by Anna Black
“Well,” I said as I squeezed more soap on to my bath sponge. “There is a woman that I have been spending my time with. I wanted to spend time with her and her friends tonight, so I did,” I confessed, and she stopped brushing. I had nothing to hide or lie about.
“A woman?” she said, eyeing me.
“Yes, a woman. I met her a week ago, and she was-” I paused. “Let’s just say that’s why I stayed out late. I’ve been seeing her.”
“Does she know you’re a bad boy? And did you tell her about me?”
“I’m not a bad boy, I’m a grown ass man who just happened to have done some bad boy things. And fuck no I didn’t tell her about you. Why would I, why does any of this matter to yo’ ass?” I said.
She rinsed and then spit. “You know what, it doesn’t. Just tell me where that leaves us since you call yourself dating.”
I laughed. “Trina, there is no us. After all these years, you already know the deal, so don’t start no stupid shit.”
“Wait, you’re talking like this is our last night together,” she said.
“I didn’t say no shit like that. Just be aware that I got my eyes on someone and if she and I become a couple, this shit will cease.”
“Just like that?” she asked.
I shut off the water and then stepped out. “Yes, just fucking like that,” I said and grabbed my towel from the bar. I proceeded to dry my skin and ignored her sniffles. Trina was my ace, and my dick pleaser, but she knew she wasn’t my woman. Over the years, I provided a good life for her, so her tears didn’t phase me.
“So, if she becomes your main chick, where does that leave me?” she inquired.
I chuckled lightly. “That leaves you with a paid in full condo and a nice whip, but no more monthly allowance after next month. And my dick and all access to my house will be revoked,” I said, being honest.
Gabby was wifey material. I didn’t see her as another notch in my belt; she was someone I’d share my life with. Someone that I could possibly give my heart to. I had been thinking about a future with one woman, and maybe even having kids, and Trina wasn’t it. I didn’t know what this crazy attraction for Gabby was about, but I wanted to explore that shit to see if I was genuinely catching the love bug or if it just a crazy phase. Either way, I wanted to see her again and again, so I could figure it all out.
“Wooooowwwww,” she dragged out. “She must be a dime.”
I shook my head and hung my damp bath towel on the hook next to my shower. “Yep, and just right for me,” I said and went over to her. I slapped her ass hard and then said, “Goodnight, and get home safe.” I then turned to head to my bed.
“Excuse me?” she questioned.
I paused and turned back to her. “Excuse me, what?” I said.
“Oh, so now I can’t stay here. I can’t sleep at your place. It’s after four a.m.,” she spat.
It was late, and I wasn’t that cold. “You can stay, but this will be your last sleepover, Trina. And don’t ever fucking show up at my place without notice again,” I deemed and then headed to my bed.
I pulled the covers back, got in, and then pulled the covers up over my naked body. My skin was still a bit moist from my shower, but my sheets felt so fucking amazing against my skin. I wished Gabby was climbing into my bed to lay with me instead of Trina. Man, I couldn’t believe how bad I wanted that woman only after one damn week.
“Fuck,” I mumbled. Then I turned on my stomach and fell fast asleep.
7
Gabby
The ringing phone woke me, but I purposely didn’t answer it. I was too tired, too sleepy and I wondered who thought calling me that early was cool. My closest friends and sisters were out with me the night before, and if either one of them were up and didn’t have a damn hangover, it would be a fuckin’ miracle because they got it in the night before. When the ringing stopped, I was grateful. I pulled my covers closer to my body and willed the sleep monster to return and take me back to the blissful state that I had been in before my rude ass, disrespectful ass phone sounded off.
Dosing back off to dreamland, my phone went off again. I lifted one eyelid just so I could get a look at my clock. Whoever was calling had to have a good reason because if I didn’t answer your ass the first time, that means I didn’t wanna talk to your ass. When I read the digits on my clock, I realized it was after one in the afternoon. My other eye popped opened just to be certain that I read the numbers correctly, and when I focused, it was 1:48pm, almost two o’clock in the damn afternoon.
