Any Way the Wind Blows - E. Lynn Harris [73]
“Fine. I love your calls with all this good news,” I said.
“And I love giving it to you,” Michel said.
Friends and Strangers
Plaza Hotel. Where may I direct your call?”
“Ava Middlebrooks, please,” I said.
“Is she an employee or a guest?”
“A guest.”
After a few rings, Ava picked up the phone. “Ava speaking.”
“Ava, this is Bart. We’ve run into a little snag. I need to get another lawyer. Do you know anybody in New York who would take my case?” I asked.
“What happened?” Ava asked.
I told Ava that Gail had decided to drop me as a client when I wouldn’t take Basil’s offer. I also told her how she was upset with LaVonya’s blind items.
“What kinda lawyer wouldn’t appreciate a little free publicity for their client?” Ava demanded. “And you better believe that won’t be the last line in LaVonya’s column.”
“So what do you think I should do? Maybe I should take the money,” I said.
“Listen to me. You don’t want to let him off that easy. From what I know, fifty thousand dollars ain’t shit to him. That’s like giving you ten dollars. If you settle, don’t you have to sign some kind of agreement which says you can’t speak about the case?”
“Yep, that’s part of the deal. Take the check and keep my damn mouth shut,” I said.
“And when your little lady lawyer gets her share, you won’t have nada. Are you going to let Basil do that to you?”
“My lawyer thinks she can get him to pay legal fees,” I said. For the first time, I was beginning to wonder if getting back at Basil was worth the trouble.
“What’s all that noise in the background?” Ava asked.
“I’m heading toward the subway. I just left a go-see.”
“Honey, you still riding the subway? That’s why you can’t give this thing up. You can make more money by writing a book.”
“You think I could sell a book?”
“Maybe I’ll even back your book. You know, I’ve been thinking about writing a book about my own career and life. I could call it something like Diary of a Diva,” Ava said, and laughed. She was going on and on about her life, and here I was not having a clue about what my next move should be.
“What about my lawyer?”
“Maybe we don’t need a lawyer. Maybe we can really do some damage to Basil, and I’ll take care of that little money he was offering you, plus some,” Ava said.
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s time to get personal. It’s time to let his family, friends and some of his clients know what kinda freak Basil is,” Ava said.
“I’ll call you when I get home.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Ava said.
I clicked off my cell phone and headed down the stairs of the subway thinking about one of my favorite childhood films, The Wizard of Oz. I just might be dealing with the real Wicked Witch of the West.
• • •
I stopped by Wylie’s after I had a late go-see for a fashion show at Gucci. I didn’t know why my agent had sent me on the call, since he knew I wasn’t white-boy Gucci thin, but I went on those calls sometimes just to see what I could see. This was a wasted call on both counts: I didn’t get the job and I didn’t get leads on any other work.
I walked into Wylie’s prewar midtown building. The doorman knew me and said he’d tell Wylie I was on my way up. On the elevator ride I was deciding if I should tell Wylie what Ava wanted me to do. I knew he would be judgmental, but I didn’t give a shit because he didn’t have my bills to pay. I pulled some lotion out of my bag and worked some into my hands just as the elevator stopped and opened into a large foyer. Just as I stepped out, I heard Wylie’s voice: “What a wonderful surprise. I’m just having my evening cocktail.”
“Now, that’s a surprise,” I said as I gave Wylie a kiss on the cheek and walked into his spacious living room. It was a casually decorated apartment with the appearance of money. It had thick Oriental rugs from Wylie’s trips to Asia, and built-in bookshelves packed with books. The room had two soft couches in pastel colors and a beautiful mahogany bench that doubled as a coffee table until he replaced the glass-topped one some of his trade had broken. The end tables had