Chardonnay: A Novel (5 page)

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Authors: Jacquilynn Martine

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“Go pick up something nice. What time is the meeting with your
friend?”

“In thirty minutes actually. I won’t have time to shop, Myron.
Just take me by my parent house and then we can get there and to the eng—”

“No. I want to take you to the meeting.” he said interrupting me
and discombobulating my plans.

“But Micah and I—”

“Micah?
A dude?”

“Yes, and he’s my friend from Lincoln, remember?”

Myron sat his head back on the head rest comfortably as if he wasn’t
parked illegally in a fire zone. He knew Micah wasn’t a threat with good
reasoning since he knew of him.

“Look, Micah and I wanted it to just be us since we haven—”

“You think I’m stupid. Chardonnay...you’re going to this party if
I have to drag you in my parent’s home—a’ight?” Myron reached over and opened
my door.

“See you in fifteen.” he said looking at me with a nonchalant
expression.

I got out the SUV and left the door wide open as I tracked my
scuffled heels to the glass door that read AlX on the front of it. When I
looked back he had already pulled off hurriedly.

I pulled out my cell phone and began walking towards some sky
scrapping office buildings across the street. I saw that there was a Sheraton
Suites and I knew I would need quick shelter in order to hide from Myron. I ran
up the steep and tiled steps around the front instead of taking the back doors
where Myron could easily find me. I was out of breath by the time I reached the
top but I kept running. I rushed to the revolving doors and slightly bumped a
well-dressed man who barely got out a,

“Pardon me,” before I was on my way towards the check in desk. A
short line that consisted of two people seemed like a ten foot long line to me.
I knew by now Myron was looking for me. Like I had assumed
,
my phone started ringing his incoming cell number. The couple I thought was two
separate acquaintances walked off thanking the front desk clerk and I thanked
God for letting me be next in line.

“Hello ma’am,” said a woman who looked my age. She looked up at me
from her computer and took a double take on my face. I wasn’t sure exactly how
I looked but I knew physically I was worn.

“How may I help you today?”

“Yes I need a room.”

“What type?”

“A suite with a living room.”

“Okay,” she began typing.

“I have a room with a king bed and a separate living room that
also has a sofa bed. It’s $219.00.”

My phone began ringing again.

“I’ll take it.” I said without thinking of the charges. She began
typing some more then asked,

“Your name?”

I had to think
quick
. I didn’t want to
make it easy to be found so I said,

“Uniquah Peppendecker.”

The Black girl looked at me like I was crazy. I studied her back
and said,

“Look, I can show you my actual I.D. But I can also put this under
whatever names I choose.” I went looking for my I.D. and couldn’t find it.

She waved her hand at me and said,

“Your total is $254.16.”

“What? I thought it—”

“Tax honey.”

“Oh,” I pulled out the crumpled three hundred dollar bills Myron
had given me and threw the three balls on the counter. She gave me my room
number, access card, and receipt. I walked quickly to the elevators and damn if
I wasn’t on time. Once I reached them I sighed and turned to see Myron walking
through the revolving doors on a rampage looking in all directions. I prayed
the damned elevator would come in time before he saw me in the cubical hall of
the four elevators. When it clicked I waited for it to open. As soon as it did
I jumped on. A few seconds later I heard a man’s voice hollering for me to hold
the elevator and I knew it was him. I pushed the close door button nearly a
million times in sheer panic, but I was too late. A hand caught the door and
pulled it back open.

I
recognized the shoes and trench coat he had on...it was the well-dressed man I
bumped into coming in the hotel. I pushed him out the way and beat the close
door button as I broke down crying. For a moment he stared at me like I was
insane. Then he looked at me as if I was a marveled ghost. When the door
finally shut and the only sound was my heaving and his breathing, he asked,

“Are you okay? I mean I know I stopped you from getting to your
room faster but,”

I laughed incredulously and looked at him...I couldn’t believe it.
Forget sexy. Close up he was gorgeous. Eyes of gray with an emerald ring around
it’s iris that couldn’t of been contacts, beautifully twisted locks, with a
thick, body building, five foot eleven frame. As wrong as the timing was he was
staring me down hard and I couldn’t help but look back and feel a familiarity.
A sense of warmth and security.

