“Look at you,” said another guest. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Now Carter was offended. He leaned over to Harrison. “When are you going to put an end to this bloodbath?”
“She’s got to be able to take it,” Harrison said as he continued to watch the pile on.
Phyllis didn’t like the way Carter seemed solicitous to that woman. She knew all about his various mistresses, including the black ones. The pretty black girl in front of her wasn’t going to become another one. “You have quite the mouth,” she said to Jayda, “for somebody of your undeniable lowly status.”
Jayda said nothing because Phyllis had hit a nerve.Lowly status, they called it, which was code foryou’re anobody. Everything Phyllis and all the other guests were saying about her was what she knew many other people were saying about her. She was nothing in their eyes. Invisible just like Harrison and his driver had viewed her that day in front of the Bainbridge building. She was fighting back at that dinner table, but that didn’t mean she wanted to fight. That didn’t mean their putdowns didn’t hurt. She knew she was poor and powerless. She knew they had no clue the terror she felt whenever she wondered if her piece of jobs would bring in enough at the end of the month to keep a roof over her head. They would be oblivious to the loneliness she felt every night when she realized she was all alone in this world. That even her own family didn’t want to have anything to do with her. This was a parlor game to them. And to Harrison too. She was undoubtedly their entertainment. He was amusing them with her presence. And if she didn’t need that four-thousand-dollar check as badly as she needed it, she would have told him what to do with his game. She would have walked out of that fancy penthouse and never looked back.
But she was poor. And she was powerless. And she needed every dime of that advance check. She could not afford pride.
They kept throwing all the barbs and arrows they could throw at her, and she kept deflecting some, tossing some aside, and catching the flack of some. But they were wounding her. No doubt about it. Every tip of every one of their arrows she had to touch was piercing a little more of her tough shell.
“And speaking of holes,” Phyllis continued when she could tell she had hit a nerve. “You still haven’t told us what hole Harrison dug you out of.”
More snickering. Jayda looked at the older woman.
“Don’t just stare at me,” Phyllis said. “Answer me. What hole did Harrison dig you out of?”
“The same hole he dug your mama out of,” Jayda responded bluntly.
That response, above any other, set off a firestorm. It was a bridge too far for Harrison’s guests. They all were in an uproar. Even Carter, who told Jayda she didn’t have to say something like that to his wife. As if his wife hadn’t said worse than that to Jayda.
But their overreaction drew panic from Jayda. Was she failing the test? She looked over at Harrison with fear in her heart. Was this when he sided with them and kicked her out of his house and life forever? Was this when he got his revenge on her for denting his limo and calling him a pervert? Was this that moment when he would demand his advance back? Would all the putdowns she took from these people bent on invalidating her humanity been all for nothing?
Harrison had remained noncommittal for a reason. But their reaction to that simple response from Jayda was a bridge too far for him too. “Enough of the pearl clutching,” he said to his guests as they were still complaining about that one comment from Jayda. “You started it, she finished it,” he added. “She gave as good as she got.”
Jayda could not have felt more relieved. And even as they continued to plead their case as the true victims at that table, she continued to stare at Harrison.
“How can you call it pearl-clutching?” Phyllis asked. “You should be glad we interrogated her. Her true colors coming out is what that was.”
“Your true colors were already out,” Harrison shot back. “You feasted on her. Now feast on the food. Just eat ladies. Gentlemen. Just eat and enjoy the meal.”
When they all stopped with the putdowns disguised as interrogation and began eating again, Jayda looked over at Harrison. Harrison glanced over at her. And when she saw thatlook in his eyes, as if he was proud of her, she inwardly smiled. It was touch and go there for a minute, and their reaction to her putdown made her wonder if she had gone too far. But just that look he gave to her made it clear that she had not.
And when he winked at her, she smiled. She knew in that moment that she had passed the test.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
When the last guest finally left the penthouse and Harrison’s servants retired for the evening in their quarters downstairs, Harrison and Jayda retired in the living room. Jayda was seated on the edge of the sofa, her legs folded and flapping, while Harrison sat back on the sofa, his legs spread wide open. He had his usual evening headache, and was tired on top of it.
Harrison looked at her. At her elegant neck. At her sophistication despite her background. She impressed him tonight. “Enjoyed it?” he asked her.
“Enjoyed it?” He had to be kidding. “No!” she said so forcefully that he laughed. “Not even the food,” she added, which made him laugh more.
“Understood,” he said in agreement.
But Jayda knew there was more to it than just that dinner party. “But I don’t understand it,” she said. “What’s this all about? And what about the second part of it? You said there was a second part.”
Harrison exhaled. This was the part he was going to hate. “There is.”
She turned sideways, to be able to see him. “What is it?”
“I don’t know how much you know about me.”
“I don’t know anything about you except that your name is Harrison, which I don’t know is your first name or your last name, and that you own this penthouse. At least I think you own it. I also know you work in the Bainbridge building.”
“Harrison is my first name,” he said, “and you’re correct. I do own this penthouse. I also own the Bainbridge building. I own Bainbridge Capital Trust.”
