Misty (22 page)

This is the same muthafucka who looked at me all crazy when I had a messed up mug and tried to flirt with him at the hospital. I'm gonna have to pay him back for hurting my feelings. I'm gonna turn his ass all the way out. He's gonna jump when I say jump, and he's gonna be crawling on all fours before I'm through with him. This dude is gonna be trained exactly like Brick used to be before my stupid mother interfered and undid all my good work, turning a good man bad. I hope David doesn't get locked up for putting a bullet through the dreadlock man's head before I have my fun with him.

“Give me another kiss before you leave,” Misty said with her lips puckered. David embraced her and covered her mouth with his, putting his heart and soul into his kiss.

After Misty pulled away, he asked, “Is it all right if I call you later on tonight? You know, to touch base and say goodnight?”

“Not tonight. Make peace with wifey. When you make love to her, I want you to pretend that you're making love to me.”

David frowned. “I don't want to have sex with her. My eyes are open now, and I'm sick to my stomach over the way I allowed her to play me. I don't care about her and dude. They can have each other because I want you.”

Damn, my coochie must be the bomb. This muthafucka is tryna leave his family so he can lay up in bed with me.

“If you really care about me, you won't get me mixed up in your marital problems. Now, please go home and be nice to your wife so she won't go through your phone and find my number. The last thing I need is for a jealous female to be calling and harassing me.”

“I won't let that happen,” he promised.

“Good,” Misty said, cracking open the door. “We'll get together later this week, okay?”

“When?” he asked eagerly.

“I'm not sure. But we'll get together before the week is out.”

David exited her room quite reluctantly and only after Misty promised to call him first thing in the morning.

P
aloma, Sergio's housekeeper, who had recently arrived from Santo Domingo, had provided Anya with the recipe for pollo guisado. Paloma was a kind woman in her early forties, though she appeared much older. Probably from a lifetime of domestic labor that began in her childhood.

Like Sergio, Paloma was dark-complexioned with a helmet of soft, curly black hair. Her Spanish accent was melodic and soothing, and Anya enjoyed listening to her speak.

Taking her friend Natalie's criticism to heart, Anya decided that a one-course meal wasn't grand enough for a milestone birthday, and so she hired Paloma to stay overtime and cook a feast of Dominican food for the private festivity.

The two women worked together in the kitchen with Paloma multitasking as she prepared numerous Dominican dishes. Anya was impressed with how organized and efficient the housekeeper was in the kitchen. Meats that were marinating in special sauces were refrigerated, beans that had soaked overnight were poured into a pot and placed on the stove, and baked bread was taken out of the oven. Meanwhile, Paloma chopped garlic and numerous vegetables—many of which Anya could not identify—with the speed of a seasoned chef.

Simply watching Paloma in action made Anya's head spin, and
so she concentrated on mixing the cake batter and getting it in the oven. Once that was done, Anya went through the steps of preparing the chicken stew. While tending to the feast, Paloma managed to keep an eye on Anya, offering helpful advice, such as: “a little more salt; don't forget the bouillon cube; don't dice the onions, cut them in rings.”

Finally, with the chicken browned and all the other ingredients mixed in, Anya turned the burner on low.

“Can you taste this and tell me what you think?” Anya asked, inviting Paloma to sample the contents of her simmering pot.

Paloma dipped a wooden spoon in the mixture and tasted. “Very good. Are you sure you're not from the Dominican Republic?” Paloma teased.

“No, but my mother was from the Caribbean. She was born in Trinidad.”

“Well, that explains it. You have Caribbean cooking in your blood,” Paloma said with a warm smile.

Anya beamed with pride as she frosted the cake she'd taken from the oven. This was going to be a birthday Sergio would never forget. His attentiveness and patience had won her heart. Though she'd never forget Brick, she was finally ready to move on. Tonight, she would tell Sergio she was ready to take the plunge and move in with him. But first she would entertain and entice him with a sexy little birthday strip-tease she'd learned from a burlesque-dance DVD.

“Would you keep an eye on my stew while I take a shower and get dressed?” Anya asked. “Sergio will be home soon and I want to look nice.”

“Not a problem. Go make yourself beautiful for Mr. Sergio; I'll make sure your dish doesn't burn.”

Anya showered and changed into a black patent leather, body-hugging strapless dress with a long, side zipper that she planned to unzip slowly during her striptease. Beneath the dress, she had on a frilly push-up bra and a thong with a removable rose petal in front. Sergio was going to love the second phase of his birthday celebration.

•  •  •

Paloma brought out the pollo guisado. “This was prepared by the hands of your fine lady,” she told Sergio.

“With Paloma's help,” Anya added. She wanted to devour all the food that had been prepared, but feared if she ate another bite, her tummy would protrude unattractively during the burlesque routine she planned to entice Sergio with after the meal. She declined the chicken stew and asked Paloma to hold off on the rest of the food. “Bring out the cake next; I want Sergio to have a slice before he gets too stuffed from all this food.”

Sergio tasted the chicken and nodded his head in approval. “This tastes like my mother's cooking,” he commented.

Flattered, Anya smiled, though she knew he was only teasing. “Stop messing with me, Sergio. Seriously, does it taste okay?”

He took another mouthful and he closed his eyes blissfully. “It's delicious.”

Anya watched with delight as Sergio devoured the food she'd cooked. Paloma cleared away the dishes and brought out the coconut and chocolate birthday cake, which Sergio raved over.

“How much longer is it going to take for you to make up your mind about settling down, ma-ma? After tasting your cooking, I'm interested in more than shacking up; I'm ready to make it official and tie the knot.”

