Don't Even Go There. Brenda Hampton
to be addictive, and many thought that I resembled a younger Lynn Whitfield. I had watched her in the movie A Thin Line Between Love and Hate, and needless to say, I loved it. She damn sure had her Plan B.
“Cha… Chase Jenkins?” the black officer asked, standing in a trance.
“Yes. How may I help you?”
I folded my arms, but the officer suggested that we step away from the receptionist’s desk. I swished my hips from side to side, asking the officers to follow me to the black leather chairs in the far corner of the lobby. I took a seat, crossing one long, moisturized leg over the other. My skirt hiked up a bit, and I could only imagine the thoughts that swam in both of the officers’ heads. They were all smiles, and their eyes scanned me from head to toe.
“Do you know Mr. Drake Wilkerson?” the white officer asked.
“Yes, I do. He’s my ex-boyfriend.”
The black officer removed his cap and tucked it underneath his arm. He remained standing in front of me. My eyes flirted with the growing hump in his pants, but when he spoke, I turned my attention to him. “His house was set on fire last night and he says that you’re the one who did it. Were you at his residence last night?”
I threw my hand back and sighed. “Officer, Mr. Wilkerson is a very bitter and upset man. I ended our relationship a few weeks ago, and he’s had a difficult time moving on. I just returned from a trip last night, and I don’t know anything about a fire at his house. From what I do know, though, Mr. Wilkerson has several female companions. Anyone could have been responsible, but I assure you that it wasn’t me.”
“He says that he saw you outside of his house. Said you called him directly and told him his house was on fire. Did you call him?”
“As a matter of fact, I did. Only because he called me numerous times, cursing at me and making threats because I ended our relationship. I told him to stop calling me, and I warned him that I would get a restraining order if he didn’t. I can’t believe he’s gone this far, and if he burned his own house to put the blame on me…” I paused, blinking away the fake tears rushing to my eyes. “That’s just crazy.”
The black officer felt sorry for me, and when he reached out to give me a Kleenex that was on the table beside us, I took it. “Thank you,” I said, dabbing my eyes. I took another glance at his hump, sucking in my glossy bottom lip.
“You’re welcome. And if you feel as if this gentleman is a threat to you, then my suggestion would be for you to take immediate action.” The white officer’s walkietalkie went off and he excused himself, moving a few feet away. “As I was saying,” the black officer continued. “Take action and handle your business. Don’t be afraid to report these kinds of jerks. You really need to be careful.”
I nodded and felt relieved. “Do you have a card or any information as to where I can get a restraining order against him? I’ve never had to do anything like this before, and I’m so afraid of what he’ll do.”
The officer didn’t hesitate. He reached out to give me his card, then advised me to go to the courthouse if I needed to obtain the restraining order. I held his card in front of me, thanking him again for the information he’d provided.
He cleared his throat. “That will be all, Ms. Jenkins. But, if you ever want to use my card for your personal use, you can. Have a good day, and I hope to hear from you soon.”
I stood and gave no reply to what he’d said. All I did was nod, and walked away with all the confidence in the world. When I got back to my desk, everyone was being nosy, trying to find out what was going on. Even my boss, Liz, was standing by her office, waiting for me. She couldn’t wait to question me.
“Everything is fine,” I said, entering my large cubicle. “The police wanted to question me about my ex-boyfriend. His house was set on fire last night, and the police had to make their rounds to see if I had anything to do with it. I told them that I was out of town, so that cleared my name pretty quickly.”
Liz smiled and sipped from her cup of black coffee. “How dare they come up here asking for you? You would never do anything so ridiculous and your ex should feel stupid for even mentioning your name.”
“I agree.”
Liz rubbed my arm, then told me to get ready to join her in our eleven o’clock department meeting. I was her secretary, which was a downgrade for me. I had a degree in business administration, but with the economy being so bad, I had to find a job that would help pay the bills. Liz wanted me to take the minutes in our meeting, so I gathered my thick note-pad to do so. My other coworker, Claudette, looked over her cubicle and into mine. She was always being so damn nosy, and I despised women like her. Plus, she thought that God had blessed her with the best man ever. She had pictures of the two of them inside of her cubicle and displayed on her computer monitor. They had taken plenty of trips together. She’d always come in bragging about how much fun they had, and where he was taking her to next. The day he proposed to her, we couldn’t get a darn thing done at work. She rambled on about how much she loved him, and he loved her. When the red roses showed up, I could have choked. She cried, and couldn’t wait to call and thank him. I listened in as she told him how much he meant to her and that she couldn’t wait to be his loving wife. Everybody was so happy for her, and the people around here couldn’t wait to hear all about her business. I never told anybody anything about my personal relationships. They knew I dated, but my business was my own. There were some things Liz knew about me, only because she was my boss. And those things were limited to my age, which was thirty-one, my address, and my salary. My salary was $41,500 a year, and my other two coworkers, Claudette and Veronica, always wanted to know how much I made. We all were very competitive, and with every little thing, we always tried to outdo each other.
Truthfully, neither of them could touch me with a ten-foot pole. Claudette was too darn skinny; her light skin and long hair barely got her by, but I was sure her big lips came to good use. As for Veronica, she was brown skinned like me. She weighed about two hundred plus pounds, and her self-esteem issues drove me nuts. She always had to get approval about how she looked, and the no-good boyfriend she bragged about wasn’t helping her self-esteem issues one bit. I’d listened to her cry plenty of times over the phone, asking him why he did this or that to her. It was so ridiculous for any woman to put up with that much mess, and that’s why I didn’t. You basically had one time to mess me over, and I wasn’t in the business of forgiving. Before my mother passed away, she taught me a lot about men. She and my father argued all the time, but she never tolerated much from him. They’d been separated for years, and he was now with his other woman. When my mother died of breast cancer, I promised myself that I would always live by what she told me. That was to see about me, myself, and I. “Never let a man control you,” she said, and I just couldn’t do it.
As for my father, he had prostate cancer, but he was hanging in there. I never really had much of a relationship with him, other than when he would come into my room at night and touch me. I told my mother about it, and we got the hell out of there. That’s what a woman with Plan B will do, and I disliked my father ever since. Per the suggestion of my counselor, just in case my father kicked the bucket, I thought I’d go see him so it wouldn’t be on my conscience if something happened to him. I had no other siblings, but that was fine by me. I was known for being selfish, but that suited me just well. As I said, I was looking out for me, and I suspected things would remain that way for a long time to come.
“Did you check your messages yet?” Claudette asked, still looking over my cubicle. “Your phone was ringing off the hook while you were away.”
“I’ll check them when I get out of the meeting. Aren’t you going in there too?”
“I may be a little late, but I’m coming. Korey is supposed to drop off some money for lunch, so I’m waiting for him to arrive.”
I thought our meetings were mandatory, but Claudette was known for having her way with Liz. Now, Liz and I got along pretty well, but all of us could tell that Claudette was her favorite. She was soft-spoken and came off as being polite as ever. Her image was perfect and her work performance