Live and Learn (10 page)

W
ell, well. What a sudden and totally unexpected turn of events. I arrived for work at my usual 8:45
A.M
. which gave me time to flip through the
New York Post
’s Page Six gossip section and sip on my cafe latte from Starbucks before the phone lines started ringing at exactly nine. I was already feeling good and looking good in this Moschino linen fit-and-flare dress I wore with a cardigan. The platinum bangle bracelet Winthrop gave me last night was the perfect accessory, and my infusion weave was tight.

So when Alyssa called me into her office around 9:30
A.M
. and informed me that she and her boyfriend of five years were going to Jamaica for a wedding/honeymoon trip and that I would be her replacement during the week she was off, I nearly fainted.

“Mr. Linx is out of town vacationing in the Hamptons, but he’ll return tomorrow evening for Bones’s new video shoot.”

I nodded, my face neutral and not showing my excitement. “I will not let you down, and congratulations, girl.”

As she began to go over my duties, I was busy thinking of the five fabulous outfits I would buy to wear next week…after I returned Winthrop’s bangle for cold, hard cash today.

“Dinner was delicious, Dani.” Winthrop moved from the kitchen to take a seat on my sofa after our dinner of pheasant stuffed with wild rice.

“Thanks.”

“Where’s your new bracelet?”

I looked over into his blue eyes. “You know I keep all my valuables in my security box downstairs,” I lied, moving across the room to the bar to refill my wineglass.

He placed his hand inside the pocket of his chinos, nodding with understanding. “That’s a good idea because I don’t trust that maintenance man. What’s his name?”

“Who? Mohammed?”

“Yeah, him.”

I moved to take my seat next to him on the sofa. “Why?” I asked, looking at him over the rim as I sipped my wine.

“Why what?” he asked, distracted as he set his briefcase on the coffee table and opened it.

“Why don’t you trust Mohammed?” I persisted. I didn’t even like the man, but I certainly didn’t think he was a thief.

Winthrop looked confused. “Where is this coming from? I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I would think as an attorney you would know better than to prejudge someone, that’s all, Winthrop.”

“You’re right and I’m sorry.”

Why was he apologizing to me?

He sat back and pulled my feet up onto his lap. “You look fabulous in that dress,” he said as he removed my shoes and began to massage my bare feet.

“Thank you.” He gave the best massages. I set my glass on the table and let my eyes close as I lay back on the sofa.

“You’re a very beautiful woman, Dani.”

I knew what was coming next.

“I’ll be glad for the day we can take our relationship to the next level.”

Nothing but sex was on
that
next level.

“But I respect your wishes.”

No, he had not gotten into my precious silk panties yet. I was running that prim-and-proper role on him. Men like Winthrop loved good girls.

Not that I was not physically attracted to him. He was a fine white boy, and my awareness of his tall, dark good looks had first drawn my eye and led me to accept that first date.

We had fun together. We had chemistry between us. He was sweet and romantic. He showed me things I had only dreamed about or seen on television. Still, I could not have sex with him. As much as I told myself that I did not care that Winthrop was white, I knew that was not true. Why else did I have my goodies on lock?

I did know that eventually he would insist on that next level.

“I want to make love to you, Dani,” he said softly, shifting his position on the couch. His hands worked up my legs underneath my dress to slide my panties down over my hips and down my legs. He spread my legs. “For now this will have to suffice.”

The first feel of his lips on my pussy was cool, but as he sought out the bud with his eager tongue, I felt myself respond to his licks. I even clutched his silky hair as I arched my hips for more. He used his finger to open my lips and expose my clit. I began to break out in a sweat, my moans echoing his own as he sucked me so deeply that his cheeks caved in.

“Your pussy is so hot and sweet, Dani.”

I could have done without his words because they reminded me that it was him and not Sahad licking away like a cat to milk. My body convulsed with the first wave of a climax, and I lay back as my come filled his mouth, enjoying each delicious moment of it.

“Aah,” I sighed as heat shot through my pussy just as he stiffened his tongue to fuck me with it.

If nothing else this white boy knew he could eat the hell out of pussy.

“Touch my cock, Dani,” he urged afterward, shifting again to rise from the couch.

I heard his zipper and then the rustle of his pants falling to the floor. I dared to look and came eye to…ahem eye with his long, red, and angry-looking penis as he knelt by the couch.

“Suck it,” he ordered thickly, stroking it.

“What?” I shrieked as he touched the tip to my cheek.

“We don’t have to fuck. Just suck my cock good for me.”

I scrambled off the couch completely, pulling my skirt back down over my hips. “I know damn well you did not just tell me to suck your…your…? Are you crazy?”

Winthrop’s erection shriveled as he stood and jerked up his pants in frustration and anger. He picked up his goblet and downed his drink in one gulp. “Oh, but it’s just dandy for me to lick your clit whenever you snap your goddamn fingers, right?”

