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“Exactly,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her with an attitude. “The wedding.”
It suddenly hit me. Jude had done something foul at Smitty’s wedding. She’d done something with Logan. Oh no!
There was no point in denying something I couldn’t even remember. The only thing left to do was express regret.
“I’m sorry, Darnetta. For whatever happened, I am truly, truly sorry.”
Darnetta was so distressed that her entire body was trembling. “I’ve already dumped Logan. He’s history.”
I thought back to what Marcella mentioned about Jude using “the art of seduction” as some sort of power. I didn’t want to be the cause of someone’s relationship ending so I said, “Darnetta, it wasn’t Logan’s fault. I forced him.”
“Forced him?” She smirked. “He knew what the hell he was doing when he fucked you. He told me as much. He cried like a baby and I made him get down on his knees and beg for forgiveness. Then I made him kiss my feet.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “So you do plan to stay with him.”
“Fuck no. Like I said, Logan’s history. I made him do all of that and then I kicked him in the face. He has a bloody nose, too.”
I plopped down on my sofa. “I’m speechless, Darnetta. I don’t know what I can possibly do to right this wrong but I’m willing to do anything. Just name it.”
She came closer and hovered over me. “The only thing you can do for me is never speak to me again. I’m not quitting my job; I need it too damn much and the economy’s too bad to risk leaving before I find another one. I do intend to start an immediate search for something else, though.”
I shut my eyes and wished the entire nightmare would go away. Darnetta had the biggest mouth in the company and it was just a matter of time before the cat was out of the bag at the office. She would try to pit everyone else against me by making them feel sorry for her. I’d be lucky if Mr. Wilson didn’t fire me.
“Jon, you put up such a good front, acting all innocent and shit when you’re nothing but a slut.”
“I deserve that,” I said, even though I didn’t. I intended to agree with every word she said if it made her feel like she was accomplishing something.
“Well, you don’t have to worry about me coming by your office anymore. I don’t have jack shit to say to you, not today, not tomorrow, not ever.” Darnetta went for the door. I was relieved she was leaving. She paused in the entryway. “The only satisfaction I can take away in all of this is knowing that your shit is just as raggedy as mine.”
“What do you mean by that?” I asked in confusion.
She let out an evil laugh. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
She slammed the door behind her as I fell out in tears.
• • •
I was beginning to understand how people could turn to alcohol or drugs in desperate times. I felt like shit and couldn’t imagine what Monday morning and every morning after that was going to be like at work. The classified ads came out the next morning with the Sunday paper and I intended to have my head buried in them. Ironically, Darnetta and I would probably end up submitting résumés for some of the same positions.
Alcohol and drugs were not for me so I turned to the next best thing to relieve stress and make me forget everything: exercise. I dug through my closet for my favorite pair of running shoes, found my portable CD player in an old duffel bag, threw on some biker shorts and a sports bra tank top and headed out into the cool, late-September air.
I left my apartment around eleven and didn’t return until close to one. It’s amazing how the body can snap back after a period of slacking off. When I hit the wall, my top pace, the air kicking in and out of my lungs felt incredible. I could feel all the impurities leaving my body through my sweat and I felt so much better, even though my life was still in shambles.
As I was sitting down on the stoop to dig my key out of my sock, I saw Mason pulling into the parking lot. Instead of cutting his engine, he just sat behind the wheel and glared at me. When I’d first spotted his car, I was excited and hopeful that he could cheer me up after the encounter with Darnetta. But, from the way he was looking at me, I realized what Darnetta had meant when she said my shit was just as raggedy as hers. Mason knew about Logan and me. Darnetta was just a battle. Mason and I were about to have a war.
While I could have waited for him to get out so we could have it out on the front steps of our building or even worse, inside, where all the neighbors would surely hear us, I chose to face the music inside his car.
I walked over to his convertible Mustang and luckily, he had the top down so I didn’t have to tap on the window to gain entry. I reached over the passenger side door, unlocked it, and climbed in without an invitation.
“We need to talk,” I said.
He glowered at me. “Don’t you think you said enough last night?”
I almost choked on my breath. “Last night?”
“Yeah, last night.” He didn’t say anything else for a moment. He turned up the radio and started flipping stations until he came across “She’s Out of My Life” by Michael Jackson. He laughed and said, “How appropriate.”
I turned off the radio. “Mason, I need you to listen to me carefully.”
