Hot Girlz: Hot Boyz Sequel (4 page)

 Today, having traded in his long dreads for a low,
Mohawk haircut, former football player-slash-retired playboy Torino sat on the
gray loveseat in the den next to Sequoia. They’d just finished playing
Scrabble
on their laptop in their Spanish-style, three-bedroom, lower Ladera home on
Halm Avenue just around the corner from Mason and Mercedes’s old house. It had
Brazilian hardwood cabinets, coffered ceilings, and a lap pool with a lanai. It
was built in 1929 and was worth more than nine-hundred-thousand dollars when he
bought it in 2005, but now it was only worth about seven hundred-fifty, which
was the norm considering the economic slump. But forty-one year-old Torino was
doing very well for himself. After all of his years of financial setbacks, he
now had amassed a good amount of savings.

Most of the money he made was from managing the rapper,
Lady Di, who he discovered in the club years ago. But last year she signed with
Epic records, got a new manager, and moved on. Torino swore he would focus his
attention on real estate, and shift more of his efforts into the club he bought
from Mason and his business partner Cicely, who also turned out to be their
half sister.

Last year, Torino, who was named after his father’s 1975
blue Ford Torino, opened a new club in El Segundo called Wilson’s. Both clubs
catered to everyone from the occasional nightclub person, to the actors,
athletes, and musicians of the world. He also owned second house on Shenandoah
that he rented out for five-thousand per month.

It was a Friday night.

A smooth Hiroshima CD played.

Sturdy, curvy Sequoia, wearing only an oversized white
tee shirt, just the way her husband liked it, spoke like she had just won a
round of Jeopardy on television. “I beat you again. Face it; I’m just smarter
than you.” She bounced up and down as she sat on the sofa in their den, shaking
her brown, straight hair back and forth.

“Why is it that you can come up with words no one’s ever
heard of?” he asked, sitting right next to her, dressed for work in a blue
suit.

“Sore loser.” Her pear-shaped solitaire sparkled as she
waved him away with her hand. “Poof, be gone.”

“Cheater.”

“Oh, so I’m making the game give me points? I’m in
cahoots with the Scrabble game makers? Torino, how would anyone cheat on a
computer version of Scrabble?”

“I don’t put anything past anyone who comes up with the
word gelation.”

“The process of gelling, Torino. I told you.”

“That’s bogus.”

“You’re a trip.”

“I’ll get you next time. You and that damn computer.”

“Yeah right.” She popped her lips.

He told her, “You went away to Vegas with Mercedes and
ain’t been the same since.”

“Whatever.”

“Yeah, you’re trippin’ all right. Right TJ?” TJ was
Torino Jr.’s nickname.

“Yes, Daddy,” TJ said, with his dark brown skin, hair in
a tightly curled Afro. He sat on the floor playing with his racecar set, making
vroom, vroom
sounds.

Sequoia placed the laptop on the
coffee table and sat back, watching her son. “I did miss you guys while we were
gone.” She patted Torino along his thigh.

He kept looking at her thigh. “I never
asked you, but how’d the fashion show go, anyway?”

“Great. You know Mercedes is an expert
at that. She can do all that in her sleep.”

“What else did you guys do? Gamble and
hit the nightclubs?”

“We did. We went out. But it was
nothing like Foreplay or Wilson’s.”

“Good answer.” He scooted forward
after noticing the clock and then stood. “Hey, I’m gonna see you later tonight.
I’ve gotta hold down the fort at the club.”

“Okay. I’ll see you later.”

“I might even cut out early.” He
grabbed his keys and wallet from the end table and then patted TJ on his head.
“Goodbye, TJ.”

“Bye, Daddy.”

“You be good. Listen to Mommy.”

“I will.”

“He’s always good,” Sequoia said,
curling her legs under her, getting comfortable.

“See you later.” Torino eyed her down,
looking at her legs. “That’s some sexy shit right there.” He leaned into her
and gave her a peck on the lips.

She returned it with tongue until she
heard, “Daddy. Leave Mommy alone.” She pulled back laughing. “Yeah, Daddy.”

“It’s a conspiracy. My own son is
blockin’ me.”

“You just bring it on back home so we
can continue,” she said just as her cell rang from the sofa table.

He headed to the door and blew a kiss,
exiting as she grabbed her phone.

She said, “Hey, Mercedes. What’s up?”

“Hey there, not much. You?”

“Torino just left. He’s headed to
work.”

“Okay. I thought he might leave around
this time.”

“Where’s Mason?”

“He’s in the bedroom watching TV,
taking a break from his book. He’ll get up again and go back in the office.”

“I still can’t get over how much he’s
home now. He was never home before.”

“That’s what retirement will do for
you.”

“I guess so. You talk to Claude and
Venus lately?”

“I stopped by the other night. Why?”

“Why? Why do you ask why? Just the
fact that you asked why, means you must tell me why you asked why. What is it
that you’re trying to see if I know first by asking why?”

“Oh, no. You are so wrong.”

“Please. I know you.”

“Not.”

“Yeah, well, whatever. You being all
secretive and stuff. Anyway, from what Torino tells me, Claude’s still trying
to get Venus to quit working. And while I can’t say I’ve always been a fan of
Venus, he needs to lighten up. She’s got a dream job.”

“She does. But some women wish they
had an old-fashioned man with those types of rules. A man who doesn’t want you
to work? Please.”

“Claude isn’t old fashioned. He’s
controlling, and you know it.”

“That he is. But she knows what she’s
got. It’s working.”

“Is it? I mean, maybe something might
be up over there between the two of them. So, what’s up over there, huh?”

“Sequoia, stop fishing.”