“I ain’t never asked your white ass to do a motherfuckin’ thing.” I was more angry than ever as I slipped and sounded more like Dom than myself.

He raked his hand through his hair and then pointed his finger at me accusingly. “This whole virgin bit is getting a little old, don’t you think, Dani? Hell, you act like you’ve never done it before. I’m sure one of the brothers—”

I slapped him, leaving an angry red handprint on his cheek. “Get the hell out,” I shouted, storming to the door to open it wide. “I do not appreciate you calling me a whore on the sly just because I will not put your skinny dick in my mouth.”

He flushed with embarrassment. “Sorry, I don’t have a huge gorilla cock.”

“What?” I shrieked, seeing red—all variations and different hues of reds.

“Is there a problem, Ms. Danielle?”

I whirled around, and there stood Mohammed, very calm and cool in his blue uniform.

Winthrop walked over to the door to stand beside me. “This doesn’t concern you.”

Worried that Mohammed would do something to lose his job or get arrested, I placed a restraining hand on his chest. “Mr. Blanchard was just leaving.”

Never once breaking his stare with Winthrop, Mohammed stepped aside.

Winthrop glanced at me angrily before turning to grab his briefcase and leave in a huff.

Soon the elevator dinged with its arrival, and I knew he was gone.

“Choose your friends more carefully, Ms. Danielle,” Mohammed warned with his lilting Jamaican accent before walking away.

I closed my door, securely locking it behind me. I was a bundle of nervous anxiety. I wanted to call my girls. Picking up the phone, I dialed Alizé. Her mom said she was at Rah’s. She was with her man so I let her be.

Dom had already left for work, and besides Ze told me how Dom tripped on her, so I had already decided to give her some space.

Moët was barely allowed phone calls, and her cell phone was off.

Resolved to saving the juice until tomorrow, I ran a bubble bath and slipped beneath the depths with a sigh. I was adjusting my eye mask when I realized that I had not even told Mohammed thank you.

I
’m f’ed up. Big-time.

The junior suite at the Hilton downtown was packed up with about thirty fellas. I was damn near blinded by all the diamond jewelry them cats was sportin’. Nothin’ but ballers. It was a bachelor party for one of these fools who called himself gettin’ married in the morning.

Matter of fact, it was the same little thick brother over there eatin’ Cherry out on the floor in front of the lit fireplace. A bunch of his boys surrounded them cheerin’ his ass on. The way she was hollerin’, she either was a damn good actress or that little m’fer was hittin’ the right spot, ya know?

I was high as hell, laughing to myself when I thought of his future wifey kissin’ his nasty-ass mouth in the mornin’. The bitch ain’t know it, but she’ll be tastin’ Cherry’s twat.

Now I was busy givin’ some cat a hellified lap dance in the corner, wearing nothing but thigh-high boots, a thong, and pasties on my breasts. I was twistin’ my body, damn near doin’ a head stand so that I popped that coochie all up in his face. And he was steady puttin’ them bills down inside my boots.

When he stopped givin’ up the money, I politely got my ass out of his face. No money, no honey, ya heard? I stood up, and the next fool sat down in the chair behind my back. I started backin’ that ass up until I sat down on his lap. His hands touched my hips as I bent over to touch my toes and bounce on him like a low rider.

The crowd around us went wild, shoutin’, “Damn!” in unison as I worked hard for the money in a way Donna Summer didn’t know shit about. Some of the knuckleheads yelled out some rude shit, but I ignored them. I was too high to care. Too numb inside to give a fuck. Anyway, the m’fers with big mouths either had a small wallet or an even smaller dick. I ain’t had time for either.

Without standing, I twisted around on his lap and then set my legs on his shoulders. I looked into his face and froze. “What the hell you doin’ here?” I asked. My eyes were half closed from the liquor and shit.

He kissed both of my thighs and held my legs with his hands so I couldn’t move. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Lex’s death really fucked with me. Deep down I knew it was all my fault that he got into the accident, because he was mad with me and lost control of the SUV. All mine.

The first few days were hell for me. My ass realized too little and too late that I really loved that nigga. I LOVED him. I missed him. And sometimes I felt like I wanted to be with him in death.

It got to be that I could go to sleep only if I was drunk or high. Seein’ him in that casket had really shook me up.

My bedroom door cracked open, and I could slap myself for not locking it when I got home this morning.

“Mama?”

I held my blunt down on the side of my bed. “Get out of here, Kiki,” I yelled, my patience shot to hell.

She peeked her little head in any damn way. “Ma?”

“Do what the fuck I said, Kimani!”

The door shut, and I stuck my blunt in my mouth as I wiped my eyes with my hands. Guilt filled me.

Guilt over Lex’s death.

Guilt over the way I treated my child.

Guilt over what I did last night.

I still can’t believe I fucked that dude.

