Free All About Eva by Deidre Berry Page A

dark circles underneath. My eyebrows needed to be waxed, my makeup had melted, and a huge, stress-induced pimple had popped up all of a sudden on the tip of my chin, causing me to resemble the Wicked Witch of the West. I leaned forward to examine the zit, which was so hard that it hurt.
    Yeah, like powder is going to help that look any better right now.
    Disgusted, I snapped the mirror closed, just as Tameka slammed on the brakes so hard that we both would have sailed through the windshield if we weren’t wearing our seat belts.
    Riding with Tameka was always an adventure because, quite frankly, she was the world’s worst driver. I gripped the overhead assistant handle for dear life as she swerved recklessly through congested rush-hour traffic. She raced through yellow and red lights, cut other drivers off, and switched lanes without using her signals
    â€œGirl, will you slow down?” I said. “Why are you driving like a bat outta hell, anyway?”
    â€œI’m late picking up the boys. I should have been there over an hour ago,” she said, gunning down the West Side Highway at a high rate of speed. I made the sign of the cross and said a silent prayer: Lord, please let me get home safe and in one piece. . . .
    When we were only a couple of blocks away from my building, I breathed a deep sigh of relief. Ah, home, sweet home .
    Even though I was angry with Donovan, the Funderburk was still my home, and I planned to stay there at the penthouse until we had a long talk about this mess he had somehow gotten himself in and made a definite decision about the future of our relationship. That was, if he decided to man-up and come back from wherever he was to face the music.
    I had no idea how I was going to be able to afford the monthly maintenance fees, which were close to thirteen thousand dollars a month, but what a joy it would be to finally get back to the serenity of my superdeluxe apartment and sleep in my own bed.
    Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Tameka kept sneaking peeks over at me as she drove.
    I sensed that she was keeping something serious from me. “What’s up, Tameka?” I asked.
    She gave me a solemn, closed-mouth smile, and then reached over and grabbed my hand.
    â€œNo, I prefer that you keep both hands on the wheel,” I said, placing her right hand back on the steering wheel. “Whatever it is, just say it. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen at this point?”
    Tameka sighed heavily, like whatever she was holding in was causing her a considerable amount of pain. Then she spilled her guts in one big blurt.
    â€œI’m not sure if you have a home to go back to. The feds raided the apartment while you were gone, and now word on the street is that Donovan’s mother has already sold the place.”
    Oh, so that’s the worst that can happen at this point.
    If what she was saying was true, I had officially fell down a rabbit hole, into an alternate universe.
    I closed my eyes and laid my head on the tan leather headrest. “Please tell me you’re joking. . . .” I pleaded. I opened my eyes and looked over at Tameka, who shook her head sadly, letting the silence speak for itself.
    With everything that I’d had to process in the last ten hours, the status of things at the penthouse honestly had not even crossed my mind until Tameka brought it up. Was it really possible that I was now homeless, along with everything else I had to deal with? Tameka pulled up in front of the Funderburk, and I was out of the truck and in the lobby before she’d even come to a complete stop.
    â€œMs. Cantrell, can I speak to you for a moment?” It was Clarence the doorman, with his nosy, backbiting ass. He was a short, pudgy black man in his late fifties, and had been a fixture in the building since long before I moved in. I cut my eyes at the sight of him. It was rude, but it was a knee-jerk reaction that I couldn’t help at that