Some Came Desperate: A Love Saga (19 page)

        “That it’s been going on for years.  That’s not possible.”

        “Really now?”

        “It’s not possible.  Nicky wouldn’t. . .  He wouldn’t break the rules like that.”

        “What rules?”

        Delia closed her eyes.  “Just . . . I know him and he wouldn’t do that.”

        “Okay.  Whatever.  But ask yourself this one little question: why I’m gonna come all the way over here and lie to you like that?  I don’t know you from Adam, and don’t care to, either, to be honest.  That’s what’s wrong with us women, though.  We let these men treat us any kind of way and we still believe that they’re so saintly.  Please.  I know Nick Perry.  See him at my sister’s crib almost every night.  He even pay her bills, though.  So you can believe whatever you like.”  She looked up and saw Curtis returning to her table.  “Anyway, I’ve got to run,” she said, standing up.  “Don’t say nobody never warned you.” 

        Shay was about to leave, and Delia was about to let her, when Delia suddenly panicked.  “Wait,” she said and Shay looked at her.  Delia hesitated, pulled out a pin and paper, and wrote down her cell phone number.  She handed it to Shay.  “Call that number,” she said, “the next time Nick shows up at your sister’s house.  And I’ll come over and see for myself.”

        Shay smiled.  She knew she wasn’t as cool as she tried to let on.  “And what’s in it for me?” she asked, smelling the desperation that suddenly gripped her mark. 

        Delia looked Shay up and down.  “You’ll be handsomely compensated,” she said, “I assure you.”

        Shay smiled.  She liked that response.  And left.  Delia continued to look at the young woman as she joined some young man across the room.  She wasn’t surprised by the news that Nick was involved with some woman.  Heck she was involved with her own stable of men.  But what was surprising was the length of time of this involvement, if that hoochie was to be believed.  And the timing.  The timing was all wrong.  She couldn’t get a job selling toilet tissue at this stage of her modeling career, and she was already living off of her savings as it was.  She wasn’t about to lose Nick and all that he had to offer her.  Her only hope was that this woman of Nick’s was about as classy as her sister.  Because if she was something special, and beautiful, and YOUNG, Delia knew that she’d be in trouble; the kind of trouble, at this late stage, that had a way of playing for keeps.

Later that same night, Delia was lying in bed beside Nick.  It had taken a lot of effort on her part to get him to even come over, let alone go to bed with her, and now was her moment of truth.  She turned sideways and looked at him, as he smoked his cigarette and stared into space, as his broad, bare chest rose up and down in a kind of rhythmic contentment.  He looked at her.  “What’s the matter?”

        “How long have we been together?” she asked him and he immediately looked away.  Here we go again, he thought.

        “You know how long, babe, come on.”

        Delia took exception.  “You make it sound as if I’m playing some kind of game.”

        “What’s your point, Del?”

        “My point is that I want us to get married.”

        This floored Nick.  Never, not ever, had she been so blunt.  He looked at her.  “What?”

        “You heard me.  No more playing house with me, Nicky.  I’m too damn old.”

        He stared at her, at the fear all over her beautiful face.  For sixteen years they’d been together.  Playing house, as she called it.  Sixteen long years.  The best years of her life, as she’d already reminded him.  She never made any demands on him, any restrictions.  Just that he never stop loving her.  He’d stopped that a long time ago, long before he even had heard of Simone Rivers.  Now it was almost unbearable.  And he didn’t know what to say.

        “I don’t expect an answer tonight,” she said.  “Take a day or two, to think about it.  Then let me know.”  The terror in her voice, in her eyes, was devastating.  She wanted him to take her in his arms right here and right now and tell her yes, of course he’ll marry her.  She’d been his lady since they were both young and so very carefree. 

        But he couldn’t do it.  He, instead, nodded.  And looked away.

FOURTEEN

They were still counting votes in Florida, an exercise that would either continue the Clinton legacy by electing his vice president, or give a cowboy governor from Texas a chance, and it was a rainy day in Miami.  Simone left Matt Ray’s late, but still managed to stop by the grocery store before driving across town to her apartment.  And despite the weather, which was miserable, she was looking forward to her dinner date with Nick.  He sounded so down when he phoned her earlier asking to meet with her.  She thought cooking dinner for him would be just the picker-upper he needed.  She knew he was going through a messy trial, where he had to end up sitting second chair because the attorney of record, one of the more seasoned lawyers in his firm, was blowing it big-time.  That, she automatically assumed, was the reason for his blue mood.

