The Hearts We Burn

by Briana Cole

  I stood back, admiring my work. Had to admit, I still had it though. My hair had grown long enough for me to be able to pull it into a loose bun with simple strands cascading down the sides of my face. I was smelling good, looking good, and even feeling good despite the news Leo had dropped on me last night. I would deal with that later. One day at a time. And for now, I needed to be focused and alert. If I played my cards right, maybe, just maybe I could get myself out of this predicament and none of that ‘moving to Africa’ mess he revealed would even matter to me.

  But the other part, and I had to admit this was almost outweighing the excitement, was fear. I had been able to give Lupé the note this morning. Because Leo seemed to be scrutinizing my every move, I had resorted to writing the note while I was in the tub and hiding it in the pocket of my robe. I had tried to appear as casual as possible, swallowing bits of the fresh omelet I had been too nervous to taste for breakfast while sneaking looks at the security monitors to see if Lupé’s car was pulling up to the gate.

  Finally, Lupé had arrived and I told her to come with me to check on the boys. Then, since Kareem was up my ass as usual, I had to slip the note in her purse the moment we stepped in the room. With luck, she would find it while she was in the store and get the message back to Atlanta. At least that’s what I was praying for. It seemed like it would work. No, should work. Then why was I so afraid?

  Because I didn’t know who I could trust, I admitted. After everything I had gone through, it was hard to say which side people were on. If word got back to Leo about my little escape attempt, well, I shuddered to think what he would do. So, basically, I was functioning on hopes, faith and prayers here. And a splash of alcohol as needed.

  Speaking of which, I grabbed my drink from the dresser and knocked back another glass of merlot. My third one. I was on edge and the wine was doing nothing to ease my anxiety.

  Lupé had never returned from her store run this morning. The items she had picked up were delivered earlier this afternoon by some errand boy that Leo seemed to know. As hesitant as I was, I finally got up enough courage to ask, considering the boys had been looking for her too.

  Leo just shrugged it off. “She said something about going to the hospital to visit her sister,” he said. “We’ll check on her tomorrow. Amora is going to come by and babysit the boys tonight,” he added, referencing one of his dad’s wives. I didn’t remember which one she was but that wasn’t my concern right now. I just hoped by hospital, she meant post office to send off my letter. And I hoped like hell Lupé didn’t go running to the police. The kind of pull that Leo, and even his father, had around here, I couldn’t trust officers either. No, that letter had to get home. That was the only way I could be sure everything would be done to find me.

  But no Lupé today, so no news. I would have to wait until she came over in the morning. And pray like hell this was the beginning of the end as Saida Owusu.

  I glanced up from the vanity mirror just in time to see Kareem open my bedroom door. I whirled around then, a slew of curses already on my tongue about his abrupt invasion of my privacy. But I could only stare.

  I had never seen the man outside of a sweat suit or black jeans and a t-shirt. But damn he could wear the hell out of a Hugo Boss. The suit hung just right on his body, as if it were personally tailored to accentuate every bend and angle in his frame. Of course, it was his signature color, black with a crisp, white collared shirt underneath. He had apparently gotten a fresh haircut too, his beard thick and rich like some kind of pristine muzzle that had me staring entirely longer than I intended.

  The glint in Kareem’s eyes was one of amusement and embarrassment; I rose to cross to my closet. Anything to get the oxygen circulating in my lungs again.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  I turned then, tossing an absentminded gesture to his outfit. “Why are you all dressed up tonight?”

  Kareem frowned. “I thought we were going to dinner.”

  Now it was my turn to frown. “No, I’m going to dinner with Leo. You’re not invited.”

  “You sure about that?”

  But I wasn’t sure. Kareem had obviously gone through so much trouble to get suited and booted tonight, but for what? And now he had the nerve to stand here grinning at me like I was the butt of some kind of joke. Was I missing something?

  Slightly flustered, I stormed to the door, ignoring the cologne that smelled of delicious fresh mint and cinnamon, and descended the stairs. I couldn’t be sure but I felt like I almost heard Kareem chuckling as he followed close behind me. Damn him.

