Woman on Top Page 14

  Upon exiting the elevator and making our way down the freshly laid red carpet, I felt like we were celebrities. The media, now turned paparazzi, snapped pictures and asked for sound bites, while guests complimented me on the Huffington Post article and the spectacular evening. Brother Sadiq and I stopped to take selfies with guests and pictures with Lou Mendels, who I knew would be hounding me for photos all night. Philadelphia Style and Entertainment Tonight (who were there because of my brother and other expected celebrities) were interviewing people as they arrived. This would definitely be a night I’d never forget.

  Having entered the ballroom, my eyes landed on Raquel Turner-Cosby and her guest, the managing partner of the law firm, Mitchell & Ness, Cynthia Cunningham, another powerful woman in the city, who was infamous for her work with the LGBT community. Which made me wonder if they were business partners or lovers.

  What also made this evening different was instead of the typical boring fashion show, we had pop-up boutiques from 4Sisters Designs, Boyd’s of Philadelphia, WXYZ, and Tory Burch, just to name the few that I could see from where we were standing.

  As Brother Sadiq and I stood talking with the School Board CEO, Dr. Hite and his wife, I noticed the noise level building and people flocking to the foyer.

  My brother had arrived, and was throwing his signature kiss my way. He was wearing a custom fitted black and white tux and on his arm was R&B singer Ciara, dressed in a stunning emerald green cocktail dress.

  Here it was my young brother, who’d been seen out with the likes of Nikki Minaj, Tika Sumpter, La La Anthony, and photographed out with Victoria Secret model, Jada, now shows up with Ciara. Now I understood why his new love interest hadn’t wanted to be flaunted, she’d been through that parade already. I couldn’t wait to talk to my sister.

  As he made his way to our table, paparazzi followed, along with guests taking pictures with their camera phones, all of which would have social media in a frenzy. Jose, his bodyguard was with him and didn’t interfere because he knew my brother enjoyed the attention.

  “Ciara, this here is my family,” he said introducing me, Kamille and Brandon, all of whom tried not to act cool.

  “Good evening, Ciara, welcome to Philadelphia,” I said, greeting the beautiful young woman.

  “Thank you, your brother talks about the two of you all the time.”

  “Really, and we thought he only talked about himself,” teased my sister.

  I whispered to him, “I didn’t think you were really coming. Don’t you have a game tomorrow?”

  “Private jet got me here and will get me back. Stop worrying,” he whispered. “Aren’t my sisters beautiful?” he said, kissing me, then Kamille.

  “Yes they are, and your event,” she looked around, “very classy and for a good cause.”

  Without realizing it, Mrs. Cosby had sidled up next to me for an introduction.

  “Huli, Ciara, I’d like you to meet Mrs. Raquel Turner-Cosby of RTC Holdings.”

  Once that was done, she took over the conversation, giving me a chance to move around the room to greet others.

  Surveying the silent auction items that lined the sides of the room, there were awesome items up for bid that included, an all-inclusive 10-day Mediterranean cruise, a five-piece art collection by E. Brown, one-year wine supply from the Jordan Vineyard and Winery in California, and three nights at The Lodge at Woodloch.

  Jason Wu and his wife were seated at the City table alongside Wesley and Curtiss, who didn’t look too happy to be there. As I began to maneuver through the crowd toward Curtiss, Council President Evelyn Gillman stopped me, and complimented me on the evening’s turnout, which was surprising because she hardly acknowledged me.

  As hard as I tried, I couldn’t make it to the other side of the ballroom to personally greet my former boss from Platinum Images, Sasha Borianni and her husband, New Jersey State Senator, Trent Russell. The best we could do was wave to each other, as her husband was flocked by reporters, who all had questions on his possible run for Congress.

  I did, though, stop and chat with Janae who, dressed in a form fitting black dress, wanted to introduce me to two dates, Eagles players Conner Barwin and Miles Austin. I could certainly see why she liked the freedom of her lifestyle. That’s when I noticed Nanny had arrived and was giving Jason Wu an earful. Standing beside Nanny was a voluptuous Tootie, who I rarely saw outside of her Septa uniform, in a black gown that fit all her curves; she was stunning.

