The Cocktail Club (19 page)

“Whoop-tee-do!” Carla screamed. “Several of the ladies are married! You think you're too good to screw for money? And you think you're better than the rest of us because you give it up for free?” she said with a sharp laugh.

I waited for a moment to respond. I was furious.

“You know what, don't even worry about it,” Carla said. I felt relieved until the next words dropped from her mouth.

“And don't worry about our books either; I'm sure we'll be able to figure it all out.”

First, I heard my heartbeat in my ears, then the dial tone.

“Oh no, the hell she didn't!”

Had that bitch just fired me?

I got up to go get my iPad. I hated when the kids played with it, and still reeling after Carla fired me, I was not prepared for what I found on the iPad after I picked it up from underneath Kevin Jr.'s bed.

“Jesus!” I fell back onto the floor. “What in the hell?” My eyebrows knitted in concentration as I flipped through the stunning images.

Not only had I been fired, but I'd also been sucker punched. I was about to be sick.

IVEE

It had all come back, and the memory hit me like a massive boulder.

Once at the station, I was asked to submit to a blood test. Of course they had already read me my Miranda Rights. I was handcuffed and placed under arrest, but in the back of my mind, I kept thinking that maybe they'd let me go. Maybe no one had to know about this.

“Henderson!”

The voice that barked my name killed that thought. I jumped from the bench and rushed to the small opening. The second I moved, my seat was gone, but what could I do? Three women stood close to the area, like they were being paid to hold those spots. It was still cold and crowded.

“You can make your call now,” an officer said.

In a different setting, he would've been trying to buy me a drink. Instead, I stood back as he unlocked a door to let me out so I could use the phone. That's when another thought hit me. I stood transfixed for a moment. My husband was probably going berserk! It had been nearly twenty-four hours since I'd seen him. OMG! This thing had gotten so out of control. I stood behind another woman who looked like she wasn't even a little fazed by being in jail and making a collect call.

When it was my turn to use the phone, I wanted to cry. What
in the hell would I say? Should I call Zion? Maybe I should call Darby or Peta? Darby would be home. It was Friday morning. But my husband was probably already livid beyond words.

I took a deep breath and pulled the phone's receiver from its cradle. As I waited for an answer, I went over in my head the many ways I could explain that this was all a big misunderstanding.

As the automated voice warned the caller that this was a call from the Harris County Jail from an inmate in custody, I lost it.

“Ivee, what the hell?” Zion screamed.

“I'm so sorry! I wasn't drunk; at least I didn't think I was. I felt fine,” I sobbed.

“Okay, okay, listen. Pull yourself together. Have you seen a judge yet?”

“No, but I overheard someone say they're real crowded and things were moving slower than normal.”

“Okay.” My husband sighed hard. “I was worried sick. I've called Darby, Peta, and Felicia. No one knew where you were.”

“I got arrested leaving the restaurant. I couldn't call until now,” I explained.

“Don't worry about it, babe. I'm glad you're safe, and you're not hurt or anything like that. What about your job? You need me to call them?”

“Oh, God! No. It's Friday, so unless they've called, it's not unusual for me to work from home.”

“Where are you?”

“Downtown, I think. Or wherever the Harris County Jail is.”

“Okay, babe, hold tight. I'm on my way,” he said.

“Call the lawyer first,” I told him.

“Yeah, that's probably the smartest thing to do. Okay, well, you hold tight, and I'll see you soon,” he said.

Hours after that call, I listened as, a thin-haired, red-faced woman
was holding court. She must've been an attorney or worked in the legal field. She seemed to know her stuff.

“So, before you see a judge, you'll be seen by Pretrial Services for an interview,” the jailhouse lawyer said.

“I need to see a judge so I can get the hell up outta here,” a woman seated in the corner said. “I ain't got no time for no pretrial nothing!”

“You want to meet with them, honey,” the speaker said in her direction. “You see, they determine your flight risk, and that's what determines what bond the judge will set for you.”

Speaker lawyer-lady looked at a woman to her left. “You—is this your first time?”

The meek woman nodded.

“Hmmm, okay, so, for you, a bondsman is probably the best and fastest way to go. Pretrial can take a lot longer.”

“Henderson, you've bonded out!” a deep voice yelled.

It took a moment for the words to settle in my brain. It wasn't until people glanced around in confusion that I realized it was me. I was the one who had bonded out. I scrambled to my feet and rushed to leave.

The stench of the holding cell really registered in my sinuses as I walked out of jail. The scent of stale paint mixed with the stench, but I didn't mind since I was finally on my way out.

“Oh, Zion!” I leaped into my husband's arms and hugged him so tight it felt like I was attached to him.

“It's gonna be okay,” another voice said.

Before he'd spoken, I never even realized he was there. Ted Dennison and my husband were business associates. We used him in emergencies, and he would refer us in the right direction at a later time. Until now, we never had the need for a criminal attorney.

“Ted. I'm sorry about this,” I said. My eyes shifted downward.

