Chapter 4
Albany
STAWWWPPP! Mr. Batchelor betta stop playin’. The streets are talking, and these women are talkin’. Join me later tonight for the scoop from a woman who says she spent a pretty forgettable night with the Batchelor heir. Perhaps, he’s more like his father than we thought. Y’all know the history.
“I can’t do this,” I grumbled to myself as I scrolled for more Ms. Tea content. All morning, I’d plummeted down the rabbit hole of gossip content. And by the fifth video, I was officially tired of social media.
I nibbled on my thumbnail as I reviewed the notes I’d jotted in my planner.
As much as I couldn’t stand Wesley, I couldn’t figure out what he’d done to warrant the attacks.
While I wasn’t a person who spent my days online, cracking up at videos, watching silly commentary about people I didn’t know, I was familiar with some of the players.
My job required me to know shit. Business shit. Celebrity shit. Random shit.
The Batchelor family was well-known in certain circles but only a few of Granny Joyce’s grandchildren used their status to be seen.
Wes wasn’t one of them. He had personal pages, but his last IG post was in 2019.
And TikTok … It took me several minutes to track down his profile.
Judging by the lack of activity, I assumed he’d only created a page to watch the chatter about him.
Sighing, I stared at the screen. Ms. Tea had posts dating back several years, but before that …
nothing. The first post was a random share of another person’s post. It wasn’t until last year that she joined the Hot Topics hemisphere.
She built her following covering national stories and shading other content creators.
I could see why the viewers loved her. The influencer was witty.
Her reads were thorough. And she gave zero fucks about clapbacks.
But the question still remained … Why Wes?
Over the past month, the coverage of Wes had become increasingly hostile.
Nasty. Almost personal. Hell, during the most recent post, Ms. Tea had dragged Wesley all up and through the streets of Detroit with her biting commentary.
Despite her anonymity, it was obvious the influencer was from the “D.” Her knowledge of the city rivaled my own, even her vernacular sounded distinctly like home.
The way she talked indicated she was younger, maybe a millennial. Gen X?
The woman spoke like she knew Wesley, too.
This wasn’t a casual acquaintance. A jilted lover?
Disgruntled employee? Or a devious family member?
Knowing everything I did about the Batchelor family, I wouldn’t be surprised if John or any of his spoiled offspring had something to do with this. There was no love lost between them.
The fact that the TikTokker brought up Wes’s father didn’t sit right with me either.
Cedric Batchelor had died well before it was popular to post every daily activity on social media.
His death had been the culmination in a years-long clusterfuck that threatened to destroy their family.
Everyone had been affected. Including me.
I can’t do this.
Even after all this time, I still hurt for Wesley.
The circumstances surrounding his father’s death had taken a huge toll on him, changed him.
And not for the better. Which is why I knew taking this case would be a mistake.
Because the last thing I needed was to feel sorry for the person who shattered my heart.
“You have company, Albany.”
I glanced up from my laptop just in time to see my grandmother follow Brianna into the room. “Grandma?” I stood and embraced her. “It’s so early. What brings you over here?”
Grandma set her cane down and gingerly took a seat at the kitchen table. “I was in the neighborhood because I have physical therapy. Decided to stop by and check you out.”
“I wish you had told me you were coming by.” I straightened up a bit, clearing the mail off the table, tossing my plate in the trash, and setting my glass in the dishwasher. “Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea?”
“No, Pooh.” As a child, I was fixated on Winnie-the-Pooh. The nickname, short for Pooh Bear, had followed me from childhood to adulthood. “I’m fine. I just wanted to lay eyes on you.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t been by to see you this week. I’ve been busy.”
“Busy working?”
I hated lying to my grandmother about everything that had been going on in my life. Scratching the back of my neck, I averted my gaze. “Yes. I got a job offer yesterday.”
“I heard,” Grandma said. “I had dinner with Joyce last night, and she mentioned you’d dropped by to see her. But she also told me you hadn’t made a final decision yet.”
After my conversation with Bri, I had drafted two emails.
One thanking Granny Joyce for the opportunity but turning her down graciously.
