by Chunichi
I gave my father a big hug. I really did miss him, even though he did so much to hurt me. I told him about everything that was going on at home. He was really bothered that his baby girl was surrounded by such drama. He gave me a long lecture on how I should move to New York so that I could be closer to him and he could protect me.
If I’m gonna end up anything like you, I definitely don’t want to move, I thought.
The next day, I woke up to breakfast in bed. The maid knocked on my door.
“Breakfast, Ms. Devereaux.”
I looked over at the clock and it read 7:00 A.M.
“Come in,” I said, still half asleep.
The maid walked in with a tray that consisted of breakfast, a newspaper, and a carnation. It instantly brought back memories of Cancun.
“Thank you,” I said as she turned to leave. I barely touched the food as I cried. I thought of the wonderful times Vegas and I had in Mexico and how much I missed him. It had been four months since Vegas was locked up and I felt so alone.
Ring, ring . . . ring, ring.
“Who in the hell is calling me so early? I looked at the caller ID on my cell phone. “Carmin. What the hell does she want so early in the morning?” I grumbled. “Hello.”
“C, wake up.”
“I am awake, and what do you want so early?” I said as I plucked the crust from my eyes.
“I’m headed to a video shoot and I want you to meet the artist. I’m on my way to get you now. Get dressed!”
Knowing that putting up an argument would be useless, I dragged myself out of bed and got dressed. Thirty minutes later, Carmin was out front and honking her horn. It didn’t take long for us to arrive at the location of the shoot. It was just as I imagined: cameras, half-dressed chicks, make-up artists, and lots of wannabes.
“There’s Cobra,” Carmin said as she grabbed my arm and pulled me along.
“What up, Carm? Who’s that you got with you?” The dark, bald guy asked in a deep, scratchy voice. I really wasn’t interested in entertaining this guy or his entourage, but I spoke up for Carmin’s sake.
“I’m Ceazia, but you can call me C.”
“Okay. Nice to meet you, C.”
As he was speaking, I noticed one of his boys who stood apart from everyone else. He seemed to be in a deep phone conversation, but he was constantly giving me the eye. I pretended not to notice and walked over to the refreshment table for bottled water. That was the only escape from Cobra. Carmin walked over soon after me.
“So what do you think, girl?”
“I think I’m not interested. But his boy, the one with the dreads, Lakers throwback, and baby blue Pradas . . . he can get it,” I responded.
“Damn, girl, you were watching him like that?”
“Don’t front, Carmin. You know how we do. It doesn’t take but five seconds to do a complete rundown and calculation of net worth, deductions already included!”
“Okaaaaayyyyy!” we both shouted in our best sista girl voices as we gave each other a high-five.
The video shoot was long and tiring. I could have sworn they shot each scene at least ten times. It lasted until ten at night. Afterwards, we all decided to meet at Club Inferno at midnight. The limo brought us right to the front and we walked in. The club was jumping! People were packed shoulder to shoulder as we squeezed our way to the VIP section. We sat amongst Cobra and his crew. I made it my business to sit as close as possible to the dread-wearing brotha from earlier. The waitress brought over bottles of Cristal back to back. That’s when he finally spoke.
“Ya want a drink, gal?”
Oh my goodness! He has an accent! I think I’m in love.
“Aye, do ya ‘ear me, gal? Ya want a drink?”
I was so mesmerized I forgot to respond.
“Yes, I do. I would like a screwdriver,” I said in my most seductive voice as I gave him the eye. It was as if he didn’t even notice as he ordered the drink for me.
“I don’t know what his problem is, but I am the hottest chick in here,” I whispered to Carmin. “He can’t front but for so long. I will have him by the end of the night.”
As the night went on, I did everything I could to get his attention without making it too obvious. I bent over the table to speak to Carmin so that my breasts would be clearly visible. I crossed my legs so that the split in my dress would show thigh up to my hip, and I even started small talk with him first. Nevertheless, he still seemed unmoved. I was finally fed up with this Rasta, so I decided to go find Carmin. In no time, I found her at the bar talking with a few Spanish girls. I noticed one girl staring at me, so I decided to break in the conversation and get Carmin’s attention.
