Felicia tried to disguise the pleasure she experienced, watching behind darkened glasses as Samantha began to crumble under the direct inquiry from this woman who knew so much about her. Felicia’s reserved seat in the front of the hall had remained unoccupied all night as she timed her entrance with purpose. She was dressed in style. Her blue-black pocketed, cocktail dress was a perfect fit. The black sequined bodice added more sex appeal to an already sexy figure. Her dress fell just above her knees, revealing long curved legs she once kept hidden. Her black evening sandals added height to her already tall stature.
Felicia walked with an unimagined confidence and a mystifying stare Samantha couldn’t decipher. She sat sandwiched between Emory Sullivan and Parker Chandler, both with an identical look of perplexity, but for different reasons. Felicia sat erect, her legs crossed at the knees. Her hands were crossed one over the other at the wrist, and rested elegantly on her right knee. She couldn’t have planned a more perfect evening. Her plans were unraveling just as she hoped they would.
“What do you want?” Samantha asked, again.
“What do I want?” I repeated. “I wanted what I thought was mine. I wanted what you took from me, everything you took from me, and since there’s no way for that to happen, I don’t want a damn thing from you. This isn’t about what you owe me. It’s about what you owe these people,” I explained with an uncanny calmness in my voice.
“And what do I…?”
“The truth,” I interrupted. “You owe them the truth, Samantha. Something you never thought you owed me, or Ryle, or Vincent. Do I need to continue?”
“Or Gage,” Felicia chimed in.
“Gage? What are you talking about, Felicia? What have I done to you?”
“Personally? Nothing,” Felicia answered, “I mean, besides the low jabs, the insults you spewed out, and your total disregard to anyone you felt was beneath you, though the only person beneath you is you. I was more than your damn secretary, but you had your head too far up your own ass, you couldn’t bring yourself to see that. But I held my tongue. I played your game, knowing this day would come. Oh, this isn’t for me.”
“So, am I to assume you are connected to this Gage person?”
“Good one, Samantha. Is that your attempt to convince these people we don’t know what we’re talking about? Oh, baby doll, you’re going to have to pull off the Oscar winning performance of a lifetime for that to happen. And, yes, your assumption that I am connected to this ‘Gage person’ would be correct, Ms. Samantha Madelyn Wells-Garrett. May I?” Felicia asked as she stood to approach Samantha. Felicia walked a few steps, mounted the stage and stood beside Samantha, attempting to share the microphone and the spotlight. “I think everyone needs to hear this.”
Samantha froze. She studied Felicia’s face with careful curiosity. She scrutinized Felicia’s appearance with a look of speculation on her face, but it seemed whatever she thought, she dismissed in a hurry. “If you are a part of this, you are done here,” Samantha warned in a whisper, her hands covering the microphone.
“You’ll see I never needed this gig in the first place. Trust me, the only person done here is you.” Felicia spoke calmly in an equally soft tone. She pulled the microphone closer to her and began. “Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Kennalyn Covell-Delahunt. My husband…” Kennalyn paused and glanced at Samantha as she stood with her hands behind her back, listening to tales aimed at ruining her. “My ex-husband,” Kennalyn corrected, “is former Atlanta football player Gage Delahunt.”
Samantha’s face cracked, and her jaw dropped halfway to the floor. Her face became pale as if all the blood that gave her life had drained from it.
“But I’m not here to tell you how this woman, your coworker, who some of you consider your friend, my best friend, at least at one point, slept with my husband, and then tried to destroy him, her ex-fiancé, simply because he backed out of their wedding. She’s carried so much hatred for him, she made it her personal quest to make him and any other man who falls in love with her, suffer. No, I’m here to tell you how this woman, when she had the opportunity to help her own father, sat there and watched him hang himself. She even pulled the chair further out of his reach when he realized that wasn’t something he wanted to do. And, even when he reached for her, even when he whispered her name, begging her to help him, she used that moment, his last moment, to remind him of how he needed to suffer for everything he put her and her mother through. She has a dark heart.”
