Page 9 of Caught off Guard

I nodded, genuinely honored that Geoff favored me with his time and resources. When I stood by him, people listened. That kind of advocacy was what I needed to keep my job and to ascend to a new one in the future.

DECISIONS

On the wayfrom the Westin, Luther texted my housekeeper, Mrs. Cressley, to have coconut water and bananas waiting for me to replenish my body from last night’s sex fest.

I got home and showered in record time. As the same disrespectful bright sun shone on the glass table in my breakfast nook, I sat in my underwear and monogrammed terry cloth robe, rubbing my still throbbing temples and allowing the craziness of my night with Sophie to sink in. I replayed my recklessness and silently prayed that the consequences of my actions wouldn’t come back to haunt me.

I didn’t have time to beat myself up about it, though. I had to be back “on” in a couple of hours since time stopped for no one. Nothing would keep me down, no matter how bad it was. That was how I stayed at the top of my game through minor injuries and my beloved’s death. I was not the exception to the rules of life.

An hour later after a hearty breakfast, I felt hellish but looked like I owned the Torch instead of playing for the franchise. My custom-made black Gucci peaked lapel suit fit just right and paired perfectly with an apron-toe leather black loafer with gold accents. I popped a peppermint in my mouth to keep me alert as I made my way to Liberation University.

In the back seat of my Bentley Bentayga SUV, I held my tablet in my lap, swiping through thirty-five pages of background information my attorney and accountant prepared earlier in the week about Liberation University. I perused insights about Liberation’s mission and vision, its financial portfolio, and the potential use of my funds. The final page summarized my team of advisors’ overall analysis. LU was the perfect place for me to get a tax write-off and sow my wealth into the lives of young students of color who could live their dreams and represent the values Cece and I held.

This donation would be the third big project in my portfolio of philanthropic ventures. I’d funded two schools in Camden and Trenton, New Jersey, and founded a sports academy for promising inner-city athletes in Southwest Atlanta. This posthumous gift would honor my wife, whose heart for education was bigger than anyone I knew.

As asumma cum laudegraduate with degrees in mathematics education and African American studies from Bucknell University in Lewisburg, Pennsylvania, Cece drew upon her learning and exposure to make a difference in the lives of others until she died. After graduation, she taught highschool math for a few years until my career blew up. Over several dinner conversations, she shared her concern for her brilliant students who couldn’t afford to attend college without scholarships or loans. Cece even stayed after school to assist parents in filling out financial aid forms. Once submitted, she spent even more restless nights worrying about students’ college admission decisions. When the acceptance letters started coming in, Cece worked with students to determine which schools would be best for them, given scholarship offers, family situations, and their plans.

“You pulled yourself together nicely, Boss.” Luther’s words cut through my studying as I glanced at him.

Although he complimented me, his eyes told another story as his firm gaze sliced me like a razor.

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

I lowered my eyes to my iPad again and saw from my peripheral that Luther continued to stare at me. I finally dropped the device onto my lap and sighed, giving him my full attention.

“Say what you have to say, dammit.”

Without hesitation, he cut to the chase.

“I said I’d keep it real with you once she passed…Are you trying to throw away everything you and Ms. Cece worked for? You’re setting yourself up to get burned in multiple ways.” Luther crossed his arms over his thick chest and released a deep breath as if he’d been holding in his words since yesterday.

A part of me was pleased I had established a relationship with Luther that was solid enough for him to speak his truth. The other side of me was upset that he said out loud what I already felt about myself. If Cece could see me, she’d be so disappointed in how I conducted myself with Sophie. Heck, I was ashamed of how I handled myself last night and this morning. Luther wasright. Cece and I hadn’t worked so hard to build an empire for me to tarnish or destroy the Kinney legacy.

“It was my anniversary, and I was weak.”And lonely,I wanted to say but didn’t. “Fortunately, I wrapped everything up and can resume my life. That was a one-time lapse in judgment, so let me focus on meeting this president—Dr. Zora Langston.” I returned my attention to my tablet so I could avoid Luther’s piercing eyes.

Luther shrugged and looked out the window as we sped down the interstate.

“Do you,” he said under his breath.

After a few seconds, he tilted his body my way and pointed his finger at me.

“But I had a friend whose left testicle shrank to the size of a grape because he whored with everything with a clit. He got a case of chlamydia from this girl who said she was clean but was as nasty as the Chattahoochee River. That’s all you need, an STD that blinds you so you have to give up your career.”

I stared at Luther, confused and repulsed by his random rant.

“That’s foul, man. And you need new friends,” I stated my opinion matter-of-factly and lowered my head to signal I was done with this weird ass conversation.

I pulled up Dr. Langston’s bio and official university picture.

The first thing that drew me to her was her face. She wore enough makeup to add an appealing rosy hue to her butterscotch skin. Her natural attractiveness and dress—a crisp white blouse, a single strand of small pearls, and a classic black suit—pulled me in. Although her blackish-brown hair appeared thick and long in the high bun on the top of her head, her overall look screamed disciplined, conservative, and minimalist. I wondered if she wore a Denzel face too.

Something behind her almond-shaped eyes hid something as well. It wasn’t their placement behind sturdy black plastic eyeglass frames but the intentional way she stared into the camera lens, held her head, and smiled robotically. I didn’t buy the act of perfection she tried to sell. Call it game knowing game, but I would bet a million dollars that Zora Langston had a story she kept to herself as she navigated her presidency.

What would it take to know who she was behind closed doors? Did she let her hair down with her friends? I shook my head at my questions, not sure why I cared to dig into the life of a stranger, especially when I couldn’t handle my own crises without resorting to destructive behaviors.

OFF THE CUFF

The two hundredpeople at the annual scholarship luncheon in the largest ballroom on Liberation’s campus hung onto my every word as I shared with them the tough news I’d only received yesterday afternoon. The mood was ominous for me today, unlike the times when I stood in this hall to honor an outstanding class of alumni or to celebrate the milestones of students who represented the inclusive values of the university. My palms sweated, and my stomach dropped because my words would change the lives and career trajectories of several Liberation students forever. When I cleared my throat, the sound resonated through the mic, causing everyone to stopeating and stare at me. I clasped my fingers and rested them on the top of the lectern as the room quieted down.

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