Contrasts

Chapter Two-1

Chapter Two

On the Thursday night of the poker game when Ann pulled into the parking lot behind the Catholic Youth Center she opened the door of her car to find Darnell Tyman standing in front of her. She drew back and tried to close the door. He reached out to hold it open.

He stood there a moment staring down at her, his eyes hard, his mouth a narrow slit.

“Wha....what....do you want?” she stammered.

He glared at her, “I don’t give a f**k about that damn school, but I don’t want some fuckin white cunt sayin when I can and can’t go there.”

“You threatened me. You...you...grabbed me.” She began to fumble in her purse for her cell phone.

He leaned into the car, “Callin 911 ain’t a good idea,” he said. She put the purse back. “That’s better,” he nodded. “You gettin smart.” He grinned down at her, “I be back in school Monday. How about you wearin a sexy dress or a short skirt stead of them old lady clothes?” He laughed and walked away.

The regular poker players arrived at Paul and Ann’s house on time. The new man, Gordon Watts, was late. They were sitting down at the dining room table when he rang the bell. Paul opened the door and stepped back. The man was huge, six four at least and probably over three-hundred and fifty pounds, most of it in his expansive belly. He was dressed immaculately, some gold bling but not too much. When they shook hands Paul’s was lost in his. He smiled, “Thank you for inviting me to your lovely home,” he said. It appeared that, although the other men had met him before, only John Albertson knew him well. Before sitting down, Watts looked around nodding in approval, “Your wife keeps a very neat house and has excellent taste,” he said. “I’m looking forward to meeting her.”

Paul was busy getting one of the two larger dining room chairs for the new arrival,

“Ahh, she’s volunteering at the Catholic Youth Center. She’ll be home a little later.”

Watts settled into the chair, “Helping the troubled young people in our community...she’s not only a good wife, she has a good heart.”

Paul was sitting, shuffling the cards, “Yes...yes, indeed she does, she certainly does.”

As the game went on Paul continued to lose, particularly to Watts. He estimated he’d lost another two-thousand when he heard Ann’s car in the driveway then her key in the door. All of the men stopped playing and looked up as she entered the room. As usual she was wearing oversized jeans, sneakers, and a baggy sweatshirt. Her cheeks were flushed, but except for a light coat of pale pink lipstick, she wore no makeup. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail. Watts stood up to greet her. The other men followed his lead.

“Ahh, Ms. Gardner,” he said smiling, “earlier I was saying what a charming home you’ve created here and now it’s obvious that the creator is even more lovely and charming than her creation.”

Ann felt herself blushing, “Thank you, but,” she smiled in the direction of her husband, “Paul is very supportive and helpful.” She hurried over to kiss him lightly on the cheek. Introductions were made. “I don’t want to interrupt your game, “she said. “Is there anything I can get you?”

Paul shook his head, “No, I have everything under control. You must be tired. We’ll try to keep the noise to a minimum.”

She smiled at them, “Well, all right then. It was nice meeting you gentlemen. Please don’t let my husband lose too much.” They watched her move down the hall before sitting down. As Paul dealt the first hand Gordon Watts leaned back to take a framed wedding picture off the sideboard behind them. He studied it for a few moments and turned to Paul, “She’s a beautiful woman and quite young, yes?”

“Almost a child bride,” Paul smiled. “She’s twenty-four.”

“John tells me that she teaches at the High School for Business and Technology right here in Brooklyn?”

“Yes, history.”

“I have a nephew who goes there. I’ll ask him if he knows her.”

The game ended an hour later. Paul had lost another five hundred. As the others were leaving, John Albertson and Gordon Watts held back indicating that they had something to discuss. Paul closed the door and the three men returned to the dining room and sat at the table.

John was first to speak. “As I mentioned this afternoon, Gordon might have a business proposition for us...for you.”

The big man folded his hands and smiled across at Paul. “Yes, I think I do. John tells me that the trucking company has taken some hard hits and is in a bit of financial trouble.”