“Excuse me. Carmin, I need to speak to you for a second.”
“Hey, girl! Let me introduce you to my girls. Everyone this is my girl, Ceazia. C, this is Maritza, Chloe, Lachele, and Arizelli.”
Arizelli, Arizelli. Why does that sound familiar? I wondered as I looked at the girl and tried to put a face with the name. She smiled at me seductively. My confusion must have been obvious, because Carmin began shaking my shoulder and shouting.
“C . . . C . . . You all right? What the hell you been drinking, girl?”
That’s when it hit me. Cancun . . . Arizelli. I know it’s a small world, but how the hell did this happen?
“Hellooooo . . . Ceazia?” Carmin was still trying to get my attention.
“Oh, I’m sorry, girl. My head is just spinning. I think it’s from mixing those drinks. I just came over to tell you I’m giving up on the Rasta. For some reason, he’s just not feeling me.”
“What? Nah, there has got to be something up. I’ll be over there in a minute. You need to sit down and sober up a little.”
As I walked away, I noticed Carmin grabbing Arizelli around the waist as they whispered in each other’s ears.
I returned to a seat far from Donovan, the Rasta. I made it a point not to notice him or acknowledge his presence at all. Then, just as the night was starting to get boring, the DJ began to play reggae and the party was on.
“Come down, selecta!” I heard a voice yell.
It was Donovan, and he was once again turning me on. Each time the DJ played a rhythm the crowd liked, Donovan would throw his fingers up and yell, “Buk, buk, buk, buk,” while banging his Guinness bottle against the table.
I was feeling nice and having a ball. When the DJ played Sean Paul’s “Gimme the Light,” I jumped to my feet and started to wind. Everyone stared as I moved to the West Indian tunes. Out of nowhere, someone came behind me and began to dance along. I turned around and smiled when I realized it was Donovan.
“Ya dance like a yahd gal,” he whispered in my ear.
I did it. I finally did it. If I had known all I had to do was wind, he would have been mine a long time ago, I thought as I continued to dance even more seductively.
“Thanks, but no yardie taught me these moves,” I said as I walked out of my wind and into the steps of Spragga Benz. Dancing was my drop, so if that’s what he wanted, then that’s what I was giving. I did every dance move I could think of. By the end of the night, he was eating out of the palm of my hand.
“Dancehall princess, come ‘ere. I want ta speak wit’ ya,” he said as I took a break to sip on my drink. I sat beside him.
“Dancehall princess?” I questioned.
“True. Ya move dem crowd. It’s like a wicked spell.”
“Oh, that’s what it is?” I responded sarcastically.
“I not know the trickery of ya Creole gal. You wind up me heart with that evil art.”
Listening to Donovan was like interpreting Shakespeare, but I did well with my interpretations.
“Are you insinuating I used voodoo to put you in a trance through my dancing?”
“Ya, mon. I notice at first glance ya to be wed, so I stand clear. But now, like a magnet, you’re near.”
I don’t know if it was the drinks or what, but the more he talked, the more he sounded like a reggae song.
I had to clear my head, so I excused myself.
“I’m sorry, but I’m feeling a little sick. I’m going to get a bottled water.”
“Take dis, keep da change.”
I walked away and headed back to the bar. As I got closer, I could see Carmin still chatting with Arizelli. She kissed her on her lips and began to walk in my direction.
Oh my goodness, Carmin is gay! What do I do? Does she know I just saw that? I don’t know if I’m ready to have this conversation with Carmin. But before I could decide what to do, Carmin and I were face to face.
“Hey, girl. I thought you were going to come back over to VIP with me earlier,” I said nervously.
“Well, reggae came on, so I knew you would be fine. How long have you been standing here?”
“Not long. I mean, I just started walking this way.”
“Ceazia,” Carmin said as if she knew I was lying, “follow me. I need to introduce you to someone.” We headed back toward the bar with the same girls.