“This isn’t true.”
“Like hell it isn’t,” Kennalyn snapped. She spoke, bringing her attention back to the audience. “She wears a mask to fool the world. Well, Samantha, it’s not Halloween anymore. You can remove your mask now.”
“I thought…”
I laughed. “You’ve never thought about anyone other than yourself. And anything you thought about never goes beyond whose life you were going to wreck next, and how you could cause the most disruption without any repercussions.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about? Gage never married,” Samantha corrected.
“He never married what, white?” Kennalyn interrupted. “You should have done a better job researching your targets, or should I say your intended victims. Don’t worry, he didn’t. You can thank my father for my, let’s see, high yellow complexion. Did I get that right, Parker?”
Parker didn’t respond. I didn’t expect him to. Samantha was silent again.
“And must I forget to mention she blackmailed this man into concocting a frivolous rape charge against Mr. Ryle Lucas, knowing he would rather quit his job instead of having his name dragged through the mud in court, further damaging his reputation and his career. How am I doing so far, Samantha?”
“So Parker,” Samantha spoke, trying to remain composed, as her shenanigans were unveiled.
“Helped me put everything together?” Kennalyn interrupted, “No, Samantha, you did. Sure he was one of many people who held small pieces I needed to put this puzzle together. I also needed to get close to you. You know, my way of keeping my enemies closer. I needed to keep my eyes on you,” Kennalyn paused. “That was easier than I thought. Thank you!”
“You also left a trail behind you. You thought you had gotten away, and that everything had died down because you had dirt on everyone. Of course, they weren’t going to disclose anything involving you.”
Kennalyn was relishing in the satisfaction of seeing Samantha crawl under a shell like a turtle in direct sunrays. She knew Samantha’s type. She walked around like no one could walk a mile in her shoe, as if she always sat with her legs crossed or closed, but she was a headboard away from a whore bed. Yes, she’s had Samantha’s number for a long time.
As Kennalyn spoke, Samantha concerned herself with only one person: Jelani Graybourne, the one man she hoped to snatch. As he slipped out of one of the side doors to the hall, Samantha began her escape in his direction, but her getaway was short-lived when she came face to face with me.
“Joyce?” Samantha questioned.
“In the flesh,” I responded. “You would think my own daughter would want to share this moment with her mother.”
“I didn’t give them your name for you to get an invitation.”
“I know, and I forgive you,” I said, gently touching her hand. “Remind me to thank Kennalyn. She asked me to keep my visit a surprise. Surprise! You know, she was always such a good neighbor. I’m just glad I kept in contact with her. When I talked to you, it was so hard to pretend I didn’t know what was happening in your life. But Kennalyn, I mean, Felicia was keeping me well informed.”
“I bet she was.”
“Oh, don’t be mad at her. After all, you did take the woman’s husband from her.”
“You can’t take someone who doesn’t want to be taken, Mother,” Samantha said, deciding to continue her pursuit of Mr. Graybourne.
“Did you figure out who sent you that beautiful bouquet of roses?”
Samantha stopped and turned to f
ace me. We still had an audience. They were getting a better show than her acceptance speech would have given them.
“That was too easy,” Samantha said, walking back towards me. “Vincent sent them. He didn’t do the smartest thing including his initials V.I.M.”
“You think you are so smart, don’t you?”
“No, Mother. He just isn’t that smart.”
“Before you start tooting your own horn, Vincent doesn’t know anything yet, but he will soon. See, I sent you that bouquet. V.I.M. isn’t Vincent’s initials. It means Vengeance Is Mine. See, Samantha, you’re not getting away with one more hurt.”
“Listen, Mother, you don’t want to start a war you don’t plan on fighting till the end. Keep in mind you have some secrets of your own that aren’t buried as deep as you think. So while you’re running around here trying to play Mother Save All, save your goddamn self first.”
