She didn’t want to be ungrateful, but she needed Randy to get the hell out of the house. It was sweet of him to stay with her at the hospital for those two nights, but now that she was out, she had some serious business to take care of that he couldn’t be privy to.
“Oh, snap, I’ve had this for a minute. I can’t believe I forgot to give it to you,” a grinning Randy said, coming into the living room with a gift-wrapped package. He placed it on the table next to the couch where Cheryl was lying.
Cheryl gave him a withering look, and then picked up a magazine that was also on the table, and started flipping through it.
“Um, aren’t you going to open it?”
Instead of answering, Cheryl took a sip of her Ethiopian Fancy coffee, turned another page, and made believe she was suddenly engrossed by an article on Kendall Jenner. She had been super nice to Randy since coming to at the hospital, not wanting to push him back into the arms of Miss Skank, but now she had to try a different tactic. She simply had to get him out of the apartment.
“Cheryl, is there something wrong?”
Cheryl rolled her eyes and continued to ignore him.
“Babe?”
Cheryl finally put the magazine down and stared at Randy. “We really haven’t talked about what happened—”
“Babe, I apologized.” Randy lowered his eyes, and started wringing his hands together. “I felt sorry for her. She had nowhere to go after Yusef put her out, and it was really my fault that they fought in the first place.”
“Why? You didn’t rape her. She lay down like a woman, and you took it like a man.” Cheryl put down the magazine and crossed her arms over her chest. “Yusef threw her out because of what she did, not what you did. I’m the one who was hurt over what you did.”
“I know, Cheryl,” Randy said, in a voice barely above whisper.
“And I can’t believe you actually got Brent and Mila to lie for you.” Cheryl shook her head. “Do you know how embarrassing all of this is for me?” She sighed and turned her head. “Thank God, Stephen somehow managed to keep all of this from the media. Bet you won’t ask what good is he anymore.”
Randy nodded dismally. “I’m sorry I hurt you, and I know I’ve said it before, but it’s never going to happen again.”
“Yes, you have said it before. And I believed you.” Cheryl let out a big sigh. “And you actually have the nerve to expect me to believe, again, you’re never going to see Sexy, huh? How big an idiot do you expect me to be?”
“I don’t think you’re an idiot at all, Cheryl. I think you’re a woman who loves me, and knows, deep down, that while I messed up big time, I really love you, too.”
“And I guess you love Sexy, too, huh?” Cheryl said sadly.
“Naw, babe.” Randy shook his head. “I admit I had it bad for her, but I don’t love her.”
“Then how could you have done this to me?” Cheryl demanded.
“I don’t know, I really don’t know. I tried not to do it.” Randy’s shoulders slumped. “She, I don’t know, she—”
“She what? She sucked your dick so good you had to go back for more?” Cheryl’s voice turned shrill. “The pussy was so good you had to go back and hit it again?”
“Cheryl, no!”
“Then what was it?” Cheryl said, jumping up from the couch.
“I don’t know,” Randy said, tears in his voice. “She was sweet. Very sweet.”
“Sexy? Sweet? You’ve got to be kidding.” Cheryl started laughing. “Boy, she’s got you fooled.”
“And, she kinda, well, she kinda reminds me of you,” Randy continued, as if he hadn’t heard Cheryl’s sarcastic remarks.
Reminds him of me? Cheryl gasped. Once again she was face-to-face with the fact that her rival was her daughter. Covering her face with her hands, she sank back down on the couch and started crying.
“Oh, babe, I’m so sorry. I’m only saying that the close resemblance might have been part of the attraction, that’s all,” Randy said, trying unsuccessfully to pull her into his arms.
Instead of comforting her, the words made her cry even harder. He was going to leave her for her daughter; she absolutely knew it. Of course, she could prevent it by simply telling him the whole truth. Tell him that Sexy was only seventeen. Tell him that Sexy was her child. That’s it!
“Randy, I’m so miserable,” she said, falling into his arms.
“I know, babe, I know,” he said, rubbing her back.
“No, you don’t know.” Cheryl sat up, then wiped her eyes. “Randy, there’s something that I should have told you, but . . . but, I couldn’t bring myself to.”
“What, babe?”
No. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him the truth. She couldn’t take the chance that he might leave her. “Well, you know how we’ve been trying to have a baby?”
Randy gasped. “Cheryl, you’re pregnant? Oh, honey!”
Cheryl shook her head frantically. “No, you don’t understand.” She took a deep breath before continuing her lie. “I thought I was. My period was three days late, and I was so thrilled. But then—” She started crying again. “But then it came down suddenly. The same night I was waiting for you to come home. I was so depressed I thought I would die. I needed you to comfort me, Randy, and I waited all night for you to come home. But instead I got that mean phone call from . . . from, you know who.”
