Diary of A. . . Page 10

  “No problem. Anything else I can do?” Cassandra asked hopefully. “I do have some friends that could leave no trace that you were a part of any murders?”

  I chuckled. “Shut up, girl,” I ordered playfully. “Don’t speak like that. The phones could be tapped.”

  We laughed together.

  “Just take good notes in the meeting,” I said.

  “Will do,” she promised.

  After hanging up the phone with Cassandra, I decided to wait to call my sister back after my first meeting down in the hotel lobby. I loved that our company usually used the St. Royal’s Hotel line. They were always so accommodating for traveling business persons and they had great conference and meeting rooms that businesses could use.

  When I finally called Lauren, she didn’t even say ‘how are you?’ before she seethed, “How could you tell Nina what I said? I told you I didn’t want to involve her.”

  “I wanted to know the truth.”

  “Now she’s upset with me. I told you not to say anything to her!” Lauren was seriously angry.

  “Look, Lauren, you want me to go on a whim and not ask the only person that could give me some kind of information about Uncle E? That’s kind of stupid. What kind of resources do you think I have? And besides, Nina’s always bitching about you. Why are you suddenly so upset that she’s now mad at you for something different?”

  “Because this was something major, Sheryl!” Lauren cried hysterically.

  “You need to calm down before you end up dropping a load.”

  “But you fail to understand that I didn’t want Nina involved! Now she really won’t-” She suddenly stopped talking, as if she had let something out she wasn’t supposed to.

  “Won’t what?”

  Lauren huffed angrily in the phone and spoke through gritted teeth. “She won’t give us the money we want.”

  “Money for what?”

  “Mitchell is out of work and we need cash. So we went to Nina again and she said no.”

  “You’ve asked for cash before?” This was news to me.

  “Yes,” she exasperated. “Nina gave us the money to buy the house in Bloomfield Hills.”

  “Gave? That house had to cost three hundred thousand dollars. And Nina just gave it to you?” I didn’t even know my mother had that kind of money to give to anyone.

  “She’d do anything to keep me quiet. Especially if it meant making her look good in front of you.”

  “What are you talking about, Lauren?”

  “I’m just saying not everything you know about our mother is the truth. Once I confronted her about who our daddy was, she was eager to give Mitchell and me the money for the house. But when we needed help again, and I had more information, she denied me.”

  I was getting angry at my sister. “So you want me to help on a stupid machination while you blackmail our mother?!”

  “It’s not a machination, Sheryl. I know E’s alive and if you prove it-”

  “What will it prove? That you think I’ll think differently of Nina because she kept the fact that E was our father? She had her reasons. Any mother would make sacrifices to protect her children.”

  “She was protecting the money that E left us!” Lauren exclaimed.

  “What money?” Now I was pacing my hotel room like a caged animal.

  “E had money. I knew about it when Nina became sick and you couldn’t get to the hospital to help her get things taken care of, because you were in Florida. I went to Nina’s home and saw a letter from some lawyer about an account in E’s name that she had access to. I already knew that he was our father, but I didn’t know about the money.”

  “So what? She used that money to take care of us.”

  “That money was ours to do with as we pleased, not hers. You got a scholarship? What did I get? Two years of community college. She denied us our money.”

  “Look, Lauren I’m not going to sit here and mince words with you on whether the money was ours or not.”

  “Ask her. Ask her about the money. That’s how she was able to give Mitchell and me the money for the house.”

  “And now you want her to help you with living costs? Why didn’t you ask me? Why did you have to blackmail her?”

  “Cause that money belongs to me!” Lauren screamed selfishly.

  I was quiet as I assessed my sister’s madness. “Ever since we were kids you always thought you were getting the short end of the stick, Lauren. You always wanted everyone to overly care about you and hold your hand. The reason you got two years of college is because you didn’t want to accept the scholarship Nina worked damn hard to find you.”

  “That was for a school all the way in the south. An all girls’ school. I didn’t want to leave Detroit.”