        But whatever the reason she had every intention of snapping him out of it.  They still hadn’t been able to make any headway on their own relationship, partly because Simone hadn’t bothered to bring it up again and Nick certainly wasn’t, but maybe after tonight, she thought as she parked her car in her complex parking garage, grabbed her groceries and took the elevator upstairs, everything will change.

        As soon as she unlocked her door and went inside, however, she saw Shay slouched down on the sofa, watching the presidential vote counting fiasco that was quickly branding Florida as the most backwards state in the union.  She was also doing her nails.

        “What are you watching,” Simone asked as she kicked shut the door, the two bags of groceries causing her to have to look above the bags at her sister. 

        “I watching these Florida Republicans try to steal the election from Al Gore, that’s what I’m watching.”

        “I didn’t expect to see you still home tonight.”

        “Why you so concerned about my schedule?  And what you doing with all that food?  I thought you already bought groceries.”

        “I’m not concerned about you schedule,” Simone said, heading for the kitchen.  “And these are just a few things I picked up for dinner.”

        Before she could sit the groceries on the kitchen’s counter top, Shay was at the door.  “Dinner?  For me and you?  What, you think you gonna be celebrating tonight?”

        “I might.”

        “Child please.  That ain’t gonna let Al Gore win this election, not if Jeb Bush got anything to say about it.”

        “I’m not thinking about no election.”

        “Ain’t you for Al Gore?”

        “I voted for him, yeah.  And what makes you think he won’t win?  Those hanging chads might hang in his favor.”

        “Come on, girl.  George Bush and them Republicans got this in the bag.  They ain’t letting no Democrat take that power from them.  Not after eight years of Bill Clinton.  They’re hell-bent on taking over that White House, and I know that’s right.”

        “If America wants a Democrat, then that’s what we’ll get.”

        “Don’t hold you breathe.  So what’s with this big dinner?”

        Simone hesitated.  She knew of Shay’s tendency to blow everything out of proportion.  “You’re welcome to some, of course,” she said delicately, “but I’m fixing dinner for Nick tonight.”

        Shay smiled.  “I see.”

        “No, you don’t.”

        “When is the big man due to make an appearance?  I’ll want to be out of your way when he does.  Although why I bother I do not know.”

        Simone looked at her.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

        “Simone, I’ve been here during those so-called dinner dates all right?  And all y’all do is eat dinner, watch TV, and hug-up!  Then he leaves.  Every time!”

        “Of course he leaves.  What do you expect him to do?”

        Shay shook her head.  “You cannot possibly be that dense, Simone.  Think about it?  You ain’t givin’ it up to a healthy brother like that.  He’s got to be gettin’ it from somewhere!”

        Simone continued unpacking her groceries, although her heart was ramming against her chest.  She’d thought about that very issue a thousand times herself.  She’d be a fool to think that a man like Nick would have been celibate these last two years.  Of course, they were only friends - he had made that clear early on.  But still the idea of it.  The thought that her Nick could ever be intimate with another woman disturbed her mightily.  She absolutely could not see him doing that to her - especially not over these last few months when he couldn’t seem to stay away from her for longer than a day or two.  He even took her to his condo once and cooked her dinner for a change.  There was absolutely no evidence of any woman staying there, or even hanging out there - and she did check.  So when, she wanted to know, could he possibly have time for this other woman?  He couldn’t, she had concluded, even shaking her head now just thinking about it, as she began unpacking her bags again.

        “Anyway,” Shay said, realizing that her sister wasn’t about to engage her in any conversation about her weird relationship with her precious Nick, “what time is he coming over?”

        Simone looked at her small wristwatch, a very nice Cartier that Nick had given to her.  “Any minute now, actually,” she said.  “He said he needed to talk to me about something.  But you don’t have to leave.”

        “I know I don’t have to.  I don’t have to do anything I don’t wanna do.  But let’s face it, sis: me and your. . . whatever he is to you, just don’t get along.”

        “He likes you, Shay, in his own way.”

        “Yeah, right.  And I like him, too.  In my own way.”

        “Whatever,” Simone said the way Shay often said it and Shay smiled. 

        “I’m out of here,” she said, heading back into the living room.

        “You’re leaving now?” Simone yelled after her.  “Shay, it’s pouring out there.”

        “And?  It ain’t like I don’t have an umbrella.  Not to mention my own ride, thank-you very much.”

        Simone shook her head on that one.  Shay did have a car now, thanks to her latest boyfriend, but it concerned Simone.  She wondered what in the world was Shay out there giving up for these men to be so generous to her.  And Simone knew she was giving up something.  She’s seen Shay’s latest, and although he was a step above her previous beaus (he at least had a legitimate job), he still had that streetwise look of a brother who wouldn’t know what it meant to give away something for nothing.