These words were spoken half-jokingly, and Sergio and Anya laughed together. Despite the laughter, she saw earnestness in Sergio's eyes and wondered if he really was thinking about marriage. She hoped not because she wasn't ready. At least not yet. What she was ready to do was to take the birthday celebration to the next level.

“Your presents are in your bedroom. Are you ready to join me upstairs?” she asked, forming her glistening lips in a sensual pout.

Eager to oblige, Sergio wiped his mouth with the napkin and stood. Joining hands, they exited the dining room. “You look so good in that dress, baby. I can't wait to peel it off of you,” Sergio murmured as they climbed the curved staircase.

In Sergio's room, a bottle of his favorite champagne was sitting on ice and two gold-rimmed flutes bearing Sergio's monogram set next to the gold ice bucket.

In the center of the bed, a gift that was wrapped handsomely in navy paper and tied with a small gold ribbon was placed in the center of his bed.

“What do we have here?”

“Open it and see.”

Anya watched with eagerness as Sergio unwrapped the present. He took the pen out of the cushioned box and appeared to be impressed with the luxury writing instrument. “This is classy,” he said, inspecting the pen. “It's perfect for the new life I'm building. It would have never occurred to me to invest in something like this, and you've saved me from embarrassment.”

“What do you mean?” Anya asked.

“I don't think my business associates would take me seriously if I went around with a disposable pen in my suit pocket. This beautiful accessory makes a statement.”

“What's it saying?” Anya teased.

“It's saying, I'm gonna replace this nigga's gun.”

“What?” Anya looked puzzled.

“One stroke of a pen can solidify a deal faster than discharging a full round of bullets from a gun,” Sergio said wisely.

“I'm so glad you like it. Happy Birthday, Sergio.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, it's time for your second gift. Would you like a drink before I present it?”

“Sure, why not?” Sergio moistened his lips and furrowed his brows as he wondered what Anya had in store for him.

Anya popped the champagne bottle and poured the sparkling liquid into both flutes. She handed Sergio a glass and then took a quick swig from her glass. Next, she clicked a switch on the entertainment system and “Rocket” poured through the speakers. Swiveling her hips, Anya began her practiced routine.

Grinning, Sergio gulped the contents of his glass and leaned back, ready to enjoy the show.

Anya dramatically extended her left arm, caressing her flesh with the fingers of her right hand. The burlesque moves included hip rolls and sexy slaps on her thighs. By the time she began daintily tugging on the zipper, pulling it downward, a half-inch at a time, Sergio was sitting on the edge of the bed, urging her to take it all off.

But Anya continued to taunt and tease, taking forever to remove her dress, and when she did, Sergio was so worked up, he announced that the show was over and lifted Anya up and tossed her on the bed. He tore off her bra in split seconds and when his large hands worked on the elastic band of her rose-bud decorated thong, Anya surprised him by pulling off the rose, exposing the easy access to her private parts.

“Damn, that's sexy.” He hurriedly rid himself of his clothes, and
in seconds, he was naked and straddling her. He covered her mouth with his. His tongue was sweet, like champagne, and Anya closed her eyes, savoring the taste, and feeling a sense of peace. She felt safe and protected in his arms. It was time to allow herself personal happiness. It was time to finally let go of her feelings for Brick.

Sharp raps on the bedroom door startled Anya and Sergio.

“What is it?” Sergio barked.

“May I speak to you, Mr. Sergio? It's important,” Paloma said on the other side of the door.

“One moment,” he said impatiently. Sergio got out of bed and retrieved a robe. Anya covered her nudity by pulling the sheets and duvet up to her chin.

Sergio only cracked the door open. “What is it, Paloma?”

“Mr. Majid is here. He says there's been some kind of emergency involving one of your workers, and he needs to speak to you. I told him you'd gone to bed for the night, but he said you'd be upset if he didn't alert you to the situation.”

“He's right. Thanks, Paloma. Tell Majid I'll be downstairs in a few.” Sergio closed the door.

“What's going on?” Anya asked.

“Something has come up and Majid is here. It has to be bad news for him to drive here to tell me in person. I'm sorry about this interruption, baby, but it's an important business matter.” Sergio put on a pair of briefs beneath his robe. “Hopefully, the matter can be resolved quickly.”

Sergio exited the bedroom and closed the door behind him.

Anya resented Majid's intrusion. She disliked the man intensely and sensed that the feelings were mutual. She could tell Majid resented the time Sergio spent with her. If she wasn't in his life, Sergio would have been at the club tonight, spending his birthday
partying with Majid and the boys. She wondered if Majid had made up an excuse merely to interrupt her and Sergio's private celebration.

With time to kill, Anya got out of bed and tidied up the room by picking her dress and heels off the floor. She hung the dress in Sergio's closet, mixing it in with his vast collection of suits and casual clothes. She stuck her heels and purse in a spare shoe drawer and stood back with her arms folded, observing Sergio's overflowing wardrobe. She wondered where she'd store her clothes when she and Sergio set up housekeeping together. More than likely, Anya would use one of the spare rooms for her personal closet space.

Sergio had brought up the M-word today, and she returned to bed, imagining what it would be like to be his wife. Sitting up in bed, naked, she took long sips of champagne while waiting for Sergio to return. When forty minutes passed without Sergio even checking on her, she felt somewhat offended. She was also bored and the boredom brought on a sudden appetite. Deciding to try out portions of the feast that she hadn't tasted yet, Anya put on one of Sergio's oversized T-shirts and crept along the hallway to the back stairs that led to the kitchen area. Sergio always received guests in the main room, which was quite a distance from the kitchen. No one except Paloma would know that she was scrounging in the fridge like a starving beggar.