When Saint Goes Marching In (15 page)

“Traci, thank you so much for that introduction. You are wonderful, fun, encouraging and a role model – and just a blessing to know.”

Xenia
looked at the golden trophy she held shakily in her hand. Saint felt the emotion pouring out of her. The award was shaped like a set of headphones and glistened under the bright lights. “I don’t want to give some goofy speech that no one will remember. I want to tell everyone in here the truth, from my heart. Almost six years ago, I disappeared from my career to pursue a new passion of mine. I met the man of my dreams and had a beautiful family. I did think about radio, however. It’s just in me. Everyone in here that is part of this clan, you know what I’m talking about. This is one of the few mediums that has stood the test of time. Magazine sales have dropped, the land-line phone is almost archaic and a record player and even a CD player have waved good-bye in recent years. Radio has lasted like Duracell batteries. Without my fans, my family and my supporters, I couldn’t have made it and been as embraced as I was upon my return. It’s a dog eat dog business yet the arms were wide open for me. I love this job. My re-entry started with a blog and ended with an afternoon show that I co-host with the lovely and talented, Renée Greisher. Our ratings are through the roof and it truly is a blessing. I’m just very fortunate, all the way around and I feel like I’m living a dream. Whoever said we can’t have our cake and eat it too, didn’t know me. Life can’t get any better! Thank all of you!” Xenia said as she blew a kiss to the audience and gave a smile a mile wide.

 Saint stood up with the others and applauded loudly. He put two fingers in his mouth and whistled.

So proud of you, baby.

Xenia
hugged the host and made her way back to her seat. Saint cupped the back of her neck and claimed her lips in a deep, searing kiss. His tongue played with hers briefly before she quickly pulled away and looked around the room. Embarrassment became her.

“Saint, I can’t believe you just did that in front of all these people!” she hissed, when she spotted a few people gawking at them from the neighboring table.

“So what? I love you and I don’t care who sees it. This is the perfect time for PDA!” He took her hand when they settled back to enjoy the rest of the L.A. radio awards show together. After the show concluded, people stood up and began to mill about.

“OK now, Saint. I know you’re a night owl so I hope you’re not mad but I’d like to stay for the after party,” Xenia said as she twirled one of her curls in between her fingers. “I already called the babysitter,” she added, smiling innocently.

“I have insomnia, which makes me a night owl by default. It’s gotten much better though,” he smiled back. “Regardless, baby, whatever you want to do is cool. I like how you sprung this on me at the last second though.” They stood amongst a sea of people and chatter.

“…As long as I can get in those draws later.” He winked at her.

Xenia
placed a hand on her hip and glared at him. “Saint, you have a one-track mind.”

“I can’t help it,” he shrugged, a grin splitting his face.

He embraced her before someone tapped her on the shoulder. Saint slowly waved to her as she drifted further away into a swarming crowd of admirers. He turned away slowly and walked towards the open bar, wanting her to enjoy her moment before people came to him as well, asking questions and requesting autographs. He didn’t want her to have to share the limelight with him.

Let her have this by herself. This is her moment.

 He stood in the line at the bar.

“Pimp, get yo’ ass up here!” one of the bartenders yelled. “This mothafucka right here is mothafuckin’ Saint Aknaten, tha coldest mothafucka! I ain’t hatin’ on yo’ ass, shit, if you got it, you got it. No racism up in this bitch,” he joked.

Saint made his way through the crowd and greeted the bartender who extended his hand and waited for dap. Saint obliged and sat down.

“What you want, man? It’s on me.” The six foot, muscular, dark-skinned bartender with a large gap between his two front teeth grabbed a chilled glass and slammed it on the bar table.

“I’ll keep it simple tonight and get a hynotiq,” Saint said with a slight smile.

“Man, yo’ woman is the truth. Congratulations.” The bartender grabbed the vodka, mixed juices and cognac.

“Yes, she is, thanks.”

The bartender handed the cocktail to him, icy and blue. Saint reached in his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

“No man, this is an open bar for beer and straight drinks but I told you that whatever you got was on the house,” the bartender insisted.

Saint nodded. “Thanks, man.”

“No problem,” the bartender acknowledged before he helped the next person in line.

As Saint stood up to walk around, someone called,

“Saint! Saint, wait!”

He knew that voice. Saint searched the crowd until he found her. Standing three feet away from him was Payton in a short red, one sleeved dress. Saint dropped his head, smiled and shook it.

“Why can’t you leave me the fuck alone?” he laughed angrily as Tyler, the Creator’s song, “AssMilk,” played. “So now you’re following me to my wife’s award show? Are you fuckin’ serious?” Saint imbued his voice with menace.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m here for two of my friends, one of which is the DJ for the Harper Radio show who received an award tonight. I was calling you to apologize. Just forget it!” Payton said as she turned hastily to walk away.

Saint murmured a curse. He knew he’d regret this.

“Payton!” he called out. “Wait. I just assumed you were coming out here to start some shit again.”

He took a sip of his drink and slid his other hand in his pant pocket. Payton walked back towards him and smiled as she sloshed the ice cubes around in her sex on the beach drink.

