Pay Day Read online

  “I know. I ran into him at the post office yesterday and he told me. Sorry to hear things didn’t work out.”

  If he knew Tony no longer lived here, that meant that he was here for only one reason.

  “We miss you at Clearcast,” he said.

  “Yeah, I had to go,” I said, still not moving from the door.

  Finally, he said, “Can I come in?”

  “It’s not a good time.”

  He pushed past me and walked inside. “Aww, don’t be like that.”

  “Owen, really?” I said, following him back into my living room. “I was just heading out. I don’t have -”

  “I’m not going to keep you long,” he said, turning to face me. “I just want to check on you.”

  “Well, I’m fine. So now you can go.” I pointed toward the open door.

  “So, we can’t chat?”

  I bit my bottom lip and tried to keep my cool. “What do you really want?”

  “I told you that I wanted to check on you. Oh, and I wanted to congratulate you.”

  That made me pause.

  “Congratulate me for what?” No one at work was supposed to know that I had won the lottery. Granted, we’d heard rumors that people thought we’d won, but since we opted out of the public press conference, no one knew for sure. And I definitely wasn’t about to confirm anything with Owen.

  “I want to congratulate you on hitting it big.” A cocky smile spread across his face. “I know y’all tried to be low key, but how many conversations did we have about all the great things we were gonna do when we hit that lotto?”

  I tried to act like his statement was ludicrous. “What are you talking about?”

  “One of the things we both said we were going to do was walk in and tell Evelyn we were quitting, and walk out like a boss. So imagine my surprise when I heard that was exactly what you did. I know Raquelle got fired, but you quit. Angelique and Terrance quit. All the people that used to play the lotto pool are gone. Except me.”

  “And your point would be?”

  “All y’all leaving at the same time. That didn’t seem right, it just couldn’t have been a coincidence. So I went and looked and a JART Trust claimed the jackpot that week. JART. Janine, Angelique, Raquelle and Terrance.” He smiled confidently like he was proud of himself for figuring it out.

  “What are you talking about, Owen?” My tone was exasperated as I pointed around my living room. With the exception of the big screen TV I’d recently bought, my surroundings looked pretty meager. “Look around here! Does it look like I won the lotto?”

  He glanced around, turning his nose up. “So? For some reason, you haven’t spent your money yet.”

  I sighed. “Why are you here?”

  “Because I think it’s foul how y’all cut me out.”

  I wanted to tell him that he was the one that said he didn’t want to play that week, but I didn’t want to give him any ammunition.

  “I always play the lotto with y’all and it’s wrong for you guys to cut me out just because I didn’t play that week. We should be in this together. You know I deserve a cut of that money.” He no longer sounded like he was cocky and playing games. He sounded angry.

  “Then you need to go talk to the people from JART Trust because I don’t have anything to offer,” I calmly replied.

  “You guys are JART! Don’t play me. And Angelique won’t return my calls and you know Terrance doesn’t cut for me. So I figured you would be the voice of reason.” He slowly began pacing around my living room. “Then, as if God agreed with me, I was in the barbershop last week and my barber, Benny, was bragging about his boy that came into a buttload of cash because he hit the lotto. And then when Benny said his name, Darnell Helms, I kept thinking, where do I know that name from because it’s not like there are a lot of Helm’s around here? Then it dawned on me, Janine Helms Weathers. That’s what it says on your plaque on your desk. Of course my mind started racing. I checked and there was no record of a Darnell Helms winning the lotto. Then, when I bumped into Tony and he told me y’all split and it was pretty ugly, it all started to make sense. You won the lotto, but you had someone related to you claim the money so that your estranged husband didn’t get any of your winnings. Stop me when I get to the good part.” He grinned like he’d just solved some big puzzle.

  I glared at him, but didn’t respond. “And the way I see it, that piece of information opened the door for the possibility that I could get my hands on some of that money, too.”

