Sighing, Precious closed her eyes, praying what she and her mother were planning would come off without a hitch. They were going to ruin an innocent girl’s life to save her marriage. And for Precious, being Mrs. Dennis Boone meanteverything, because not only did she not believe in divorce, she knew that as a divorcée she would no longer be welcomed into the elite social circle of prominent Negroes, a prestigious group who had become as essential to her as breathing. She’d become an extension of her husband, and she had no intention of losing that much-coveted status.
Justine Russell couldn’t believe what she was being accused of. She’d never stolen anything in her life, and she definitely wouldn’t take anything from her employers. But there it was, a delicate gold and ruby bracelet hidden under several full slips in the drawer with her other underwear.
The tears filling her eyes overflowed and streamed down her face. “I swear to you I didn’t take it,” she pleaded. She looked at Precious, then Lillian, but both women appeared unmoved by her tears.
Precious crossed her arms under her breasts over an off-white silk blouse. “You claim you didn’t take it, so how did it get into your drawer? I’m certain it didn’t grow legs and walk from my jewelry box into your bedroom.”
Justine swiped at her tears with her fingertips. “I don’t know,” she said, as Lillian shared a look with her daughter.
“Maybe we should call the police and have them question her,” the older woman said.
Shaking uncontrollably, Justine feared her knees would give way and she’d collapse to the floor. “Please, don’t.” She didn’t want to get arrested for something she hadn’t done, and ruin her chances of graduating high school and going on to college. “I’ll do anything you want, but please don’t call the police,” she continued with her pleas.
“Anything?” Precious asked, her voice deceptively soft.
Justine nodded. “Yes. Anything. Just say it, and I will do it.”
“What I’m going to say to you will go no further than this room. And that means you can’t even tell your grandmother, or you’re going to jail for robbery.”
Clasping her hands together in a prayerful gesture, Justinenodded again. “Okay. I promise I won’t say anything to anyone.”
“I want you to sleep with my husband.”
Justine slowly blinked, wondering if she was hearing what she’d just heard. “You want me to sleep with your husband? Why?”
“So he can get you pregnant, that’s why,” Lillian spat out.
“I don’t want a baby. Besides, I’m still a virgin.”
“That’s even better,” Lillian countered. “Once you’re pregnant, we’ll know it’s not some other man’s brat. After you give birth, we’ll take the baby and then we will make certain you will be compensated.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. These crazy women want me to sleep with a man, get pregnant, then give them my child.
Justine closed her eyes as she attempted to weigh what her employer’s wife and mother had proposed against being arrested and possibly going to prison. The Boones certainly had enough money and clout to have her put away for a very long time.
Justine was only seventeen, and she had her whole life ahead of her; it was obvious Precious Boone was unable to give her husband a baby—otherwise, she wouldn’t have come up with a crazy scheme to blackmail her into standing in for her.
And she hadn’t lied about being a virgin. She didn’t even have a boyfriend, because she didn’t want to end up like her mother, who’d slept with a man and, upon discovering she was pregnant, he admitted he couldn’t marry her, because he was already married. Thankfully her grandmother had stepped in to help raise her, and now that she was faced with a dilemma not of her own choosing, she wasn’t able to confide in her.
Now it seemed as if history were repeating itself, because she was going to sleep with a married man; the only difference was that she didn’t have to raise the child as an unwedmother. A sense of strength came to Justine she hadn’t known she possessed. “You talk about compensating me. What can I expect?”
Precious exhaled an audible sigh, seemingly relieved that Justine was going to go along with their scheme. “Once you know for certain that you’re carrying Dennis Boone’s baby, you’ll be set up in a rent-free apartment in Manhattan. You will be given enough money to buy food, clothes, and whatever incidentals you’ll need. A midwife will check on you every month, and she’ll be there when you go into labor. She’ll make arrangements for you to be taken to a hospital, where you will deliver the baby. And if anyone asks what happened to the child, you will tell them it was born a stillbirth. You will continue to live in the apartment rent-free for another year. During that time, you’ll need to get a job that will pay you enough to buy food and other living expenses. You are never to tell anyone about the baby. Not only will we deny it, but I’ll make certain you’ll be locked away in a hospital for the mentally insane.”
“There’s no need to threaten me,” Justine said, exhibiting a modicum of courage for the first time.
“And there’s no need for you to get snippy,” Lillian said, frowning.
At this point, Justine was beyond being intimidated. She knew she had to go along with the two scheming women, or they would ruin her life, rationalizing she wouldn’t be the first woman to have a baby and then give it up for adoption. Even though she would give up her baby, she had no intention of giving up her dream of becoming a schoolteacher.
“I’m not snippy, Mrs. Crawford. I know what you want, and I’m willing to do it, but I need you to answer one question for me.”
“What is it?” Lillian asked with a scowl on her face.
“What do I tell my grandmother once she finds out that I’m moving out?”
Lillian’s thinly plucked eyebrows lifted. “You don’t have to tell her anything. Mrs. Boone will inform your grandmother that she’s sending you to a secretarial school so you can learn enough office skills when it comes time for you to look for a job.”
“A secretarial school is not college,” Justine countered.
