Still Wifey Material (17 page)

“How’s it going over here?” he asked.

“I am so glad to see you,” I said quickly.

“What’s going on?” he wanted to know.

“Nothing much. Just sitting here sipping on my Long Island, talking to this lady.”

“Well, don’t let me interrupt,” he said and began to back up in the direction he had come from.

I quickly grabbed his arm, preventing him from leaving. “Let me talk to you for a minute,” I insisted.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Excuse me,” I said to the woman and then I stood. I pulled Fatu to the other side of the club and reiterated every word of my conversation with that chick. And then I told him how I always wanted to experience a threesome, but never had the nerve to do it. Fatu stood there with the weirdest expression on his face.

“So what are you going to do?” he finally asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you going to take her up on her offer?”

I laughed. “Yeah, if you join in with us.”

He hesitated for a second and then said, “I’m not sure if I can handle both of y’all.”

“I can’t speak for her, but I’ll take it easy on you.”

“I can’t do it tonight. Kira is coming by my place later.”

“Fuck her!”

“Come on,” he said, massaging my shoulders, “let’s do this another night.”

“When?”

“Just get her number and tell her you’ll call her tomorrow.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he told me and then he walked off.

When I returned to the bar homegirl was still sitting there sipping on her drink. She was heavily engaged in a conversation with this other cat, so I sat back and let her do her thing. But right after he walked off, she and I chatted for a bit. After she told me her name was Crissy and that she owned a travel agency across town, I got her number and told her that I would love her to buy me that drink she had offered earlier. After I got my drink I got to know her a little more. I wasn’t about to tell her anything about my life, though. She was just going to be a one-night stand and my one chance to show Fatu how much I could really be down for him.

***

A couple of days later Fatu and I got with Crissy at her condo and believe it or not, shit went down that night. I had never in my life been with a man and another woman at the same time, so it was an experience I’d never forget. As a matter-of-fact, I could definitely see myself partaking in one of those rendezvous again, because Fatu did his motherfucking thing maneuvering back and forth between the two of us. I got mad a few times when I saw how good he was fucking Crissy. He was digging in her ass for days and the expression he was giving was that of a man who was enjoying himself. At one point, I thought he’d forgotten about me because he wouldn’t let up off that chick. He had to have been on her for at least twenty minutes straight, and I didn’t like that shit at all. I told him how I felt when it was all over, so you know he apologized to me and assured me that he would never make me feel like that again. I walked away with a smile and a pocketful of gratification, so I was cool. Too bad we didn’t video record the whole thing. I would’ve loved to show it off to Kira, because I know it would’ve definitely stopped the wedding then and I would have Fatu all to myself for sure.

I
’d been having some major anxiety attacks lately. They all stemmed from feelings I’d been having about Fatu. He’d been doing a lot of disappearing acts these last couple of weeks, saying he was working late at the club, but when I went by there a few times to check on him, the motherfucker wasn’t there. Last night was a perfect example of how he got lost. I called his cell phone and he didn’t answer it. I called his nightclub, and no one seemed to know where the fuck he was at. This lasted the entire night. I didn’t get to talk to Fatu until around two am, and when I finally talked to him, he had a whole bunch of excuses about how he fell asleep over his cousin’s house. Yeah, right! That was a bullshit lie, and he knew that I knew it, but I didn’t have any proof.

I had a trick for his ass on this day, though. I was geared up and ready, especially after he told me he had to run to the liquor store and get a list of shit for the club because the truck didn’t deliver his shipment of alcohol that day. I slipped on my black Juicy Couture sweat suit jacket and put on my all-black Ed Hardy trucker cap. I wanted to keep a low profile while I was tailing Fatu.

I left the shop around eight-thirty pm, and I told Rachael that she’d have to lock up because I was about to go on a mission. She assured me that she’d be OK, so I hopped in my whip and left. The entire drive to nightclub, all I could think about was Fatu. I had made up my mind that I was going to sit outside his fucking nightclub all night if I had to, just to see what type of games he was playing. I needed to know who he was fucking and where she lived.