“Um, no, no.
I
just...nothing.”
I said moving the fallen hairs out my face.

“And you dropped this.” he said handing me my I.D.

“Thank you.” I said taking it.

He chuckled,

“Uniquah, huh?
Although you do have a very unique
and different name—you look nothing like a Uniquah, if you don’t mind me
saying, Ms. Houston.”

The elevator stopped on my floor and I didn’t respond to him, just
smirked and got off. He stepped in the threshold of the elevator and watched me
to my door never speaking one word as I tried to put the access key in the
door. My nerves got the best of me as he watched. After giving up I put my hands
to my face and broke down again. He got off completely and said, “You need
help?”

I nodded my head and handed it to him. He got it on the first try.
I didn’t bother getting it back from him and walked on in my room. I was
clustered around luxury and none of it meant anything to me. He stood at the
door not sure what do. I leaned on the dining room table and heard him say,

“You were running from that flashy jock, weren’t you?”

I looked at him and said,

“Flashy jock?”

He smirked and said,

“You didn’t answer my question.”

I nodded my head up and down.

My cell phone began to ring. It was Myron.
 
I looked over at the stranger standing in my
room and said,

“Thank you for helping me...um,” I wavered my hand in suggestion
to the fact I didn’t know his name. He dropped his head then looked up out the
corner of his sorrowful eyes whispering,

“Jase.”

I nodded my head and smiled,

“Well,
Jase
, thank you.”

He stared at me for a second, opened his mouth in an attempt to
say something only to bite down on his lip. I looked at the door and he did as
well.

“Well it was my pleasure. I have to be going...prior arrangements.”
he said.

I nodded my head as he tilted his head back, slowly stepping back
wards toward the door. I walked to the separate guest room to take the battery
off my phone. I only looked back when I heard my door close. He was gone.

5

In
Too Deep

Steam rose
from the whirlpool garden tub as I undressed out my ruined clothing. My cell
had been ringing constantly. I slowly sunk into the
luke
warm water careful not to bother the irritation between my legs, to no avail. I
sat my head back and closed my eyes as tears fell down the corners of them,
melting the bubbles on my chest.
 
The
tears weren’t of tears that had been caused by Myron, but of the way this would
outcast me. I would be the blame for our failed engagement—not him, and that
infuriated me. I picked up my pink rhinestone encrusted Channel covered cell
phone and called my voice mail. I had fifty new messages from various people,
all who of which, were either invited to the engagement party or still standing
in the formal dining room of Myron’s parents’ home waiting on me to show up.
One of the few messages I took time to listen to was from Myron’s mother. She
was the number one person I hated to disappoint.

“Chardonnay, baby, I know you might be scared and this is
happening too fast for you...call me and let me know you’re okay, I’m worried
about you, honey.”
the strain in her voice told me she was truly concerned. I listened
to Myron’s twenty calls, all of them the same, him threatening me or either
begging me into coming to the party. In one of the calls he was telling me he
was back at his parent’s house and getting dressed as he was leaving the
message. I clipped the phone down after I heard my mother’s irate voice come in
on the next message, yet I did hear,
“You little bit—”
before I did so.
Manifestly, Myron had gotten her sympathy.

That night
I went to bed alone and with my sorrows, that it seemed, no else understood.
And then I thought, here I am and here is where I will now stand on my own two
feet. No one else would carry me.
I rolled out the
caress of the prima cotton sheets and slid my feet across the floor to the
hotel phone to dial a number I was dreading to do so. Although I didn’t want to
speak with them, I felt I owed my parents the decency of knowing I was in town
from college and oh...that I wasn’t marrying Myron. On the first half of a
ring, my mother picked up saying,

“Chardonnay?!
Is this you?”

“Yeah, ma.
I’m oka—”

“Where in the world have you been? And what do you call yourself
standing that man up like that for? He is so worried about you and thought that
someone may have kidnapped you and done God knows what.”

What my mother failed to realize was that it didn’t take a
complete stranger to do God knows what to you like Myron had done to me. I
tried to permit my ear to continue listening to her ostracized tone.

“Well, I’m okay, thanks for asking.” I offered sarcastically.