“Well,” she smiled and looked down into her drink. “I’m sorry, Saint. I really am. What I did wasn’t cool. I respect that you have a wife and kids and have moved on. Your wife looked beautiful tonight, by the way.” Payton grinned as she took a sip of her drink. “I can see what you saw in her. She is exquisite, actually.” She looked away, seemingly lost in thought.

“Thank you.” Suspicion tingled through him as they walked back to the bar. He leaned against it as Payton got ready to say something else. Just then someone else tapped Saint on his shoulder and he quickly turned around.

“Saint!” the jovial voice boomed. It belonged to a short, thin white man with an expensive black suit and dark sunglasses.

“A man!”

Saint set his drink down and grabbed Marcus by the head teasingly. “Marcus, what are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in a minute.” He was pleased to see one of the men who had helped organize one of the first L.A. Rainbeau Conferences. “This is the place to be tonight. All these celebrities, all of these gorgeous Black women! Come on now, I gotta find me a Queen!” Marcus laughed.

“Yeah, you do,” Saint laughed. “Wait a minute, what happened to that one lady you were seeing?”

“Tiffany? Oh man, that was a mess. That woman was…oh never mind,” Marcus laughed. “But I’m going to keep on searching.”

“No doubt, no doubt.”

“Well man, I have to go but it was nice running into you.” Marcus took a few steps back and dropped his gaze on a curvaceous redbone.

“You too, man. Call me sometime!” Saint yelled over the blaring music.

“Will do!”

Marcus disappeared into the fog of people, making his way towards the eye-candy that had caught his attention.

Saint turned back to Payton who still patiently waited.

“Well, I see you’re popular still wherever you go,” she teased.

“I guess. I better get going. Thanks for the apology. I wish you the best, Payton, I really do.” Saint stuck out his hand to shake hers.

Payton looked down at his large hand and begrudgingly shook it. “Before you go, Saint, can you walk me to my car? It’s right out back and I don’t feel real safe going alone.”

“You actually drove?” Saint asked in surprise as he picked his drink back up and took a sip. “You never drive.”

“I know, right?” Payton laughed. “It’s a rental car obviously, but I thought what the hell! You can only live once. I even renewed my license. I’m thinking about buying my own car soon. Anyway, I know you have to go, so I better get going.” She watched closely as he sipped his drink.

“Alright, I’ll walk you to the car but I need to hurry and get back to Xenia. Let’s go.” He allowed her to lead the way. The double doors to the back of the building opened, bursting cooler air on both of their faces. Saint rubbed his eyes, feeling slightly sleepy as he continued to put one foot in front of the other.

“Where’s your car?” Saint asked, noticing his vision begin to look slightly hazy. He stretched his fingers out in front of him, seeing double. Payton stopped walking and gently took his hand. “We’re almost there, baby,” She murmured.

Saint held onto her hand as he rubbed his head with his other hand.

“Something…something isn’t right.” Saint’s voice started to slur. He heard the bass in his voice amplified ten times over in his ears. He dropped his drink; the glass broke and shattered on the concrete as light blue liquid dispersed amongst the shards of glass and slithers of melting ice.

Payton laughed and held him closer. “We’re almost there, baby.”

Her red dress glimmered like it had a million rubies, making her dark, rich skin shine right along with it as if she had been dipped in crushed crystal.

“I gotta…stop…walk…ing,” Saint said as his knees buckled. He slumped down onto the ground, feeling the gravelly rocks poking and piercing his large palms.

“That’s fine, baby. Here, have a seat,” Payton grunted as she used all of her strength to help him through the last few feet to the vehicle that was parked way in the back of the parking lot, next to no other cars. “Sit here.”

She opened the back seat of the bright yellow BMW and helped Saint lie down inside. Saint looked up and shook his head.

“Pay…ton, something isn’t right. I need you…to do me a favor. Call Xenia…for me and tell…her to…to…”

Saint stopped talking. His tongue felt suddenly heavy and thick, and his eyes refused to focus. He could hear his heartbeat beating slowly, as if it were an old grandfather clock.

Payton smiled down at him. Saint heard rustling. He strained to see what was going on but couldn’t move one muscle. Soon, he felt Payton tugging at his pants.

“Whu…” is all he could say initially. “Nuh…No…” he mustered.

Payton pushed his pants and underwear roughly down his legs, past his shoes. She removed his shoes and he heard the thump when she threw them on the car floor. The slightly cool breeze tickled his body from the cracked open car door. Saint’s cell phone vibrated. Payton dug into his pant pocket and pulled it out.

“Oh look, Saint! It’s a text from your lovely Xenia! She is asking, where are you? Isn’t that so sweet?” Payton mocked as she hiked her dress up and slid off her matching red glittery g- string panties, exposing a neatly trimmed triangle of pubic hair.

“Puh…Payton…please…don’t,” Saint begged as he felt her hands on his flaccid dick. She closed the door behind her, locking them inside the car.

“Now that’s a first! You’ve never turned down a blow job,” she laughed. “Saint, I think you drank too much. You’re not thinking straight. You always want to get your knob slobbed, baby…”

Saint felt his eyes roll up to the back of his head. He wanted to scream when her hot, wet mouth closed around his dick and started to slowly suck, up and down.