Woman on Top Page 17

  “He’s your husband’s friend, and I hear he used to work in homicide until the Mayor pulled him into his detail.”

  Before I could ask him about Cyndi, the girls came racing downstairs and Nylah screamed out, “Hi, Mr. Phinn!”

  “Morning Nylah, who’s your friend?”

  “My cousin, Sheema! She spent the night,” she said, referring to Tootie’s daughter.

  “Good morning, Sheema, how old are you?”

  She held up four fingers, then Nylah chimed in. “I’m older than her.”

  “Yes Nylah, we know you’re a big girl. C’mon girls, you can eat in the family room, that way you can finish watching that Lego movie, how’s that?”

  “Here, let me help,” Phinn offered, taking the trays from my hands and placing them on the coffee table in the family room.

  “Hope you don’t mind, I fixed your plate,” I said when Phinn returned to find a hearty plate of food on the counter in front of him.

  “Thanks, this looks so good,” he said, while absentmindedly, stirring butter into his grits. “Mind if I ask you something, Mrs. Skinner?”

  “Not at all, what is it?”

  “Mr. Haney, what’s up with him?”

  I caught myself stuttering, “We. . . well. . . he’s working with Malik and he helped me out on a few things for the center,” I said, keeping my back to him.

  “And you meeting him in King of Prussia, can I ask what that was about?”

  The phone buzzed again, and this time I was glad for the interruption.

  “Hey sis, you all right?” Kamille asked when I answered.

  “Yeah, I’m good. I’m staying in,” I reassured her, while watching Phinn as he ate.

  “You want me to send some food over?” Then, there was a pause before she asked, “Who’s that man talking? It doesn’t sound like Malik,” she said when she heard Phinn in the background talking to the girls who had just come into the kitchen.

  “No silly, I do not have a man in my house. I mean, it is a man, it’s Phinn.”

  “Oh.” Then, my sister said, “What the hell is up with Wesley? I never thought he’d be a snitch.”

  “Lotta surprises these days. I’ll call you later, okay?” I said, but before I could hang up a text came through from Max.

  Max: Concerned about you. Call me when you can Luv Max.

  Tiffany: No worries, will call later.

  And if the calls and text messages weren’t enough, the doorbell chimed.

  Phinn and I both looked toward the vestibule because I certainly wasn’t expecting anyone.

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll get it,” he said, already headed toward the door.

  “Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson,” I heard him say to my parents.

  “Mom, Dad what are you doing here?” I asked when they walked into the kitchen, both looking at me, questioning me with their eyes about who the man was in my house. I introduced them to him. “This is Phinn, Malik’s security, and mine.”

  My father shook Phinn’s hand. “Good morning, son,” he said, before kissing me on the cheek and asking, “Where’s my granddaughter?”

  I looked over my shoulder. That fast, the girls had darted out of the kitchen. “In there, she has company,” I answered, nodding toward the family room.

  My father went into the room and I heard Nylah squealing for her Pop-Pop.

  “Anymore coffee?” my mother asked, still giving Phinn the evil eye.

  “Sure Mom, let me get you a cup.”

  I was sure Phinn was feeling uncomfortable, especially when he said, “I’d better go, shifts will be changing soon. Thanks for breakfast, Mrs. Skinner.”

  Being confined to the house for the day proved to be beneficial. My parents took the girls to the zoo and I gave the housekeeper the day off. With things having slowed down for me, I realized I’d been neglecting my home. It was clean, but the cupboards were empty and I’d gotten so carried away with shopping lately that I hadn’t done the wash in a month, which was the one thing Malik preferred that I do. I started with a load of clothes, then made a shopping list, and finally unpacked two boxes that had arrived from Net-A-Porter.

  I worked on notes for the BBWC files, and paid some bills. In checking my emails, I’d been invited to Fairfax, VA and Canton, Ohio to speak about the Wellness Center, one being a panel discussion on infant mortality and the other on prenatal cocaine exposure. It was an honor to have been invited, but I needed to make sure these people understood that I wasn’t an expert. I forwarded those requests to Janae for us to discuss.

