Kaulman or Kaufman or something like that. But that was about business, not about the girls at all. “You know, everything we’ve built together: the business, the house, the cars, the assets—half of it belongs to me.”
“Actually, more, since you held up your end of the bargain,” Avie said, scribbling more notes on the bright yellow pad while making headway on her sandwich. “Being faithful to him, making a good home for him and the girls counts for plenty. You can’t take the soft road on this, baby girl.”
Brandi’s gaze focused on the wall behind the desk. Degrees hung between pictures of Avie with her husband, Carlton, and three children—Carlton II, Carrington, and Marilyn. The two friends had all but married Brandi’s girls and Avie’s boys off in the stroller. “Vernon practically insisted I have the children right away. I think he thought that it would make me put up with his crap—”
“And let’s face it, you have. The children didn’t have anything to do with that,” Avie said in a grim tone. “I told you to watch out for him after that time he met with Mr. Adams and painted you right out of the picture. He played right into that man’s male chauvinist attitude like a champ, acting as though the company didn’t run without him.”
“Oh, that was an ego thing,” Brandi said, dismissing the memory of the painful episode with a simple gesture. “He can’t admit that I’m just as important to the business as he is.”
“Let Carlton try to pull that crap. I’d give him directions to his own ass-whipping so he wouldn’t be late.”
Brandi laughed, realizing that Avie always had a way of lightening up the heaviest mood. When they met at Fisk, they never realized that one day Avie would own a law firm, or that Brandi would marry Vernon, arrogance and all, and start a business with him. She also never thought that she would have two children to look after, when she swore up and down after her thirteenth birthday that she would never have them. God must’ve seen that as funny because he gave her two girls, and she worried every time they stepped out the door. Just like her mother had worried about her. And that worry was warranted. She was lucky she had even been able to have children after the surgery she’d had at thirteen to repair her damaged body.
Finally taking a tiny bite of her sandwich, she said, “Vernon’s a good man, but it seems that the more successful we’ve become, the more he’s changed.” She rested her chin on the palm of her hand. “We’re able to give our children anything and everything. My girls won’t have to wait years to explore opportunities; they can create their own—like we swore on our wedding day.”
“And I thought
that
would never happen,” Avie said softly. “Remember how Vernon’s dad almost cut him off completely because he had him all lined up to marry Veronica? Boy, did that girl have mud on her face.” Avie laughed, a harsh sound that didn’t mesh with an angelic face and model-perfect features.
“Don’t be bitter ’cause she tried to get into Carlton’s pants.”
Avie’s smile disappeared as her eyes narrowed to slits. “Wouldn’t have been a problem if I wasn’t already in them.”
“What did you do to her that day?”
“I’m not telling on the grounds that it may serve to incriminate me.”
Brandi roared with laughter, remembering how Veronica had stood up in the middle of Avie and Carlton’s wedding, opening her wide mouth to object when the pastor said, “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”
Avie had yanked off her veil, hiked up her white dress, and stormed down the aisle, train and all. “Can I see you outside, please,” she demanded, yanking the wafer-thin woman by the hair, giving her no choice in the matter. All heads and eyes stayed glued to the mahogany doors, waiting for an outcome.
Avie, composed and all smiles, appeared five minutes later. Veronica wasn’t heard from until three months
“Actually, more, since you held up your end of the bargain,” Avie said, scribbling more notes on the bright yellow pad while making headway on her sandwich. “Being faithful to him, making a good home for him and the girls counts for plenty. You can’t take the soft road on this, baby girl.”
Brandi’s gaze focused on the wall behind the desk. Degrees hung between pictures of Avie with her husband, Carlton, and three children—Carlton II, Carrington, and Marilyn. The two friends had all but married Brandi’s girls and Avie’s boys off in the stroller. “Vernon practically insisted I have the children right away. I think he thought that it would make me put up with his crap—”
“And let’s face it, you have. The children didn’t have anything to do with that,” Avie said in a grim tone. “I told you to watch out for him after that time he met with Mr. Adams and painted you right out of the picture. He played right into that man’s male chauvinist attitude like a champ, acting as though the company didn’t run without him.”
“Oh, that was an ego thing,” Brandi said, dismissing the memory of the painful episode with a simple gesture. “He can’t admit that I’m just as important to the business as he is.”
“Let Carlton try to pull that crap. I’d give him directions to his own ass-whipping so he wouldn’t be late.”
Brandi laughed, realizing that Avie always had a way of lightening up the heaviest mood. When they met at Fisk, they never realized that one day Avie would own a law firm, or that Brandi would marry Vernon, arrogance and all, and start a business with him. She also never thought that she would have two children to look after, when she swore up and down after her thirteenth birthday that she would never have them. God must’ve seen that as funny because he gave her two girls, and she worried every time they stepped out the door. Just like her mother had worried about her. And that worry was warranted. She was lucky she had even been able to have children after the surgery she’d had at thirteen to repair her damaged body.
Finally taking a tiny bite of her sandwich, she said, “Vernon’s a good man, but it seems that the more successful we’ve become, the more he’s changed.” She rested her chin on the palm of her hand. “We’re able to give our children anything and everything. My girls won’t have to wait years to explore opportunities; they can create their own—like we swore on our wedding day.”
“And I thought
that
would never happen,” Avie said softly. “Remember how Vernon’s dad almost cut him off completely because he had him all lined up to marry Veronica? Boy, did that girl have mud on her face.” Avie laughed, a harsh sound that didn’t mesh with an angelic face and model-perfect features.
“Don’t be bitter ’cause she tried to get into Carlton’s pants.”
Avie’s smile disappeared as her eyes narrowed to slits. “Wouldn’t have been a problem if I wasn’t already in them.”
“What did you do to her that day?”
“I’m not telling on the grounds that it may serve to incriminate me.”
Brandi roared with laughter, remembering how Veronica had stood up in the middle of Avie and Carlton’s wedding, opening her wide mouth to object when the pastor said, “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”
Avie had yanked off her veil, hiked up her white dress, and stormed down the aisle, train and all. “Can I see you outside, please,” she demanded, yanking the wafer-thin woman by the hair, giving her no choice in the matter. All heads and eyes stayed glued to the mahogany doors, waiting for an outcome.
Avie, composed and all smiles, appeared five minutes later. Veronica wasn’t heard from until three months
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