“The police are out looking for you; you need to get home now.
Where are you, I’ll have a driver out to pick you up.”

I waved the thought away of being chauffeured around, I had been
given that treatment my whole life.

“No ma. I won’t be coming by the house today, I have to meet with
a
 
frie
—”

“To hell with your little slut of friends!
This is a
family issue and we will deal with it now! Or you
will
be sorry!” she
said and left a dead tone at the other end. I placed the phone back on its
hook. This morning I couldn’t even be down, I was already low. I called Zasmyth
and told her where I was and that I wanted to meet with Micah. After getting
off the phone with her I made another call to Slim. When he picked up the phone
I could hear white noise in the back ground.

“Where you been at? Folks lookin’ for you.” he said through brisk
breaths.

“Slim, I know that. Where are you...I need you—”

“The gym.
You told my best friend I fucked you...why?”

“Oh so now It’s me against you and him. I thought this is what you
wanted?”

He took long drought breaths then chuckled,

“Too late don’t you think? Chardonnay—I got business and when you
interfere with how I do things you mess up things—a’ight. Now you know I’m
there for you no matter what...but.”

“But what—now
you playing
mind games.”

“I ain’t the one puttin’ things on as they ain’t—
good girl
.”

I huffed and looked at my cell.

“What’s up with you? Why you actin’ like this?”

“I’m actin’ like this because when your dude ain’t around, you act
like you lovin’ a nigga...tell me this Chardonnay, how come when I told you I
loved you, you didn’t say it back. That’s messed up with you being the first
girl I’ve ever loved.”

“Slim...please not now. I just need you, please. He raped me.” I
whimpered out.

I could hear quick movement in the background after saying those
words and then I heard something click back. For a second I forgot who I was
talking to. Slim ran the streets and I knew that. What I didn’t know was how
hard he was
running
them.

“I’m on my way.
Where you at?”

“Slim don’t do anything, alright.”

“Just tell me where you are. If I know Myron like I think I know
him and he done went that fuckin far already—he’ll try some other shit.”

“I’m at the Sheraton Suites on the Country Club Plaza.”

“Where’s that?”

I sighed and forgot most urban guys said The Plaza.

“The Plaza.
Under the alias Uniquah
Peppendecker.”

“What the fuc—”

“Don’t ask.”

“A’ight. Stay put.”

When he got
there I only had on a plain white—T that I had room service bring up. Slim sat
me down on the bed rubbing my thigh as I shook and said,

“I hate him.”

Slim looked at me as if he understood.

“I know you do. But why try to get him back like this?”

“I’m just telling him the truth.”

“No...
the
truth is you and I never had
sex.”

 
I looked at him.

“What?”

“Well, we tried but...we didn’t get far.”

“Slim this is crazy! How come I remember having sex with you
and...”

“The room of guys?” he said as he smirked finishing his sentence.

“So I wasn’t tripping.” I said as I covered my face.

“Look, we all just...had a little too much fun.” He said looking
from me.

“We...how did this all happen?”

“We got drunk,” he chuckled.

“How else does some shit go down like
that.
It obviously wasn’t planned. Look, what you experienced was real but you just
stripped, baby...that’s all.”

“STRIPPED?!”

I jumped up and looked at Slim in awe. He stood up and held his
arms out.

“I protected you, don’t worry. But when you came to me about your
financial situation...”

And then I knew he was telling the truth. I held my arms around my
shoulders and cried out,

“Oh my god...I told him we messed around and it didn’t even
happen.”

“He
don’t
have to know everything,
Chardonnay.” Slim said wrapping his arms around me.

I pushed him away from me sobbing to the floor. Slim pulled me up
and rocked me in his arms, “It’s gonna be
koo
,
shawty...shush all that noise.
You a’ight.
Do you
think you need to go to the hospital?”

“I don’t want to go near a hospital. I’m going to just check out
here and go over to P.F. Chang’s to meet Micah.”

He nodded his head as if he understood.

When we
arrived there, not even three minutes away from the Sheraton Suites, Micah was
already settled at a table, iPod glued to ear, rambling on to someone on his
cell on the other about his dry cleaning and how they pressed his suit the
wrong way. The second he saw me with Slim in tow he clipped his phone down and
stood to his feet.

