Chapter 7 #2
When she sighed, I knew it was some bullshit. Bullshit I didn’t have the capacity to handle today, or any other day since finding out about Duke’s bastard baby. Lord forgive me, but that’s what she was. As cute, innocent and precious as she was.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Mr. Carter,” she paused. “He filed a complaint.”
“What?”
“Mr. Carter. He—”
“No… I heard you,” I said, shaking my head. “I heard you, Tami. It’s—he complained?”
Of course he complained. The sad part about hearing that he filed a complaint was that I didn’t expect that out of a man like him.
He did strike me as a man who went after what he wanted but never did I expect him to be petty.
To pull a bitch ass nigga move like this one.
That’s what it was. A bitch made move. I’d just transferred his case not even a week ago and he was complaining already?
He’d only met with Shar twice since then.
How could he have something to complain about already?
It didn’t make any sense. He was lying. Pretending to have an issue just so that I would take him on as a direct client again.
Shar was great—she’d never received a complaint before.
Now all of a sudden when she’s working with him, she gets one? Bullshit.
“Yeah. About thirty minutes ago. He actually just left. Made a formal complaint before he left the building. Shar is messed up behind it too. With him being a high-profile client, she’s worried about losing her job and everything.
She’s been a nervous wreck. I forwarded you the complaint. You should have it by now.”
I ran my hand over my forehead with a deep breath.
Life didn’t stop just because I was going through a rough time.
Wasn’t it fucked up? How I had to be a mother and a boss in the middle of what I considered a crisis?
It would have been nice to get a break. To escape from reality.
Truly. Not the way I did when I was at that hotel room, with people tracking me down.
A true break. A real getaway. I just… I didn’t want to be Mahogany with all of the issues for a few days.
“Okay, Tami, thanks for letting me know. I’m going to take a look at it and give Shar a call right after.”
“Please do. The poor girl is a nervous wreck,” Tamia said before we hung up.
Instead of immediately checking my email, I stood there a minute, with my hands flat on the vanity and my head down.
I sighed and shook my head. Mr. Crescent fucking Carter.
He knew I couldn’t handle a complaint. He knew how important Couture and the contract we shared was to me.
Why would he complain? Just to get my attention?
I didn’t want to deal with him. Crazy right?
Initially I ran from him because I was so hellbent on saving my marriage.
Today, I didn’t have a marriage worth saving.
I should have been ecstatic. Should have run into his arms with ease.
Should have been eager to get him between my legs again. But I wasn’t.
I was in emotional turmoil.
I just hid it well. You think I wanted to fold clothes?
You think I wanted to cook, clean, mother?
I wanted to be in bed. I wanted to curl up in fetal position, cry, and feel sorry for myself.
But I couldn’t. I wasn’t allowed to feel my feelings.
I had to stuff them down. Stuffing them down, however, wasn’t working for me.
I felt pain. Pain in my chest. My bones…
they ached. My muscles… they were sore. The emotions I stuffed down were attacking my body.
My phone dinged with a notification from Gmail, reminding me of the complaint I was supposed to check.
With a deep breath, I swiped the notification away and hit the Gmail app.
It didn’t take me long to find the email.
It was at the top, received ten minutes ago.
Why didn’t I hear the… oh yeah. I was distracted by hate.
On the iPad with Duke’s dusty, trifling dick ass.
Crossing one arm over my chest, I checked the complaint.
Incompetence. Lack of vision. Poor attention to detail.
Poor communication skills. I huffed. Not once had I heard anything like that about Shar.
Crescent was full of shit. There was more in the complaint.
Something about disorganization. I just clicked off the app and immediately went over to my phone app to give Shar a call.
She answered almost immediately, and we scheduled a time to sit down tomorrow morning.
I had to see her first, before meeting with dumb ass.
The next morning, I woke up the same way I woke up the morning before, and the one before that one—sad as hell, to a damp pillow.
I cried myself to sleep last night. At night, when the kids slept and my world was at ease were the only times, I was able to really feel what I felt.
