CHAPTER FIVE HUNDRED and SEVENTY
“As if,” Tanesha said.
She continued reading Twitter. The general consensus was that no one was going to miss this jerk.
She saw a clip of his forty-year old wife teeter around on five inch heels and skin tight clothing while dragging their two young children into the hospital last night.
“Someone’s going to miss him,” Tanesha said out loud.
She pressed on the video of the Police Chief press conference and tried to glean the details.
They believed the billionaire had died of natural causes.
He was 84 years old. His arteries had more stents like pins in a pincushion. The heart attack wasn’t a surprise to anyone.
Because he was so wealthy and influential, they were going to do an autopsy.
“What a mess,” Tanesha said out loud.
She looked at the phone for a moment and wondered if she should call Jeraine. She instinctively shook her head.
This was the kind of thing that could send Jeraine into one of his anxiety induced freak outs. His brain would blink out. He would completely fall apart.
Her phone pinged.
She looked to see a photo of Jabari and the other children chasing Sarah and Buster at the dog park. She smiled at the photo.
He didn’t know. Yet.
She was pretty sure that Jeraine’s agent, Jammy, would know better than to call him. She bit the inside of her lip.
Maybe she should call him.
Her phone rang. She was so lost in thought that she did what she almost never did — she automatically answered her phone.
“Hello,” Tanesha said, her mind was still focused on the death of this billionaire.
“Is this Miss T?” a woman’s voice asked.
Tanesha pulled the phone away from her ear to look at the number. It was blocked. She thought for a second and then shrugged.
“Some people call me that,” Tanesha said.
“I always liked you,” the woman said. “You were grace under a lot of crap.”
“Okay,” Tanesha said.
“These men,” the woman’s sorrow came through the line. She sniffed. “They put us through hell and then they …”
“You’ve got that right,” Tanesha said. “Is there something I can do for you?”
“I just wanted you to know that …” the rest was lost as the woman began to sob.
“Is there someone I can call for you?” Tanesha asked.
“No.” The woman took a breath. Her voice laced with rage. “That bastard died on top of some floozy. I should have expected it but … I… and now I’m humiliated.”
“I know what that’s like,” Tanesha said.
“I know you do,” the woman said. “This is between you and me.”
There was a sound of ripping paper.
“That’s Jeraine’s contract,” she said. “Fuck them. You tell Jeraine that Jeanie took care of it.”
“Wait, what?” Tanesha asked.
“I’ve got to go,” the woman said. “I’m going to buy out the front row for a year. You tell Jeraine that.”
“Who is this?” Tanesha asked.
The woman said the name of the young wife of the billionaire.
“I don’t get all of it,” she said. “But I get a lot.”
She blew out a breath. Her emotions were packed away.
“Now starts the rest of your life,” Tanesha said.
“Damn right,” the woman said and hung up the phone.
Tanesha looked at her phone. She went back to Twitter to see if any of the things the woman said were on Twitter. The first thing that came up was a photo of shredded paper from the wife of the billionaire.
The post said: “Jeraine’s contract. Setting things straight. Love you, Miss T. #Jeraine #Freedom”
Tanesha clicked the heart and retweet the post. Grinning, Tanesha poured herself her first cup of tea for the day.
Denver Cereal continues on Monday…
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