“I just don’t want to get caught up with anything. Rasheen got a lot of stuff with him, but he is calm, easygoing, and very straightforward. He doesn’t hang out, and he came from a rough childhood to have a decent job.”
Diedre leaned her head back. “Listen to you, sounding like the perfect little girlfriend. He put the thing on you, I see.” She giggled and filled her plate with more salad.
“I’m gonna stop by and talk to him. Maybe I need more info before I decide if I want to stick my head in the sand,” she said.
“Like a reminder of how good that dick is? Honey, he’s gonna fuck the shit out of you that if he had five baby mamas, it won’t matter. Wear your good panties.”
And when she left for Rasheen’s, just in case, Alexis did just that.
LATER SUNDAY, ALEXIS paid Rasheen a visit. He had called once and left a message that he’d wanted to see her.
His place was a small studio-style basement apartment with a tiny kitchen, and a bed in the center. The beige panel walls were bare, with a television and a stereo. The block he lived on was full of children running up and down the street, cursing and chasing each other. A homeless man staked out a corner on top of a garbage can, whistling at women who walked by.
“We gotta talk,” Alexis said, sitting down on a foldout chair near his bed.
Rasheen opened a carton of Chinese food that he had ordered. Alexis wondered where he would eat that because there was no table. “Look, I understand if you don’t wanna fuck with me no more. But I’m willing to do what it takes to make you see it’s not a problem.” He flipped open the ironing board and placed the Chinese food cartons on it.
Alexis was amused that an ironing board could come in so handy.
“Want some?” he said, scooping out some fried rice on his plate. “I know you probably expected a real table.”
“It’s okay. You’re always full of surprises,” Alexis said, stealing one of the broccolis from his chicken.
“My baby mama and I was seeing each other only for like a month before she got pregnant. Now that we ain’t together anymore, she be acting up. But when I have a woman in my life, she knows what time it is.” Rasheen peeled off his T-shirt and threw it on his bed. Is he already trying to show me his prowess? Alexis thought about what Diedre said.
“Does she know we’re seeing each other?” Alexis asked as she tried to take her focus off his bulging biceps. It mattered to her that their relationship wasn’t kept secret—at least, on his side.
He forked up some chicken and rice and beckoned her to open her mouth. She opened and let him feed her.
A moment later, “I’ll be right back,” she said, and went to the bathroom. When she flipped on the light, there was a mop stick posing as a shower rod. She busted out laughing.
“Nothing!” she yelled when he asked what was wrong.
She barely had enough room to move around as she took care of her business. When she came out, Rasheen was gone, but his front door was open. Maybe he went to throw out the garbage or something, she thought.
When his phone rang and he didn’t come back in, Alexis picked it up. The caller ID had a woman’s name on it.
“Let me speak to Rasheen,” said an irate woman’s voice.
“He’s not here now. Can I take a message?”
“Who am I leaving a message with?” The woman said, her tone thick with attitude.
“This is Alexis, and you are?”
“The mother of his three-year-old baby girl, Rasheida,” she said. “What?”
“What?”
“What, bitch? What you gotta say about that?”
Alexis looked at the phone, confused. “I don’t know, and think you better call back later for Rasheen.”
“Bitch, I’m a be right over there in a minute because he promised he’d buy Rasheida her Pampers this time.” And she hung up.
When Alexis looked around, Rasheen had just walked in. “Who was that?” he asked.
“Your baby mama,” Alexis said, grabbing her bag, ready to leave. He stepped in front of her. “Where you going?”
“I’m leaving. That woman sounded insane. And she’s on her way over here,” Alexis said, stepping around him.
Rasheen grabbed her arm. “I want you to stay right here. Kiki’s bark is worse than her bite. She ain’t comin’ over here. She just like fucking with me like that. She got her own man.”
Alexis didn’t move.
“Boo, get over here,” he said, bringing her into his arms. He kissed her lips. “Can you spend the right? We can take the train together in the morning. You can wear one of my boxers,” he said, nibbling on her bottom lip. He ran his hands down her back to her behind.