  I wanted to tell him that I couldn’t even find Darnell right now, so his efforts to strong-arm me out of some money were futile.

  “I don’t know what you want from me, but I’m stressed, I don’t have any money,” I said instead.

  He pointed outside my window. “Then, how’d you get that new BMW?”

  I closed my eyes and inhaled. The one thing I’d bought myself had come back to bite me in the butt.

  “It’s none of your business how I got anything,” I said. “And even if your cockamamie theory was true, I don’t know what you want from me.”

  “I want in on the money.”

  I marched over to the door. “Boy, bye.”

  He glared at me as he inched toward me. “I wonder if Tony knows about your winnings? I can’t imagine he does since he was collecting mail when I saw him. Maybe I should go ask him.”

  That made my insides turn flips. But I couldn’t let Owen know that he was rattling me. “Tell him what you want. And I’ll tell him just like I told you, I’m broke.”

  “Whatever. You’re foul, that’s what you are,” Owen said.

  I held the door open. “Bye, Owen.”

  All his confidence and cockiness was gone as he slowly walked out the door. “This ain’t over,” he said, stepping outside. “You’re making a bad choice. One way or the other you’re going to pay. Trust me, my way is a lot cheaper. I only want a mil.”

  I didn’t even reply as I slammed the door in his face. It was bad enough that I had to worry about Darnell, but now, I had to wonder how long it would be before Tony found out because judging from the look on Owen’s face, it was just a matter of time.

  Chapter 22

  Angelique

  It was just after ten o’clock when I walked into my house.

  “Marcus, I’m home,” I yelled as I walked through the living room. I’d tried calling him three times since my plane landed and he hadn’t returned one call.

  I found it unusual that Marcus hadn’t met me at the door to grab my bag. As I walked upstairs, I heard the television in our room. I was sure he’d fallen asleep watching a movie and didn’t realize when I came in.

  When I got to my bedroom, Marcus didn’t budge. He was lying in bed on his back with both arms tucked behind his head, watching ESPN Sportscenter.

  “Hey, I tried calling you a few times before I got home. Have you been sleep?” I set my bag down and walked toward him as I waited for his response.

  “No, I’ve been wide awake.” He never looked away from the television screen. “In fact, I’m more awake than ever.” He was staring at the TV so intently that I wondered if he was even watching it.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  His response was dry and short. The moments that followed were filled with an awkward silence. “Is everything okay?” I hated when people asked questions they already knew the answers to, but I couldn’t help it. I knew Marcus, and I knew everything wasn’t okay. It was unlike him to miss a phone call or text message without returning it, and then when I came home, he didn’t even acknowledge me.

  My question was met with silence.

  “Are you feeling all right?” I reached over to feel his forehead with the back of my hand and he slid his head out of my reach.

  “I’m fine.” He sat up on the edge of the bed. “How’s your Aunt Brenda?”

  I relaxed. Maybe my guilt was getting the best of me. “Oh, she’s doing a little better. She insisted that
my mom and I come back home even though she wasn’t fully well.”

  “Hmmm… that’s interesting.” He turned to look me directly in the eye. “Did you drop her off in Austin after you and Raquelle left the basketball game in New Orleans?”

  I gulped. How did he know I was at the basketball game? There were only a handful of times in my life when I had been at a loss for words and this was one of them.

  Marcus shook his head. The pained expression on his face was enough to make me want to cry.

  I cleared my throat. “Look, Marcus, I didn’t mean to lie to you.” I attempted to put my hand on his shoulder.

  He jerked away like I had a contagious rash. “Don’t touch me, Angelique. You say you didn’t mean to lie, yet you made up a whole story about your aunt being sick.” He shook his head. “And to think, I actually believed your lies. I thought my mind was playing tricks on me when I saw you hollering in the crowd at the basketball game. Then, the camera zoomed in closer and I saw you and Raquelle clear as day.”

