Page 23 of Big Mad
“I’ve got it.” She sighed heavily. The way her breasts pushed against the velvet captivated me. “Don’t worry, Wash. You can open my door at the DuVall Mansion. I’ll be appreciative. The perfect date.”
“Good,” I replied, helping latch her seatbelt.
Her eyes locked on me when I looked up. She murmured, “Then you can escort Latrice to Gaston’s fancy brunch at the end of March. Deal?”
“No deal.” I shook my head enough to snap my neck. “Nah. No deal. Gaston DuVall is my mentor, Maddy. He got me intohis alma mater. I would never have met you at Stanford without him.”
“Oh, so he played love connection?”
“In a roundabout way. Listen, it was my decision to join Cohen & DuVall the second I passed the bar. We needed to pay off our student loans quick, but he warned me about the work.”
“I know,” she murmured.
I smiled at her, memories of us deciding that I’d work my ass off for big money came to mind. We’d been young and money hungry. No, honestly, I’d been money hungry, needing her father’s respect. “We’re doing DuVall this one solid for all the help he gave us. He gave me a chance. Steak and cake,chère. But I feel you. I can’t stand his ass either.”
“No, don’t try to sympathize with my feelings for your mentor. And one favor, Mr. Baby No? Hello? Did you forget about the other two events you forced me to sign up for?” After all her questions, I saw it. That slow, tectonic shift of her face. Her eyes didn’t just narrow, they scanned my soul. And then her face went soft, gorgeous, and peaceful instead of offering me that hurricane I just signed up for.
Madison said, “Actually, how was lunch with Latrice the other day?”
Grinning, I eased into the lane. “You jealous?”
“Nope.”
“Jealous adjacent,” I said under my breath.
“I can hear you, Washington Baby No. I’m not jealous in the slightest. You’re leading that woman on. Latrice is inlustwith you.”
I explained the situation about Latrice, and it went in one ear and out the other. My wife didn’t have any words for me when I told her she wasn’t getting out of our contract. Just sat there, arms folded. Sexy and surly.
The car eased up the long, oak-lined drive. Spanish moss hung low enough to swipe the roof. The mansion looked like a history book and a horror movie had a baby, with its black columns and old money confidence.
Madison shifted beside me, one manicured finger drumming against her clutch. “Tell me again why I gotta play your girlfriend to impress the man who popped champagne when we divorced?” she asked, side-eyeing the house.
“He didn’t …”He did.
“Mm-hmm.She’s too artistic, Washington,” Madison mocked.
“For the record, Gaston never said that.” He was pretentious though, and he’d given me a shot. Gaston DuVall had chosen me to intern at Cohen & DuVall back when either he or his white partner thought the firm needed more diversity.
“Okay, but will they be auctioning souls with the art? I should’ve greased up with all your mom’s prayer oil tonight. May need protection.”
I bit back a laugh. “Chère, it’s for charity. And I’ma always gonna protect you.”
She twisted in her seat, all perfume and attitude. “When you left corporate law, I thought we’d gotten rid of him.” She folded her arms. “So now, I need background information on why you, awhole juvenile court judge,are helping that country-club wannabe politician. Guess I should be thankful for corporate law burnout.”
I straightened my tie. “District Judge DuVall is running for appellate court next year. He’s tryna make a name for himself as the face of ‘ethical reform.’ ”
“Which translates to that Black man woke up and remembered he needed to present a more diverse facade?”
“No lie there.”
“How many other educated brothas does he have on his roster?”
“C’mon,bébé. Let’s go in and see.”
“Okay. He hates me, FYI. I’m good with it. But if he embarrasses me, Wash, I’m gonna scuff this dashboard up so bad that your little judge friends will think you drive Uber and Lyft on the weekends.”
“You know what, since you’re doing that sexy pout thing, I won’t call that a violation of our contract.”