“Oh, Cheryl.” Randy’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Cheryl, I’m so sorry.”
Cheryl sobbed. “I think that’s why I went so crazy that night, not only because of you cheating on me, but because I was so depressed about not being pregnant with your child. There’s nothing more that I want than to have your baby; you know that. And the two things simply pushed me over the edge.”
“Oh, my God, oh my God.” Randy grabbed her in his arms and started rocking back and forth. “Cheryl, can you ever forgive me?”
The only thing breaking the silence in the room for the next few minutes was the sound of sobs—genuine weeping from Randy, well-rehearsed crying from Cheryl.
“Wait a minute,” Randy said, gently unfolding his arms from around Cheryl and reaching for his phone. He quickly scrolled through his contacts, tapped the send button, and then tapped another button to set the phone on speaker.
“Hey, Randy!” Sexy’s voice came through loud and clear. “I’ve been texting, calling and leaving voice messages for you for the last two days. What’s going on?”
“Sexy,” Randy said in a solemn voice. “I’m calling you to tell you that I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to see you again.”
“What?” Sexy shouted. “What the hell are you talking about? You—” Her voice suddenly lowered. “Wait a minute. Is Cheryl there? Are you saying all of this for her benefit? Don’t worry. Go right on talking, and then when you get by yourself, call me back and tell me what’s going on.”
Randy let out a deep breath. “It’s not like that, Sexy. Cheryl is here, but I’m not calling for her benefit; it was my idea to give you a call.”
Cheryl grinned happily.
“Randy, is Cheryl listening? Is she coaching you on what to say?”
“I’m not going to lie; she is listening, but she’s not coaching me,” Randy said impatiently. “I was wrong to get involved with you, and it’s not going to happen again. I love my wife, and I’m going to devote my time to her and the family we’re starting. I think it’s best you go on back home to Philadelphia and get on with your own life, because we’re getting on with ours. You take care of yourself, and I wish you the best.”
And with that, he hung up. “I love you, babe, and I’m never going to hurt you again,” he said, kissing Cheryl.
“What say we get busy trying to get that family started again?” Cheryl said in a husky voice.
* * *
It was three o’clock before Randy had rested up from an hour of passionate lovemaking and headed to Madison Avenue to meet with his agent and executives from Coca-Cola. Against both Cheryl’s and his agent’s urging for him to take the Pepsi deal, Randy had remained true to his principles and had accepted the lesser sum of money offered by Coca-Cola—the beverage he actually preferred to drink.
“Stephen,” she said as soon as she got her friend on the phone. “I’m back. What’s been going on?”
“Girl, if you weren’t my best friend, I’d hang up on you.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I love you, too,” Cheryl said with a little chuckle. “I want to thank you for everything. I’m fine, now. And I’m sorry, etcetera, etcetera. Now, can we simply move on?”
Stephen sucked his teeth. “No, we can’t. Do you know how much trouble I had covering all that shit up? Not to mention how much of the Yankees money I had to spread around to make sure nobody saw or heard what they actually saw and heard.”
“Um, hundreds?” Cheryl couldn’t suppress a giggle.
“Hmph! Try thousands.”
“Oh, damn!”
“Oh, yeah. And the boys in the big offices sure don’t find it as amusing as you seem to,” Stephen said with a huff. “You’d better be glad that young country boy is such a hot commodity. He sure as hell better not go into a batting slump this season.”
“Stephen, I’m sorry.” The contriteness in Cheryl’s voice was genuine. “I guess I was trying to pretend it was all funny because I’m so embarrassed. But you know all the shit I was going through.”
“Well, no, I don’t,” Stephen snipped. “I know that somehow you found out that Randy and Sexy were together, but the Cheryl I know wouldn’t have suffered a nervous breakdown over that. Care to expound?”
With a sigh, Cheryl told all. Well, not all. She omitted that she was responsible for Jocko being murdered. She left out that Sexy was her daughter. But she did tell him about the telephone call she’d received from the girl.
“She actually said that,” Stephen said with a gasp. “She actually said, ‘Yeah, I fucked your husband to sleep; do you wanna hear my man snore,’?”
“That’s an exact quote,” Cheryl said bitterly. It hurt recounting the episode, but she at least owed Stephen that. “See why I went the fuck off?”
“Oh, hell yeah,” Stephen all but yelled. “I probably would have gone off worse if some bitch called and told me that about my man.” He paused a moment, then added in a concerned tone: “Are you really okay now, honey? I wanted to visit you in the nut house—”
“It wasn’t the nut house,” Cheryl snapped. “It was New York-Presbyterian, the most prestigious hospital in the city.”