  Pain shot to the back of my throat. Stupid cameras. There had to be three hundred thousand people in that arena. Why in the world would they zoom in on us? I was totally oblivious to the fact that I had been on TV. There should have been some type of clause that prevented film crews from putting people on television without their knowledge.

  “Look Marcus, I never meant to hurt you. I guess that’s why I made up that story about Aunt Brenda.” I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eyes. “I just wanted to get away and have some fun in New Orleans.”

  “And you had to lie to do it?”

  I moved closer to him. It used to be difficult for me to lie to Marcus. I didn’t know why it was coming so easy now. “Babe, I’m sorry. I just didn’t think that you would approve. Raquelle invited me and well… I should’ve just been honest.”

  “You don’t even know what that word means.” Marcus stared at me so hard, he could have pierced a hole in me with the rage in his eyes. “You know the craziest part of all of this is that I told myself that there had to be a valid reason as to why you lied to me,” he continued. “But my gut wouldn’t let it go, so I logged into your laptop and saw your iMessages. You and Antonio Whittingham’s iMessages.”

  “You read my messages?” I cried, only because I didn’t know what else to say.

  “Yep,” he said, with no shame. “And I saw all the sexy photos in your photo stream. Photos that you never sent to me.” He frowned as he stood up. “Guess they weren’t taken for me. By the way, you might want to turn off your iCloud.”

  “I can’t believe you went snooping,” I said, at the same time not believing that I’d been dumb enough not to turn off my iCloud backup.

  He glared at me. “And I can’t believe you cheated on me.”

  “I… I, you… I can’t believe you went in my personal stuff.”

  “Don’t try to turn this around on me,” he snapped. “Yeah, I shouldn’t have gone snooping because when you look for stuff, you usually find it. I looked and I found.” He brushed past me and entered the walk-in closet.

  My feet seemed cemented to the floor because I couldn’t move. I didn’t know if I was more shocked to learn that Marcus found out I was in New Orleans or if my guilt planted me where I was. Whichever was the case, it took me a few moments to move. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths.

  Marcus returned to the bedroom with a duffle bag. It was then that I noticed that his dresser drawers were empty.

  He didn’t say another word as he headed into the hallway.

  “Where are you going?” I asked, following him.

  “Anywhere but here.” His feet thudded down the steps and I followed close behind him.

  “Don’t you think we should talk about this?” I stood in front of the door that led to the garage.

  “Move, Angelique.” Marcus reached around me and tried to open the door.

  “No. I’m sorry. I need to explain.”

  Then, he did something I didn’t expect. He balled up his fist and hit the door over my head, a move that made me flinch in fear. “Angelique, move out of my way before I move you.”

  Instead of moving out of his way, though, I folded my arms, pressed my back against the door, and firmly said, “I won’t move until you tell me when you’re coming back.” Until that moment, I had never understood why women stood in front of doors to hold their men hostage. But I got it now. I wouldn’t let him leave like this. Marcus wasn’t giving me answers and although I was the guilty party, I needed to know what he was thinking.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow.” He paused, then added, “to get the rest of my things. Now, will you move out of my way?” When I still didn’t move, he said through gritted teeth, “I know you think I’m Mr. Nice Guy, but you really don’t want to see me at my worst. Now, move your cheating ass out of my way.”

  The venom in Marcus’ eyes told me now was not the time to try him, so I did as I was asked.

  As Marcus walked past me, he turned and said, “I hope you find whatever it is that you’re looking for. But, you can do it without me. I’ll save you from having to think of more lies to tell. The new you sucks. I’d take big Angelique with the big heart over this skinny, conniving, lying tramp any day.”

  A sudden coldness hit me at my core. Marcus wasn’t supposed to break up with me. I was the one that had gotten bored with him. But I never wanted us to truly break up. I opened my mouth, but no words escaped.

  Marcus turned the doorknob and stepped into the garage. He gave me a harsh squint and said, “You might be enjoying the smaller version of yourself, but you were a much better person when there was more of you to love.” Then, he closed the door.