  Back at my table with Max and Lynn, we engaged in conversation with Marshall and Carmen Dillon and were later joined by Max’s other friends, Chris and Christy, where I thanked them profusely for their donation and for coming to the gala. Max, of course, teased me, by inquiring about Brother Sadiq.

  I was about to take my seat when I felt her nudging me, saying, “Here comes your man.”

  Assuming it was Malik, I turned around, but instead it was Mr. Haney and he wasn’t alone.

  “Good evening, everyone,” he said to my group, with his arm around the waist of a striking Asian woman, wearing a sweeping gray silk gown.

  “Mr. Haney,” I said.

  Taking my hand and kissing the underside of my wrist, he said, “First Lady you are breathtaking this evening.”

  Shaking my hand free, I introduced Brother Sadiq, Max, Lynn, and their friends.

  “I’m sorry, allow me to introduce the lovely, Sato,” he said, motioning toward the woman whose dress was cut deep enough in the front to reveal a small dragon tattoo on each of her swelling breasts. “She’s the new President of the Asian Arts Initiative.”

  “An honor to meet you, Mrs. Skinner. Gregory says you’re a woman on the rise and one to be admired.”

  “Thank you. I think it’s time to take our seats,” I told everyone, however when they walked away from me, I noticed a dolphin shaped diamond barrette holding back her slicked black hair. I was outraged because it now meant Haney had sent me the diamond clip and not my husband. In a panic that someone else might notice we were wearing matching barrettes, my hand went straight to my hair to remove, it but it was tucked in too deep.

  Much didn’t get past Max, as she asked, “Wait a minute, are you and Haney’s trollop wearing matching diamond clips? Somebody’s been naughty.”

  “No, I haven’t. I thought it was from Malik. What am I going to do?”

  “Nothing.”

  The lights began to flicker, signaling time for the official part of the evening to begin so we took our seats. Alex and Mike took to the stage greeting everyone and opening the live auction. There was a photo shoot with Erskine Isaac; 10-piece wardrobe outfitted by the design house of FNO; golf outing for two at the exclusive Pine Valley Golf Club, a weekend with my brother at an LA Angels game, and a movie walk-on role for the film, The Velvet Rope.

  Haney’s table was in my direct line of sight, so I couldn’t help but notice the attention he paid to Sato, affectionately touching her, smoothing back her hair and intermittently kissing her bare shoulder. And she reciprocated, laughing at his jokes, her hand under the table, presumably between his legs. Their antics made my imagination soar with thoughts of what they were doing in the bedroom and it also ignited a memory, a voracious memory. After having been with him one night, he called me to his office on the pretense of wanting to talk about his son, as he was concerned with rumors he’d heard about G-dog selling drugs. It was certainly something we needed to discuss because he was doing it in my club. When I arrived there was lunch set up on his credenza, but we never got to eat or talk. Mr. Haney, the most powerful man in the city took advantage of that closed door and after binding my wrists with his necktie, he’d pushed me onto my knees, filling my mouth with him until I gagged from his release. The mere thought of his capabilities made me excuse myself to the ladies room.

  They’d begun to clear the dinner dishes and were preparing for dessert when Michael alerted me that it was time to make my way to the stage. According to Michael, there were at least 500 people in the packed bal
lroom, making me realize that I’d never spoken in front of so many people. It was one thing being at Malik’s side, but totally different having the spotlight on me. I was nervous as hell.

  My heart galloped when I stood up, smoothed out my dress, and took one last sip of water. I dried my clammy hands on my napkin and tried to think of every anecdote I’d ever heard about public speaking and decided to go with imagining everyone naked. My brother waited and then began the escort to the podium. I whispered to Huli, “Are they clapping for me or you?”

  “It’s all about you tonight, sis, kill it.”

  As I stood behind Mike Jerrick, he announced, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the woman whose dream of helping the helpless, the woman who sits besides the man in charge of this city, the creator of the Blessed Babies Wellness Center, our First Lady, the extraordinary Mrs. Tiffany Johnson-Skinner!”

