No One in the World (15 page)

I picked up my cell phone and dialed Sissy.

“Cobi, she's perfect, yes?” Sissy said. I could hear in her voice how proud she was of her work.

“She's nice, Sissy. But there's no such thing as perfect. That's not why I'm calling. I need a favor.”

“Well, considering what you're doing for me, I guess I owe you one. Shoot.”

“I need you to give my brother a job.”

Silence.

“Sissy.”

“No. There are a million other places he can work.”

“He's an ex-con. You know how hard it'll be for him to find work,” I said. “And he shouldn't have to go through that, considering he has family that can employ him.”

“You're his family,” Sissy argued. “Find him a job at the state building where you work.”

“Yeah, right. Our business is locking up people like Eric, not employing them,” I said. “It would never happen, no matter how hard I tried. I need this from you. You said you owed me one.”

“Cobi, I can't. I'm sorry.”

“Sissy . . .” I said firmly. “I wouldn't ask this of you if—”

“Fine,” I heard her blow angrily into the phone. “But he'll be cleaning toilets.”

“No. You can do better than that. I'm signing my life away for two years. He can file records, answer phones, or something.”

“Dammit, Cobi, all right. I'll find something. But if he does anything I perceive as questionable, he's fired.”

B
lac kissed Theresa's full lips, rode her with a little less force till she finished climaxing, then he lowered her legs, leaned over her, brushed her sweat-drenched hair from out of her face, and kissed her deeply again.

Theresa's eyes closed as she breathed. A content smile appeared on her face. She looked up at Blac. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

His only family was in Wisconsin, and if it wasn't for Theresa sitting outside that gate in her rusting Chevy Malibu to take him home with her he would've had nowhere to go.

Blac raised himself from the bed and stood in front of the mirror on her dresser. She sat up behind him, admiring his tight, well-built body.

Blac glanced at the reflection of the slightly overweight woman behind him. She had gained a few pounds since he had gone to prison, but they were all in the right places—her hips, her ass, and her breasts. Her hair was longer now—a weave of some sort, Blac thought. It looked nice, though, and he figured she might have done it a day or two ago just for his release.

Theresa wasn't winning no beauty pageants. She was a hard 5.5 on a scale to 10, but that's what Blac liked. A woman who didn't think she was too cute. A woman who wasn't getting hit on every time she walked
through the grocery store. A woman who thought she could get no luckier than to find a man like Blac.

Yeah, Theresa was exactly what he needed, and as Blac slid on his jeans, without first putting on his underwear, he figured he'd stay here till he was able to drum up the money to give Cutty, then he would head out to Wisconsin.

He just hoped he could get it in time.

Blac was surprised he had not heard from the drug dealer or any of his boys yet. They knew where Theresa lived, and Blac was surprised not to find some black Hummer or huge GMC truck with smoked-out windows sitting in front of her house when they pulled up earlier.

Theresa knew about Blac's past, about his brushes with the law, but for the last year, he had promised her that he had changed and would not bring any of that criminal behavior back into her house.

If she got wind of him owing a drug dealer money, despite how much it might hurt her, Blac was almost certain she would put him out.

“You hungry, baby?” Theresa said, climbing out of bed and sidling up behind Blac. Her body was soft against his skin. Her erect nipples pressed into his back, started him going again.

Theresa sunk her small hand into the loose waist of Blac's jeans, grabbed his growing penis, and tugged at it softly.

“We could go again, then I could make you whatever you want to eat.”

He could do that. His sexual appetite was enormous, his skill was masterful, and Theresa was easy. He could bring her to orgasm three more times without as much as a drop of sweat falling from his brow.

“We got all the time in the world for that, baby,” Blac said, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her on the forehead. “Why don't you get that food together now, 'cause I'm starving. And get me the phone. I got an important call to make.”

“Sure, baby,” Theresa said. She grabbed a robe off a chair in the corner of the room and covered her naked body. She stepped out of the room for a moment, then reappeared with the cordless phone. “Roast beef, potatoes, gravy, and green peas sound good to you?” Theresa said, handing the phone over.