It didn't take long for me to become very self-conscious. I had been in the same clothes for more than twenty-four hours. My breath was probably a mixture of stale liquor, morning funk, and nothing else nice. I eased away from the two men and fell back a little while Ted spoke on my behalf.

“Okay, we've gotta move fast here to protect her right to drive. I will request a hearing within fifteen days. Let me handle the administrative side of this. You can sit tight and prepare for your arraignment.”

I opened the large envelope and sifted through my property as Ted and Zion talked. Once I confirmed that everything was there, I turned to the men and smiled.

“It's all there?” Ted asked.

Afraid to speak, I nodded.

“Well, that's everything then. Zion has already gotten your car out of impound,” he said. “Unless you guys have any more questions, I'd say it's time to get outta here,” Ted said.

“Thanks, man. I'm gonna get her home, and we can talk later,” Zion said.

Unsure of what to expect when we got in the car, I kept my mouth shut. How do you explain getting arrested and charged with a DWI? I assumed my husband was pissed, but in case he wasn't, I didn't want to give him the idea that he should be.

We had been on the road for a little more than twenty minutes when Zion finally spoke up. “What in the hell happened, Ivee?”

The sound of his palm as it slammed against the steering wheel made me jump. My heart flipped backwards. I wasn't sure if it was a rhetorical question. It was obvious what had happened. I was arrested for driving drunk. He'd had to bail me out of jail. There wasn't much else to the story.

“How many times have I asked you to call when you've had too much? I don't get it,” he said.

Zion spoke like he didn't need any input from me. He was pissed, and I was scared that if I said anything more, it would only make things worse.

I swallowed nervously.

Other
people got DWIs. People who drank too much, had drinking problems that they wouldn't acknowledge, and those who didn't know when to say when, got caught up like that. This was foreign to me.

“You don't have anything to say for yourself?” he finally asked.

That was when I turned and looked at him. “What do you want me to say? You had to come and bail me out of jail. It's not like I intentionally set out to drive while I was drunk!”

I felt smaller than an ant beneath the weight of his words. My mind began to wonder if it would've been better to stay in jail and let the judge throw the book at me.

PETA

I
didn't know how much longer I'd be able to take it. The tears threatened to push through, but I needed to hold it together. There was no one to catch me if I fell. The realization that my business was vulnerable was real to me, and I felt like there was nothing I could do. I couldn't imagine I'd still be stuck, but the insurance company was no closer to cutting a check, and I thought I was gonna die for certain. I didn't understand why they didn't realize that my business was about to go under as I waited on the bureaucracy of their “red tape.”

I slammed my phone down after yet another unproductive phone call with the claims adjuster. I felt like I wanted to cry. The other trucks were doing okay, and that helped to keep me afloat, but the lack of money from the others hurt. And I felt like I couldn't recover regardless of how hard I tried.

After I heard about what had happened to Ivee, I figured I needed to put things into perspective. I couldn't believe she had been arrested and had gone to jail. She wasn't there for a long time, but it made me think. If I ever went to jail, I'd be in a real bad place since it was just me and me alone. Kyle couldn't even return a damn phone call!

After I talked with Kendal and learned that Kyle had been sneaking to the house to talk to her, I was more than pissed. I didn't want to drag my daughter into the middle of our mess, but I felt like he
had set me up, and had gone out of his way to avoid facing me.

“Mom! You home?” my daughter yelled as she walked through the front door.

“I'm in the kitchen!”

She walked in, and I tried to calm myself. I had so many questions, but I didn't want to startle her. I also didn't want her to know how mad I was at Kyle.

“Sweetpea, you didn't you tell me your daddy moved,” I said casually.

She lit up like a light bulb. “Oh, Mom! You should see his new house! It's like a mansion!” Her eyes grew wide in excitement. She smiled like she was genuinely happy for him and his new home.

“Really? You hungry?” I asked.

I turned and finished my work on the salad.

“There's a swimming pool, a hot tub, and oooh, Mom, it's so cool,” Kendal gushed. “The stairs are the truth!”

There was no way I could face my daughter. I didn't want her to see how upset I had become. I couldn't believe Kyle had suckered me the way he did. She went on about her room at his house as I worked.

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Oh, Mom, he said he's gonna call you back,” she said. She didn't answer the question, but what she told me said quite a bit.

It made me turn around. A combination of fear and anger hit my heart like an electric jolt. But I had to be careful. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

“He said
what?”
I asked as I turned back to face her.

“Oh, yeah, Dad told me you tried to call him. He said he was real busy, but he's gonna call you back,” she said.

The ease with which Kendal delivered his lie had broken my heart. That told me he knew exactly what was going on. It was probably
best that I didn't see him. The anger I felt was like nothing I had ever experienced before. Kyle knew I'd suffer without his money. I wondered why he didn't realize that meant his daughter would suffer, too.

Over the years, I had worked so hard to get the boutiques up and running. I had made sacrifices. For months, I went without visits to the hair and nail shops. I only bought the essentials for Kendal. Kyle's money kept us afloat for a while when every dime I had was tied up in getting the trucks off the ground. I still wasn't at a point where I could establish a rainy-day fund.