  “Spellman is a damn good school to go to, but what would you know. What would you care?! Get off your motherfucking high horse and accept what’s given to you, you little bitch.” I slammed the phone down and screamed in the closest pillow.

  I knew I was wrong to say those things, but Lauren was a shallow selfish bitch! And I was not going to help her play games with people anymore!

  Entry Twenty-One

  Colonel Debner was a husky Polish man with a Southern drawl. He looked angry when he stepped into the private meeting room. He reminded me of a very old Mel Gibson.

  Another old man followed. This one reminded me of Colonel Sanders, but he walked with a cane. He was dressed in black and had a mischievous amused gleam in his soft brown eyes.

  “You one of Mr. Howard’s people?” Colonel Debner asked. “I hope not that bitch that’s been communicating with my staff. Umm, Mrs. Nabors?” He looked ready to go to war.

  Demurely, knowing he had come for a battle, I said, “No, sir, I’m Ms. Banks and yes, I do work for Earl Howard.” I outstretched my hand with my most confident ‘feel comfortable’ smile from ear to ear.

  “This here is my friend, Judge Knowles Knox. We were having an amicable discussion and I didn’t want to part company as of yet. So he’s opted to join us.” He said it as if he could care less about what I thought about it.

  “Meaning,” the judge said from behind a frumpy white moustache. “He’s holding me hostage.”

  I saw the teasing look on the judge’s face and invited them to have a seat. They were complete gentlemen. Colonel Debner even helped me sit before the two of them sat across from me.

  I felt a little uncomfortable because the Colonel had brought in someone who could give him legal advice. I didn’t know if I should avoid specifics of business and keep the conversation amicable or should I just not talk business at all.

  “Let’s get down to business,” the Colonel said immediately.

  “Damn, Houser, let the lady catch her breath,” the judge snapped with a tease. “You’re always rushing.”

  “I don’t have the time or the place to wait.”

  Judge Knox ignored this and asked me, “Where are you from, Ms. Banks?”

  “Detroit,” I answered, not at all minding that the judge wanted to bullshit for awhile.

  “Hey! Ain’t that where your new goddaughter-in-law is from?” Colonel Debner asked. “What they got in that city for you people? A fountain of beauty for everyone to bathe in.”

  That was somewhat of a compliment – I think.

  “What he means,” the judge interpreted apologetically. “Is that my godson just married a beautiful African-American woman named Tanner and she’s from Detroit, too.” He shot his friend a hard look.

  “Do you know her?” the Colonel asked.

  I know I was raised to respect my elders, but his question offended me. Just because I’m black and from Detroit, doesn’t mean I know every damn body in the motherfucking city. I played it cool, overly reminding myself that this was business. “No, sir, I don’t know her.”

  “You’d enjoy her,” the judge said. “When does your flight leave for home?”

  “Tomorrow morning,” I responded.

  “Would you care to g
o to dinner tonight?” the judge asked.

  “Dammit, Knowles, I can’t go no fucking where. You know that,” the Colonel said angrily, glaring at his friend.

  “I wasn’t asking for your company, Houser. I’ll gladly entertain your guest, while you busy yourself destroying people’s lives.”

  Both men glared at each other. I had a feeling this was some past shit the judge had thrown up on the Colonel. I gathered that not a lot of people tried to rile the Colonel, but the judge looked as if he could care a rat’s ass what the Colonel could do to him.

  I broke the tension when I spoke softly, “I’d love to go.” Why the hell did I accept? Damn fool and clearly not thinking straight.

  “Now can we get down to business?” the Colonel asked.

  I knew I wasn’t going to get out of not addressing his problems, so I spoke up to get the upper hand, “I should let you know that I was just assigned your case. However, as your new customer specialist, I plan on making sure your needs are met.” I opened up the Debner file. “Now as I understand, some of your receivers are having trouble with orders?”