“Perfect, baby.”

Theresa smiled.

Blac patted her on the ass as she stepped out the room, giving him his privacy.

He pulled out the scrap of paper Theresa had written Eric's cell phone number this morning, when he called the house about their hanging out. Blac was happy that Eric did as he said—actually called the number Blac had given him the day before Eric was released.

Now Blac called Eric, and waited, a frown on his face, with the pressure of having to find $150,000 for Cutty.

When the call was picked up and Blac heard Eric's voice, a sincere smile appeared on his face. Not until then had he realized how much he missed his friend. “Hey, man! You coming by to pick me up for that beer tonight, or what?”

I
sat on the living room sofa, thumbing through an
Essence
magazine to check out the new Winslow Hair Care advertisement while I thought again about the woman Sissy was having me marry.

Sissy said the contract would be ready for signatures tomorrow.

“I'm going to want the two of you to make at least two very public appearances before we announce the wedding—give people the impression that this has been going on privately, at least for a little while. Then I'm thinking a quick private wedding with just family and a few friends. Don't get me wrong. It'll still be beautiful,” Sissy had said.

The home phone rang on the end table beside me.

“Hello,” I said, picking up, noticing that the screen said it was a call from the front gate.

“Cobi.”

A tingle went through my body at the sound of Tyler's voice. That always happened after not speaking to him for more than a day. I wished I was able to control that and not feel like a giddy schoolgirl whenever he decided to call or drop by to grace me with his presence.

“Tyler,” I said.

“Guess where I am?” he said in a singsongy voice.

“At my front gate.”

“How did you know?”

“I'm psychic. I'm buzzing you in.”

When Tyler walked through the front door, he looked and smelled as good as he always did. His wavy hair was freshly cropped, and his mustache trimmed. I loved when he visited me on the day of a fresh haircut.

After I closed the door, he stepped right up to me, placed a hand to the back of my head, and gave me a long, passionate kiss.

When he was done, I felt breathless and slightly dizzy.
Damn that schoolgirl thing,
I thought, smiling to myself.

“So, tonight is my lucky night,” I said. “You found thirty seconds to spend with me.”

“Business meeting with a couple of congressmen that was supposed to last all night wrapped up early, so here I am,” Tyler said, extending his arms out to his sides, like he was ready for anything.

“You know I could've been busy doing something,” I said.

“But you aren't.”

“And your wife Kennedi and the girls won't miss you too much, you being gone tonight?”

Tyler took my face in his hands. “Cobi, how about we not do this. Tonight I'm free, and I want to be with you. Let's say we put everything else aside and just enjoy each other, okay? We can find a game, or a movie on TV, have a few drinks, and who knows? What do you say?”

He knew he was way too charming for me to deny, and he was right. I didn't want to ruin it. “Fine. What do you want to drink?”

Tyler smiled, walked over to the sofa, grabbed the remote to the flat-screen, and thumbed it on. “Scotch neat. Make it a double.”

I poured us two short glasses halfway full with Black Label, walked them over to Tyler, handed him his, then sat down beside him.

He took a sip, threw an arm around me, and said, “Now why don't you tell me about your day.”

I snuggled in next to him. “Okay, but I think I'm going to have to go back and get the bottle.”

E
ric and Blac sat hunched over beers inside a dimly lit, crowded bar on Fifty-fifth Street.

Blac wore jeans, a T-shirt, and a hooded zipper sweat jacket. Eric wore the peach-colored Boss shirt, designer jeans, and a new pair of black loafers Cobi had bought him earlier.

Blac's head was turned, looking out the storefront window of the bar. He shook his head, as though he couldn't believe what he saw.

“What?” Eric said.

Blac turned to him. “He gave you that motherfucking Audi?” Blac said over an old Rolling Stones tune that played loudly in the bar. “Just gave it to you, like, ‘Here. Here's the keys. Take it.'”