  The day at home also gave me time to think about Haney’s question: what was I was considering for my next project. I’d always been busy volunteering and working on BBWC, never thinking it would lead to other cities wanting to develop our model. According to Michael, there was real money out there as a consultant, but I wasn’t sure how that would affect my home life. However, the idea of receiving a paycheck did appeal to me.

  The only thing was Nylah would be starting first grade in September, and before we married, we’d agreed that we’d have at least two children. In thinking of Malik’s political career, it would be good optics for me to be pregnant when he began campaigning for re-election. Maybe that would keep him out of Cyndi’s bed, though the more I thought about it, I began to believe that maybe he was telling the truth.

  When we’d had our big breakup during the time I was seeing G-Dog and subsequently seeing Haney, the woman he’d taken up with was white and she’d been polished, degreed, and a lawyer like himself. That’s what made me even more suspicious of Cyndi. However, if he wasn’t willing to admit to an affair, and I didn’t have confirmation, then I tended to believe my husband. He simply had too much to lose to take up with that woman.

  Hoping Malik made it home at a decent hour, I pulled a bag of frozen shrimp from the freezer, tossing them with scallions and mushrooms over brown rice. For myself, I uncorked a bottle of Caymus, fixed a plate and took a seat in front of the television in time for the five o’clock news.

  After a replay of Wesley’s interview, they began showing the public’s reaction to Wesley’s accusations, which were pro and con as they related to Malik.

  “I knew he was too good to be true. No mayor can be that popular.”

  “Let’s stop beating the man up, he’s done a lotta good for this city.”

  “Look, the brother is raising the minimum wage.”

  “He’s no better than the politicians before him, there’ve always been back room deals. I mean really, isn’t that the culture of politics in this town?”

  “As an African-American he’s made great strides for this city, better than any of his white predecessors. We’re out of the red and I’d say that makes him a smart man.”

  Then came the political analysis from so-called experts and pundits.

  “He built his campaign on social media, but I don’t hear him talking about Mr. Lawson.”

  “How is it possible for two police officers to be killed and there be no arrests made?”

  Finally, they were on to the next story or so I thought, but as I began to thumb through the Parfum Rare book from Haney, I suddenly heard his voice coming from the television. LeAnne Jones from NBC10 had a microphone in front of Mr. Haney, outside the Juvenile Detention Center in West Philadelphia.

  “Mr. Haney, I know you and Mayor Skinner have had your differences in the past, but what’s your opinion on these allegations of him taking a kickback for the hiring of Jason Wu?”

  I held my breath waiting for his answer.

  “Believe me, you don’t get this far without a little dirt being slung; it builds character. Our mayor is a smart man, who right now is under attack and it’s always those closest to you. As for the untimely deaths of Officer’s Campbell and Fanelli, I believe the search for those responsible falls into the hands of Commissioner Outlaw.”

  I lay there on the couch thinking about this new Haney, the one with whom everyone seemed in awe. Certainly I’d given hi
m a second chance, and so far besides the elevator and Woodloch incidents, he’d done nothing but help me. It wasn’t his fault that I allowed him to excite me in places that he shouldn’t. I’m sure had he really wanted me, he would’ve had his way with me by now, but if I were honest with myself, that’s what made me want him even more. Maybe it was finally time for me to admit that Mr. Haney had changed, which prompted me to send a text to my husband.

  Tiffany: I love you

  Malik: Wait up for me.

  When the girls returned home, I fixed them dinner and then, let them play outside. Later that evening, I read the girls a story, but left the television on for at least another hour until they fell asleep. Nylah didn’t often have friends over, my sister’s boys were older than her so with the exception of scheduled play dates with the children at her school, the only one who spent the night was Sheema.

  I’d fallen asleep on the couch and didn’t hear Malik come in until he was sitting beside me, bourbon in one hand and a cigar in the other. He only combined those two things when he was thinking through a problem, and he never smoked in the house.