Which were a ton of things I didn’t have the mental capacity to ruminate over.
It was day four.
Day four with him out of the house.
Day four with me having to figure out how I was going to maneuver around what happened. Well, I knew what I was going to do. Just didn’t know what I would do about the kids. Last night, before bedtime, Gabe came in and asked me if I was okay. He asked about Duke too.
With a deep breath, I got up and looked at my phone.
Had a ton of missed text messages from Duke.
Sending shit back-to-back to back-to-back.
About love. About forgiveness. About mistakes.
He sent long ass paragraphs about Diary and how her mother was dead and about how he found out.
He explained it all. Went into great detail.
Talked about feelings and responsibilities and family, and a bunch of shit I didn’t care to read about.
I didn’t give a fuck. Didn’t give a fuck about none of it.
He was wasting his time because my mind was made up.
So, what he hadn’t been living a double life?
The fact was he had a baby on me and that was enough.
After getting up, I got the kids together and had them grab something quick from the freezer to eat.
The morning was slow and quiet. There wasn’t any arguing, no push back, no confusion…
nothing. Not even a bit of laughter. The climate in the house was already changing.
Once they were situated, I got myself together and dropped them off.
Today, nobody asked when dad would be coming home.
Once the house was empty, I had a quick Teams meeting with Shar.
It went how I expected it to go. With her being confused but admitting to being intimidated.
She didn’t want to work with Crescent neither.
Especially not after he complained about her.
I told her I would see what I could do. I really didn’t want to transfer her off, but because the work relationship was strained, I didn’t see any other way around it.
Once I got off with her, I had Tami schedule an emergency meeting with Skylight Industries, hoping to see him today.
Without a plan. Without a script. I didn’t need one.
I knew how I was going to handle Crescent Carter.
A couple of hours later the meeting was confirmed and, I was dressed in a form fitting knee length navy dress, a cream blazer and nude-colored pumps, walking through the towering black doors of Skylight Industries.
Because I was in no mood to install a wig, I pulled my real hair back into a low bun and threw a couple of squiggly baby hairs in the front.
“Good morning, welcome to Skylight Industries. What can I do for you?” Greeted the receptionist with a bright smile.
Skylight Industries was nothing like Couture.
It was huge, tripling n size. From where I stood, I could see that there were three levels and on each level there were people hustling about.
The sound of talking, heels clinking and laughter drowned out the sound of soft elevator music.
The décor was, as expected, very Crescent coded.
Dark. In shades of black, gray and silver.
There was a ton of marble. On the walls, on the floor, on the counters.
Skylight Industries was lavish, with very high glass ceilings, letting in a ton of natural lighting. It was…immaculate.
“Mahogany Mills…Morris,” I hesitated to say. “Here to see Crescent Carter. I have a meeting with him scheduled for eleven.”
I didn’t speak with him directly. Refused to.
Not until we were face-to-face. I had my business hat strapped on very tight.
Later was that smitten shit. Crescent had to not only see me but feel me too.
And definitely not in the way I knew he wanted to.
I’d yet to show him just how serious I took business and Couture’s reputation.
I was a boss in every sense of the word.
My actions lately might not have reflected that, but it was true.
I didn’t get the reputation of top decorator in the region just because I knew about color schemes, and where to put what.
I got it because I was exceptional at handling business, too.
The receptionist typed around on her computer and after a couple of seconds said, “Ah, you’re listed as Mahogany Mills. Must be a clerical error. I can—”
“It’s fine,” I said through a soft smile. “You can… you can leave it.”
Of course I was entered as Ms. Mahogany Mills. That was very Crescenty of him. I didn’t get annoyed by it. Because hello… I was getting a divorce.
“Alrighty,” said the receptionist after ending her call. “Mr. Carter will see you now. Alvin will escort you right up.”
I’d been so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t notice the young man wearing a tailored suit, walk up. He was poised, with his arms crossed at the wrists, wearing a smile. Mr. Carter was fancy; Skylight Industries had its own concierge team.