  Leo was at the bar and immediately turned when he heard me enter the massive living room. His eyes lit and he took me in from head to toe. His lips peeled back into an approving smile.

  “You look radiant, my love.” As customary, he took my hand and kissed my palm.

  “Thank you,” I struggled with a smile myself. “Leo, didn’t you mention dinner would just be us tonight?”

  “And Naomi,” he added.

  I nodded. “Yes, of course. And Naomi. That’s it, right?”

  Leo started to nod, then as if remembering, he lifted his eyes to the man who hovered so close behind me. Too close for comfort.

  “Ah yes, I thought it would be a good idea if Kareem came along.”

  I pouted. “But why?” I knew I sounded like I was whining, but dammit I was whining. Kareem wouldn’t do anything but watch me the entire time. It was uncomfortable enough. How was I going to get away then? Plus, and this I didn’t want to admit even to myself, he was a distraction. I hadn’t noticed so much before but my body was certainly noticing now.

  Leo handed me a glass and clinked it against mine. “Relax, my love,” he said, kissing my forehead for reassurance. “We are all going to go out and have a great time. Can we do that?”

  I frowned into my drink and again, felt Kareem’s eyes staring into my back. I couldn’t bring myself to turn and face him but I would bet my life he was gloating like hell.

  I opened my mouth to voice my objection but saw Leo’s eyes had again shifted from me to someone behind me. This time I did turn and saw Naomi enter the room, looking unbelievably stunning in a beaded mini cocktail gown. She had piled her hair into a high, messy bun and accentuated her dress with subtle jewelry at her ears and wrists. Sensing all attention was on her, she stopped and did a twirl, exposing the deep cutout back and her sculpted calf muscles.

  She looked good. Okay, she looked damn great. I felt my self-consciousness creep up a little because standing beside her, I felt like the older woman, trying to be young and sexy.

  For a brief moment, I caught a whiff of déjà vu. Only this time, I was Tina and Naomi here, she was me. Did she really know what she was getting into? Was she prepared to handle the consequences? Lord knows if I could turn back the hands of time . . .

  “My world,” Leo side-stepped me and opened his arms to greet Naomi. I took note. I was his love. She was his world. Interesting.

  Naomi nearly leapt into Leo’s embrace, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him passionately. No, of course she didn’t know what was she getting into. She saw Leo and saw dollar signs, just like my stupid ass.

  “I missed you sweetie,” Naomi crooned in her baby voice.

  “I always miss you,” Leo said. He kept his arm around Naomi’s tiny waist and turned to me, holding out his hand. I obliged taking hold of his and stepping into his embrace as well.

  “Naomi, meet Saida. Saida, Naomi.”

  I nodded as Naomi’s smile widened. “So glad to finally meet you,” she said. “I’ve heard so much about you. You’re so pretty.”

  Well, this was certainly awkward. As fake as it was, I smiled for lack of anything better to do.

  “Leo said you know how to do makeup,” she went on. “And yours looks so good. Can you please do mine?”

  I hesitated, not really sure how to respond.

  Leo spoke up for me. “
Of course she can. You don’t mind, do you my love?” He eyed me as if daring me to object. Keep the peace, keep the peace, was all I could tell myself. The quicker we could get this over with, the quicker we could be on our way. And maybe, if I showed my compliance, Leo would be more trusting of me going out in public.

  “Of course I would love to,” I said. And for good measure, I added, “It shouldn’t take too long. You really don’t need much.”

  Naomi let out a little squeal and surprised the hell out of me when she folded me into a hug. “Oh thank you! You are so sweet. Leo, I love her already.”

  She kissed Leo again and led me to the huge master bedroom behind the staircase. So this was where he had her staying. The room was majestic and took up nearly half of the downstairs square footage. Across the canopy king bed and even on the floor, Naomi had thrown several dresses, evidence she’d had a hard time picking her attire for the evening. The entire room smelled like her, orange blossom.