  “Hey,” I said, nuzzling underneath him.

  “Hey. Do you believe this is happening?” Malik pondered more out loud than to me directly.

  “I cooked.”

  “I saw it, thanks.”

  Reaching across him for the remote, I turned the television off.

  “I met with Leander and he knows it’s bull, but the man has to do his job. We can’t afford mistakes.”

  “Have you tried talking to Wesley?” I asked.

  “He’s only talking through his attorney, Aronowitz.”

  His tie was already hanging loosely around his shirt collar, so I pulled it through and tossed it around my own neck, hoping he’d see that I wanted to play.

  “I didn’t think he’d do this to me. I set him up with a nice job, kept his grade and salary. He was the one that blew it and now I can’t even fire him.”

  “Shhhh,” I told him, as his eyes closed and he wilted into the sofa.

  I sat up and unbuttoned his shirt, laid his cigar in the ashtray, then I sipped his drink.

  “Woman, what do I always tell you?”

  “All you got is your reputation.”

  I kissed him, and took another sip from his drink before setting it down on the end table.

  With his mobile vibrating on the couch beside us, I unbuckled his belt, wishing for once he didn’t have to answer.

  He looked at the caller id, sat up from his slouched position, and motioned for me to back off. “Skinner,” he answered, enthusiasm lost from his voice.

  He listened, sipped on his drink, then said, “Haney, man, I don’t have a lot of time. We gotta find a way to kill this story.”

  I knew there wasn’t much my husband wouldn’t do to further his political career and preserve his image, but this, his discussing his problem with Haney was absurd.

  He paused, then continued, “You’re saying he agreed to meet with you? All right, why don’t you come by the house,” he looked at his watch, “tonight, and we can talk.”

  It was obvious my husband had slipped into another persona, one in which I wasn’t familiar, if he thought I was going to allow that man in my home.

  He’d barely disconnected the call when I asked, “Did you invite that man over here?”

  “I need his help right now.”

  My mouth dropped open and I almost fell backward before I regained my composure and said, “Malik, that’s not a good idea.”

  I was up now, poised in front of him, my hand on one hip. “For what? He can’t help you, Wesley is your friend.”

  “I’m not so sure about that anymore,” he said, having propped his feet on the coffee table, landing on top of Parfum Rare.

  “Why not? You two might still be able to talk,” I told him even though I honestly didn’t believe that myself, but I continued. “What can Haney do? I mean, he’s not a lawyer; he’s been in trouble. How will that look?” But even while I spoke, I remembered Haney’s words from Woodloch when he said Malik would need him. He’d already been right about me. “I hope you’re not meeting with him alone.”

  “No, that’s why I have you here; this situation affects both of us.” He swirled his drink, then took a sip, adding, “He helped you get Turner-Cosby, didn’t he?”

  “Yes, but this is different,” I said not realizing I was pacing the floor in front of him.

  “How?”

  “Fine, you’re the mayor, it’s your decision, but I don’t like it.”

  So there I was at two o’clock in the morning, trying to talk my husband out of opening our home to the one man who was capable of making me behave like a reckless whore. And what was I doing when, minutes later, I was upstairs, foolishly trying to decide what to wear.

  “This is ridiculous,” I told myself, after I’d dabbed on the perfume Haney had given to me and applied a bit of sheer gloss to my lips before I pulled on a pair of jeans and a Clemson Tigers t-shirt.

  When the doorbell rang, and I heard Malik welcome him into our home, I almost wished Malik would’ve known about our past. Then, maybe he wouldn’t be inviting in the devil.

  I waited until they were settled in the living room before I slowly descended the back steps – but not before taking one final glance at myself in the mirror.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Skinner,” he said, standing up to shake my hand when I cautiously entered the living room.

  “Hello.”

  “You have a beautiful home,” he added, his eyes scanning our personal space.

  “Thank you,” I mumbled, trying to deny my arousal.

