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“Please, call me Shalom.”
We shook hands before she motioned for me to have a seat near the small bar area to the left of her office.
“Shalom it is,” she agreed. Though we’d just met, I could tell she had a warm vibe. Violet slid a white envelope in my direction. “That’s for you, and I promise to not keep you long.”
“I have time, and I’m curious about the case. You didn’t give me any details about it via email.”
“Intentionally. I didn’t want you to look into the case on your own. I want you to speak with the lead attorney first, however, he’s in Chicago. What I can share with you, is that it is a class action lawsuit against a landlord and his property management company. He has just over a hundred tenants, and the living conditions are horrendous. Quite a few of them have been dealing with health issues that were never an issue before they moved into his building. Outside of that, the building has become a community nuisance because he allegedly allows drug dealing and use and prostitution. Now I believe the lead attorney has a very good case just with the proof and testimony of the tenants, but I am concerned about the defense turning this into a character circus. That’s where you come in.”
“What would you need?”
“I would need you to be his lead researcher and go through as much information as you possibly can pertaining to the landlord, his company, and everyone who works with him along with all the tenants within the building. I’d need you to look for specific things that the attorney will make you aware of so you won’t bombard him with files and files of paperwork to go through. It is my understanding that you also took classes in reading expressions and body language?” I nodded. “Then I would also like for you to sit in on meetings with him and the plaintiffs and with the defendant when they initially meet for mediation.”
“Is this an immediate thing?”
“If possible. I understand you may have a current caseload and I’m sure the attorney will be willing to work around it. I am also willing to pay for your priority.”
She motioned toward the envelope, and I opened it. There was a five-thousand-dollar check for this consultation and a small piece of paper with a number that I had to keep my eyes from bulging out at the sight of. I averaged one hundred and fifty to one hundred and eighty thousand a year as a researcher. Violet was offering double that.
“Is this… what you’re willing to pay for my services for the entire year, or the length of the case?” I clarified.
“We’re hoping this won’t go to trial, so that’s for the next three months. If it does go to trial, or we need you longer, I’ll have a contract drawn up with further pay information after you meet with the lead attorney and agree to work with him.”
As far as I was concerned, I would have accepted the case now. Money wasn’t everything, but I wanted to help the tenants as much as I could, and it appeared I would be paid handsomely for it. To avoid seeming too anxious, I agreed to wait until after I met with the lead attorney before giving her my decision. We stood and shook hands, and I tried to return the check. I hadn’t been here for more than five minutes, and I honestly felt like I was cheating her by taking the five thousand dollars. She insisted and implored me to honor my time and my expertise, so I kept the check. As I made my way out of the office, I couldn’t help but smile.
This was a new opportunity that I wasn’t expecting at all, but it would allow me to keep my mind off how shitty my personal life was right now.
Hosanna huffed into the phone, and I couldn’t care less. She was acting clingier than usual lately and I wasn’t sure why. Every Sunday I went to church with my family and had an early dinner with them. For whatever reason, Hosanna expected that to be different. She’d called me twice while I was at church, and when I returned her call, she asked me to accompany her to brunch. I was sitting in my car talking to her while the rest of my family went inside.
“I’m confused,” I admitted. “You sound upset about me not going to brunch like you don’t know I do the same thing every Sunday.”
“I just don’t understand why you can’t make this exception for me just once.”
I had to keep myself from asking her who she thought she was for me to make that exception for her. Sundays with family have been a tradition since I was a kid. Hosanna was a woman I had sex with. There was no reason for me to renege on my plans for her. Still, my mother had raised me to be a gentleman, so I was trying my hardest to spare Hosanna’s feelings. I also was double thinking about my responses because the weekend had been hard for me. Since seeing that picture of Carina, Shalom had been heavy on my mind. Even with the random one-day trip to Chicago yesterday, my soul was still struggling to release her.
“Hosanna…” I released a frustrated chuckle. “If you want to go to brunch, we can go on a Saturday neither of us has plans. Sunday has always been and will always be the day I spend with my family.”
She huffed again, and the sound was starting to piss me off. “Fine, Mecca,” she grumbled before disconnecting the call.
I didn’t care about the conversation ending, but I didn’t tolerate disrespect. I shot her a text reminding her of that before getting out of my car and heading to the door of my parents’ home. It didn’t matter how much my brother and I offered to cook or barbecue to give her a break, she insisted on doing our Sunday dinners at their home. I was cool with that because it allowed me to eat and take a nap before heading home to further rest. As I headed inside, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I started not to look at what Hosanna had said in case it pissed me off, but I wanted to get the conversation over with. All she’d said was,I know and I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated.
Me: Why?
“Where y’all at?” I called out, finding the living room and sitting room empty.
Mom let me know she was in the kitchen and that my dad and brother were outside. I wouldn’t be surprised if Pops got a new tool or piece of equipment for the house or lawn that he wanted to show off. As I headed toward the kitchen to see what Mom had prepared, I read Hosanna’s reply.
Sanna: I can admit that the sex is making me get more attached to you. We’ve been at this for a long time and I’m starting to want more. Not a relationship but more than just sex. We don’t hang out at all, and I want us to try again.
Me: We can try.
I figured this was a time when showing her would be better than telling her. There hadn’t been any changes within our character, so I was sure our time outside of the bedroom would be just as dry as it had always been. If she wanted us to chill, we could chill, and I hoped that would help her remember why we stopped.
“Hey, baby.” Mom greeted me, like she hadn’t seen me at church.
“What you cooking?”
“I’m just about to do some cornbread real quick, but everything else is ready.” She walked over to the counter. “I’ve got ham, meatloaf, baked chicken, candied yams, greens, green beans, mac and cheese, and banana pudding for dessert.”