  “I really appreciate this,” Naomi said as she stepped out of her shoes and headed to the bathroom. “I can’t do a lick of makeup. Never have. Not even in high school.”

  I glanced behind me, surprised when neither Leo nor Kareem followed. Good. Maybe this little girl time would work out in my favor. For extra measure, I closed the double French doors and followed her.

  “No offense, but you look like you’re still in high school.”

  For some reason, Naomi found that hilarious. “Aw, thank you so much. Why would I take offense to that compliment?”

  She plopped down on the bench in front of the mirror and gestured to the large spread of makeup and brushes scattered across the marble counter. Most had never even been opened, but the brands let me know this was all top-shelf cosmetics. “Leo let me go shopping,” Naomi explained. “So I just went to the store and asked the saleslady what I needed to buy. As you see, I’m new to all this.”

  I picked up the primer and removed the cap. But as much as I loved it, makeup was the last thing on my mind. Here again, I didn’t know if I could trust this woman. She seemed so wild and carefree. And it was obvious from their interaction that she adored Leo. So wouldn’t she be in his corner despite what I told her?

  “So how did you meet Leo’s father?” I started, beginning to apply her makeup. “He presented you at Leo’s birthday party so I’m assuming you’ve known him before?”

  “I met Obi a few weeks ago. I was waiting tables and he sat in my section. He made me laugh and I thought he was just the sweetest man.”

  I frowned. So what? She was just looking for a sugar daddy or something? Why would this sexy thing come on to Obi Owusu, unless she smelled the money?

  “So he said he wanted to introduce me to his son. I said sure. I haven’t been having much luck in the dating field.”

  “So, how much do you know?” I pressed, trying to make my questions appear like casual girl chat.

  Naomi tossed me a questioning look.

  “Like, about me,” I clarified, quickly. “Me and Leo. Us. This whole thing.”

  Naomi shrugged. “A little I guess. He told me Leo had a wife but was looking for someone else too. I asked if he meant you two were looking for somebody to have a threesome with.”

  I shook my head. This girl, here.

  “I mean, you never know nowadays, right?” she went on. “Or if y’all were swingers or were into some Fifty Shades of Grey kind of kinky stuff, you know.”

  “And what did Obi say?”

  “He said it was nothing like that. That his son was looking for another partner in a poly relationship.” Naomi’s shoulder lifted in a careless shrug. “I said sure, why not. How bad could it be?”

  I had to pause so Naomi didn’t feel my hands shaking on her face. How bad could it be? How about murder, down-low men, kidnapping, faked deaths, crazy lovers, and physical abuse, just to name a few. Hell, I had even done a little stint in jail after I’d been framed for trying to kill Leo. Oh, it could be really, really bad.

  “You know, I wasn’t sure if I could do it,” Naomi said. “Like, be his wife while he goes out to get other women. You’re strong, Saida. I hope I’m as strong as you. Does it get any easier?”

  It wasn’t what she meant, but I had to agree. To endure all of this, I had to be strong. If only for my kids. But, easier? That was certainly a loaded question. Had any of this really been easy at all? “No,” I said simply and left it at that.

  I finished her face in silence, letting Naomi ramble on and on about whatever. By the time I was done, I had learned naïve little wife number two wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. She didn’t have much family with the exception of a half-sister she barely spoke to and a dad who was always too drunk to notice she wasn’t doing anything with herself since she barely graduated high school. She had moved to Texas from North Carolina to be with some boy she met online, but it turned out she had been catfished. And because she really didn’t have the money to go back home, not that there was much of a home to return to, she settled for a little waitressing job and paid some girl she met on Craigslist $75 a month to crash on her couch. She loved to party, that much was certain. For her to be twenty-six, she spoke about clubs and parties like she was still in college. Had I been like that? I couldn’t help but wince at the comparison.

  So, when Obi had been seated in her section at The Capital Grille restaurant, she had jumped on the opportunity because, in her eyes, she had hit rock bottom and it was only up from here. Classic damsel in distress and here comes the African knight in shining armor.

  “I need your help,” I blurted out suddenly.