Eric took a drink from his mug. “Yeah, kinda like that, but I ain't gonna keep it.”

“You crazy? He don't even have to say he's giving it to me. Make the mistake and put the keys in my hand, it's mine. Hell, leave the keys on the counter or anywhere I can reach 'em, guess what?”

“I know. The car's yours.”

“Damn, Skippy.” Blac grabbed his beer, took a couple of swallows. “And look at you, all Sean Johned out, looking like Boris Kodjoe and shit.”

“All right, you made your point. I'm lookin' kinda crazy right now.”

“Naw, man. You looking good, for real. Which means dude wasn't lyin' about being who he said he was.”

“Naw. He wasn't lyin'.”

“So you gonna be living there?”

“Guess so.”

“He a decent dude?”

“He's okay, but I don't know if he like me.”

“So why he givin' you all that stuff?”

“Don't know. He says he wants us to be family, but I think maybe he's feeling guilty about him being raised like royalty and me being poor, and hopes tossin' me a few dollars will help him sleep at night.”

“So you think he got a soft spot for guys who had a rough life, make him wanna hand out bags of money? Hell, take me over there. Introduce me to him,” Blac said.

“Don't think so.”

Blac turned away from Eric and faced the bar. He stared at himself in the mirror behind the stacked bottles of liquor, thinking that maybe he had come on a little too strong. He would have to try again. He couldn't afford to blow this.

Blac lifted his mug, took another drink, and wiped his mouth with his knuckle. He turned back to Eric, who seemed deep in thought. “I was just saying, he seems like a pretty cool dude, and to look just like you, that would be a trip to see. You really ought to let me meet him. Besides, I'd love to see this crib you in, if it's all that you sayin' it is.”

“Trust me, Blac. That and more. Dude even got a maid. It ain't no joke.”

“So . . .”

“So what?”

“You gonna let me meet your brotha, or are you ashamed to say you know me?”

“Naw, man,” Eric said, punching Blac in the shoulder, smiling. “I ain't ashamed of you. You can meet him.”

Blac smiled, too. “Introducing me to your brother means more to me than you'll ever know, dude.”

E
arlier, Blac gave Eric some dap when he pulled the Audi up in front of Theresa's house to drop him off. After getting out of the car, Blac's eyes were focused on the area around the dark street for any sign of Cutty's people.

“You all right, man?” Eric said.

Blac showed Eric a fake, confident smile. “I'm good. Holla at you later, right?”

Blac cautiously walked up to the small, two-bedroom house, inserted his key in the lock, and walked in.

He closed the door and double bolted it. He leaned back and exhaled. He told himself that things would work out. He had a good lead. This Cobi guy had loads of money to spare, and it didn't seem as though he had a problem parting with some of it.

Yeah, Blac would be just fine. He had nothing to worry about. Outside of coming up with a plan to get some of Cobi's money. But he had to think about that later, because what bothered him now was the fact that he had been out of prison for almost a full day and there hadn't been any word from Cutty. The man had to have known he was out.

Could there have been a chance that he just forgot about Blac? No. No way in hell. Then again, maybe in return for keeping quiet all that time, Cutty decided that Blac would not have to pay back the money for the drugs after all.

“Baby, is that you?” Theresa called from the bedroom.

“Yeah, just walked in,” Blac said, heading to meet her, his spirits uplifted by the chance he was off the hook.

Blac stepped into the bedroom. Theresa was in a nightgown, in bed. The TV was on, showing a commercial for dog food.

“You have a good meeting with your friend, baby?” Theresa asked.

“Yeah, it was pretty good,” Blac said, sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning over, and kissing Theresa. “How you doing?”

“Fine. Was just waiting for you to get home. You hungry?”

“I'm good. I had something while I was out,” Blac said, standing. “Think I'm gonna take a shower then come in here and do some nasty things to you.”

Theresa laughed. “Don't take too long, or I'm gonna have to come in after you.”

Blac was in the hallway, his shirt halfway over his head, when Theresa added, “Oh yeah, somebody came by looking for you.”