“You okay?” he asked. “You didn’t stick around for cake.”
“Just a little headache,” she said, pasting on a smile.
“I’m sorry you didn’t make partner,” he said. “I felt Richard had more focus.”
“He also has a few other things I don’t, between his legs,” she muttered.
Barry’s eyes bugged out. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s forgiven,” he said. “You know, if you really apply yourself over the next year, anything’s possible.”
“Apply myself?” she asked, letting her jaw drop. “What do you call the all-nighters I’ve been doing? Goofing off?”
He held out a steadying hand, as if she acted like a hysterical female. “Your hard work is very much appreciated.”
Keep your mouth shut, Dee.
But she couldn’t. A lot of bad shit had happened to her this week, and she wanted to cry and scream about it until she went hoarse.
“I’ve decided to run for attorney general of the District of Columbia.”
His placating smile cooled. “I see.”
“And if I get elected, I’m going to do everything I can to battle racism and sexism here in D.C. Because we’ve come a long way since the sixties and seventies, but we’ve still got a ways to go.”
He raised his chin, a troubled look settling over his face. “Well, I wish you luck. As I said before, you’ll always have a place here if you happen to lose.”
“Thank you, but I think my efforts will be better appreciated at a firm that values women.”
Barry’s frown deepened. “Are you resigning?”
Now, look what you’ve done with your big mouth. Your parents are homeless, and you’re trying to lose your only source of income.
“No, but I’d like the rest of the day off. My head is killing me.”
“Of course. We can talk again when you’ve calmed down.” He shot her an indulgent smile. One he might give a little girl who didn’t receive the birthday gift she’d wanted. “Feel better, okay?”
I already do.
* * *
In Virginia Beach, Rodney paced outside a charter plane bound for New Orleans. Their tour was taking them south, toward home—about the only good thing happening lately. While the band waited forever for the crew to fix some mechanical problem, he read the paper. The critics had speculated he must not have gotten over his cold because his recent performances were flat.
They had no soul because he had no heart left.
He flipped a few pages to Dee’s picture. It showed her at a charity ball, announcing her intention to run for attorney general of D.C. Good for her. He was glad to see her moving on with her life. Exactly what he should be doing instead of giving crappy performances. What he didn’t like was the creep next to her with his arm around her. Were they dating? Had he made love to his woman?
Aw, hell. He and Dee had been doomed from the start. Stood for different things. How had they ever fallen in love? Why couldn’t he let go?
“She’s all fixed up and ready to roll,” the pilot said. “Load your stuff and let’s get a move on before the thunderstorms hit down in Louisiana.”
Linda eyed the airplane. “I get a bad feeling. Maybe we should wait until the storms pass.”
“Isn’t that just like a woman,” Jack said, swaggering toward the metal staircase. “Worrying about every little thing. We can’t afford to be late for our show.”
He’d been all smiles ever since Rodney had broken up with Dee. The weird thing was, he had a strange feeling about this flight, too. He caught Linda’s eye, wondering if he should say something.
Why bother? The pilot said the problem was fixed, and after losing the only woman he’d ever loved, he didn’t really give a damn if he lived or died. If it was his time, who was he to argue?
He raised his chin. “You heard the pilot. Let’s go.”
As he mounted the stairs, a breeze ruffled his hair with cool fingers. It only added to the uneasy feeling stirring his gut. Once aboard, he felt better. He even poured himself a drink.
Everyone wore black T-shirts sporting the band’s logo. He’d decided they should wear them when they traveled. Jack saw it as branding, but Rodney hoped it would build solidarity.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Jack said once they were in the air.
“Got nothing to say.”
His brother knocked back a shot of whiskey. “You’ll get over her, bro’.”
“Didn’t you hear me?” Rodney growled. “I said I don’t want to talk.”
He didn’t care to discuss how he’d given Dee up so she’d be safe. Or the ripped up feeling in his gut he’d probably carry around the rest of his life.
“Suit yourself.”
Rodney yawned and closed his eyes, hoping to catch some rest before the show. For the sake of the band, he needed to make a better effort tonight. He’d just about dozed off when the plane lurched.
Jack peered out the window. “Looks like we’re hitting those storms, after all.”
The sky was so gray and turbulent, it reminded Rodney of the flood. When the plane lurched again, he wished he’d insisted on not boarding it after all. Despite how much his brother liked to grab control of everything, Rodney still felt responsible for the band.
Well, it was too late to turn back now, so he did the only thing he could. Gripped the armrests and prayed for a safe landing. Not so much for himself but the others. Even Jack.
Rodney’s stomach sank when the plane flipped into a gut-bending spin and began to dive, nose first, toward the ground. One of the backup singers screamed, but everyone else went quiet. Leaving only the creak of the plane’s chassis and the wind whistling by.
When Rodney stole a glance out the window, he saw nothing but treetops, coming closer and closer.
Jack looked at him, his eyes big and round in a pale face. The first time he’d ever seen his brother look scared.
“We’re goin’ down.”
“I know.” Rodney squeezed his eyes shut and thought of Dee.
Chapter Fourteen
Washington, D.C.
“Do I look all right?” Rhonda
