As I continue to work on "War Angel III: Catalina," I've decided to start sharing some chapters from the previous book, "War Angel II: Where Angels Fear to Tread." Enjoy and I hope you're ready for the final book and ALL that happens in its pages.
CHAPTER 7
Smoking
& Drinking
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ith his office door closed, after smoking five
Newport 100’s and drinking half a bottle of cognac, Lenox realized that he was
happy that he was going to be the daddy of a daughter but was still pissed off
about the way he had found out. Leaving his own home had been the only way to
avoid choking Olive and to subdue his urge to slap some sense into Jahaira.
Because of them, he was drunk and slumped forward on the desk in his cigarette
smoke-filled office. He flicked the flame of his lighter off and on, ashamed
that he had broken his oath to give up nicotine. For seven months he had kept
his promise to Jahaira and himself.
“So much for
promises,” he mumbled as he lit another cancer stick and put it between his
lips. The taste of it and the alcohol were not a good mix, especially on an
empty stomach. He closed his eyes as he struggled with his nausea which is why
he didn’t see when Emily slowly opened his office door and stepped inside.
“Hey Boss. What’re you
doing here this late on a Saturday?” Emily coughed as her lungs were assaulted
by the smoke that swirled around smoothly in the air.
“This is my office and
I can be here whenever I damn well please,” he slurred.
“Sure, sure…of
course,” Emily answered as she sat down in the chair in front of him, on the
opposite side of his desk. “But, Saturday is usually family time for you.
That’s why I asked.”
“Family time…ha!” he
answered as he poured himself another drink. Once his shot glass was full and overflowed
onto the desk, he banged the liquor bottle down on the mahogany which startled
her just a little bit because she had never seen him so agitated.
“Got another glass?”
she asked.
“Nope. I always drink
alone,” he told her as he raised his glass to toast her, then brought it to his
lips to take a burning sip.
Emily reached across
the desk, grabbed the bottle of cognac and took a swig, straight to the head. She
grimaced as it burned her throat and then put the bottle back down. She reached
up into the tight bun that her hair was pulled up in, removed the hairpins and
let her hair fall down to her shoulders.
“Don’t look at me like
that. While you’ve been locked in your office, smoking like a chimney and
drinking like a lush, I’ve had a rough day running your business Boss,” she
said before she leaned across his desk again, this time to snatch the lit
cigarette that was dangling from his lips. She put it to her mouth, took a long
pull and inhaled deeply.
“I didn’t know you
smoked,” he said, surprised as she pouted and blew smoke across the room at him
like an old pro.
“Smoked is right. Past tense. I used
to. I quit. Haven’t had a cigarette since my senior year in High School,” she
answered.
“What was that, three
or four years ago?” he joked.
“Oh, are you tryin’ to
flatter me Boss?” she chuckled. “No, it’s been a bit longer than that honey.”
“So what made you put
one to those lips after all this time?” he asked, momentarily captivated by the
wet look of her lip gloss.
“Maybe I figured that
it’s awful sad for someone to have to smoke and drink alone so I decided to
join you,” she answered, crossing her legs. She fixed her tight, short, grey
skirt so the split down the side of it wouldn’t expose too much of her thighs.
There was a tattoo of an intricate, colorful, vine of flowers that she was too
bashful to let him see.
“That’s kind of you.
Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Now…do
you want to tell me what’s eating you?” she asked.
“Nothing. I’m fine,”
he answered and reached for the liquor with the intention of gulping down the
last dregs left.
Before he could, Emily
grabbed it and dropped the lit cigarette down the neck of the bottle. It landed
in the liquid that was left with a weak hiss.
“Now you’re lying,”
she told him.
“I can’t believe you
did that,” he growled.
Emily ignored the
appalled, angry expression on his face and continued to question him.
“For months, ever
since you found out that you were going to be a dad, you’ve been bouncing
around here more jolly than Kris Kringle on Christmas eve. All of a sudden I
find you in here today, slumped over your desk, drunk and full of smoke. What’s
wrong?”
“Nothing,” Lenox
slurred as he slid open the top drawer of his desk and took out a small bottle
of clear rum like a magician would have pulled a rabbit out of a black hat.
“How’s Jahaira?” Emily
asked kindly enough but he picked up om a bit of resentment in her tone and she
didn’t quite sound sincere to his ears.
“She’s good,” he
answered and chose not to go into details that she probably didn’t want to hear
about anyway. Emily’s body language expressed how little she cared about his
pregnant fiancée.
“Well, if nothing’s
wrong, why are you here getting wasted instead of at home? You shouldn’t leave
a pregnant woman in the house all by herself,” she scolded him.
“She’s not home
alone,” he told her.
“What?” Emily asked,
confused.