“Uh huh, and how was the food in the nut ward?”
“Fuck you, Stephen,” Cheryl said, laughing. “It was only two days, and I did need a break. So, anyway,” she said, now serious. “What did I miss? What’s been going on?”
“Nothing. Same as usual. Yankees on top, Mets at the bottom. All is right with the world,” Stephen said in a bored voice.
“Well,” Cheryl said slowly, “anything new on the Jocko front?”
“No, he’s still dead.”
“Very funny. Have they found out who did it?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t been following the papers.”
Cheryl grimaced. She had actually gone through the two days’ worth of newspapers piled in front of their apartment door when she and Randy had returned home, but there was no mention of anything. But the fact was that the apprehension of a hit-and-run driver of a non-descript Black man in Washington Heights might not make the paper, unless it was a slow news day. “But, you being a PR guy and having all kinds of sources in the media, you haven’t been able to find out anything?”
“Can’t say that I’ve tried. Why are you so interested, anyway?”
“I’m not really. Simply wondering, that’s all.” Now what do I do? “Listen, I gotta go. I’ll give you a call later.”
Normally, Cheryl was a bubble-bath person, but she was too worried to even think about relaxing. All she could think about as the water from the shower cascaded over her body was whether Dwayne Ligon had been caught, and whether she was going to be arrested. She badly wanted to call him, but the many episodes of Law & Order she’d watched over the years cautioned her that to do so might give her away. They always found out who hired the contract killer by pulling his phone logs to find out what calls he received before and after the murder, and then traced the number.
The best thing to do, she decided as she dressed in a stylish blue pants suit, was to call him from a pay phone. And not one in her neighborhood. And to use gloves so that they couldn’t pull fingerprints from the telephone or the coins.
Cheryl was heading out the door when she spied the gift-wrapped present that Randy had placed on the coffee table earlier; she’d forgotten all about it. Now her curiosity got the best of her. Besides, she could use a little pick-me-up. She sat down, placing her shoulder bag on the couch next to her, and eagerly tore open the wrapping.
She gasped when she saw it. A pink Prada Saffiano Lux tote! And she’d never seen one with metal studs and stones. She’d never seen one for less than $2,500, and this one had to be even more. Cheryl gently caressed the bag, then brought it to her face and inhaled the soft leather. She had bags, but none this beautiful, or this expensive. She dashed back into the bedroom and quickly changed her clothes, putting on an ivory dress with pink accents that perfectly matched her new acquisition. She topped it off with a wide-brimmed sun hat and a pair of Prada sunglasses and headed out the door; her mood greatly lightened, she was now sure of the success of her mission.
God, I love Randy, she thought as she drove up Lexington Avenue. And not only because of all his gifts, all his money, and all the luxuries he provided her; and not even because he loved her more than any man she’d ever known. She loved him for him. He had his faults and weaknesses, of course, but he was basically a good man. He was loving, considerate, sincere, a damn good husband—at least until that damn Sexy showed up in their lives.
Spotting a pay phone near a very rare parking space a few feet away, Cheryl pulled over. She adjusted her sunglasses, slipped on her lightweight gloves, and grabbed her new bag and hopped out the car. Taking a deep breath, she walked toward the phone. She was about to insert the necessary coins when she noticed a woman window-shopping sporting the same Prada bag she had on her arm. Same color, and same unusual metal studs and stones. Cheryl smiled to herself. Maybe someone else was lucky enough to have as generous a husband as her. The smile, however, suddenly contorted into a furious scowl when the woman turned and faced her. It was Sexy.
Slamming down the telephone receiver so hard she almost broke it, she stomped toward her. Sexy didn’t see her until she was only a few steps away. Instead of backing away or cowering, Sexy looked at her with a wicked smile and said: “Nice bag.”
Cheryl stopped in her tracks, speechless for perhaps the first time in her life. And as bad as she wanted to slap the girl, she was paralyzed. And she was uncertain as to why.
Sexy, for her part, seemed to be enjoying the situation. “Why, Cheryl, fancy seeing you in my new neighborhood. I was planning to give your friend, Stephen, a call to get a contact list for all the players’ wives so I could invite them over for my housewarming. Wait until you see the apartment Randy rented for me. And the furniture is simply to die for. Are you available, say, next Sunday?”
Instead of answering, Cheryl smiled and reached into her now hated new tote bag, and pulled out her cell phone. “Hey, Randy, baby. How’s it going?”
“Fine, babe, I’m on my way home to you now. Do you need me to pick something up for you?”