He walked her to his bed. “Let me show you how much I want you,” he said into her ear.
He removed her blouse, her jeans, her panties, and her shoes. He put each toe into his mouth, no matter how they looked. Though Alexis got regular pedicures, she was still self-conscious. Putting her toes in his mouth, Alexis felt every cell in her body awaken with light. Slowly, he kissed her all the way up to her thighs. He used some honey from his cupboard and smeared it between her legs. But she took it from him and poured it on his hardness.
She poured some on his tip and along the sides. It had been a while since she did that to a man, but looking at Rasheen just brought something out in her. She led her lips to his dick, opening her mouth until the head rested on her tongue. She let him absorb her heat, as she did his, and slowly sucked him in between her lips. He lay on his back and guided Alexis’s head as it bobbed up and down, sucking the life out of him. Alexis absorbed herself in the moment, gagging only once as she locked her mouth around his length. She licked the juices that gathered at the head and smiled at the curiously sweet taste. Rasheen grabbed her, as she carefully guided him inside of her. She rocked her hips back and forth.
“That’s right, boo, take this big, black dick,” he said.
Rasheen sat up on his elbows and tickled her swinging breasts with his tongue, catching them in his mouth when he could.
Baby mama or not, Alexis couldn’t think of anything but the pure satisfaction of having Rasheen make love to her. He made her feel like the sexiest woman alive.
“Damn, this pussy just stays wet. I just wanna suck on that pussy so bad,” he said, and rolled her over. He slid down between her thighs into the sticky wetness, devouring her pussy. Then he slipped inside her again, holding her legs up like the letter V.
“Yes, Rasheen, yes!” Alexis cried out as her legs began to shake. He fixed his eyes on her, taking in every twist and turn of her face, how her body shook beneath him. She didn’t know what she was saying yes to, but she was saying no to another night without him.
ABOUT A MONTH had passed. Alexis still hadn’t told anyone but Diedre about Rasheen. They were a real couple. He had even introduced her to his family at a Memorial Day barbecue at his aunt’s house. She got along with every one of them. She didn’t know she had a little “round the way” girl inside of her and felt completely fine eating from paper plates and cups. Before Rasheen, she wouldn’t even think of it.
Rasheen hadn’t pushed her about her family, because he understood her unique pressure. In the meantime, he played his role.
On Wednesday evening, Alexis came down with the flu. She called Rasheen at work because they had plans for a movie later.
“I don’t think I can meet you tonight. I am sick as a dog with this flu,” Alexis said, sounding miserable. “I’m sorry.”
“You need me to bring you anything?” he asked, concerned. She liked how much he attended to her.
“No, really, I don’t want you getting sick. If you get sick, you won’t be of any good to me,” she said, smiling. “And you’ll miss out on work.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m coming over after work.”
When she was sick as a child, her mother always worried about catching her germs. Her father was usually away on business. She learned to nurse herself back to
health early on.
“Rasheen, I can take care of myself. I am fine.” She blew hard into the tissue. She really didn’t want to be anyone’s burden.
But an hour later, Rasheen was at her door with a bag full of cold medicine, vitamins, and a can of chicken soup and a Subway hero. When she saw what was in the bag, her eyes began to water.
“I didn’t mean to upset you. I just hate to see you sick by yourself,” he said, opening the can of chicken soup.
“I—,” she began, wiping her eyes. “I’m just not used to anyone taking care of me. I usually take care of myself.”
Rasheen kissed her forehead. “I can take care of you, if you let me.” He pulled the covers up to her neck and turned to her favorite channel. While she watched The Apprentice on the couch, she could hear him in the kitchen fixing her meal. In her twenty-nine years, she had never had a man cater to her in such a way. Nannies and chefs were paid to, so it was never the same. She watched Rasheen from the corner of her eye, awkwardly stirring the soup and pouring into one of her fancy bowls. He sat beside her and fed her the soup, spoonful by spoonful. Never speaking a word or asking a question, just keeping his attention totally on her well-being.
