Page 52 of A Mighty Love

Adrienne didn’t know how to answer such a sad assertion, so she told him about her years as a theater major at Hunter College, about the years of job-hopping from one corporation to another while trying to become a singer, and about meeting Mel. “I’m afraid my life doesn’t match yours for drama,” she ended.

Lloyd cleared his throat. “I’m glad to hear it, Adrienne. I always hoped that you were happy.” He smiled at her.

“I’m okay,” Adrienne said dryly, “but you should be over the moon. I’m dying to know how you did it,” she said, smiling. “So tell me the rags-to-riches story that will be in bookstores everywhere soon.”

He watched her coolly as he chewed his food precisely. Now, that is the LaMar Jenkins I remember, Adrienne thought. Meticulous in every detail. She waited until he’d chewed every bit in his mouth; then he reached for his wine.

“It’s not a lot to tell,” he began. “I think our stories are pretty much the same—I mean, in terms of our determination to live at least a few of our dreams. When I finally got out of that awful juvenile center, I was determined to get to college, by any means. I didn’t have any money, and because of what my home situation was like, I didn’t work closely with the guidance counselors during my senior year to narrow down some of those scholarships and select the school that would be best for me—and my sisters. I’d always assumed that the girls and I would be together, and I didn’t want to travel too far away from them, no matter how much money they offered me, but when they separated us, all those early plans went out the window.” He paused, taking another sip. Adrienne listened intently.

“I took a few temp jobs at first, just to get on my feet, but I knew where I needed to be was in college. I didn’t even have enough to go to a two-year state college associate degree program, so I did what most young brothers do, especially when they don’t see many other real prospects. I enlisted myself into the armed forces, namely, the Air Force.”

“The Air Force?” Adrienne was shaking her head in disbelief. “LaMar—I’m sorry, Lloyd, you mean you actually joined the army?”

“The Air Force.”

“Air Force, Army, Navy, Marines, you know what I mean. I don’t believe it.”

“Why?” he asked, bristling up a bit. “You don’t think ole Pimple Jenkins had it in him?”

Adrienne recoiled at the taunt that had caused her old friend and tutor so much grief. But as she looked at him now from across the elegant table, she knew that Lloyd Cooper was as far from a Pimple Jenkins as anyone could be.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Lloyd—”

“Oh, don’t be sorry for me,” he said, cutting her off. “I doubt any of the guys I grew up with are making more than forty K a year, if that. They’d be lucky to make even a fraction of what PW&E is paying me.”

With my meager thirty K, I wonder what Lloyd thinks of me, Adrienne thought. Surely he knew she wasn’t pulling down the big bucks from the secretarial bull pen.

“But the rest of my tale isn’t all that riveting. I served my duty in the Air Force, acquired some great skills, had the government pay for my college education, graduated with double degrees in marketing and business management, enrolled in Harvard’s MBA program, and worked my way up the corporate ladder; and today, well, I’m fortunate enough to have you share your beautiful company with me.”

He went back to eating, and after a minute Adrienne excused herself and sought refuge in the ladies’ room. After relieving herself, she repaired her lipstick and then leaned forward against the

sink to stare into the mirror. What was she doing? He knew she was married, and yet he never missed an opportunity to show her just how much more than friends he wanted to be. Would Lloyd expect her to sleep with him in return for his help? Was he really a sellout, as Mallory Guest apparently suspected? There were no answers in the mirror, so she went back out into the dining room.

Lloyd’s eyes lit up as she approached the table. He stood up and pulled her chair out for her. Adrienne liked that he behaved as a gentleman. She gave him a smile. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He sat back down. “Now, tell me how your mom and dad are getting along. They were wonderful to me during senior year. I’d love to see them also.”

Adrienne soon had Lloyd cracking up as she told him all about her parents’ new life down in the tiny town of Dietsville, Alabama.

Lloyd ordered another bottle of wine. And then another. The evening passed by so swiftly that they were both half drunk and startled when the waiter came over and said that the restaurant would be closing in a half hour.

Lloyd paid the bill, and as they walked through the parking lot toward the company car, he said, “I’m going to get you out of the secretarial pool as soon as Mallory signs that contract.”

Adrienne gave him a quick hug of gratitude.

Lloyd’s smile was blissful as he took a step backward slowly. For a minute Adrienne thought he might lean in and kiss her, but he backed up and straightened his tie. He started to say something and then changed his mind. To hide his feelings, he stuffed his hands deep into his pockets and walked quickly to the car with his head down. It was exactly what LaMar Jenkins used to do whenever he was overcome with emotion. Adrienne followed.

When Adrienne got home, her step was buoyant and her eyes were glowing. The magical quality of the evening’s events made her want sex. She practically danced into the bedroom, where Mel was under the covers watching a made-for-TV movie. “Where the hell have you been?” he demanded. “It’s almost midnight and I called your job. Nobody answered the phone.”

“Hello, my love,” she shouted breezily while tossing her coat and purse on the floor.

“Don’t be ‘hello lovin’ me,” he said, frowning at her. “Not when you waltzing in here at midnight like some trick in the street. I said, where you been?”

Adrienne just smiled and let out a blues wail, “Oh, you never get nothing by being an angel child. You better change your ways and get real wild . . . ” She began unbuttoning her blouse and kicking off her heels.

“Adrienne,” Mel said, confused. “Adrienne, what the hell are you doing? What’s gotten into you?”

“’Cause wild women don’t worry,” she sang, “wild women don’t have the blues . . . ” She shimmied out of her skirt, revealing a black garter belt and silky panty hose. “Wild women . . . ”

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