My door swung open. “Look here, bitch. I don’t give a damn what you do, but you ain’t gone have my grandbaby cryin’.”

I turned my head to look at Diane, but I ain’t say nothin’.

She pointed her finger in my face. “That’s your child. No man, dead or alive, is worth you ignoring her. You understand?”

I turned my head to look out the window and still ain’t said shit. I was too busy lookin’ at the sunrise. Too busy feelin’ like shit.

“You better get your act together. I heard ’bout how wild you been actin’ down at the club. Every time I see your ass, you drinkin’ or smokin’—”

“And you don’t?” I asked in a dull voice, turning to look at her.

Diane’s body got stiff like “Oh, no you didn’t.”

I knew it was coming, and I looked back out the window.

“Look here, bitch. I’m in control of my shit. Don’t throw what I do in my face. See, you can pack all your shit off the floor and get the hell out if you don’t like the way I run this f’ing show. This is my shit, and I do what the hell I want to…in…
my
…shit.”

I kept looking at the peach, blue, and lavender surrounding that red-ass sky and said absolutely nothing.

I
absolutely loved the summer. The heat pressed against my body like a passionate lover, roasting my warm banana complexion to a bronzed pecan tan that I welcomed. I would sneak out into the backyard when my parents were gone, rub my body with suntan lotion, and baste like a bird on a rotisserie.

Summertime in Newark was a joy to me. The city was different, and you could tell when the summer fun was nearing without looking at a calendar. There was a different feel in the days. Freedom from long school hours had children laughing. Music being pumped from car radios thump-thumped as people drove down your block. And there always seemed to be more vehicles on the road when the heat reigned.

And the people. You never knew just how many people lived in your neighborhood until it got hot. The beautiful mosaic of people on the streets, stoops, and porches seeking relief from the heat of an apartment or house. All welcoming the death of winter and the vibrant life of the summer season with a smile.

The block parties. The ice cream peddlers driving around the neighborhood. The open fire hydrants children played in to escape the heat. The rugged b-boys playing ball on the blacktop courts.

I loved it all.

I sat cross-legged on my bed and gazed out at the boys playing football in the street down below. A car slowed to a stop, momentarily ending their game as they all scattered to either side of the street to let it pass. On the sidewalk four little girls were doing steps, chanting, “The devil did it to me,” as they clapped their hands and stomped their feet.

“Yeah, me, too,” I muttered to myself, hating that I even thought of the Good and Honorable Reverend Luke DeMark.

My cell phone vibrated from near my pillow. I rolled off my bed and wedged a book under the closed door. There were no locks on any of the Jones’s doors. No, that book wouldn’t keep them out, but it would give me time to hide my phone.

There were no TVs, radios, or telephones in our bedroom for me to use to drown out my voice in case my wardens happened by my room. Twenty-one and still sneaking. Ridiculous.

I reached for it and flipped it open, glad that Cris let me borrow the money to pay the bill and turn it back on. “Hello,” I answered, lifting the screen on my window to stick my head outside.

“Good morning, Mo.”

“Hey, Cristal. Why didn’t you call on the house phone?” I asked, waving at the kids who caught sight of me and yelled my name.

“I did. Your mama said you were sleeping and then asked me why I don’t go to church.”

Rolling my eyes, I swallowed back my irritation. “What’s up, girl?”

“Remember the day you came by here last week?”

“Yeah.”

“And remember the guy you rode up in the elevator with?”

“That rapper Bones?”

“Yes.”

Oh, I remembered. He had been too fine with his sexy black self.

“He asked me for your phone number, but you know I had to check with you first,” Cristal said. “Then he gave me his number to give to you.”

“He did?” I asked, surprised. “What should I do, Cris?”

She was quiet for a minute. “I know you took what happened a few months ago really hard. I would have, too, but it is time to go on with your life the best that you can. Just be more careful this time.”

I looked at the kids in the street and realized that eight years from now that would’ve been my son playing ball or my daughter being grown and doing steps with her friends. My eyes and my heart got sad.

“He is just a phone call away, Mo,” she said softly. “He just went into a meeting with Mr. Linx—”

“Mr. Linx?” I asked at her formality.

“I am at work,” she reminded me. “Anyway, what do you want to do?”

“Okay, but give him my number.”

Twenty minutes later my cell phone vibrated. I carried it with me into the bathroom while I got ready for an afternoon summer class. I didn’t get out of my funk soon enough to pass one lousy class. So I won’t officially graduate until the end of first summer session. Thank God I was still allowed to march with the rest of my class.

Another secret I kept from my parents.

Flipping the phone, I turned on the shower and sat down on the toilet. “Hello,” I answered in my most feminine voice.

“Moët?”

“Yes.”

“Hey. This is Bones.”

I shivered. He had a voice like Jah Rule, a body like Ginuwine, and the looks of Tupac. A triple threat.