  Naomi frowned and it was clear I had interrupted whatever she was talking about. Proof I was no longer listening to a word she was saying.

  “With my makeup?” she said with a laugh. “Girl I told you I can’t—”

  “No. I need you to get me out of here.”

  The door startled us both and I turned as Leo crossed the bedroom and entered the bathroom. He looked first to me, then Naomi. I held my breath. Had he heard something?

  When Leo looked to Naomi and grinned, I could do nothing but sigh in relief. “Beautiful,” he said. “Both of my women. I’m so in love.”

  Naomi hesitated a moment longer before turning on the stool to look at my work in the mirror. Her eyes met mine in the mirror, her expression unreadable. Then, she too smiled. “I love it,” she said. “Leo was right. You’re like an artist with makeup.”

  “Thank you.”

  Leo held his hands out and we each took one. “Shall we go?”

  Chapter 7

  Adria

  I shouldn’t have felt guilty. It wasn’t like this was special or anything.

  I did a small turn in the mirror, observing the way the fabric hugged my curves and was short enough to show an ample amount of leg. The heels only further accentuated the muscles in my calves and the little pieces of jewelry I’d added to my ears and neck further solidified what I didn’t even want to admit to myself. Yeah, I had every reason to feel guilty.

  Of course I hadn’t meant to keep seeing Barlow. The way I saw it, our little arrangement was merely business. He had something I needed and hell if that meant me having to spread my legs to allow him his fill so I could have a steady supply streaming, then so be it.

  Tonight was no different. He’d invited me over for some kind of party. I didn’t plan on going to mingle or any of that. I was going to pick up my prescription and then I could come back home. Period. The fact that he was making a special request about my attire, well was that really a big deal? So what if he wanted to see some legs? They were one of my best assets I had to admit. And if I could use them to my advantage, well then why not?

  I had to keep telling myself why I was involved in the first place. It wasn’t for the sex. And it damn sure wasn’t for Barlow. I don’t know, I guess a part of me felt satisfied. Not necessarily happy, satisfied. I remember once I had asked Kimmy what the difference was, back when she first told me why she was doi
ng what she was doing when she got involved with Leo in the first place. I couldn’t understand it. Not then, but now . . . wasn’t I justifying my actions with the same excuse? Did it really matter that I wasn’t happy, as long as I was satisfied? Because at the end of the day, if it meant I wasn’t depressed, that I wasn’t wallowing in my grief and self-pity, wasn’t that a good thing? Hell, that’s what everyone seemed to want. Especially Keon.

  The thought of my husband halted my movements. He was out. Again. Was I really surprised? I had seen so little of him that I often wondered if we were even still married. Just my luck one day I would have someone knocking on my door to serve me some divorce papers. Then where would that leave me?

  I took another long, hard look at myself in the mirror. I no longer saw the woman I used to be. I looked older, more fragile, hell my hair didn’t even have the same volume that it used to. Could I really blame him for his lack of interest? For his stepping out on me, again? The medicine made me feel better on the inside, well better than how I felt without it, but on the outside it was clear it was damaging my appearance.

  I crossed to the bathroom and pulled open a drawer. Even the makeup looked foreign. I hadn’t bothered to use any of it in a long time. Did it really matter how I looked? Just seeing all the cosmetics immediately had my mind turning to Kimmy. Makeup was her thing. I had been the businesswoman between us. The levelheaded, sensible one. Now look at me.

  Still, I popped open a lipstick tube and spread the color across my lips, watching the fire red hue pop against my ashen skin. I then moved to my eyes, spreading a little color over my lids since my dress was a sheer black. I stepped back, admiring my work. I didn’t do much. I was damn sure no Kimmy Davis with the makeup. That girl had been like a magician. Still, this would do.

  I had driven this route to Barlow’s trap house too many times to count in the past few weeks, down to the point where I even knew the hustlers on the corners along the route. Barlow had made my position with him clear to his homeboys. I was his, what did he call me? His Lil’ Thick? Whatever the hell that meant, it was enough clout so no one bothered to mess with me.