“I covered for you,” I said.
“You didn’t cover for me, you covered for you. You protected my father. You enjoyed your private pain, which was your right, but I wasn’t going to suffer along with you. Putting that man in your bed next to you and telling everyone he had a damn heart attack was your idea, your way of covering up the shame you thought his death would bring to you. So you can stop telling yourself you covered for me so you can feel better about yourself.”
With satisfaction on her face, Samantha turned again to leave.
“I’m not done with you, Samantha!” I screamed.
“I’m done with you. Go home, Joyce!” she yelled back and then disappeared through the side door where Jelani once stood.
I’m done with you, I repeated Samantha’s last statement. She still thought she was running things. For now, I guess I had no choice but to be done with her, since she was now focused on salvaging whatever she thought she could with Jelani. I replaced the brown specs on my face and walked in haste towards the back exit.
Thirty
______
It’s Been You All The Time
Jelani
“WAIT!” SAMANTHA SCREAMED WHEN SHE FINALLY caught up to me.
I left in the middle of her mother’s confessional, except that what she declared should have spewed from Samantha’s mouth, especially when she had opportunities. I stood at the door on the side watching that debacle take shape.
“What, Samantha?” I asked, composed. “Exactly what am I waiting for? Do you need more years to tell me the truth, or just three more seconds of my time to add to lies you already told. Who are you?”
“You know who I am,” she responded quickly.
I laughed, and then turned to face her.
“I thought I knew everything about you. Remind me that I do have to thank your mother for filling in the blanks. They were right when they say mother knows best. That was quite a surprise, though I can’t say it was a pleasant one for you.”
“I wanted to tell you.”
“Samantha, really? You wanted to tell me? And when exactly did that cross your mind? Was it when you stood in this same office, falsely accusing my best friend of raping you, knowing damn well he never put his hands on you? No, that wasn’t a good time to tell me you were a mendacious, merciless bitch. Oh, wait. Maybe you intended on telling me when I told you about Peyton Ashmore? Let me answer that for you. No, you didn’t tell me then, either, because you didn’t think you were anything like her. Am I right? Oh, and let’s not forget about the bouquet of roses that showed up at your door. Remember, I gave you my version of who I thought sent them to you, and rather than correcting me, like I knew you wouldn’t, you just went with it.”
“You do know I,” she began.
“Samantha,” I interrupted. “Please don’t say you love me. And don’t say you’re sorry, either. What you’ve done can’t go away with some heartless apology.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“No,” I answered quickly.
“What do you mean no?” Samantha’s eyes drowned in tears that flowed uncontrollably. Her black hair fell to either side of her face. Her eyes pierced through me in disbelief.
“People are just pawns on your chessboard.” I stared at her with unrelenting eyes. “If this is what you do when you love someone, I’d hate to see how you treat someone when hate is the only thing you’re feeling in your heart for them. Wait,” I caught myself, “I already know what you do. You lie, manipulate, connive, and stab people in their backs, even those closest to you, and then when you’re done, you pray the shit you throw up in the sky doesn’t fall back in your face.”
“Do you think people can change?”
“Change is inevitable, Samantha, but not for you. You didn’t change after you slept with Parker and then used that encounter to get rid of Ryle with your false accusation of rape. You didn’t change after you blackmailed Parker, telling his lover about Kirk Taplin, only because you thought he would sell you out first, even though he remained loyal to you almost up to the end. No, Sam, you didn’t change. You tried to become someone else only after you realized I was falling in love with you. So your purpose for causing all the disruption you have has been realized, except.”
“Except?”
“Sweetheart, I never had any intentions of marrying you,” I said, brushing my palm against her face. She closed her eyes, ashamed by what had transpired. “Look at me,” I ordered. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted the moment you started at the firm. Felicia told me. She never told me why, so naturally, I didn’t believe her. She just told me to trust her, something you never did. So, I proceeded with caution, always hearing her in the back of my head. More than once, I walked by your office, seeing those heated exchanges that you tossed to the side as office gossip, knowing damn well it was more than that. When you thought I wouldn’t give her the time of day, I only ignored her just to keep you from figuring out that I was trying to figure you out.”
