The Ex Project by Nia Arthurs
Chapter Thirty
Yolanda foughtoff guilt and anxiety as she parked her car in front of her mother’s mansion and helped Tay-Tay out of the front seat.
Her movements were slow and plodding. A heavy weight had settled on her since her visit with Duane and she couldn’t shake it.
“You’re here.” Jada padded out the front door, dressed casually in a chambray shirt and a knee-length knitted skirt.
“Gran!” Tay-Tay ran to her.
She gave him a hug. “Go on inside. I asked the cook to make your favorite.”
“Mac and cheese with fried chicken?”
“You have such a sophisticated palette, my grandson.”
“Yay!” Tay-Tay went flying inside.
“Thanks for watching him, mom.”
“Of course.” She folded her arms over her chest, her eyes squinting against the late evening sunshine. “What’s wrong? Why is football practice cancelled all of a sudden?”
“That’s what I’m going to find out.” She paused. “Duane hinted that he was having some problems with permits and licenses. I think the government interfered.”
Jada nodded, a determined look in her eye. “It has something to do with Azueta, doesn’t it?”
She shrugged.
“Pompous bastard,” Jada mumbled. It was the closest her mother had come to cursing in years. “Duane must be upset.”
“He’s playing it off.”
“Men tend to do that.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“You’ll avenge him?”
She smirked. “You’ve been watching Marvel movies again?”
“Duane doesn’t deserve to be bullied. You have my permission to use the full extent of our name. That includes letting Carl know.”
“I planned to do that anyway.” She gave her mom a wave. “But I appreciate the support.”
“Yolanda.”
She stopped in her tracks and turned back.
“Duane looks good on you. And on Tay-Tay. You’re both bolder and more confident with him in your lives. I’ve never seen you protect anyone but Tay-Tay this way.”
“Can we save the sappy talk for later? I have to go knock some heads together.”
“I’ll have something scrumptious for you to eat when you get back.”
Yolanda returned to her car. Once inside, she called her family’s handler, an old British man named Carl, and instructed him to investigate Duane’s permit issue.
He called her back in less than twenty minutes.
“The order was given by Azueta,” Carl said softly. He was an older man with a bad back and an even worse temper. But he’d always had a soft spot for her. “Given how rapidly the order was carried out, I assume it was personal.”
“Motive?”
“I believe this ban was in response to Mr. Marden’s comments on national television. There were some accusations hurled at the ministry. They negatively affected Azueta’s poll numbers.”
“Duane only spoke the truth.”
“There is no truth in politics. Only good PR and bad PR.”
“It’s a good thing money talks louder than both those things.”
“How much do I need to transfer?”
“I’ll text you the amount. Find Azueta’s off-shore bank account just in case he wants to play hardball.”
Carl sounded surprised. “He admitted to having one?”
“I’m making assumptions.”
“Unlike you.”
“But am I ever wrong?”
Carl chuckled. “I’ll be ready.”
“Thank you.”
He hesitated and she took note of it. Normally, Carl would hang up the phone as soon as the conversation was over.
“Ms. Walsh.”
“Carl, you’ve known me since I was in diapers. Call me Yolanda.”
“Are you making these moves on Mr. Marden’s behalf?”
“You’re concerned?” She could hear it in his voice.
“You made similar investments in the other one’s career.” Carl despised Devon and never said his name.
“I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
“What is the difference?”
“Aren’t you overstepping your bounds, Carl?”
“I kept silent last time and looked what happened.”
She chuckled.
“Is it loneliness? Infatuation? Overactive hormones?”
“Devon was hormones.”
“And this one?”
“He’s…” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “He makes me believe that I’m worthy of love. He makes me feel safe and taken care of. He respects me and fights for me and encourages me to be vulnerable and patient with myself.” Tears cropped into her eyes. “He’s the one person, apart from Tay-Tay, that I would never want to hurt.”
Carl remained quiet for a beat and then said, “I’ll handle it.”
She hung up.
The ride downtown took fifteen minutes. It was more than enough time to get her emotions under wraps and focus on the mission.
Yolanda parked next to the understated, yet prestigious wooden restaurant. It was situated near the Belize River and the décor matched the still body of water perfectly. String lights hugged the wooden beams. A large dock stretched out over the shallows.
Young, affluent Belizeans from the working class—lawyers, doctors, and the sons of business owners—gathered to drink beers and make informal alliances.
It was the wrong place for a politician who’d earned his seat by handing out fifty-dollar bills to his constituents. Which meant Azueta wasn’t here to decompress. He was after support for his campaign.
She hoped her arrival didn’t mess up his plans too badly.
Yolanda headed inside. Heads swiveled in her direction immediately. She fluffed her hair, making an entrance as she strutted to the bar.
“Plain coke,” she told the bartender. She wanted something to sip on, but she didn’t want to get tipsy.
He slid the drink over and she glanced around the room. Her lips puckered on the straw and released. Several eyes were watching her, but none of them were Azueta’s.
She checked her phone again to make sure she was at the right restaurant. She was.
“Excuse me.” A bold man in a sharp business suit fell into the chair beside her. “I know the chances of a woman as gorgeous as you being single is slim to none, but I had to take a shot.”
“You were right. I have a boyfriend.”
“Ah.” He pressed a hand to his chest.
“But,” she fluttered her eyelashes, “you could help me with something.”
“For you? Anything.”
Her eyes slid to the hallway that led to the private rooms. “There.”
“I knew you were my style.”
She smirked. “Don’t get excited. I just need to use your name with someone back there.” He handed over his business card and she tilted her head to the side. “I’ll owe you one.”