“No, sweetie, I’m out myself. In fact, would you believe I ran into Sexy? She wants to know if we’re available next Sunday to attend a housewarming for the apartment you rented for her.”
There was a pause, then: “Cheryl, I was going to tell you—”
“No, I didn’t tell her. Should I? Oh, okay.” Cheryl grinned and pulled the phone from her ear. “Sexy, Randy said to tell you that he’s already called the landlord to find out how much he has to pay to break the lease, and he suggests that you start moving out by this weekend. I suppose there’ll be no housewarming next weekend, huh?” Cheryl struggled hard to hide the grin that was battling to make itself known. Sexy’s emotions, on the other hand, were evident on her face. She was furious.
“Do you want to talk to him?” Cheryl asked, holding the phone toward the girl.
“No, thanks, I’ll be seeing him later this evening,” Sexy said, in a voice that she was obviously trying to keep steady.
“Oh, okay.” Cheryl brought the telephone back to her ear. “Randy, Sexy said she’ll talk to you when she sees you this evening. Should I call and cancel the airline reservations we have for our Bahamas getaway?”
“Cheryl, I don’t know what you’re doing, but okay, handle this any way you want.” He paused, and then added, “But please don’t be too mean. She doesn’t deserve it.”
“Gotcha. Love you, babe. And don’t worry, the bags are all packed so we can head to the airport as soon as you get home.” She slipped the telephone back in her bag. “He asked me to tell you that he filed for a restraining order against you—”
“What!” Sexy’s mouth dropped open.
“And that you’ll probably be served later this afternoon, or maybe tomorrow.” Cheryl looked at her watch. “Oh, look at the time. I still have to pick up a couple of bathing suits, so I’ve got to run.” She turned, and slowly sashayed her way back to her car, letting the tote bag lazily sway back and forth on her arm. Right before getting in the car, she turned and looked at Sexy, smiled, and twirled her fingers goodbye, in the same way Sexy had done to her too many times.
But once inside the car, Cheryl was anything but calm and relaxed. He fucking rented her an apartment? On the Upper East Side, one of the most expensive neighborhoods in New York. And he actually bought both of us the same exact bag? What is that? Some kind of male ego thing, branding his women? I hate him! She started the car and pulled off, tears in her eyes. Damn, I wish I didn’t love him so much.
Abandoning her plan to call Ligon, Cheryl got on the FDR Drive heading north, not caring where she’d end up. After twenty-five minutes she realized she was almost at the George Washington Bridge. Maybe a ride through New Jersey would help clear her mind. She was debating whether to go over the bridge or not, when her cell phone rang. She looked down at the screen. Ligon!
* * *
“So let me get this straight,” Cheryl said, shaking her head in disbelief. “You mean you had nothing to do with his death?”
“Not a damn thing,” Ligon said while nonchalantly chewing a wooden toothpick. “Our contract was for a thorough roughing up—”
“But not too rough,” Cheryl hurriedly broke in.
Ligon smirked at her, before continuing: “Our contract was for a thorough roughing up, but nothing too drastic.”
“Right. And?”
Ligon shrugged. “And so he was gifted a broken leg, a broken wrist, and a broken nose, along with a warning that if he ever contacted you, he’d be in for much worse. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“So you did not run him down with a car?”
A look of annoyance crossed Ligon’s face, but his voice remained cool. “No, like I said before, I didn’t have a damn thing to do with it. It’s a bad coincidence that it happened the same day.”
Cheryl leaned back in her chair and breathed a large sigh of relief. “Oh, God, you don’t know how relieved I am, Ligon. You can’t even imagine how it was tugging on my conscience and—”
“On your conscience, huh?” Ligon chuckled. “Sure you weren’t afraid I was going to get caught and maybe rat you out?”
“Not at—” Cheryl paused and smiled. “Okay, I’m not going to lie. That was my primary concern. But I always kinda knew that even if you were caught, you’d never implicate me.”
“True.” Ligon winked, and gave one of his rare smiles. “I wouldn’t have. But I understand you worrying, since there isn’t any way for you to know that.”
Cheryl poured herself another cup of Ethiopian Fancy coffee after offering Ligon a cup, which he turned down. “Ligon, we’ve known each other for a few years now, and I’ve never had the nerve to ask before, but how did you, well, get started in your, uh, business?”
Ligon shrugged. “I was a Navy SEAL for five years, then a Marine for another four years, and so when I got out, it seemed like a natural fit.” He gave Cheryl a meaningful look and added: “And let’s leave it at that.”
Cheryl nodded. “Well, so you know, I really appreciate you.”
“Nice to know.” Ligon stood up. “Okay, I’ve got to run. Nice seeing you again.”