Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
“Twenty-two more minutes,” Duke says and I’m finally over his countdown to the debate. My wife is nervous enough; his minute reminders aren’t helping at all. So I stand and step to him.
“Can we talk outside?” I ask as I grip his shoulder, letting him know that the only option and answer is yes.
“Um, sure. Are you going to be okay?” he asks her.
“We’re only going to be a minute,” I tell her and she nods.
Then I guide Duke out of the small room behind the platform.
“That was your last warning. There’s a big ass clock on the wall.
The time is on all of our cells and I’m wearing a watch.
She knows the time and she’s trying to calm her nerves but you are making the shit worse.
The next time I hear you say the time, it better be a two-minute warning. Is that clear?”
“I just need to?—”
“Is that clear?” I ask, cutting off his words.
“I got it. You know what? I think I’ll just go and check for the media. I’ll be back in time,” he says while pretending to check his phone.
“You do that,” I agree, then leave him in the hall.
My wife is nervous and needs me. She was with me every minute of my family shit and kept me calm during that crazy ass family dinner a few days ago.
I’m still tripping on Shuga being the infamous Nina Wright.
It’s going to take a minute to adjust to that unbelievable news.
But now isn’t that time. Tonight is all about my wife and supporting her through this debate. It’s my turn to be her rock.
“Where’s Duke?” she asks when she realizes I’m solo.
“He went to go check on the media,” I tell her, then step in her direction.
She’s sitting in front of the vanity mirror scrolling through notes on her iPad while her stylist curls the same pieces of hair over and over.
“Don’t worry about him and stop looking at this too,” I say, then take the iPad from her.
I position myself in front of her and lean back on the vanity.
“You don’t need Duke or your notes. This is your district, your court, and your bench.
Everything you need is already in you. Fuck Richardson,” I say and her stylist laughs.
“I’ll give you two a minute. DVonne and I’ll be back right before you go out for touchups,” her stylist says after placing the curler on a black pad on the other side of the vanity.
“Thanks, Jae.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I add, and as soon as she’s out the door, I lean in closer to my wife’s pretty face. “Give me a kiss,” I say and she smiles.
“My lipstick,” she protests playfully.
“They got a big ass bag full of makeup. There’s more lip stuff. Just give your husband a kiss.”
I lean in more and she places her soft hands on the sides of my face. I love when she does that. I get closer and try to kiss all of her anxiety and nervousness away. It’s not needed; she’s got this.
“Thank you, baby,” she says with a smile.
“Come sit over here on the sofa with me. I want you relaxed before you go out there and bury him,” I say, then extend my hand.
She accepts and I coax her over to the sofa.
I sit down first, then gently pull her onto my lap.
My hand caresses her back as she settles into me.
“Tonight is really yours. You’re going to be great, kyau. ”
“I know. It’s my natural nerves. I can’t help it. For anything important, I get nervous and this is definitely important. The election is three weeks away. I’m leading in the polls right now, but tonight, anything can happen.”
“The only thing that’s going to happen is an increase in your lead when this is over.
That’s it,” I assure her and she smiles.
Her lips press into mine, but before we can really kiss, her cell rings.
“Damn. It’s over there,” she says and slides off my lap.
She grabs her phone and beams. “It’s Niya,” she says, then answers. “Hey, sweetie.”
“Hey! You doing the thing?” I hear Niya say as my wife walks back over to me. When she sits back on my lap, I see Niya’s cute little face and Shuga’s in the background.
“Not yet but I’m about to.”
“Good luck,” Niya says.
“Yeah. Good luck; we’ll be watching,” Shuga says.
“Aww, thank you both.”
“You welcome,” Niya says. “Okay, bye bye.”
“Bye, sweetie,” my wife says, then ends the FaceTime. “That was too sweet. I love her so much,” she gushes.
“She loves you too.”
“I’m so ready now. You and now Niya. I’m good.” She smiles then looks at her phone. “Okay. Ten minutes. Let me text Jae so they can come back and get me right.”
“You look gorgeous, kyau. You don’t need them.”
“I love you for that but I’m still going to text them.” She nods then sends the text. “But can you check and see if the girls are here? I told Duke to reserve the front row on my side for you, Kenya, and them.”
“Okay, while you waste Jae 'nem's time, I’ll handle that.”
“Give me my good luck kiss before you go. After DVonne’s last touch up, my lips are off limits.”