“I said, she’s not
alone!” he raised his voice and answered.
“I heard you the first
time!” she yelled back, annoyed. “So who’s at home with her?” she asked in a
more civilized tone.
“A live-in nurse that
we hired. I hate her.”
“You hate who? Your
girlfriend or the nurse that YOU hired?” Emily asked, surprised.
“Right now? Both! No,
I don’t really mean that. I hate Olive. That’s the nurse’s name by the way. Oh,
and me and Jahaira are having a baby girl,” he rambled. Emily wasn’t sure what
to ask him about next.
“Aren’t you happy that
you’re going to have a beautiful baby girl?”
“Of course I am. I
just didn’t want to know yet,” he answered.
“Why not?”
“I wanted to be
surprised dammit! I told Jahaira that I didn’t want to know early…that I wanted
to find out the day the baby was born and this little bitch made her paint the
room pink…and now I know…and everything’s all fucked up…and I don’t feel like
being home,” he rambled.
“Whoa…you really are
drunk aren’t you?”
“I’m not…not yet
anyway,” he answered as he unscrewed the cap on the small bottle of overproof
rum.
Emily watched him take
one, two and then three gulps before she stood up, straightened her shirt and
skirt, reached all the way across the desk and took the bottle from him. She
snatched the cap too before she sat back down daintily. She took a gulp herself
and then screwed the cap back on.
“Is it really that
serious?” she asked once the burning sensation in her chest had passed.
Lenox pondered her
question and immediately felt like a fool. He wondered if he really was
overreacting. Then, when he thought about how Olive was working her tiny little
manicured claws into Jahaira, he didn’t feel silly at all. He got angry.
“It’s not even about
that really. I’m a little disappointed but it’s not that serious. That’s not
what’s pissin’ me off,” he told her.
“So what is it really
then?”
“It’s that fuckin’
Olive. It’s like she’s tryin’ to take over my damn house!”
“Boss, why don’t you
just fire her ass then?”
“Because Jahaira likes
her,” he answered.
“But YOU don’t.”
“I don’t. I wish I
could stab her in the neck with a pencil,” he pretended to joke but really
meant it. “Ever since she moved in it’s like WE live with HER instead of the
other way around. I’m startin’ to not like going home.”
“Does Jahaira know how
you feel about this lady?”
“She knows that this
little chick annoys me but for the most part, I try to keep the peace. Jahaira
really doesn’t have any friends where we live now so it makes her happy to have
someone to talk to when I’m not around. She’s been stressed out, bored and
lonely for months and that can’t be good for the baby,” he explained.
“That’s true but your
feelings are important too. Your woman shouldn’t allow some stranger to come in
and make you uncomfortable in your own home. She should put that broad in her
place and let her know that she’s just the help.”
“Jahaira’s too nice.
She won’t.”
“The few times I’ve
met your girlfriend she didn’t seem timid. Judging by the dirty looks she gave
me, I figured she was pretty tough,” said Emily.
“When did she give you
dirty looks?”
“Most recently?” Emily
laughed. “The last time you brought her here I was opening up the office that
day. She was sitting in your car and must have thought I couldn’t see her
rolling her eyes at me through the tinted window. As a matter of fact, I was
wearing this skirt,” she told him and ran her hand across the smooth material.
“I think I remember
that day. When I got back in the car, she asked me what happened to the rest of
your skirt. She doesn’t have a problem with you though.”
“Uhhmmhmm,” she
mumbled sarcastically. “I would understand if she did.”
“And why is that?” he
asked.
“Because I wouldn’t
trust me around you either. She’s a smart woman who knows what she’s got,”
Emily answered, straight-faced and serious.
He stared back at her
blankly, fumbling inside his intoxicated mind for the right response that would
not get him into any kind of unethical entanglements. He immediately regretted
drinking as much as he had because, out of all the time she had worked for him,
he had never been seriously tempted until that moment. He blamed all the shots
of cognac he had tossed back and the rum for his moment of weakness. He told
himself that his eyes lingered on her neckline and plunged down into her
cleavage because he was drunk. Otherwise, he would have been a real scumbag,
especially with a pregnant fiancée at home waiting for him. He shook his head,
looked up and brought his eyes back to her face.
“I don’t know how to
take that,” he finally answered.
“No, you don’t,” she
smiled. “You should get home to your lady.”
“Yeah, I should.”
“But get yourself together
first. Go sit down somewhere, drink some strong coffee and sober up,” she told
him as she got up to leave and walked towards his office door.
“Good advice. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome Boss.
Thanks for the drinks,” she said as she looked back over her shoulder. “You’re
a good man. Things would have gone differently today if you weren’t,” she said
before she walked out and closed the door behind her.
Copyright
© 2014 Keith Kareem Williams
All
rights reserved.
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