  “Yes!” the Colonel answered vehemently. “I hired y’all ‘cause Earl Howard assured me I’d get no headaches dealing with them damn bitchy people. But that Nabors’ lady is saying that my people are at fault for not responding to orders placed, when we’ve never received them.”

  It seemed a simple matter of their word against his, because when I spoke to the other people who also had a problem with the Colonel’s company, they were saying the same thing. Miscommunication and Erin not handling the situation delicately.

  “Well, I can understand your frustration, Mr. Debner, and I’ve already started investigating each and every problem in an effort to correct them. I just ask that you give me a couple of weeks, some leverage during that time to assuage people and offer confidence that this will not happen again.”

  “Two weeks?” Colonel asked suspiciously. “That long?”

  “Rome was not built overnight. I’m a woman, but unfortunately, I don’t possess a wand to make it all go away. But I’ll do my damndest to get the problem off your shoulders as soon as possible.”

  “Oh, I like her,” the judge said. “Two weeks is enough time, Houser, to decide on whether you want to keep Howard’s services or not. He sure knew who to send to make you speechless. That other girl pissed me off, too, and I haven’t even spoken to her.”

  “Other girl?” I questioned to make sure I knew who they were speaking about.

  “That Erin lady. I had a feeling she was trying to make Houser change his decision about using Howard’s services.”

  “I hope in two weeks you’ll see that we are a valuable asset to your company, Mr. Debner.”

  The Colonel looked doubtful, but he nodded reluctantly.

  After letting the judge know I’d be ready by five-thirty, I went to my room to rest more. I hoped that tonight was going to be a somber experience.

  ***

  The judge sent a private limousine to drive me about forty-five minutes outside of New York to a massive estate that looked like half the size of the Pentagon. I felt totally under-dressed in a black, after five, Marc Jacobs flowing dress with solid Donna Karen pumps. The dress had rhinestone highlights and a plunging neckline.

  I’d added a faux ponytail to my hair and placed ringlets about my face to hide my large forehead. I wore rhinestone earrings and a bracelet, plus a matching rhinestone necklace. I knew I looked good, but was it good enough for a place like this?

  Soon as the limousine stopped, a mid-thirties man with premature gray hair, dark Hispanic looks and startling green eyes walked up to me.

  “Sir Richard Rose Sanchez,” he said with a bow.

  I had never been anywhere close to any kind of real royalty. I wasn’t sure if I even curtsied right. “Ms. Sheryl Banks,” I introduced.

  “Miss?” he questioned with a wicked glint in those beautiful eyes. “Godfather said to treat you like a lady, but I think I’ll treat you like a queen.”

  Oh, he was a real charmer. I could tell he usually got what he wanted and it was nice to be wanted by him.

  Richard held out a lean muscular arm. He was about six feet tall and looked so good wearing a Ralph Lauren grey pinstriped suit that seemed specially tailored for his body.

  “I noticed you said sir before your name. Does that make you a real royal something from England?” I asked.

  He chuckled. “Something like that. My mother has a royal bloodline and we are titled from the queen herself, but it’s nothing compared to my brother. He’s a duke of England.”

  Oh lawd! What the fuck had I gotten myself into? I started to believe this chick Tanner really wasn’t from Detroit. See, lots of people like to claim to be from our city because nobody knew where the fuck Suburban cities like Dearborn, Ferndale, or Grosse Pointe Woods were. These same people got their rich education, lived high off the hog and only stepped foot in the city when they had a charity event to attend.

  No black chick from Detroit would ever be compatible with a damn duke! That shit only happened in fairy tales.

  Entry Twenty-Two

  The inside of the house was mind-boggling. It was a palace with high ceilings, marbled floors, a large staircase and expensive paintings on the walls.

  Richard spoke about how his ancestors had used the house to room freed slaves. How though his family now lived in it as their permanent house in America, they also owned property in England, Italy, Spain and even Africa.