“You stop tripping.”

“I’m not.”

“Are, too. Forget you. Listen, I know
what I wanted to tell you. I think I’m going to spend some time with Mattie
tomorrow, maybe around noon, if that’s okay.”

“Sequoia, you don’t have to ask. You
come by anytime. If we’re gone, Lucinda will be here with her.”

“Good.” Sequoia paused. “Girl, you
know I’m still thinking about Vegas.”

“Really?”

“Did Mason ask for details?”

“No. He knows it was work. No biggie.”

“I’m talking about him asking you if
we did anything else.”

Mercedes sounded like she knew her man
for sure. “No. Mason doesn’t care about stuff like that.”

“How do you know?”

“He trusts me.”

“Well, Torino asked me.”

“About me?”

“No. About us. About the show and the
trip. I told him we went out for a minute.”

“You did?”

“Yeah.”

“Why’d you tell him that?”

“Why not. I thought you said Mason
doesn’t care.”

“What else did you tell him?”

“That you had a grind-fest with a
boy-toy.”

“No I didn’t. That’s not even funny.”

“Oh, excuse me. It wasn’t a
grind-fest. It was straight up sex on the dance floor.”

“Sequoia. You know it was not that
deep. It was just dancing.”

“Okay. But I didn’t go into all that.
That’s for you to tell. I’m just saying, it’s not like you two went any further
afterwards, right?”

“Of course not. When would I have had
time to go further than that?”

“Beats me.”

Suddenly, TJ asked, “Mommy, will you
play with me?” sounding tired, actually yawning.

“Now how are you going to play when
you’re about dozing off, TJ?”

“I’m not tired.”

“Oh, Lord. A child’s famous last words
before they conk out. Listen, girl. I’ve gotta go put this boy to bed. I’ll
talk to you later. Maybe I’ll see you while I’m over there tomorrow.”

“Okay. Talk to ya. And watch yourself,
with your big mouth.”

“Wow, if that ain’t the pot calling
the kettle black? You’re Wilson family central.”

~~

The clock struck three in the morning
when Sequoia heard Torino walk in their master bedroom and then head to the
bathroom.

There was an amber light shining next
to Torino’s side of the bed. The room smelled like her angel-food body oil.

Torino took off his clothes, all but
his boxers, and before Sequoia could even turn over to look his way, he came
back out. He headed to their walnut-framed bed and got under the covers,
planting a kiss on her nose.

She looked over at the digital clock.
“Wow. That was a long night.”

“It was.”

She turned her body toward him. “Was
it crowded?”

“Yes. Way too many folks.”

“Too many?” She ran her fingers
through her hair. “Since when is that a bad thing?”

“Let’s just say one too many.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, giving
him a look. She sat up and scooted herself all the way back against the
headboard.

“It was Colette. Colette came in
tonight with a couple of her friends.”

Sequoia frowned instantly. “I thought
you’d asked the bouncers not to let her back in after all the crap she pulled
years ago.”

“I did. But that was a long time ago.
I’ve got new guys, and a new cashier. I’d forgotten about it, actually. I just
never thought she’d have the nerve to come back in there.”

Sequoia began massaging her temples.
“Anyway, I’m not surprised.” Her voice grew deeper. “Did she at least behave,
Torino?”

“In a way.”

“What does that mean?”

“Colette wants child support.”

Her eyes bugged. “Child support? She
wants you to pay child support for Kyle’s son?”

“She’s still insisting I’m that boy’s
father.”

“Oh, please. I thought after she
showed up in Mason’s backyard threatening to stab herself in the stomach when
she was pregnant, she’d go away and live her tripped out, wacky life and focus
on her so-called modeling career. Now, all of a sudden out of the blue she
wants child support. That’s just crazy.”

“Honestly, I think they’re having
problems. For her to come up with this now, she’s obviously suddenly worried
about money. And, she said she wants something else.”

“What?” She braced herself.

“She wants to give Kyle Jr. the Wilson
name.”

Sequoia paused and took a moment to
breath. She looked at Torino like he was just as crazy as his ex. “Kyle Jr.,
would be a Wilson.” She shook her head. “I’ve heard it all now.” She fidgeted
with her wedding ring, twisting is back and forth while looking into nowhere.

“Makes no sense to me, either.” He sat
up.

“Torino, I’ve never brought this up
before, but I’m going to tell you something. Venus and Mercedes talked to me
about the fact that Kyle Jr. has your eyes, your face and your skin tone. Not
Kyle’s, but yours. And Colette, well she looks like a busted Vanessa Williams.
That child looks just like you. Actually, he looks just like TJ.”

Torino simply said, “I know.”

She titled her head. “You know?”

“I’ve thought about it more and more
the older he gets. I saw him and Kyle at Starbucks last month.”

“Oh you did? And you stood there
watching him with a kid who could be your own son? And then you go back and
live your life like that’s just gonna go away.” She scooted over to face him,
turning her torso his way. “Don’t you think it’s kinda fucked up that Kyle’s
playing house without really knowing it?”

“First of all, like I’ve told you, I
don’t know how I could be the father. I just can’t be. Either Kyle’s the father
and the light skin, light eyes skipped a generation, or someone else is the
father. But I am not. And second of all, I could not care less about Kyle.”

“And why is that, Torino? Because he
slept with Colette on the night you two argued after the club? Right before you
and I hooked up? Have you ever gotten over that mess?”

“I left Kyle in charge of the VIP
passes for the club and he was charging people cash money before they ever hit
the door. Cash just for adding their names to the VIP comp list. Kyle’s a
thief. And yes, I’m over that.”

“Oh, so you still despise him for only
that reason and nothing else?”