CHAPTER 34
“Please, please everyone take a seat. Let’s get today’s meeting started,” Dee Dee said, sitting down.
She took deep, long breaths, trying to mute her anger. Control. Keep it under control.
“The first issue I would like to bring to the table is our photo shoot last week with Essence magazine. As you know, the first session at the salon went smoothly, but the second session, in the studio, was a disaster,” Dee Dee said, her eyes concentrating on Theresa. “Now I want to know why I received a call from the editor telling me how unprofessional and unorganized we were.”
Dee Dee looked around the room at each staff member. She didn’t mention how the editor threatened to remove them from the magazine altogether, and how she had to plead with the woman and guarantee that it would never happen again. No, she didn’t tell them that. All they needed to know was that she was pissed, and wanted answers.
“So who wants to go first?”
“I’m sorry, Dee Dee,” Theresa said. “This was all my fault. Somehow the models got the wrong time—”
“Somehow? What do you mean somehow?” Dee Dee asked, her voice clipped.
“Well, someone called them and told them a different time.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“I see. So you’re saying someone called all ten of the models and told them to come two hours later? Wouldn’t it be more logical to assume that you made a mistake and told them the wrong time?”
She listened to Theresa struggling for an acceptable answer.
“That could be it, Dee Dee, but I’m almost positive that I didn’t do it.”
“Almost is never good enough, Theresa. You know better than that. They also said that you bribed the photographer, which made us go $2,000 over budget. And that’s not to mention extra studio time that I had to pay for. Can you explain that to me, Theresa?”
“Dee Dee, I didn’t want to further compromise the shoot, so I felt I had to do something to get the photographer to stay. I apologize for that, but as far as the models, I honestly don’t know who could have called them and told them to come at a later time.”
“Yeah, right,” Yolanda mumbled.
“Excuse me?” Theresa said.
“Did you have anything to add, Yolanda?” Dee Dee asked, her cold brown eyes piercing through her like a laser.
“It just seems like that she’s making excuses. I mean, it just looks like she isn’t woman enough to admit she made a mistake,” Yolanda said.
“You the last person who should be talking about anybody looking like a woman, you flat-chested—”
“That’s enough,” Dee Dee said. “I will not tolerate any more mistakes like this. I cannot afford it. Meeting adjourned so I can finish fixing this mess.”
* * *
“Dee Dee, your husband’s downstairs. He’s on his way up.”
She sighed.
‘“Thanks, Beverly.”
What is he doing here? I’m not in the mood for surprises…
“Come in,” Dee Dee said when she heard his knock.
“Hey, baby,” Jonathan said, walking in with flowers.
“Nice flowers. Are they for me?”
“Of course. A dozen white calla lilies, your favorite.”
“They’re beautiful,” she said, taking them from him and setting them on her desk. His hand grazed hers, and she jerked away as if she had been burned.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“I disgust you that much that I can’t even touch you?”
Exactly. Just looking at you makes me sick to my stomach.
“No, Jonathan,” she said sighing. “What do you want?”
“I just wanted to see my wife.”
“That’s all? You could see me at home.”
“One would think so, but you hide yourself in that room of yours—”
“Do we have to discuss this right now?”
“Just tell me this, Dee Dee. How long are we gonna sleep in separate bedrooms?”
She looked down and twisted her platinum wedding band around her finger.
Finally, she said, “It’s only a temporary situation.”
“Temporary? It’s been going on since Michael died. I don’t know about you, but that’s more than temporary.”
“You’re the last person on earth who can give me demands. I’ll move back in the bedroom when I’m good and ready and not a minute before. If I ever move back in.”
He dropped his head.
When he looked back up, tears were in his eyes.
“When will you let this go? When are you gonna forgive me for Michael?”
Dee Dee looked away. How could this man have hurt me so much? I don’t know him anymore. I don’t know if I want to know him anymore.
She looked back at him. He’s so handsome. I used to feel so special to be Mrs. Jonathan Townsend.
His skin was a deep brown, the color of melted chocolate drizzled on an ice cream sundae. His eyes were dark and mysterious and left all the ladies wanting more.
But Dee Dee knew more. Much more. And she hated him, this handsome man that was her husband. Hated him with as much passion as she had once loved him.
“I can’t talk about this right now. You’ve picked the wrong time to bring this subject up—”
“When is the right time?”
“Jonathan…”
“I’m just saying that we still have a lot going for us. Don’t throw all this away.”
“I’ll take that into consideration.”
He turned to leave. “You’re so cold, Dee Dee. Where’s your heart?”
“It’s gone. It left the day you killed Michael.”
He stepped back as if he had been slapped. He walked out of her office, closing the door behind him.