  I hugged Mike and took my place in front of the microphone and while waiting for the applause to die down, I realized imagining a naked audience might not be a good idea.

  “Good evening everyone, what a beautiful night with a room full of beautiful people, for a great cause. Distinguished guests, there are not enough words to. . . this accomplishment we’re celebrating is a result of ours, and your combined—”

  I hesitated in my speech, noticing guests being distracted by a disturbance outside the ballroom. I glanced at Michael for some indication as to what was going on, but he nodded for me to keep talking. At my table I saw Brandon and Brother Sadiq get up from their seats and head toward the foyer.

  “. . . as a result of your donations, support, hugs. . . we’ll begin accepting babies on Tuesday morning, and I invite all of you to tour the facility and more importantly, to come spend time with our babies.”

  Then I saw Curtiss rush into the ballroom, retrieve her purse, and head back out.

  “. . . We the board of the Blessed Babies Wellness Center thank you. Please continue to enjoy yourselves and take advantage of the fabulous auction items.”

  From where I stood, I could see Malik being pulled away from Wesley and then the ballroom doors closed.

  “. . . and with that I turn the evening over to our hosts to get this party started. . . entertainment by the beautiful and talented Jazmine Sullivan.”

  The audience clapped when I finished speaking, but it was obvious they were more interested in whatever had transacted between my husband and Wesley.

  With Michael escorting me from the podium, I asked him, “What happened?”

  “An altercation with your husband and his friend.”

  “They were arguing here? Malik and Wesley?” I asked, heading directly to the lobby without stopping at my table. I couldn’t imagine what could’ve caused them to argue here at my event.

  “Tiffany, wait!”

  When I reached the lobby, Phinn, Blu Eyes, and Keenan were surrounding Malik to keep the media at bay.

  Moving in between them, I asked, “What happened?” But flanked by his security he’d already begun walking away from me. “Malik, where are you going?”

  Turning back to me, he said, “It’s best if I leave, I’m sorry about all this.”

  “I’m leaving with you.”

  “You don’t have to do that, it’s your event.”

  “Malik, you are not leaving me behind.”

  His security details escorted us out of the lobby, where the Tahoe sat idling in the carport.

  While Blu Eyes drove, Malik sat next to me in the backseat, texting on his mobile. No one said a word until we were about to get out of the car. Then, Blu Eyes turned to him and said, “I’ll talk to him.”

  “Don’t bother.”

  “Malik, that wasn’t right, he disrespected you in public. I don’t care what you say. I’m gonna talk to that nigga.”

  After a moment, Malik said, “Do what you want.”

  Inside the house, Malik went into the kitchen, where he poured from a half empty bottle of Le Reviseur that sat on the kitchen table. There was also an ice bucket and glasses on the counter.

  “Malik, you need to tell me what happened,” I begged, still not knowing any details and refusing to be shut out.

  He took a long swallow from his glass, then said, “I told him I’d have someone investigate the gang theory, but now he comes to your event, accusing me of giving the job to Wu for kickbacks. Says I didn’t have his back, that I broke the code. I don’t know even know what he’s talking about, but if he keeps it up, he’s going to lose his job altogether. I’m not going to let him humiliate me in public. Blu could’ve hurt him in there.” He downed his drink, poured another, then stated, “I may be his friend, but damn it, I’m the Mayor!”

  “What was wrong, was he drunk?”

  “I don’t know, but somebody’s filling his head up with a bunch of bullshit.”

  “C’mon sit down,” I said, guiding him into the family room. “Malik, I don’t care about the gala. I’m worried about what this is doing to you.”

  “It’s getting out of hand. I gotta fix this,” he said, from where he stood in the middle of the room.

  “You can’t fix it tonight baby, okay? So I want you to calm down some,” I said, gently pushing him to take a seat on the couch.

  “Tiffany, you don’t understand what I’m saying. He’s accusing me of taking kickbacks, if that mess gets out. . .”

  “Shhhh, didn’t Blu Eyes say he would talk to him?”

  His eyes searched mine for whatever reassurance I could give him.