“Shit,” I grumbled, and then I sat up. I grabbed my phone and rolled my eyes. It was Gloria Jean. My mind instantly wondered had I promised my mother I’d do something for her that I may have forgotten about, and after a few moments, I realized that I hadn’t. “What do you need, mama?” I mumbled to myself and then headed to my bathroom. After I relieved my bladder, I washed my hands and face, then headed to the kitchen. I had to get some coffee into my system, so I headed straight to my coffeemaker. I got it going and then decided to call Gloria Jean back to see what prompted two back to back calls that Sunday afternoon.
“Hey, Momma, good afternoon,” I said after she said hello.
“Well, good afternoon to you too, stranger.”
Confused, I said, “Stranger, Ma, what is that about?”
“Well, I ain’t seen yo’ face in almost three weeks. You were in an entirely different state for ten long years, I’d think you visit yo’ momma more often since you are home now.”
“Mother, please, don’t start in on me. You know school is back in session. I had to spend a lot of time getting my new place unpacked, furnished and functioning. Mama, you drive, why can’t you come to my place?”
Gloria Jean was quiet momentarily, and then she said. “I guess you’re right, darling.”
I almost fell to the floor after hearing those words. “I’m right, Mother?” I said.
“Yes, for the first time in your little thirty plus years. I can visit you too, daughter, so you are right.”
I smiled and did a little dance in place. My mother had never uttered those words to me, and I couldn’t wait to tell my sisters. “How are you, Ma? Do you need anything? I can come by today if you need me to?”
“Nah, I’m good, just hope you come by tomorrow for Sunday dinner. I know you had a lot to do, getting settled in and all. Trust, baby, mother knows you have stuff going on, but you shouldn’t miss Sunday dinner. You’ve been away for ten years. Now that you’re home, I want to spend more time wit’cha, baby, that’s all.”
“I know, Ma, and I will be there for sure tomorrow. Do you want me to bring anything?”
“Nah, just bring yourself. Mama got everything covered.”
“Are you sure, Momma? I can still cook, you know. I remember everything you taught me,” I said, going for my favorite coffee mug.
“Well, in that case, just come by early enough to help your sisters and me. Church will be done by eleven because I’m going to the first service and if you’re here by noon, you can help us get supper ready.”
“I’m there, Momma, for sure.”
“Okay, daughter, and how was last night? Gemma told me about some fine, chocolate, bald-headed man taking you home. She said he was fine as all get out,” she said.
My mouth dropped open, and I shook my damn head. Gemma was the baby, mama’s favorite, and she talked entirely too got’damn much. “Yes, momma, I met someone. It hasn’t been long, and he seems nice. He brought me home, and that’s it. I may see him later for dinner, but that’s it.”
“Is he as fine as Gemma says?” she asked.
I blushed because the word fine was an understatement to describe Gutta. He was the absolute most delectable man that had ever said two words to me, and I was feeling him way more than I cared to share with my mother. “Yes, Mother, he is good looking, very handsome, tall, maybe six-one or two. Bald, full beard, deep-set slanted eyes, broad shoulders and have mercy the man’s arms and chest look painted on,” I s
aid, just letting the words drip from my lips. Our mother always talked about boys and men with us, so that was usual banter.
“Hot damn! Does he have a single father because that sounds like my kinda man?” My momma teased.
“I don’t know all that momma, but he told me that he has three brothers.”
“Three, huh? Hell, I can get my cougar on,” my mother teased.
“Oooooh, ma, you still as fast as can be.”
“I am. Hell, I’m single and older, not dead. And I can still make it hot ya’ know.”
“Okay, Ma, stop. That is too much info.”
“Hell, I can teach you girls a thing or two.”
“Yes, we know,” I said, laughing on the inside. My mother was a Bonafide hot chick.
“Well, daughter, have fun tonight with the new guy. What’s his name?”
“Gabriel,” I said, not daring to say Gutta.
“Aww hell, Gabe and Gabby. I already hear wedding bells.”