        The doorbell rang before Shay could get it, and Simone hurried from out of the kitchen.  When she opened the door and realized it was Nick, in his dark turtleneck sweater and gorgeous, if not weary-looking face, she smiled.  “Hello there,” she said and stepped aside for him to come on in.

        Every time she saw him she wanted to throw herself at him.  He seemed to want it too - whenever he saw her - but he never would go that far with her.  Maybe later, after they’d spent most of the evening together would he hug her and pull her against him, but never on first sight.  Which, Simone thought as she closed the front door, pretty much summed up their relationship.

        “Hello, Mr. Perry,” Shay said, emphasizing the ‘Mister,’ as she returned to the living room putting on her jacket.  “How is the great one getting along these days?”

        “Didn’t you say you were leaving, Shay?”

        Shay looked at Simone with her, if you only knew look, and began heading for the door.  “Yeah, I’m leaving,” she said.  “Glad to get up out of here.  Trust.”

        “That rain is fierce,” Nick said as she moved past him.  “Be careful out there.”

        “You be careful in here,” Shay said and then began laughing as she walked out of the door.  She was pulling out her cell phone before she could make it to the elevator.          

Delia heard the phone ringing but she was enjoying Rod’s affections too much.  He hadn’t been over ten minutes and already he had her down on her sofa ravaging her.  And he wasn’t bad, either.  He was no Nick Perry, but he wasn’t bad.  She liked a man without pretense, one who knew she had called him over for one thing and one thing only and he wasn’t trying to act as if there was more to this story.  Nick rarely gave it up to her lately, almost never in fact, and even when he did she had to practically beg him for that much.  So she appreciated those young, wild bucks like Rodney.  They weren’t looking for anything either, just a good time.  And they also understood this because she made them understand it: they may be her boys, but Nick was her one and only man.

        “Let me get that,” she finally said when the phone would not let up.  Rod, however, would not either.  “Rod, wait and let me get that.”

        “Get it later.”

        “Not later- now.”  But he kept going, breathing so heavily she wondered if he was going to pass out.  “Rod!”  He was all over her face, kissing and biting and she was trying her best to break away.  Finally, she had had enough.  “I said stop!” she said in no uncertain terms and Rod, who had known the older woman too long, immediately stopped.

        “This had better be important,” Delia said into her cell phone.

        “Your man’s at my sister’s house,” Shay’s voice chimed on.  “Is that important enough?”

        Delia sat up on the sofa, pulling her robe close.  “He’s there now?”

        “I just said he was.”

        Delia hesitated.  She wasn’t at all sure if she even wanted to know, although she had to know.  She grabbed a writing pad and pen from out of her side table’s drawer.  “What’s the address?” she asked.

        “No so fast, Wonder Woman,” Shay replied.  “How you plannin’ on paying me?”

        Delia sighed.  How she hated dealing with those uneducated, streetwise sisters.  You couldn’t put a thing past them.  “Is it a house or an apartment?”

        “An apartment.  So?”

        “I’ll meet you in front of the complex.  I pay you, you tell me which apartment it is.”

        “You’d better get to steppin’,” Shay warned, “because I’m not about to ruin my evening waiting all night on you.”    

        She didn’t have to worry about that, Delia thought.  She would ‘get to stepping’ as soon as she hung up this telephone.  This was Nick she was talking about.  This was her life, her future, her everything she was bartering with.  “Just tell me which complex,” Delia said, “and I’ll be there.”

She wanted to get dinner started but she could tell by the look in his troubled eyes that food was not going to cure what ailed him.  They sat down, on her sofa, and he immediately leaned forward, pulled out a cigarette, and lit up.  Whatever was on his mind was weighing heavily on it, as Simone sat still and allowed him to take a few puffs, relax a little, and then look at her.

        She had expected him to speak when he looked at her, but he didn’t.  He just stared at her, giving her the distinct impression that he was appraising her; that he was sizing her up.

        “Is it the trial?” she asked him, getting worried herself now.  She knew he had to all but take over a very messy murder trial from one of his associates after he failed to properly vet a series of witnesses that ended up nearly decimating their case-in-chief.  Nick had been talking to her about it for the last few nights.  But only this night that wasn’t it.  She could tell by the way, instead of answering her, he puffed on his cigarette and again looked away from her. 

        “What is it, Nick?” she asked nervously, unable to hide her concern.

        At first he didn’t say or do anything.  Then he doused out his cigarette and leaned back.  He placed an arm around her, causing her to snuggle against him.  “I’m in the valley of decision, Simone,” he said, “and it’s not a comfortable place to be.”