“Okay, Carm, I think you had too much to drink now. Ummmm, you introduced me to all these girls earlier,” I said.
“I know, but I really need to explain some things about one girl in particular.”
Once we reached the bar, she grabbed Arizelli by the hand and we all went back to the VIP section. To my surprise, Cobra and his crew all knew Arizelli. This was getting weirder by the minute. We all sat down and Carmin began to explain.
“Ceazia, Arizelli is more than just a friend to me. She is my lover.”
“Lover? As in you-are-gay lover? Or you’re just-curious-so-let’s-try-this lover?” I asked.
“I’m not gay, C. Nor am I just curious. I love Arizelli and I am bisexual,” Carmin said with confidence.
Now, how am I supposed to tell Carmin that not only me, but me and Vegas both, had sex with her lover? I pinched myself to see if I could wake from this nightmare. Damn, I’m not dreaming. I’m awake.
“C, what’s wrong? Do you have a problem with my sexuality?”
I guess I was thinking a little too long.
“Nah, girl. Do you? You’re my girl. I’m going to love you regardless of your sexuality. But just explain why.”
“C, I could no longer continue being second. No matter how hard I tried or what I did, I was never going to be number one in my previous relationship. When Arizelli came along, I was number one. She loved me unconditionally, and she gives me all the attention and affection I could ever want or need.”
I reached over and hugged her. As we hugged, Arizelli licked her lips and blew me a kiss.
“It’s cool, Carm. I love you, girl.”
“Thanks, C. I love you, too. Let’s keep this just between us for now. Okay?”
“Okay.”
A while later, the club began to clear out, so we said our good-byes and went our separate ways.
Chapter 14
Thanksgiving with the Addams Family
“Rise and shine,” the maid said as she knocked on the door. Again, I was greeted with breakfast in bed. I ate the fruit as I thought about the previous night.
Carmin is lovers with Cancun Arizelli. Wait until I tell Vegas. Even worse, I think Arzelli still wants me. Or maybe she wants Vegas because she never really got a taste of the dick. Do I tell Carmin or not? If I tell Carmin, then my secret is out, but if I don’t, then it’s like I’m betraying her. How did I get myself in this one?
“Knock, knock.”
“Yes.”
“Good morning, honey. Can I come in?”
“Sure, Dad. Come on in.”
My dad came in and sat at the end of the bed. “We have a long day today. I want to start the day off with church service. Then, we’ll eat about three. How does that sound?”
“That’s fine, Daddy. I promised Carmin I would go to the Thanksgiving celebrity fashion show with her tonight, though,” I explained to my dad.
“Hey, I have tickets to that. Maybe your mother and I will go too.”
“That’s stepmother, and I think I’d rather go with Carmin.”
With nothing left to say, my dad left and began to prepare for church.
Church service was long and boring. It was nothing like the down-home Baptist services that I was used to. I couldn’t believe this woman changed everything about my dad, from his attire to his religion.
Dinner was served shortly after we returned from church. The table setting was beautiful. The room was dim, with candles lighting the table. There was enough food to feed a village in Africa for at least a month. At the table were my father and I, the wicked witch, and a few of her family members. My dad and I were outnumbered even in his own home. A pianist played classical music as we ate dinner and the butlers stood at each end of the table waiting to move on command. I found this all quite humorous.
“Darling, what is so funny?” the gold digger asked.
“Nothing. I was just thinking to myself.”
“Why don’t you tell the family about your little business you run in Virginia?” Like always, she was trying to make me look like I was nothing.
“If you are referring to the chain of laundromats I own, I will be more than happy to share,” I responded.
I told them all about how we started with only one facility that we remodeled and how in a matter of months we nearly owned one in each of the seven cities. The family seemed rather interested in my success. When I finished my story, blondie’s mother stepped in.
“Oh my, that is a wonderful success story. I love to hear about underprivileged black kids who grow up and make something of themselves, like you and your father.”
My father must have seen the steam rise from my head because he quickly intervened. “Mother, you are out of line. My child has never been poor.”
