seem to be in any real hurry to leave. “I didn’t mean to make you hurt your hand,” she mumbled.
“See, that’s it,” Neil said. “That’s a good way to clarify it to you right there.” Margaret looked confused, but he kept talking. “Don’t you see? You didn’t make me hurt my hand. I hurt my hand because of the way I reacted to what you said. You said something that annoyed me, and my knee-jerk reaction was to hit the desk, and because I made that choice, I hurt my hand. It isn’t your fault, and nobody should blame you for that.”
“Okay ...” She still looked puzzled.
“That’s the way it is with Shay,” Neil explained. “You’re blaming her for how I’m reacting to stuff, and that’s not fair.” He massaged his arm, from his wrist to his elbow, as he sat in his chair. “You were right the other week when you implied that I’ve been on an emotional rollercoaster ever since I’ve been dating her, but that’s not her fault. On the days when my rollercoaster is on the downward slope, it’s because of the way I’m reacting to a situation that she probably has no clue about. How I act is my way of dealing with the issue, and you can’t rightfully blame her for that. I’ve never loved a woman more than I love Shaylynn Ford, and I don’t think a woman has ever loved me as much as she does. There are just some ... things ... that I’m struggling to work though.”
“Things that involve her?”
“Yes. They involve her, but they’re not her fault.”
Margaret scooted forward in her chair. “Then why don’t you talk to her?”
Talk to her. There it was again. If Neil didn’t know any better, he’d think that at some point, on one of Homer Burgess’s good days, the old deacon had gotten together with CJ, Theresa, and Margaret, and they’d all agreed to throw that line at him at the first available opportunity.
“Talk to her about what?” Neil heard himself ask. “This isn’t her problem; it’s mine.”
“If whatever it is involves her in any way whatsoever, then it’s both your problem,” Margaret said. “You see that, don’t you?”
Neil looked at his watch. “Why don’t you go on home,” he told her. “I’ve already kept you past your time.”
“Is this your way of avoiding any further conversation about this?”
Neil nodded truthfully. “Pretty much.”
Margaret stood. “Fine.” She turned to walk away, and then turned back to Neil. “Are we still friends?”
“That’s up to you.”
“Then the answer is yes. I’ll apologize to Ms. Ford first chance I get.”
Neil was impressed by her willingness. “I’d appreciate that, and I’m sure Shay would as well.”
“Yeah. Now that you’ve explained everything, I’ll stop taking it out on her and start taking it out on you. How’s that?”
Neil couldn’t help but laugh. She wouldn’t be Margaret if she decided to stay out of it all together. “Deal.”
“Oh.” Margaret looked down at the notepad she was still holding in her hand. “You had two calls that I came in here to tell you about. One was from Sister Teena. She said she needs you to call her, but she said that it wasn’t an emergency, so there’s no need for alarm.”
“Okay.” Neil had planned to call Teena today anyway. He hadn’t spoken to her or Deacon Burgess since he’d seen them both in church last Sunday. “What’s the other message?”
“No message, but you had a call from a man named Sean Thomas.”
Neil tilted his head to the side. “Sean Thomas?”
“Don’t waste your brain cells, he said you didn’t know him. He didn’t leave a phone number or anything; said he just wanted to be sure that he had called the right place of employment for you. He said he’d connect with you at a later time.”
“He didn’t say what he wanted?”
“No. Just that he’d catch up with you later.”
Neil stood up from his chair and reached for his hat that sat on the credenza. “Well, I guess it couldn’t have been too important.”
“You’re headed out too?”
“Yeah. Nothing else here that can’t wait ’til tomorrow. I’ll call Ms. Teena en route. That way, if she needs me to stop by or anything, I can just swing by Deac’s place before going home.”
Margaret began walking away. “Okay. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Bright and early,” Neil replied.
She opened his office door, but stopped short of walking out. Turning to face him again, Margaret said, “Remember what I said. Talk to Ms. Ford. You can’t expect to get the closure or the results you want if you’re not willing to talk about it.”
Neil didn’t reply as she made her exit. As he slipped into his coat, he thought about the red folder that he’d shoved in his briefcase. He had to disagree with Margaret on that one. What he wanted was to end Shaylynn’s love affair with Emmett Ford, and as the old saying went, there was more than one way to skin a cat.