Reluctantly Paul nodded, “That’s right, sorry to say. I’d be most grateful if you could perhaps let us bid on some of your trucking contracts.”

“Well, we may be able to do a bit better than that. How about meeting in my office tomorrow at five o’clock, just me, John, you, and your wife.”

“My wife?”

Watts chuckled, “John tells me she usually adds her name to obligatory notes and such so it would be convenient to have her attend.”

“Yes, ok. She’s finished at the school at three. We can make it.”

The two black men rose. “Good,” Watts said, “John will give you directions.”

Journal Entry

Poor Ann. She was still awake when I went to bed last night after the poker game. That punk kid, Darnell, accosted her in the parking lot of the Youth Center. She wants me to go to the police about him. I promised her I would if it happens one more time. I have too much on my plate right now to get involved with the police.

Even though I lost a bundle last night maybe my luck is changing. John’s friend, Gordon Watts, was very impressive. It’s easy to see why he’s the CEO of a major corporation. He has a commanding presence and he’s big. I was afraid the dining room chair might collapse under him. He’s all but promised to throw some major contracts our way. What a Godsend that would be! I was surprised when he said he wanted Ann to attend the meeting this afternoon. I don’t understand why John told him that Ann’s name was on those obligatory notes. There was no reason for him to reveal that. When I told Ann about the meeting this morning she was not pleased. She’d have to rush home after class, shower, change, and then travel into the city with me to sit in on a meeting she had no interest in. She also mentioned that she was uncomfortable around John and even more uncomfortable in the presence of Gordon Watts (“that big guy” she called him). She said they looked at her in a way that made her want to run from the room. It’s her imagination because of that black kid. I didn’t notice anything.

The office of Gordon Watts was in a high rise building on East 53rd Street in Manhattan. Paul and Ann rode the subway to Penn Station and took a cab. Even though it was a very hot and humid mid September afternoon, Ann wore a rather long full black skirt, a white cotton blouse and a black one button jacket, plus pantyhose and her single pair of mid heel black shoes, the little coat of pale lipstick and no other makeup. She did let her hair fall naturally to her shoulders.

Six floors of the building were occupied by “Watts Import Export Inc”. Gordon’s office was on the top floor. The reception area was spacious and richly appointed. To the right and left of the elevator were long hallways leading to a number of offices. Behind the reception desk was a very young, very thin, very pretty black girl. She couldn’t have been more than a year out of high school. The placard on her desk read “Rona”. She looked up at them unsmiling. “Mr. Watts is expecting you.” She pressed a button on her desk, they heard a click. She gestured toward the heavy oak door behind her.

Watts’ office was tastefully and expensively furnished: two leather couches, a scattering of leather arm chairs, his massive teak desk, modern paintings, big mirrors, a black marble bar, four black and white stools, a huge closet, a full bathroom, and on two walls floor to ceiling windows which looked out on the East River and upper Manhattan.

Neither Ann nor Paul had ever been in an office as elegant as this. Everything in the office proclaimed that Watts was unquestionably rich and very powerful.

He rose to greet them and indicated they should sit in the two leather wing chairs facing his desk. They hadn’t noticed her at first but a striking Asian woman at a serving bar on the far wall was pouring coffee into three cups. When they were seated, she placed the cups on small tables next to their chairs and then took the remaining cup to Watts who smiled up at her. “This is my assistant, Ms. Ying. She is not only a gracious hostess, but is a brilliant woman and valued advisor.” He paused as the woman smiled slightly and nodded at Paul and Ann. Watts continued, “She’s been with me a long time. These days the success of any import/export business depends on having connections in China. Ms. Ying has many such connections.” Ms. Ying looked hard at Ann, then bowed slightly and left the room.

When she was gone, Ann smiled at Watts, “She’s a very beautiful woman.”

“Yes, she is indeed. You would never guess that she’s in her mid fifties.”

“I would have thought early forties,” Ann said.