“Reel it back, Gloria Jean, we are just sharing meals and getting to know each other.”
“Well, it’s a start. Anything to help you get over that dumb ass, Mario. I still owe him a foot in the ass,” my momma snapped.
“Mother, please don’t. Why you mention his name? I’m trying every moment of the day to just forget him,” I sighed. I had moments when I missed Mario and wished that we had made it, but the reality of it all is he was no fucking good for me.
“I know, darling, but when I see his ass, it’s on like popcorn,” Momma declared.
I chuckled. “Well, Ma, he will be here for the holidays with his family most likely. I’m sure you’ll see him somewhere on the streets or at one of his family’s holiday gatherings. I just hope I don’t.”
“True, because his mother and I are still good friends after all these years. It ain’t her fault that her son turned out to be a damn idiot. Hell, don’t be surprised if I end up on the ten o’clock news and or in jail. Mario’s ass is on my list, and this Gabriel guy is exactly what you need to move on,” she said. She was right, but it was easier said than done. I was really feeling Gutta, but I had to keep my hormones in control. I wanted to love again, yes, I did, but I was terrified of being hurt, so I had to pump my damn breaks.
I was about to reply to my mother’s crazy comment about getting locked up, but my other line rang. I looked at my screen, and it was Gutta. “Mother, I gotta go. I will see you tomorrow. Smooches,” I said in a rush and then I hit the button to take Gutta’s call. I didn’t even give Gloria Jean a chance to say goodbye. “Good afternoon,” I recited with a huge smile plastered across my face.
“You’re up?” he said.
“I am. My mom called and woke me not too long ago.”
“Well, I’m barely moving around. I got up about an hour ago, but still, feel like I need a few more z’s.”
“Well, why don’t you get back into bed?”
“Can’t do that. A brother got shit to do.”
“Shit like what?” I quizzed, being in his business.
“Work. I have to check up on some things.”
“I see. So, how many clubs do you own again?”
“Right now, four, and I have a new spot under construction now.”
“Wow! How did you get into that line of work, if you don’t mind me asking?”
He laughed lightly. “No, I don’t mind, but it’s kind of a funny story.”
“Really? I’m listening,” I said and poured some of the freshly brewed coffee into my mug along with my hazelnut creamer.
“Well, back in the day, I use to dabble in a few illegal activities, nothing cumbersome, but I had my days as a criminal.”
“Wait, is this one of those ‘if I tell you, I’ll have to kill you’ type of scenarios?”
He laughed, “Nah, babe, this isn’t that bad. If it were, trust, I’d never tell you.”
I giggled. “Cool because I love living,” I joked.
“I’d never hurt you,” he said smoothly.
I blushed. “Well, that’s good to know, Mr. Wilkerson.”
“Oh, you remembered my last name, Miss Jackson?” he asked as if he were surprised.
“I did, now tell me how you became a club owner.” The suspense was now driving me crazy since he mentioned some illegal behavior. I was all ears, mainly because I was nosey as hell.
“Okay, I was about nineteen and in my second year of undergrad. I used to sell uppers and downers and shit to college kids, and I used to work for this old dude named Dusty. Dusty was like the richest ma’fucka we knew in the hood because he was the man. Other than the crooked cops that worked for him, no one would know how big and bad Dusty was because he worked in his corner store every day like an average old dude. So, one night I was hanging out with his nephew, Bash, and we were big on fucking Play Station back then. We used to make these wagers and shit. It started out small with a few dollars then a couple hundred here, and then a few hundred. Then it went up to shit like Jordan’s and jewelry; just some old friendly wager type shit. Then it was the ultimate and largest wager, my Mustang and his club.”
“His club?”
“Yes, his club, and he lost.”
“So, you won your first night club in a bet?” I couldn’t believe that shit.
“Well, it was actually a pool hall, my first pool hall that I still own, but that’s what kinda got me into nightlife shit. I got a degree in business management, got a small loan to do the repairs on the place, put in new pool tables and other things that it needed and then it started to be profitable. I then rehabbed another pool hall and acquired my first club. Again, did upgrades to increase the cash flow, and let’s just say now, after sixteen years of doing what I do, I’m opening my next night club in about six months.”