She presses her lips to mine and we kiss passionately. I don’t release her mouth until we hear taps on the door. After pecking her one more time, we ease off the sofa. She returns to her makeup station and I open the door for them.
I run into Duke in the hall and ol’ boy is pacing back and forth, looking stressed as fuck. He’s dying to be back in the room with Mireya. He’s worked so hard on this debate behind the scenes and this is his job, so I relieve him of his stress.
“You can go back in,” I say as I walk past him.
“Whew! Thank you,” he exhales and practically runs to the room.
I laugh a little as I continue through the designated door that leads to the main floor. We are in the historical Irene Redmond Center. Her family restored the old Chamber of Commerce building in her honor and it’s now a community center for meetings and events.
When I make it on the floor, I see Kyrah and Alex right up front. Giselle decided to watch from the comfort of her home. She didn’t think her business was a good look for my wife here tonight.
As I journey toward them, I hear, “Quintus,” and stop in my tracks. To my complete surprise, I turn to see Ace and Sade. My brother came out to support.
I step over to them and he stands. We embrace. “Thanks for coming, bruh.”
“Of course. Gotta support, fam,” he says.
I embrace Sade next and she asks, “Is she nervous? I couldn’t do this.”
“She’s good. A little nervous but she’s ready. Thanks for coming, sis.”
“Where’s Niya?” he asks.
“We didn’t know how far this might go, so she’s with Shuga. They’re going to watch it on TV,” I tell him.
“Where you at with this Shuga shit?” he asks.
“Still trying to wrap my head around it. It’s wild. None of us knew, not even Asali’s ass. That’s why she really put a lock on the basement.”
“Facts! I had no clue. She gon’ divorce that nigga, right?”
“Oh for sure. There’s no coming back. I’m giving her time and I’m going to let her approach me first. I’m a criminal defense lawyer but I’ll handle that shit. She’ll be straight,” I assure him.
“I know she will be with you handling it,” Ace says.
We dap and I continue to the front. I hug and greet Alex and Kyrah then get back to my wife. I’m actually going to walk her out to the stage then take my seat once it starts.
“You ready?” my wife asks as soon as I open the door. She’s standing, looking gorgeous in a dark blue pantsuit, blue heels, and a diamond lady of justice brooch on her lapel. The judge is here.
“I see you are definitely ready,” I say, smiling. As badly as I want to kiss her, I refrain. Instead, I place my hand on the small of her back and lead her out of the room.
“What Richardson failed to state when he so dismissively looked at my career was that I was top three in my graduating class at CFU Law and I was editor in chief of the Law Review Journal while he was in the lower fifty percentile of his class.”
“Hol—”
“Excuse me. I have the floor. You had your turn. Now, it’s mine,” she says.
“Okay!” Alex utters lowly.
Up until this point, the debate has been pretty mild and standard. That quickly changed when Richardson did a quick, three-sentence summary of my wife’s career. As he spoke, I knew he was in trouble because she was tapping her foot the entire time.
“He also didn’t mention that during my three years of law school, I interned with the District Attorney and under D.A.
Hartfold, I secured five convictions. He failed to also mention that after I was sworn to the Bar, I went into private practice and successfully defended my clients.
See, I worked both sizes of the law to learn and master it.
My bench represents equal justice. With me as the judge, the scales never tip,” she says and the center erupts with applause.
Hell, I stand too because she nailed that shit.
As beet red as Richardson’s face is, he knows it too.
It’s heating up now and the gloves are off. As Richardson loosens his tie, the moderator and reporter, Anja Brown, tries to calm the crowd.
“Okay. Okay. Let’s settle down so I can ask the next question,” Anja says over the clapping. “Thank you. Mr. Richardson, your run for judge came as a shock to a lot of people. What made you enter the race?” she asks once the crowd calms.
After clearing his throat, Richardson grabs his mic then says, “I felt compelled to run because Crescent Falls deserves more than a sex worker as their judge.”
Nigga what!
The entire crowd has my same reaction and a concert of gasps fill the room, followed by a deafening silence.
“Excuse me!” my wife yells.
“What did he say?” Alex asks.
“I don’t think I heard you right. Can you please repeat that?” Anja says, sounding perplexed too.
“I think you heard me, so I’ll let the judge repeat it. She’s the one who worked for Madame Giselle in college. She failed to mention that in her little details,” he says, sounding like a bitch.