Page 40 of Mister Moneybags


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He let out a deep sigh before jotting down an address. “Meet me at 2PM this afternoon here.”

I didn’t have enough time to go over the bridge to Manhattan and come back before then, so I hung out in Brooklyn, grabbed a coffee, and walked around aimlessly until it was time to head to the address in Williamsburg.

At 2PM on the dot, I knocked on the door and waited.

The old man opened and said nothing as he stepped out of the way so I could enter. His head was completely bald, which I only now realized since he normally wore that African-themed hat. He led me down to a wood workshop located in a dingy basement.

“I don’t know why, but I pictured you with a full head of hair under that hat,” I said just trying to make conversation. He didn’t seem amused. It was a bit of an awkward start as I looked around. “So this is where the magic happens, huh? How did you get started in wood carving?”

“My grandfather taught me. We used to sell them to tourists back in Nairobi.”

He’d set out some tools on a table and gestured for me to sit next to him.

“The three main things to remember are to always go slow, have a very sharp knife, and keep your hands protected.” He handed me some cut-resistant gloves. “I’m not going to tell you what to do. I’m going to show you. Watch and do as I do.”

Jelani had already drawn with pencil the pattern of the animal onto two pieces of wood. In silence, I followed every movement he made. We practically said nothing the entire time. It took nearly two hours because that was how slow we were cutting the wood.

Toward the end, Jelani turned to me. “I have no hair because of chemo. I’m in the middle of treatment. Colon cancer.”

Oh, no.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s alright.”

“How are you feeling?”

“There are good days and some very bad days. Today is a good day.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

I pondered the fact that you never quite know what crosses people are carrying. My problems with Bianca seemed trite, in comparison.

By the end, I ended up with a half-decent goat, although it was pathetic compared to Jelani’s. But still, it was mine, and I could proudly take full credit for it.

“I can’t thank you enough for taking the time to do this.” Reaching into my pocket, I took out a wad of cash.

Holding his hand out, he said, “No.”

“Please…”

Jelani pushed my hand away.

“I have to give you something,” I insisted.

“Then, come back once a week.”

Did he just say what I thought he did?

“You want me to come back and do this again?”

“Yes. I appreciate the company. It helps take my mind off things. When you live alone, you think too much. This was like therapy for me.”

His request blew me away, but there was only one answer.

“I can do that.”Stepping out of my apartment on the way to work, I noticed a black Town Car parked out front. My heart jumped. Dex had broken his promise not to see me, and I couldn’t say I was disappointed.

The driver got out and came around.

He nodded. “Ms. George.”

I waited for the window to roll down or for Dex to emerge but neither happened.

“Where is Dex?”

“Mr. Truitt instructed me to be at your disposal this week.”

“He’s not here?”

“No. He would like me to safely see you to your destination.”

“Oh. Um…okay. Thank you.”

He opened the back door and let me in. After giving him the address to my building, I immediately picked up the phone.

Dex answered, “Bianca.”

The sound of his deep, soothing voice gave me shivers.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s more comfortable than the back of my tandem bike, isn’t it?”

“Jay’s bike, yes.” I shook my head. “I can only imagine how fast you had to work to make the bicycle thing happen that day, by the way.”

“Let’s just say I was highly motivated.”

“What’s with the chauffeur service?”

“I thought you’d like a break from dangerous taxis. And I was looking for a change of pace. I’ve been cabbing it to work. Sam is at your beck and call all week.”

“It’s really not necessary.”

“I know that. But if I can’t be with you, at least I know you’re safe and sound in good hands.”

“I can’t use it tonight,” I said.

How exactly was I supposed to tell him that I’d accepted a date with a co-worker?

One of the editors at work, Eamon Carpenter, had asked me out. The word “no” had been at the tip of my tongue until I realized that it might benefit me to go out with someone other than Dex. I’d be breaking my own self-imposed rule not to get involved with men I worked with, but it would be a test as to just how deep into Dex my heart really was. We weren’t exclusive, so I was able to justify it. I absolutely knew that I wasn’t going to let things get to a physical level with Eamon, in any case. So, I figured there was really no harm.

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