That’s it! All of them have pissed me off now! Dad was only offended by the suggestion that I was poor? What about the generalization of black people? I thought as I tried my best to bite my tongue. Only five seconds passed, but I could no longer do it. I had to respond.
“I have had it with all of you! Dad, you are a poor excuse for a strong black man. You’re the reason our black youth have no male role models. And to the wife and mother blondie, neither of you have ever accomplished anything in life. It’s like you were raised to seek men who are well off so you can sit on your uneducated, Southern belle asses. I’m out of here. Dad, you can have your so-called family!”
I stormed to my room and immediately called Carmin. The nerve of those people, I thought as I dialed Carmin’s number.
“Hello.”
“Carmin, it’s C. Come get me, girl.”
“Okay. What’s wrong?”
I told her all about the dinner conversation as I pulled out something to wear. I needed something cute yet funky, so I pulled out my black Manolo Blahniks, tight-fitting fatigue pants, and a black shirt designed by Carmin. The shirt emphasized my breasts and showed plenty of back and stomach. I made sure I pulled the drawstrings on the pants just above the top of the boot, and I threw on just the right accessories to complement the soldier theme.
“Ceazia!” My dad shouted as he stood at the bedroom door.
“I don’t want to talk. Leave me alone.”
He entered the room anyway. He tried hopelessly to explain away the incident that had occurred during dinner. I ignored his weak excuses for his so-called family and continued to prepare for the night. My dad noticed my inattentiveness and became quite agitated.
“Do you hear me talking to you?” he asked angrily.
I could no longer take it. I had to tell my dad how I truly felt. I’d been holding my tongue for years and it was finally time to let go.
“Yes, father. I do hear you. I hear all the tired excuses you’re giving for your family, for your actions, and for their actions. Well, I’m really not interested in any excuses. I’d rather know your reason for leaving me and mom. Or your reason for leaving me to fight on my own after college. You’re quick to tell me that Vegas is not the guy for me, but he�
��s the one that’s been there for me for the last couple years. He’s been doing all the things that you used to do. I don’t know what happened dad, but you’ve truly changed and I really wish I could have my daddy back.” Those were my last words before grabbing my coat and heading toward the door.
My father did not respond. He just sat in disbelief with his head down. I guess he’d never taken the time to examine the affect the divorce had on me.
Carmin was out front in no time. I jumped in her truck and we headed for the plaza where the fashion show was being held. It was chaotic getting to the front row seat Carmin had reserved for me. I sat amongst Cobra and his crew once again. I was disappointed that Donovan was nowhere to be found.
“What up, C?” Cobra asked as he looked up and down my body.
“Chilling. What about you?” I sat one seat away from him. I refused to be right underneath his annoying ass.
The music blasted as the first model walked out. Carmin had really outdone herself this time. The outfits the models wore were the shit! I was so into the show I didn’t even notice someone had taken the seat next to me.
“Whattem,” I heard a pleasing voice in my ear.
“Donovan. What’s up, baby?”
“Ya save da seat ’ere for me, gal?” he asked as he licked his sexy lips. Just his presence was making me moist.
“Not exactly, but if you would like to sit here, that’s fine.”
We continued to watch the show as the crowd went wild. In no time, the show was over and I headed to the back to meet Carmin. On the way, I stopped by the concession stand to purchase a dozen roses.
“You did great, girl!” I rushed over, gave her a hug, and handed her the roses. I had no idea Carmin was doing such great things with her career.
“Thanks, girl. I put a lot into this show. So you really enjoyed it?”
“Sure did,” a voice said before I could respond. To my surprise, it was Arizelli.
“Hi, baby,” Carmin said, excited to see her bisexual mate. They greeted each other with a small kiss.
“What up, Carm? That shit was hot!” Cobra said as he walked over with his entourage. I was really beginning to get irritated when Donovan caught my eye. I gave him my most seductive glance then turned to Carmin and finished our conversation. I was sure to give him just enough attention to turn him on, but not so much that I looked desperate.