When I arrived at the club, I parked my car a block and a half away, so I could get a good view of who went in and came out. But after about two and a half hours of that bullshit, I realized that Fatu wasn’t going to show up. At that moment, I started up my engine and headed over to Fatu’s apartment. While I waited for him to appear, Fatu called me. I got scared because I thought he saw me waiting outside.

“Hello,” I said.

“Hi, baby. Where are you?” he asked. I immediately figured that could see me.

“Why? Where am I supposed to be?” I asked, trying to see what he knew.

“You’re supposed to be here fucking me,” he said. I could tell he was smiling.

“I’m at the shop,” I lied.

“Oh, OK. Well, I’m gonna chill in the house for the rest of the night.” Just as Fatu told me that, I saw him coming out of his building. Fatu was a fucking liar!

“Fatu, I’m working on my last client, so I’ll call you back,” I lied again. I needed to get off the phone with him and be ready to follow his ass. Sure enough, Fatu jumped in his ride after Hakim drove it out of the valet parking lot. I waited for three cars to pass and pulled out into traffic after Fatu. He hopped on Highway 290 and headed northeast, toward Rice Village. He dipped in and out of traffic like his mind was going bad, but I hung in there with him, all the while being careful not to get spotted. Then, out of the blue, a fucking sixteen-wheeler jumped right in front of me.

“Move, bitch!” I screamed. The truck inched along, and I swear, I had to have been behind him for at least two miles. I tried to move into the next lane, but the other cars whizzed past so fast, I couldn’t make a move. “Fuck!” I yelled in frustration. I knew I had lost Fatu.

When I finally made it around this big-ass rig, Fatu’s car was nowhere in sight. Tears immediately welled up in my eyes. Now I was really frustrated and pissed.

“Urrrrggghhh! Where the fuck are you?” I screamed, letting the tears run down my face. I knew he was up to something, and I wanted so badly to find out where he was going and who he was going to see. I fucked up, though, and wouldn’t get that chance now.

I took the next exit, which was Bernard Drive, and made a U-turn to get back on the highway. There was really nothing else for me to do but go home.

Exasperated, I slowly pulled into my driveway. I had so much shit on my mind, I couldn’t even see straight. I climbed out of my car and skulked toward my front door. After I threw my keys and handbag onto the coffee table in the living room, I flopped down on the sofa and wondered where the hell Fatu could’ve gone. I picked up my cordless phone and dialed his number. The motherfucker didn’t answer. It rang once and went directly to voice mail.

“Son of a bitch!” I screamed and threw the cordless phone against the wall.

Later that night my telephone rang while I was knocked out. I didn’t bother to look at the CallerID because my eyes weren’t focused enough to see the numbers anyway.

“Hello,” I said, sounding out of it.

“Kira, wake up! This is Carmen.”

“Who?” I asked, wanting the caller to repeat herself.

“It’s me, Carmen.”

I yawned and looked around at my alarm clock. It read one-thirty am, so I immediately knew something was wrong because Carmen never called my house this late, not even when she worked for me at the shop.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“I just got a call from Nikki and she was crying, talking about she had gotten herself in a lot of shit and she was not going to be able to undo what she’d done, but she wouldn’t say what it was. So I was thinking that maybe if you called her she would talk to you.”

“Carmen, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Nikki and I aren’t on it like that. She stays out of my business and I do the same. So whatever she’s got going on, I’m sure she’ll figure out a way to get out of it. She’s a big girl. She’ll be all right,” I assured her.

Carmen seemed offended. “Damn! It’s like that? I see why she doesn’t fuck with you anymore,” she commented.

“Good! Now that makes two of us,” I said, and then I pressed down on the end button and put the phone back on the base.

I lay back in my bed and thought about what it was that Nikki was trying to tell Carmen. I figured it probably had something to do with a man, so I immediately dismissed the thought and buried my head in my pillow. But then it hit me that I still hadn’t spoken with Fatu, so I slid back across my bed and reached for the cordless phone. I had this nigga on speed dial, so I pressed the appropriate number. His phone rang one time and then went straight to voice mail. My blood pressure went sky high.

“What the fuck is going on with this nigga?” I wondered aloud.