Another accepting the job with gratitude for the business.
In the end, after I realized my checking account was overdrawn because I’d forgotten to cancel my homeowner’s insurance, I’d sent the second message.
“I emailed her first thing this morning,” I explained, choosing not to delve into my reasons.
Grandma met my gaze, all-seeing, all-knowing. She studied my face, assessing me from the top of my head to my feet. “You look skinny,” she said finally. “Are you eating?”
Swallowing, I nodded. “Of course. Just had a bagel with lots of cream cheese.”
“I can see we’re getting nowhere.” Grandma grimaced and shifted in her chair.
“In life, we make decisions, Pooh. Those decisions are not always the right ones, but we have to deal with the consequences anyway. The good news is bad decisions don’t define us.
I can see you’re not ready to tell me the truth, so I won’t push.
I just want you to know that I’m here to listen when you want to talk. ”
Tears burned my eyes and throat. “I’m fine, Grandma. Just trying to get settled.”
Again, Grandma looked at me, through me. Without speaking, she pulled an envelope out of her belt bag and set it on the table. “One of the reasons I’m successful is because I know how to read people.”
Olivia Keyes had amassed quite the empire since she’d purchased her first department store at the young age of twenty-five with the help of Albany’s late grandfather, who also owned several strip malls in the Ann Arbor area.
As an only child, she inherited his company and created Keyes Investments.
Business had been good to the shrewd businesswoman and Grandma was currently in the process of developing a state-of-the-art shopping center in Downtown Detroit.
“Divorce final?” Grandma asked.
I paused, trying to remember how much I’d divulged to my grandmother when I’d told her I was leaving Darrell. “Yesterday.”
“Good. It’s never easy to divorce. Even if you can’t stand the bastard you married.”
Chuckling, Albany agreed. “That’s true.”
I had never known my grandfather, had only seen pictures of him. Essentially, Grandma Liv had erased his existence. She’d even changed all her kids’ names to her maiden name because of the shame associated with being Donald Witherspoon’s jilted wife.
The scandal was legendary in their small hometown of Ypsilanti, Michigan.
I had made the mistake of asking my grandmother about the man she’d married and was promptly shut down.
It wasn’t until I was a teenager that I’d discovered the real reason no one dared speak of the man.
Not only had he cheated on Grandma for years, but he’d also chosen to move in—and marry—his mistress while he was still married to Grandma.
“How did you move past it?” I asked.
“I took everything with me when I left that fool.” She shrugged. “By the time I was done with him, he and his wife didn’t have a pot to piss in.”
“Do you regret it?”
Grandma flashed a sad smile. “I have to say … the best revenge is to live well and love better.” She chuckled.
“I tried, Pooh, but I can’t even lie. Not even to help you feel better.
The truth is, revenge was sweet. After what he put me through, I don’t regret anything I’ve done to make his life hell. ”
“I’m done with love,” I confessed.
Grandma patted my hand. “You’re too young and too beautiful to say that.
I have many regrets, but my biggest regret is that I let bitterness close my heart to new love for so long.
Don’t be like me. In a year’s time, that asshole won’t even faze you.
He’ll be a small dot on the larger map of your life. A landfill.”
I cracked up. “You’re hilarious, Grandma.”
She sighed and stood. “I’m just telling the truth. Give me a kiss and walk me to the door.”
Doing as I was told, I linked arms with her and led her toward the front of the condo. “I love you. I’m glad I’m home.”
“I’ll be glad when you finally tell me everything,” Grandma retorted. Then she pointed at the envelope on the table. “In the meantime, take that blessing and stop being so damn stubborn.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, unable to stop the tear that fell.
Grandma dashed it away with her thumb. “I’m always here for you. No matter what.”
As we walked toward the door slowly, we chatted about my plans for the weekend. “I’ll stop by tomorrow,” I announced. “We’ll have lunch and watch a movie or something.”
Grandma frowned. “Pooh, no. Tomorrow is poker night. I’m not watching no movie. We can do that Sunday. After you get your hair braided. They look a little raggedy.”
Laughing, I nodded. “I’ll make the appointment today. And Sunday it is.”