  If the saying “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me” were true, then why did I feel like I’d just gotten punched in the stomach?

  Chapter 23

  Raquelle

  Money might not be able to buy happiness, but it sure could put you in the vicinity of it. That’s all I could think as I looked down at my son. He was trying his best to be strong, but I could tell that all the needles and contraptions hooked up to him had him terrified.

  “You okay, big boy?” I asked, squeezing his hand.

  He nodded, but didn’t say anything.

  “You know Mama loves you? I’m gonna be there the whole time.” I stroked his hair. Tiana stood next to me. Usually, she was unfazed about everything, but fear was written all over her face.

  “He’s going to be just fine,” I assured her, stroking her long, box braids.

  She leaned down and kissed Shaun on the forehead. “Hurry up and pull through because I need to beat you at Madden.”

  “You don’t even play Madden,” Shaun replied.

  Her voice cracked as she said, “Get better and I will.”

  He forced a smile, then turned and looked at me. “Is this gonna work, mama? Will I be better after this?”

  “That’s our prayer, baby.” I didn’t know what our future held so I had already paid for the surgery in full, as well as paid for at-home medical care for the next three years. My prayer was that I would be there and would only need the nurse to supplement my care. But I paid for full-time care just in case.

  “Mama, why did this happen to me?” Shaun asked. He was in the bed, waiting to wheeled out to begin his transplant surgery. “Did I do something bad as a baby?”

  “That’s not the way God works, Sweetie. He doesn’t punish His children.” I leaned over and kissed him on the forehead, too. “They have to get you in there and get prepped, then I’ll be right in. I love you.”

  “To the moon and back,” he replied as the nurse pulled up the side railing on the bed.

  “Give us about fifteen minutes,” the nurse said.

  I nodded and struggled to fight back tears as they wheeled my baby out.

  “He’s going to be okay,” my mother said, coming up behind me and wrapping her arm around me. I’d forgotten that she was here. But of course,
she would be. If my father were alive, he’d be here, too. My family was close knit and if anything ever were to happen to me, the only comfort I would have is knowing my family would take good care of my children.

  I welcomed my mother’s touch. “He has to be okay.” I sighed as I stared at the door they’d just wheeled my son out of. We stood in silence for a few minutes, then I said, “Mama, how do you stay strong, watching your child go through something like this?” My older sister had died of lupus when she was thirteen. I barely remembered it, but I did recall the toll it had taken on my mother. “I’m trying to stay faithful, but I don’t understand why my son is going through this.”

  “Some things aren’t for us to understand,” my mother replied, removing her arm and turning me to face her. “You just have to stay faithful. That’s what faith is, believing when you can’t see. But think about it, you’ve already been blessed. A person is more likely to get struck by lightening than win the lottery. Yet, you won the lottery and that meant that you were able to give your son something that just a few months ago, you had no idea how you’d be able do it, so don’t tell me God ain’t good. Instead of looking at what you don’t have, count your blessings for what you do.” She squeezed my chin. “Now, go change so you can be with your son.”

  “I love you, Mama.”

  “I love you, too, baby.”

  I hugged her, then Tiana, then headed into the bathroom to change into the scrubs they told me I had to wear. I couldn’t be in the room during the actual surgery, but I could go in with him until the anesthesia knocked him out. I’d just put on the shoe covers when my phone beeped to let me know that I had an incoming text message.

  Mr. Perry has agreed to see you. Next Monday. 1 pm. 10 minutes – Elsa

  My first instinct was to allow the glimmer of hope to set in. Elsa was Mr. Perry’s assistant. I had waited for her after work last week and begged her (okay, offered her ten grand) to convince Mr. Perry to give me ten minutes. I don’t know what she’d said to get him to agree to, but I said a silent prayer of thanks, then dropped my phone back in my purse and pushed the purse into one of the dressing room lockers. Today would be all about Shaun. Tomorrow, I would worry about my future.