“Chardonnay, darling!”

I gave a weak smile and Micah’s face turned concerned.

“Hey Micah.”

He was my boy gal, as I called him, Micah Waterford. Even though
he was in his junior year of college, the man had his own management company
and was helping me get an internship since he knew a few
who’s
who’s
in the media communications and literary industry. As fine as he
was, with his caramel golden skin, light brown, almond shaped eyes, perfectly
cut close Ludacris fade, and dimples so deep you could lose your train of
thought in them, he was
so
gay.

“Hey Hon!
Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I waved and looked up at Slim who was watching every move
of our conversation and the turn of events happening around us. Micah looked at
him and pointed asking,

“Is he going to be here the whole time as well, sugar doll,
because I can’t have every—”

“No, he won’t. He’s checking out the scene for me.”

Micah was concerned about people knowing his celebrity in Kansas
City. He valued his friendships too much to be used which showed what type of
friends he had.
Except me.

“Well I talked with a rep with Vogue. They loved you!”

I tried to be enthusiastic about the news but yesterday’s events
still had my full attention. I looked up at Slim giving him the assuring look
that I would be okay.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yes. I’ll be having Zasmyth pick me up.”

Slim didn’t protest on that but I knew he wanted to make an effort
to do so. He kissed me on the cheek as Micah watched and then slowly walked out
the restaurant, taking glances at me as he did so. I turned to face Micah and
knew I would have to answer questions.

“Umm, Chardonnay that doesn’t look like the Fiancé I saw in your
pictures...Lord knows I can’t forget his face, although that boy toy there was
cute...I’m sure that’s all he is to you, right.”

It amused
me
how well Micah knew me
better than my girls did at times, but I answered, “No...He’s not my boy toy,
and what about Vogue...damn I need this.”

“With your experience they feel as if they could work with you
but...”

“But what?”

“They say you don’t have much experience with fashion.”

Micah looked over my dingy clothes from yesterday and said,

“And by the way you look today you flunked your wardrobe stylist
test. Chile—what’s going on with you, you always look
fly
!”

“Whatever, I know a lot about fashion.” I said stuffing my tweed
jacket into my huge purple Chanel bag.

“Oh honey no, you smashing the cashmere! You know fashion my ass!”
said Micah snatching my jacket from me and rubbing it gently with his manicured
nails.

“I don’t need—”

“Chile, you gonna have to kiss Andre Leon Tally’s beautiful behind
to work for Vogue!”

“Who’s that?!”

“Oh my, we have a lot of work to do.” Micah said taking a last sip
of his Chai tea and then
pulling
 
my
arm up so we could go.

“What are you doing?” I asked unaware of where he was taking me.

“To get you out these clothes because you look like a distressed
mess!” he said hauling me off doing his signature masculine, yet feminine
runway walk.

After Micah
took me shopping, out to eat, and more shopping until the mall closed, I told
him to drop me off at home. I dreaded going but I knew I had to. I told Zasmyth
that I would meet up with her later. When I asked her if she’d talked to Konnie
since I hadn’t heard from her after pulling off with Myron, she said no. I
waved off to Micah as I got out his car and looked head on at the three leveled
Mediterranean style home my father drew out and built with constructive and
diligent Mexicans a little after I was born. My father believed in making jobs
for everyone, yet he didn’t bypass figurative ways to save a dollar. I took the
side entrance door that was always unlocked, leading from the garage and shut
the door silently. My stomach grumbled just as I neared the refrigerator and I
opened it, illuminating the chef’s kitchen my mother had designed custom to her
taste. I took out a carton of milk, a box of cream cheese Danishes, and some of
my father’s baked basil chicken and placed it all on the
island,
that
stood in the middle of the Italian tiled green and yellow floor. I
poured the cold milk into a wide coffee mug and snatched a paper napkin off the
roll sitting right to the garden sink. I placed the napkin on the revolving
glass in the microwave after opening it and set the mug on top of it. Once the
timer was set, I stepped back and jumped up on the stool to the island table.
This was possibly the first time I had been alone without any interruptions in
three months. I took deep breaths and closed my eyes...

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