  “Haney, I know it’s late, but I appreciate you making time. What can I offer you to drink?” Malik asked him.

  “Whatever you have is good.”

  “Tiffany, can you please?”

  I went over to the cabinet and without even asking, I poured what I’d known Haney to drink, Old Grand Dad, fixed neat, Pappy for Malik and a fresh glass of Caymus for myself. I’d need to finish the bottle to get through this night.

  Malik patted the sofa for me to join him, and across from us, Haney sat in my husband’s favorite chair.

  “It’s late and I don’t want to keep you long, but it would help for you tell me a little about your friend,” Haney asked, as I tried to keep my eyes off him.

  Malik sipped his drink, then said, “We grew up together, looked out for each other. Then he took advantage of the position I put him in.”

  “Him and that other guy they call Blu Eyes, in Point Breeze, right?”

  “Yeah, pretty much.”

  “I take it Wesley knows where your skeletons are buried. We all have them,” he said, he eyes catching mine while I pretended to be absorbed in the process of watching the wine swirl in my glass.

  “My closets are empty.”

  “Is there any truth to what he’s saying?”

  “You mean about me getting money for bringing on Jason? Not really.”

  “I’m taking not really to mean you were aware that putting Wu in office would secure the Asian vote for your re-election.” Haney paused, then added, “And dump money into your campaign.”

  “That’s normal.”

  Haney shrugged his shoulders, then asked, “How much does he know about your campaign?”

  “Quite a bit.”

  “Married? Children? Illegal activities? A mistress maybe manipulating him?”

  “He’s engaged to a great woman, they have four small children, he’s a solid brother. As for another woman, why would that matter?”

  “It all matters in this game of politics, but if you prefer not to discuss that in front of your wife, I can understand.”

  Mr. Haney sounded like the intelligent and smooth politician that I’d known him to be when he was district attorney, a man who did things, who made bold, important moves, without asking permission. He was also a man who knew me intimately, in ways my husband didn’t.

  “I
t’s not illegal for his people to put money in my coffers. . . but morally speaking, I guess you could argue. . . well, you get it,” Malik said, trying to clean it up.

  Haney cut his eye toward me and said, “It’s called a favor.”

  “I don’t know, I guess it’s hard for me to believe Wesley’s out to get me. I mean, was it my fault he couldn’t handle the job I’d given him? Maybe I put too much on him.”

  “What can I say, a man without power, well, he’s a desperate man.”

  “Maybe somebody’s lining his pockets, using him to get to me. What do you think?”

  “Could be? Maybe it’s Councilwoman Gillman. I hear she wants to run for Mayor. It’s clear she doesn’t seem to favor you much. On the other hand, it could be someone you may have wronged. Sometimes revenge can run deep.”

  “Is it you?” I asked, my eyes now directly meeting his.

  That silenced both of them, and then Malik, with disapproval all over his face, said, “Tiffany, c’mon don’t start. He’s trying to help me out here.”

  “No, it’s okay, Mayor. It’s a fair question, and actually how do you know it’s not me?”

  “Is it you?” I repeated.

  “Regardless of my past with your husband, I love this city and if I can help the Mayor, then that’s part of my restitution as well. Plus, there’s no gain for me in this. Power is no longer my weakness, First Lady.”

  Now I pushed. “You went to jail behind my husband’s investigation and you’re telling me you don’t have a grudge against him?”

  “I did, and your husband certainly did benefit from my prosecution, but he was justified in what he did. I’m man enough to admit that.”

  I could practically see Malik’s chest swell with pride and it pissed me off that he was allowing Haney to patronize him. Didn’t he realize he was the one with power and Haney was neither a friend or an ally?

  “I appreciate that Haney, but here’s what I can tell you. The gang thing is real; Wesley was correct in that it’s a group of Asian girls, Ho Ching Girls, they call themselves.”

  “Malik, you didn’t tell me that.”

  He squeezed my thigh and said, “Wu brought in the East Coast Asian Gang Unit. Leander’s certain there’ll be an arrest in a few days.”