Watts nodded, “Yes, some Chinese women age quickly while others seem to be ageless.” He opened a folder on his desk, studied it for a moment then looked across at Paul. “John has told me about your financial problems. It appears that you are in danger of losing the company.”

Paul felt betrayed. Ann knew he was worried, but he’d kept the extent of the looming disaster from her. “Well, I don’t know about losing it...,” he began.

Frowning Watts interrupted, “We’re not going to get anywhere here today if you sit there and bullshit me.”

Paul cleared his throat, “You’re right,” he said, “Things are bad.”

Watts leafed through several more papers then closed the folder and leaned back. “Here’s the situation,” he began, “your trucking company is losing money every month. I can send you enough business to keep it solvent and even make it profitable.” Paul smiled and started to rise and hold out his hand. Watts waved him back in his chair. “There are more serious problems that need to be addressed before I save your company.” He paused watching the color drain from Paul’s face. “Just for openers,” Watts continued, “you owe your poker playing friends about eighty-thousand dollars and last night after we left your house they told me they wanted their money or your troubles would not be limited to financial ones.”

Ann gasped and turned to look at her husband, “Is that true, Paul? Is what he’s saying true?”

Paul nodded, “Yes but...”

Watts cut him off again, “More important than either the failing business or the poker debt are these.” He held up a sheaf of papers. “These are copies of the notes you and your wife signed. You’ve been scamming the poor suckers who invested in your pathetic company. You’ve stolen what amounts to a half million dollars.”

Ann put her hands up to her face, “Oh my God,” she cried.

Watts stared across at Paul, “Your wife’s name is on all the notes. My guess is she didn’t know what she was signing, but that won’t make any difference to the law. Both of you will go to prison; you for no less than ten years and your wife no less than five.”

Ann burst into tears. Paul tried to comfort her, but she turned away from him. He looked across at Watts, “But if you help me get the company back on its feet I can pay everything back. No one needs to know about the notes.”

Watts smiled at him, “Let’s review,” he said. “Your business is almost bankrupt. You owe eighty thousand in gambling debts. You have cheated your stockholders of at least a half million. Now, you’re saying if I throw a couple of contracts your way you can solve all those problems. Get real, Mr. Gardner, get real.” Ann, her head bowed, continued to hold her face between her hands and weep quietly. Paul, too, slumped in his chair and bowed his head. Watts waited a few moments then began again, “That’s the bad news, but there could be good news. It depends on you two.”

They looked up at him, “You mean you’ll help us out of this?” Ann asked.

He leaned forward and folded his hands on the desk, “It depends. I’m not into the charity business. I’m a deal maker and a deal requires something from the two parties making the deal.”

“Anything,” Paul said quickly. “Anything...I’ll sign half the trucking company over to you...whatever it takes.”

Watts chuckled, “What the f**k would I want with half interest in a failed trucking company?” He opened his desk drawer and took out two typewritten sheets. “I will make you a verbal promise that will resolve your financial problems, all of them and keep the two of you out of the state penitentiary. You will sign these contracts.” He tapped the two sheets before him. “Now, this next part is important. You will honor every item in the contracts, never violating a single one. If you do, then I rescind my promise and your failed business plus your debts come right back to you along with prison sentences for both of you.” He waited, letting that sink in. “Now, you are under no obligation to sign the contracts. If you choose poverty and jail instead that’s your prerogative.” He put each contract in a separate envelope, sealed them, and printed Paul’s name on one and Ann’s on the other. “Read them when you get home. Talk it over. Decide. If you elect to sign them do so knowing that the conditions are not negotiable. Know that those conditions must be met in every instance. No excuses accepted. If you choose to sign them, Mrs. Gardner is to phone my receptionist, Rona, and do exactly what she directs you to do.” He shoved a card across the desk. “She will arrange for another meeting.” He handed them the envelopes. The Chinese woman seemed to appear out of nowhere and escorted them back to the reception room where, without saying a word, she left them.