“I’ll come and collect.”
“Don’t bother.” She slid off the bar stool and adjusted her blouse. “My people will find you.”
“Your people?”
She tossed a smile over her shoulder. “This is business. My people will handle it.”
“If your boyfriend ever lets you down, give me a call!”
Yolanda didn’t bother answering. She was already hustling past him and strutting to the private rooms.
As she walked, two big, burly guards stood in her way. “Ma’am, you’re not allowed back there.”
“My name is Yolanda Walsh.” She arched an eyebrow at each of them.
They didn’t budge.
“Whether you recognize me or not means nothing, but if your boss finds out you heard that name and didn’t immediately step aside, it’ll be your bodies in the freezer. Do you understand?”
One of the burly guards looked at the other. He stepped away to make a call and then returned to her.
“Ms. Walsh.” He dipped his chin.
She smiled haughtily and stalked past them. Although Yolanda tried to stay on the right side of the law, she wasn’t averse to using the talents of those who straddled the line. Especially if that meant she could protect the people she cared about.
Thick carpets swallowed the sound of her heels. Pounding bass noise came from one of the private rooms. She peered into the window of the door and saw Azueta, lying in a couch, smoking something.
Yolanda poised her finger on her camera app and burst into the room, wielding the phone like a gun. Women shrieked and men covered their faces, running away from the light of her phone like rats in a cave.
“Everyone out,” she said in a calm voice. “Or this video gets sent to every major news station in Belize.”
The low-level officials sprinted away.
The businessmen went next.
Azueta remained seated, but he was sitting up, a look of outrage on his pompous face. “How dare you!”
“You made a critical mistake going after Marden.” She sat in the chair and plucked a strawberry from the fruit bowl. Strawberries were not native to Belize. They had to be imported. Given how plump and thick this one was, it must have cost a lot.
“M-Marden?”
“I’m here to discuss how you’re going to rectify your mistake.” She bit into the strawberry. It was tart. Making a face, Yolanda tossed it back into the tray.
“What does Marden have to do with you?”
“Give him his license back and permit him to run all the tournaments he wants. I also need a signed contract that you will not tamper in his business again.”
He tilted his head, studying her. “What makes you so bold, little girl?”
“First, I am not a little girl.” Her eyes sharpened and she shot him a dangerous look. “Second, my family did not keep this wealth for generations by hesitating to exploit a weakness. I have yours.”
Azueta trembled and lurched toward her.
She lifted the stranger’s business card and flipped it around. “So does he. I would think twice before you put your hands on me, Azueta. I wouldn’t want things to get ugly for you. If anything happens to me, this man will make sure you’re justly rewarded for your stupidity.”
He sat back down.
Her heart rate returned to normal. “Now, let’s talk like adults. What do you want?”
“Your business contacts was all I needed at first.” Azueta leaned back, his eyes squinty and calculating, “But now that you’ve come to me so aggressively…”
“Name it.”
He gave a number that made her want to laugh. Why did politicians always think so shortsightedly? For matters of the country and their own private deals, so few of them took the time to think things through. Greed was such a powerful and foolish motivation.
She texted Carl the number and, two minutes later, got a response. “The money’s in your account.”
Azueta’s eyes lit up. As he checked his phone, he mumbled, “The ban will be lifted tomorrow.”
“Tonight.”
He went still. “What?”
“The ban will be lifted tonight.” She placed her purse strap over her shoulder.
“But the offices are closed. We can’t do anything until business hours.”
“Azueta,” she chuckled, “I invested in your ability to fix the problem. I don’t want to hear your complaints.” Her smile turned icy. “Just get it done.”
He bobbed his head.
She rose to her feet, grabbed a bottle of champagne and hefted it. “I’m taking this as a symbol of our partnership.”
“Of course. Of course.” He kept staring at his phone, no doubt counting the zeroes.
Yolanda sauntered out the door and saw someone passing by. Her eyes widened and she doubled back, squinting as the figure carrying a tray of drinks ducked into another hallway.
Was that Zaka? She blinked in confusion, staring at the now-empty hallway as she called her eyesight into question.
But it couldn’t be.
Why would her friend be working in the backrooms of a place like this?
Shaking her head, Yolanda left the restaurant and got into her car. As she started the engine, her phone rang.
It was Devon.
Immediately, her body ran cold and she hesitated to answer.
The phone kept ringing.
She picked up and stared into the dark parking lot. “Hello?”
“I’m already at the restaurant. Are you still coming?”
“Give me twenty minutes.”
“Twenty? Yollie, don’t tell me you forgot about our date.”
“I didn’t forget, Devon.” Her stomach roiled and she felt like she was swimming underwater. “I’ll be there.”
“I’ll order for you.”
Yolanda cringed. She hated when he did that. He never knew what to get her, always choosing things he liked. Over the years, Yolanda wondered if he kept ordering her meals because he thought she would choose expensive menu options. She didn’t know why. She had always been considerate of his wallet when they went out.
“Devon.”
“Huh?”
“This won’t change anything. I’m meeting you tonight because you promised you would keep showing up for Tay-Tay, even if that meant you had to give up on me.”
He chuckled nervously. “Why are you so serious, Yollie? You don’t know until you try. There could still be a spark.”
“There isn’t,” she said flatly. No matter what, being with Duane showed her what it was like to be treated well. Devon could not make her heart waver anymore.
“Yolanda…”
“I’ll see you soon. You have one hour. After that, I’m going home to my boyfriend and my son.”
She hung up the phone and tossed it into the passenger seat.