  “We can deal with it tomorrow. There’s nothing you can do about it tonight.”

  Taking a seat on his lap, I began massaging circles from his temples to the nape of his neck. Tilting his head against the back of the couch, he moaned. “I don’t know what to do.”

  I kissed both of his closed eyelids, and in turn, he brought his arms around me, pressing the cold glass against my warm back. He said, “I love you, Tiffany.”

  “And one of the reasons why I love you is because you’re a brilliant man, who always knows what to do.”

  In an effort to unbuckle his pants, I began to straddle him, that is until my foot became tangled around something between the cushions. Shaking loose what was probably one of Nylah’s toys, the object fell to the floor. Reaching down to pick it up, I noticed it was a red lanyard from which hung an ID badge, bearing the picture and name of Cyndi Kilrain.

  “Malik, what is this?” I asked calmly, not wanting to jump to conclusions too soon.

  “What?” he mumbled, his eyes still closed, eager for me to continue undressing him.

  With the badge swinging from its lanyard, I exploded from his lap, waving it in front of him. “Open your eyes Malik. What is this doing here?”

  “Uh, what is that?” he asked, yanking the badge from my hand.

  “I’m not stupid. It’s obvious she was here!”

  He sat up straight, with his creased brows showing the strain of the night and now my accusation on his face.

  “I was in Harrisburg last night, you know that.”

  “You’re lying! Did you screw her in my house?”

  “You sound foolish. Please don’t start that again.”

  “Then why every time I’m gone, I come home to find her shit? Next it’ll be her panties.”

  “Why do you have to have such a nasty mouth?”

  “And why do you have to act like every other stereotypical nigga, with a white mistress,” I said, slamming my feet back into my shoes.

  He drowned the remainder of his drink and slammed the glass back on the end table. “I don’t believe this, do you know how ridiculous you sound?”

  “Do I? And you want me to have another baby? Now that’s what’s ridiculous.”

  He stood up and we were now face-to-face, closer than we’d ever been while arguing. Yet when I thought about it, this was the worst argument we’d ever had since getting married. To know things had gotten this bad scared me, but I wasn’t about to back down, not when it came to his sleeping
with another woman.

  “Is that why you haven’t gotten pregnant? Because you think I’m sleeping with Cyndi or are you still taking them pills?”

  I hadn’t mentioned it to Malik, I’d stopped using birth control when I came home from Woodloch. But I wasn’t going to tell him that now. I stayed silent.

  He said, “Why don’t you be honest? You’re the one who’s been walking around here like you’re the damn Mayor, ever since you started with that Turner-Cosby woman. Everybody’s talking about you and her, so you tell me who the hell do you think you are?”

  Now I was really confused. How had this argument become about me, and Raquel Turner-Cosby? I’d never bragged to him or anyone about my meeting her or the donation, but I guess everyone else had put me on top of a pedestal without my asking to be there.

  “What are you talking about? Nobody’s changed, you need to stop listening to those bitches in your office. But wait, maybe you’re jealous ’cause I landed the big fish for my little non-profit, when you couldn’t get a dime outta her for your damn campaign.”

  “Why would I be jealous of you? You’re my wife. That’s not what I meant, so stop acting crazy. I’ve had enough crazy for one night,” he said, turning his back on me, heading into the kitchen.

  “And why’d you lie about New Orleans? You had that all planned, her interviewing me, then coming down there to meet you. I swear, when this comes out, I will not be one of those dumb bitches standing by your side. NEVER!”

  “Nothing’s coming out, ’cause I’m not doing anything. Now let’s go to bed,” he demanded, grabbing me by the arm and pushing me toward the stairs.

  “Just like that, you think you can dismiss me? I’m leaving,” I told him, shaking myself loose from him and then heading toward the garage.

  Dumbfounded that I would actually leave, he stood watching me grab my purse and keys.

  Following directly behind me, he yelled, “Tiffany, don’t you leave this house!”

  Before opening the car door, I took another glance back at him, wondering if maybe I was making a mistake, but his cheating had become way too obvious. “Goodbye, Malik!”