What's Done In the Dark(54)

“I. Don’t. Have. That. Kind. Of. Money,” I repeated.

She lost her smile and turned serious. “Get it, or this little video here—there’s a send capability. I’ll be sending it to the cops. To the media. To your little sorority sisters. Your friends. Paula. Your husband. Your child—by the way, did I tell you I’m following her on Instagram now? Wouldn’t her friends get a kick out of this?”

I fought back the lump in my throat. “I can’t get my hands on that kind of money.” My mind raced. We did have money in Liz’s college fund. But I couldn’t mess with that, could I? “Look,” I said, already thinking that I could pick up extra shifts. “I can make payments. I get paid every two weeks. I can give you a thousand dollars a month.”

She waved away my words. “Girl, ain’t nobody got time for that. This isn’t a two-year finance plan.”

“Sabrina, please,” I pleaded.

She paused, then broke out in a huge grin again. “You know what, since we go back, I’m going to be nice and give you three days to get my money. But look at it this way.” She stood. “Once I get it, I’m gone and I won’t bother you again. I’m a woman of my word. A woman of integrity.” She slid her sunglasses on. “Of course, that’s something that you wouldn’t know anything about. Talk to you in three days, ta-ta.”





37


Paula


I WAS GOING THROUGH SOME of Steven’s paperwork when I noticed the date. July 13. I couldn’t believe our anniversary was coming up. As I checked the calendar, I remembered that our anniversary was a week after another special date.

“Oh, no,” I said to my mom, who was sitting on the love seat across from me. “I’ve been so wrapped up in my own problems that I completely forgot about Felise’s birthday.”

“Honey, I’m sure no one will blame you for forgetting a birthday,” she replied. She had finally been coming out of her grief and surprised me when she’d come and sat in the living room with me to read her latest edition of Ebony.

“Before all of this happened, Greg had mentioned a surprise party for her and I’d promised to help,” I said.

“I’m sure he’ll understand if you don’t help,” my mom said. “He knows you have a lot on your plate.”

I thought about it—and about my continuing misery. “No, it might help me get my mind off of things, and after all that Felise has done, it’s the least I can do.”

My mother looked like she didn’t agree, but she decided not to protest and went back to reading her magazine.

I called Greg. He answered on the first ring.

“Hey, Paula,” he said.

“Hi.”

“How are you holding up?”

“As well as can be expected.” I hated when people asked me that stupid question. I’d just lost my husband and the father of my children. How was I supposed to be doing?

I shook off those thoughts. There was no need to get upset with Greg. I was trying to get my life back to some semblance of order.

“I remembered you asked me a while back to help with the birthday party for Felise. Are you still going to do it?”

“I had planned to. We’ve kind of been going through a rough patch ourselves,” Greg admitted. “And it probably would be good for us. Of course, I’m not expecting you to do anything.”

“No, I want to,” I replied. “I could use the distraction.”

Greg considered that, and I could sense him going through his usual deliberations. “Well, I’ve already put the deposit down on the restaurant and invited some of Felise’s friends. It would mean a lot to both of us if you came.”

“You know I will. Is it still a surprise?”

“I don’t know. With the way Felise has been acting lately, she might not want to do anything. But I kinda think she needs the distraction as well.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed she’s been aloof with me as well.”

He sighed heavily. “It’s probably . . . You know what, never mind.”

“No, Greg, what’s up?”

“Paula, you have enough on your plate. I don’t want to worry you with this.”

“Like I said, I welcome a distraction.” I managed a terse laugh.

“Well,” he confessed, “I’m a little concerned about us. I know my obsessive behavior is pushing her to the edge, and I’m trying to work on it. I’ve even started seeing a therapist.”

“What? You at a therapist?” I knew that was major. Felise had been trying to get him to get help for years.

“I had to because I could see it pushing a wedge between us. The anniversary was the final straw.”