  I knew he was covertly bragging, but his eyes couldn’t lie, he was attracted to me.

  “What do you do?” Richard questioned. “Godfather only described you as an intriguing young woman from Detroit, but I thought there could only be one like that.”

  “Who is the other?”

  “My sister-in-law, Duchess Tanner Sanchez.”

  Uggghhh! I wanted to say out loud.

  I was still in a bit of disbelief about this black duchess from Detroit. I was just waiting to meet some bourgeois heifer with a bourgeois attitude that I had to sit all night with a fake ass smile on my face for. Or worse, she could be a nasty gold digger who just lucked upon opening up a duke’s nose until he couldn’t even see straight.

  I answered Richard, trying not to sound disgusted at the prospect of meeting this ‘Tanner.’ “I’m a customer specialist for my company.” I passed him a business card. “How long have they been married?” I inquired casually.

  “A year now,” he answered. “Drink?”

  I was too nervous to drink, but I needed it. “Anything.” I sat on a silk Victorian settee.

  Richard fixed me a scotch on the rocks and one for himself before sitting beside me.

  “Will your godfather be joining us?” I asked hopefully. The judge seemed as if he would be a better conversationalist than this lecherous Richard and the most likely airhead, ‘Tanner.’

  I knew it was wrong of me to judge before meeting, but there was no way a sister from Detroit could have acquired a piece of this billion dollar place. Things like that don’t happen to people.

  “Yes, he’s around here somewhere. But please, Ms. Banks, tell me all about you.” He placed a hand on my knee.

  This man was trying hard like a playa-playa to get into my panties. I was honored, yet Richard looked like a man that loved to put notches in his bedpost for any beauty that came his way. Maybe his brother was like that, too. Either way, I wasn’t about to be Richard’s prize tonight.

  Before I could politely find the words to tell him that, a black woman entered the room in a very beautiful and elegant salmon dress. She couldn’t have been much older than myself with long brown hair flowing past her shoulders and soft light brown skin that looked like coffee with too much cream.

  Her smile was breathless. I could immediately see why the judge thought I reminded him of her.

  She had this seductive sultriness that was very rare in a woman to show naturally. I could see it in her as she walked toward me. I f
ound myself entranced. I could immediately see she was assessing me. As she visually frisked me like she was waiting for me to pull out a glock on her ass, I instantly knew this was a hood chick. I wanted to laugh in relief.

  I thought it was amusing that a woman, who looked so sophisticated, could look so hood one moment and then go back to her elegant self two seconds later. No, this wasn’t a bourgeois bitch or a gold digger. This was a hood chick in disguise and I immediately had respect for her.

  “Good evening, Ms. Banks. I’m Tanner Sanchez. Godfather Knowles said you were from Detroit.”

  I stood to shake her extended slender hand, ready to test her. “Yes, I am. Eastside – Grand and Gratiot - born and raised.”

  “Westside – Livernois and Lodge.” she said with a proud smile.

  Yep, she was a Detroiter!

  Tanner briefly looked homesick. “Devlin and I have been so busy with the baby and the new assignment he has over in Africa that I haven’t been to visit lately. I miss some Coney Island chili fries.”

  She rubbed her stomach and I laughed.

  Laughing with me, Tanner said, “Devlin says I can get those fries anywhere, but I told him I can’t.”

  “I know what you mean,” I agreed. “I went to college in Florida and was pheening for White Castles for four years.”

  She held up her hands dramatically as if she were in deep prayer. “Please don’t say that. I made my husband jump on the plane when I was six months pregnant to get me a case of them. I’m almost tempted to see how I could get some chili fries on Internet order.”

  Oh, she was hilarious – I liked her.

  “I do miss the city, though,” she said solemnly.

  How could she miss that run down city when she lived in a palace? “I don’t see how,” I said out loud.

  Tanner laughed, immediately catching my humor. “I know. This place is a city in itself. But in all my travels since meeting Devlin, I really can say there’s no place like home.”