Thelma: Addictions Desire Secrets by Dante Vereen - HTML preview

PLEASE NOTE: This is an HTML preview only and some elements such as links or page numbers may be incorrect.
Download the book in PDF, ePub, Kindle for a complete version.

CHAPTER THREE  

 

I drove in silence for ten minutes, occasionally glancing at Thelma and wondering what was going on in her mind. She sat there in the passenger's seat wholly absorbed in whatever she was doing on her phone. Having sex with Belinda was a colossal mistake. I felt guilty for the first time. I always thought I owed no one an explanation about my sexual escapades. The guilt was so unbearable that I thought the only way to free my conscience was to open up.

"A penny for your thoughts," she asked.

"I was wondering about the best place to go this evening."

"Hudson Yards Grill on 11th Avenue will be a nice place," she answered, before adding, "Who was that angry lady that gave you a stare so scorching it could burn up Manhattan?

I couldn't hold it back anymore, so I spilled the beans.

"She is Belinda, a friend. We were in the middle of something. I left her without an excuse to see you as soon as you came in."

"Well, hell hath no fury as a woman scorned," Thelma noted.

"We were having sex just before you showed up,” I finally brought myself to say. “I'm so sorry, Thelma. I didn't plan this. She bumped into my office, and I couldn't help it."

I reached out to touch her hands, but she said nothing. She maintained a weird calmness. I could tell that a lot was going on in her mind. Her facial expression didn’t give anything away. The guilt was like a heavy load on my shoulder. So, we drove to her home without saying more than a few words.

After a series of attempts to get her to say something, she just maintained a squinty smirk on her face. We finally pulled over, right in front of her apartment. She planted a kiss on my cheek before I could get out to open the car door for her. She opened the door herself and left without saying a word.  

On my drive back, I thought of Belinda. I thought of calling her on the phone to end the whole arrangement we had. But I decided against it. It wouldn’t have been gentlemanly to break us up via the telephone. Besides, it was her birthday, and she really deserved some affection.

On her previous birthday, she and I had gone to Hawaii for the weekend. To be honest, I forgot about her birthday. The weekend with Thelma occupied every corner of my mind, and I could not make any plans for Belinda's birthday. If she had not walked into my office, I don't think I would have remembered. I know I could have refused Belinda's seduction, but of all my girlfriends I’ve had, Belinda had the temper. She didn't care whose ox was gored when she doesn't have her way. Sometimes it was best to just give in to her whims just for the sake of peace.

 So, I drove straight to a Chinese restaurant, had a take-out because my appetite was yet to recover from Thelma’s cold treatment.

I headed back home into my loneliness and want of Thelma.  

*****

My sister and I had been on the phone for close to an hour. Anelida and her boyfriend had been experiencing a difficult time in their relationship. She rarely opens up about their affair, but it was evident that she was beginning to develop something more significant than a casual tie for the dude. Her boyfriend had moved out to Brooklyn after their last fight. She wanted him back but was having a struggle with the idea of telling him how she felt for him.

I was still listening to her come up with various excuses to call him when I noticed an unusual car pulling up at my house. The wrong house, I thought as I peeked through the blinds. “Anelida, let me call you back,” I said when I noticed the car didn’t move an inch from my front porch. A few seconds later, two gentlemen dressed in suits came to knock at my door. They were detectives from the 17th precinct.

I let them in with a confused look, and after they had taken their seats at the sitting room, the baldheaded one was the first to ask.

"Where were you between the hours of 7 to 9 pm?"

I looked at the clock over their heads on the wall, and it was 9.48 pm.

"I left a diner some blocks away by 8 pm and headed straight home. Sorry, what's the problem here? Did anything happen at my office?"

They didn't accurately answer my question.

"Who was with you at the diner?" The baldheaded detective asked again.

"I was alone, but I dropped a friend off some minutes before –"

"Sorry, you said…a friend?"

"Yes, Thelma Bunchild, did anything happen to her." I tried to get my cell phone to reach her immediately before they eased my mind.

"No. I don't think she has a problem, Mr. Jareau. But erm… Is the name Belinda Jakes familiar with you?"

Belinda? What has that crazy bitch done again?

A lot of questions ran through my mind before their incessant question brought me back to consciousness.