“Oh, wow, that’s interesting.”
“Yes, I just fell into this business. My brother, Malice, has a security company, and they pretty much keep all of my establishment’s drama and violence-free. My brother, Rel, who you met last night, has his own construction company, so we do plenty of business within the family. Lastly, my baby brother, Royal, has two detailing companies and a couple of stand-alone car washes.”
“Wow, so you Wilkerson men are entrepreneurs?”
“You can say that. We mainly have reinvested our money in each other’s company, and we do well,” he said, sounding a bit cocky to me, but I liked that.
There was never anything wrong with a man with money and power. And a man as fine as Gutta could definitely get it. My sisters were right about me needing to get back out there, and Gutta was a happy start, so I smiled to myself.
“Sounds like it,” I said and sipped more of my coffee.
“So, what are your plans for today? How soon can I scoop you up?”
“Not too much but grade papers and get my lesson plan for the week out of the way. I normally do it on Sunday’s, but most likely I’ll be at my mom’s all day tomorrow, so it’s better to knock it out today.”
“That’s right, you are a sexy ass teacher. I’d bet my last dollar that all of those little knuckleheaded boys are crushing on you,” he teased.
“I teach fifth graders, so I don’t think my students see me that way. Maybe if they were eighth graders.”
“Shiiiiidddd, I used to get wood back in the fifth grade,” he said.
I almost spit out my damn coffee. “You are crazy, and I hope not to ever see wood in my class. That would be too much.”
“I’m sure, but I know them lil boys be talking about how Miss Jackson has a sexy ass body,” he continued.
I know why my nipples hardened, and my center quickened at his words. I was hornier than a nun, and I didn’t know how much longer I’d be able to hold out. I wanted him to fuck me until I could barely walk. “Maybe, but I don’t want to know. I don’t need the eyes of little nine and ten-year-old boys on me. That’s some old perverted ass shit,” I said.
“Well, baby, I’m just telling you how little boys think,” he said.
&nb
sp; “And I get it, but I hope to never see them checking me out.”
“You may not pay it any mind, but trust, they do. You are one gorgeous woman, and I can’t wait to see you again.”
“Well, how about you take care of your business, let me knock out my schoolwork, and we talk later?”
“Sounds like a plan, babe.”
“Just holla at me later,” I smiled.
“Will do, beautiful,” he said, and we ended our call.
I made a quick breakfast, ate, and grabbed my school bag. I finished up, and after talking to Gutta again, we made dinner plans. Even though I was dead set on meeting him there, he made it clear that I’d never have to meet him anywhere. When he picked me up, again, he had a driver. I wondered if that’s how he rolled all the time because he never drove. I made a mental note to ask him that question later.
8
Gutta
When we arrived at Eddie V’s Steakhouse, I had to remind Gabby that the driver would get our door when she reached for the handle. After a week of being picked up by my driver and me, she’d still reach for the handle. I thought she’d be used to my driver by then.
“My bad. I mean, I have to get used to this.”
“Stick with me, kid,” I joked with a quick wink, and my door opened. I slid out, then I took her hand to help her out of the backseat. Once inside, we were seated immediately. I watched her eyes dance as she looked around the room.
“Wow, this place is lovely,” she smiled.
“It is, and I was glad they had a table tonight. I wanted to take you to RPM’s, but they had no openings until after ten p.m., and nobody wants to have dinner that late.”
“Yes, that is a bit late, but this place is nice enough. Like all the places you’ve taken me.”
“True, but I’ll definitely make sure we have dinner at RPM’s the next time. I love that place. We’ve been doing things day by day, but now I can start making reservations,” I said, and she smiled with a nod. After our server came to greet us, poured water, and took our wine selection, I complimented my date. “You are so gorgeous, Gabby. I hope you don’t take offense to this question, but how old are you?”