“I’m so glad you heeded my warnings,” Kennalyn interrupted, walking through the door and into my office with Ryle and Parker following behind.
“You bitch,” Samantha said, turning around to acknowledge Kennalyn’s presence.
“No, it’s me, Kennalyn, minus the wig, fat suit, and heavy make-up. The only bitch in this room is the one I’m looking at,” Kennalyn shot back without skipping a beat. “You’ve fucked up enough lives around here, and you think nothing is supposed to happen to you? Which damn world do you think you’re living in?”
“You screwed up everything!” Samantha charged.
“You give me too much credit, Sam. As you can see, I don’t deserve all of it; I had help,” Kennalyn said, looking to her left at Ryle, and then to Parker on her right.
“That thing I told you about my father’s suicide was supposed have been our secret.”
“Oh yeah, about that.” Kennalyn walked closer to Samantha and stood with her face inches from hers. “That was your secret. I remember you crying your eyes and your heart out when you told me about that dreadful day. He left you scarred and fractured, you said, and he got what he deserved, even at his own hands. You were such a damn actress, and I must say, you’ve gotten even better. But you should know this. I stopped keeping your secrets the day you started fucking my husband. So, yes, I told your mother because it was about time she found out the kind of person you are. My guess is you won’t be using me as a reference anytime soon, if ever. Just remember, if someone wants to know about the real Samantha Madelyn Wells-Garrett, make sure you tell them don’t ask your neighbor, because I’m going to tell them everything I know about you. And what I don’t know, I will find someone who does.”
“I see you’re still bitter,” Samantha supposed.
“Not bitter. Even,” Kennalyn whispered.
“Come on Samantha,” I interjected. “Don’t blame Kennalyn. This was your doing. She warned me not to fall for you, not to allow you to tug at my heartstrings because your intentions weren’t good. Let’s be glad someone was protecting me, because we know you weren’t. I did give you the
benefit of the doubt. You can’t tell me you didn’t notice me hinting that I knew something was afoul. But since you were incapable of telling the truth, you let all those moments pass you by, because you thought these people were unable to give you exactly what you deserved.”
I walked past Samantha and stood next to Ryle.
“This is her?” I asked Ryle. I kept my focus on Samantha.
“That’s Samantha,” Ryle answered. “I never got a chance to finish telling you her story, but now you know. You shouldn’t feel bad. At least you know her deceptions didn’t begin with you, and something tells me this won’t be her last.”
“What you’re not going to do is talk about me as if I’m not standing right here,” Samantha said with glaring eyes at Ryle and me.
“Like hell we aren’t,” Ryle snapped through clench teeth and tight jaws.
“You don’t even exist,” I added. “You’re nothing but a sad paragraph of my life that never should have been written, but thank you for giving it the ending it surely needed. Actually, I should be thanking your mother, but I’m sure I’ll have time to do that.” I paused and turned to Ryle again. “You could’ve saved me from all this?”
“So this was just a game to you?” Samantha asked. “You exploited love to prove some damn point. Why didn’t you just ask me?”
“Samantha, please. It was a game to you, too. I just played better than you expected. Why didn’t I ask you? Sure, because you were so ready to tell me everything. All I had to do was ask, right? You would have lied then, and you’d still be lying if your stint didn’t end tonight. We’ll just say you’re welcome. You’re more than welcome to leave now. I don’t think we have anything left to talk about.”
I stood aside and watched Samantha walk out of my office and out of my life. Like I knew she would, she walked with her chest high, and her head even higher. Also, like I knew she wouldn’t, she offered no apologies for the chaos she cause. It started the day she took her first strides into Emanuel, Sullivan, and Graybourne.