“Thank you. I can get used to this,” she said, when she finished eating.
“I hope you do.” He smiled back.
Rasheen spent the night, and for the next three days nursed Alexis to health. He even made love to her on the third day despite her pasty skin, tangled hair, and bad breath. She wondered if she would be able to accept him as he had accepted her.
EVERY JUNE SINCE Alexis was twelve years old, her mother held an all-white summer bash in the Hamptons. She’d hire an event-planning agency to design and decorate the family’s sprawling three-acre house on the beach. Alexis had always wanted to put her creative side to use and work side-by-side with the agency, but her mother insisted that her style was just not up to par with what she was looking for. Instead, her mother allowed her to design the invitations only.
The last two years, she had been attending the family summer soiree with Leonard. This year, she wasn’t sure who to invite. It wasn’t the type of event that one would bring anyone to, because anyone who was anybody was there. Old-money Manhattan socialites, mostly conservative black, affluent politicians and their sons, and distinguished entertainment figures in music and film were on the list. No hip-hop or new-money folks. Alexis did meet a man or two during her seventeen years of attending, but they never seemed to be interested in women like her.
But this year, she was with Rasheen. She figured she’d buy him what to wear, tell him what to say, how to act, how to eat, and then everything should fall into place. Counting the days left to the party, she only had ten to ask Rasheen and get him ready. She did have a choice of just going alone, but that would put her in the position she had always been. She wanted to come with a man. And if anyone asked, Rasheen was a “good friend.”
YOU WANT ME to say what?” Rasheen said, slamming down the Daily News as they sat in her kitchen one Saturday morning after he spent the night.
“If anyone asks you, just say we’re friends. And you’re from out of town and—”
“Da hell I gotta lie for?”
“Because my family will chew you up and spit you out. And me too! It’s a private party, so it’s not big enough that no one will get to talk to us. It’s going to be a big dinner where we all sit around the table and go around and around with stories and conversations,” she said, taking their finished breakfast plates and putting them in the sink.
“So you think I can’t handle that?”
“Rasheen, if someone asked you what college you went to, what would you say?”
“I ain’t go to the college. I went to the school of common sense,” he said, brushing his shoulders off like no one could tell him that wasn’t right.
“If you say that, everyone is gonna think you are a clown. They are expecting to hear Brown, Yale, Columbia, Harvard, and maybe you can skid on by with Howard—just maybe. Alexis sat on the red kitchen countertop. “I went to Barnard, my mother went to Barnard, everyone besides my ninety-nine-year-old great-grandfather all went to college. Your world is not something they can comprehend. They’d think I—”
“You what?” he said, sticking out his chin like he challenged her to say the worst.
Alexis couldn’t look into his face, his thick eyebrows raised, making him look ever more handsome. “That I was out of my mind.”
Rasheen shook his head.
“Anyone my family sees me with, they assume marriage. If they see us together, they will start jumping to conclusions. They’d think you want to marry me for money, or are using me. It would make me look like a fool.” Alexis folded her blue-checkered kitchen towels into neat squares.
Rasheen rubbed his hands together like a whirlwind of thoughts were flowing through his head that he didn’t want to speak.
“What if they ask you if you have kids?”
“I’ll tell them.”
Alexis sighed in frustration. “What if they ask you about your childhood?”
“You know what, Alexis? You think you are all Ms. High Society coming from your family and all, but you just like any woman out there. I seen you with my family, you know how to kick back with regular folks, you like rough sex, you like it when a nigga slaps your ass, call you the nasty names in bed. You like a nigga telling you what to do. You ain’t who you think you are,” he said, standing up. “So I guess we’ll both be fakin’ at this party. I’ll call you later.” He grabbed his keys and left her alone in the apartment.
Alexis couldn’t deny the truth. Though it had been only a few months, Rasheen seemed to have successfully tapped into what she was all about. He saw that wall. The wall of privilege and status that she kept around her as a way to identify herself or separate herself from the average. Rasheen was right. She hated the summer soirees, and she resented her money and status. She thought it made it harder, not better for her to date. She envied Diedre at times because she seemed more real. When she was with men in her class like Leonard or Daxton, she never felt like herself in the bedroom or out of it. This morning, she made Rasheen breakfast and cooked the eggs the way he liked it. She’d never wanted to cook for anyone before.