It took everything within me not to slip on a pair of sweats and some sneakers and go look for this nigga. I was known for stalking out a nigga’s spot if I suspected him of fucking around on me. I mean, it wasn’t nothing for me to sit outside a guy’s house for hours on end, especially if my intuition was killing me. But since there was no guarantee that he was even at home, I figured it was best that I chill on out before I went out there and ran into somebody else’s whip out of mere frustration.

I could, however, call the club to see if the motherfucker was there. Bintu answered the phone, and I didn’t hesitate to ask him where Fatu was.

“He’s not here,” he said, his accent really strong.

“Then where is he?” I snapped.

“I’m not sure. I haven’t seen him for a few hours now.”

“Are you expecting him to come back?”

“Well, a couple hours ago he said he was running out and that he’d be back, but he hasn’t shown up yet and the club is about to close.”

“OK, well when he gets back tell him I am really pissed off with him and that he better have a good damn excuse of why his phone is going straight to voice mail.”

“All right. I will relay the message.”

“Thanks,” I said and ended the call.

Once again I had hit a brick wall. This nigga was still out there in them motherfucking streets. And the fucked-up thing about it was that I didn’t know where. Bintu didn’t even know where he was, and that was mind boggling. But it would be all right, because as soon as I got my hands on this nigga, I was going to kill him. I was not going to go through this same shit all over again. I had put up with enough shit from Ricky and his bitches! I would be damned if I went through that mess again. He’d die first.

W
hen Fatu finally called, which was the next morning, he told me he wanted to take me out to lunch. I took him up on his offer because I wanted to meet him face to face when I put his ass on the hot seat. While I sat across from Fatu in Ruth’s Chris, picking at my food, I made little innuendos about him fucking around on me, but he played it off very well. As a matter-of-fact, he acted like he was hard of hearing. I knew better, though, and he knew I knew it too.

See, things had definitely changed between us. A lot of his time was unaccounted for lately. Fatu was always telling me he had this or that to take care of, but it was never anything I could verify. With Bintu and all the other guys running the nightclub, he didn’t have to be there as much, so when I was in the shop late at night, working miracles on my clients’ heads, he had a lot of idle time. A few times the nigga did a couple of disappearing acts. When the shit started happening, it took me back to my days with Ricky. It wasn’t something I took lightly. My instincts told me there was someone else.

I finally looked up from my plate and glanced at Fatu. He was distracted. The pretty Hispanic waitress had stopped to check on us, and as she pranced away from our table I watched Fatu follow her with his eyes.
Would you look at this motherfucker? Does he really think I’m stupid?
I wondered, rolling my eyes in disgust.

At first our relationship had been what some might consider a whirlwind love affair. We use to do everything together and he didn’t spare any expenses, especially when he flew me first class to Cancun for four days. That weekend was so fucking nice. This nigga had us equipped with concierge services and the whole nine. In addition to that, this cat would send me roses on the regular and he’d even cook for me. Now how many cats you know send their girls flowers and cook for them on a regular? Not too many. That’s why I held on to his ass. And what’s really weird is that after only three months of dating, we were engaged. My head told me to be careful, but my heart told me to give it a try. Now I stared across the table at Fatu and wanted to slap the shit out of him.

“What did you say happened to your hand and neck again?” I asked, referring to the deep scratches Fatu had on his hand, and the welts on his neck.

“Kira, didn’t I just tell you that I got into a scuffle with some drunk guy before I left the club last night while me and one of the bouncers were throwing him out?” he asked dismissively, shoveling a forkful of steak into his mouth.

I looked down at my drink, contemplating whether to throw the shit in his face. What it looked like to me was that he and his bitch must’ve had rough sex, and she scratched his ass up.

“Yeah, you told me, but those scratches look like they came from a chick’s nails,” I replied, twisting my lips into a snarl. Fatu didn’t know I’d searched his shit at home and found lipstick on one of his dress shirts a few weeks ago. I didn’t say anything at the time, because all he would’ve done was blame it on a female customer he hugged at the club. I figured I’d gather a little more evidence before I confronted him.