 "Mr. Anthony, please, we just want to know if you know her or met her before by any chance. Or if she's one of your clients who -"

"Yes, I know her, she's my friend."

They exchanged glances at each other, apparently surprised that I admitted to knowing her. Of course, I know Belinda. She may be crazy sometimes, but I didn't think she would do something stupid enough to bring the detectives to my door.

However, it started dawning on me when they reintroduced themselves as homicide detectives. Belinda was found dead in her car a few blocks away from my office. Evidently, I was the last person she had seen or spoken to. Her body was still being examined at the autopsy, but the police suggested that she might have taken heavy dosage of drugs.

Belinda is dead?  

********

The risks that stared down my face first was my name and the company being dragged down by the press. As a result, a board meeting was scheduled the following day, after Belinda's untimely death. Part of the resolution was to get lawyered-up against any implicating outcome.

My old friend, Carl Thompson, one of the criminal defense lawyers in Manhattan and a Harvard graduate, rose up to the challenge. We discussed, at length, the possible ways the prosecutors may try to use the unfortunate incident against the company or me.

My innocence was not enough reason for me to fold my hands and do nothing. I've seen a lot of folks go down for something similar. It was hard enough as it was that I lost a good friend, but I won't let her demise cost the company a lot of damage.

"Remember to keep your answers brief and leave me to deal with other complications. If it comes down to it, please plead the fifth." Carl warned.

Plead the fifth.

Innocent people do not plead the fifth, or so I think. But he was the lawyer, and I had to heed his words.

We were at the Police District to answer a couple of questions from Detective K. Morris, the baldheaded guy that came to my apartment with his partner, H. Kingston.

We were dismissed some minutes later. Thelma was very supportive. She called every 5 minutes in the hour to check up on me. She and my family helped me through the ordeal.

Even though my relationship with Belinda was just sexual, her passing had a sting on my emotion and also affected my performance at work. The entire week was really gloomy because I kept having flashes of her image in my head; the lovely times we had together, her beautiful dimples when she smiles, her remarkable voice when she sings, our fights and make-up sex. Her memory haunted me for weeks.

Sometimes I thought, what if I had treated her differently? She was the clingy one amongst all my sexual partners, but we did come to a compromise. She had other sexual partners as well, and she knew I was okay with it.

Was meeting Thelma a blessing or a curse? No. that's so wrong. Thelma had nothing to do with it. Whatever happened to Belinda was still a mystery, and hopefully, the autopsy reports and police investigations will help unravel the mystery.

It was 2.20 am, and I've been trying to catch some sleep, but I couldn't. I finally turned on my phone after switching it off since 8 am. So many people, including friends, family members, and gossips who had my private line, were all trying to either show concern or post a leak on their blogs.

There were a lot of missed calls, audio, and text messages.

Thelma:

"Hi, where are you? I've been buzzing your line, trying to know if you're okay. Please call me.

Anelida:

Tony, come on, call me when you get this.

Anelida:

Seriously, you're making everyone worried. Call me, bro!

Thelma:

I've been to your place two times already. Call me. Xoxo.

+646 705 34 21:

What will be the consequences of all these? Are my stocks safe?

Thelma:

I've missed you (kissing emoji). Connor is back, by the way.

Social media handles were blowing up too, but I just shut down the gadgets for a while. There was too much on my mind, and I needed to only find a release. Rosalind was my go-to at complex times like this, but she was no longer on the list. The list had suddenly declined from three great options to one single person – Thelma.

It’s ironic how things had overturned for me lately. I’d never seen myself as a one-man-one-woman type of guy. Thelma’s one visit to my office had ended many years of my amorous affairs.

 Thelma was even half available. I had to compete with a rival for the woman. I’d dumped all my cards only to compete with a rivalry for her. If that wasn’t karma on my ass, then I doubt what karma really means.

But I had always been a fighter. That’s how I’d been able to get to the level where I am. I decided to be patient, and love Thelma to the point that she’d have no option than to erase Connor out of her mind.

I picked up my phone, ordered a bouquet of flowers, and had it delivered to her anonymously. It was something I had learned from a movie, and I’d maintained the practice for a month. She did get to ask me one time if I was the one.