ALEXIS WAITED FOR hours on Sunday morning for Rasheen to arrive. He hadn’t called, nor was she able to reach him. He was supposed to be coming by to put a new desk in her office, which she rarely used. It wasn’t like him not to at least call or leave a message. She was surprised to see how upset it made her not knowing what he was thinking. She hadn’t felt this vulnerable in a while. Then she took a deep breath and realized that if it was over, then it was over. Maybe he had finally had enough of her crap, she thought.
Just when she was about to call him for the umpteenth time, her phone rang.
“Rasheen! Where are you?” she blasted into the receiver. “If you are planning to dump me, don’t try to be slick about it, just do it—”
“Shut up, please,” he said, sounding stressed. “I had to go pick up my daughter earlier than I thought. It was supposed to be this afternoon. I’m going to have to bring her.”
“Isn’t today supposed to be the day her mother keeps her?” Alexis asked.
“Yeah, but, she taking her out of town next weekend, so I thought it was best for me to see her before she goes.”
“Is there anything I should do?”
“No.” He laughed gently. “We’ll see you in a few.”
Alexis looked at herself in the mirror. She had never been good with kids. They enjoyed pulling on her long hair or making funny faces when she spoke to them. But Rasheida was important to Rasheen, so she was going to try her best.
ALEXIS, RASHEEN, AND his daughter, Rasheida, went to Chuck E. Cheese’s for Sunday brunch. She loved seeing Rasheen and his daughter play together. She saw a side to Rasheen that she thought was only available to her—a sensitive, thoughtful kind of love he poured over his little girl. She felt
privileged to meet his little girl, who was just as friendly and handsome as he was. She saw Rasheen the father, the protector, and possibly the man she wanted a future with.
THE DAY OF the family summer Hamptons party had arrived. Rasheen had on an ensemble that knocked Alexis off her feet. He wore not just a white linen suit, but a hand-sewn, tailor-made linen suit that cleaned up his wash-and-wear style quite well. Alexis wore a long, elegant, white, crystal-embellished, flowing linen skirt and white halter top. She gave Rasheen a quick rundown of table etiquette, which he was willing to listen to, but anything else about how to act and what to say, he wasn’t.
Alexis made her entrance with Rasheen just before everyone sat down for an outdoor dinner on the lawn. Fresh-cut flowers lined the outdoor tables. White-gloved servers walked around with cured salmon, shrimp, chicken satay, barbecued short ribs, and baked clams. Champagne poured into tall, thin flutes as lively conversations flowed.
“Darling Alexis. How are you?” Mrs. Paul said in that familiar tone of pity. “You look exquisite.”
“Thank you.” Alexis beamed and smiled at Rasheen, wanting Mrs. Paul to acknowledge him too.
“So darling, where have you been hiding this lovely face?” Mrs. Paul gingerly moved a long lock of hair off her shoulders. “You know you’re not going to find a man locked inside your apartment,” she warned.
“I’ve been around, just busy. You know how it is, Mrs. Paul,” Alexis said, covering her forehead to block the powerful sun. Alexis was good at small talk, but with each word, Rasheen was growing more aggravated.
“Whatsup, Mrs. Paul. I’m Rasheen,” he said, dropping hold of Alexis’s hand.
“Rasheen,” Mrs. Paul said, clutching her neck as if she was choking. “Is that your last name, son?”
Alexis shook in her heels.
“It’s U-Allah. Rasheen U-Allah,” he said, with quiet pride. “Nice, what does that mean?” Mrs. Paul asked, giving Alexis an eye of worry.
“It’s a Five Percenter name. It means ‘Rasheen is God.’ We believe that all men are gods.” He smiled widely at Mrs. Paul’s supposed interest.
Mr. Satisfaction Page 24
