“Not at all, I was calling to tell you I’m looking forward to tonight and to bring a few changes of clothes because I’m hoping that you planned on staying the weekend. And besides, I’m not taking no for an answer. I won’t feel comfortable letting you drive all the way home on the other side of the park,” Michael teased.
“I was hoping you would say that. Oh yeah, and Michael?”
“Yes, Kennedy?”
“Thank you so much.”
“For what? I haven’t done anything yet.”
“Yeah, I know. I was thanking you for later. Just in case I get so caught up that I forget to say it. See you soon.”
“Kennedy, one more thing. You don’t need to drive. I’m sending a car for you at 7:30. Is that okay?”
“That’s fine. I hope you’ll be in it. Bye.”
Damn, he gave her the chills. She had never met a man like him. Besides being wealthy, nice, and intelligent, he was handsome as hell, childless, never married, and had the body of Adonis. What more could a woman want? Totally absorbed in him, she knew not to let him know that. Her parents had raised a daughter, not a fool. “The more someone knows about you the more they can hurt you,” she could hear her father saying.
“Kennedy, I’m out,” Derrick yelled from downstairs.
“All right, I’ll see you later. Page me tomorrow and maybe we can have lunch sometime later this week, okay?” Kennedy replied through her half-shut door.
“That’s cool. How about Sunday?”
“Nah, Sunday’s not good because I’m leaving tonight for a few days to give the H.S.I.H. some freak time and I won’t be back until Sunday.”
“H.S.I.H.? What’s that mean, and where are you off to this time? It’s only Thursday. What is it, no let me guess, no work tomorrow, right?” Derrick asked.
“Number one, H.S.I.H. stands for hot sister in heat, and number two, you are a genius for remembering that I do not work on Fridays. Where I’m off to is a matter of my circumference, which means my personal space, which in turn means my business and not yours, and number three, I love you always. Kiss, kiss.”
“Kiss, kiss to you too. Make sure you call me tomorrow or tonight if whoever he is acts up, got it?” Derrick responded, laughing.
“Screw both of y’all,” Simone yelled.
* * *
Kennedy locked her door. She had no time for any more interference and Simone, Ms. Queen of Nosiness, would be intruding soon. She was running real late. It was already six o’clock and Kennedy wasn’t even close to having it together. “All these clothes and I can’t even find a damn thing to wear!” she said. “A fine man will make you lose your mind.”
Finally settling on a black satin chemise set and a red one just in case, she had her bedtime ensembles together. No need for nighties and whipped cream this trip, she didn’t want to scare the man. She also chose some Chanel silk lounging pajamas, a little black, knock’em-out-every-time Prada dress with matching high-heeled sandals, a couple of suits by Katharine Hamnett and Dimitri that had cost her an arm. And of course, she chose her Guess jeans that made her butt look like an angel had molded it. And she couldn’t forget her Sean John shirt that she couldn’t do without. She hadn’t opted for anything by Liz Claiborne because her clothes weren’t made for women of color and they made her butt look like an ironing board. And with a couple of pairs of shoes, one pair of sneakers, and her Victoria’s Secret bras and panties (although she probably wouldn’t wear the panties), and toothbrush, she was all set.
If Michael thinks he’s tasted a piece of heaven, just wait till he feels what it’s like to enter the golden gates tonight, she thought.
~ 3 ~
Simone put the final touches on the apartment. With the wine and champagne chilled and the food just about done, all she had to do was slip into her clothes and touch up her makeup, although she barely wore any. Tonight was going to be the night, with any luck. She was absorbed in work, she could never find the right man. Being the VP of an accounting firm took a lot out of a person. But she had to get her act together. She didn’t want to go back to where she came from, being poor and in the ghetto, down and out and stuck for life.
Her parents had fought long and hard so that she and her brother and sister did not have to struggle as they had. Being from the South, her white mother and black father weren’t accepted and therefore, denied. Her mother’s wealthy family had disowned her for marrying a black man. Her father’s family, regular hardworking people, didn’t have enough to help out. Or maybe they just wouldn’t help. It had never really been discussed. Simone and Derrick remembered what being poor and alienated felt like, but Kennedy was too young to be scarred. Their mother’s taking ill, dying of cancer, had squeezed almost every cent that they had. When she passed away when Kennedy was just about seven, the funeral and burial had left them penniless.
A year or so later, a lawyer knocked on their door and told them that they were receiving a large inheritance. Their mother’s parents had died in a car wreck and in their last will and testimony they had left everything to their grandchildren, of which they were the only ones because their mother had been an only child.
Simone snapped out of her thoughts and went upstairs to get ready. Kennedy was blasting some song by D’Angelo. Kennedy, a D’Angelo fanatic, was hopelessly faithful to him despite how many wanna-be clones came out each year. Jealous fools this and player haters that, was all Simone heard from her.
“Kennedy, turn that music down!” Simone yelled through the bathroom door.
“Girl, please, I’m in the shower getting my groove on with D’Angelo. I’ll be out and out of your way in a minute, all right?”
“Yeah, you can take the girl out of the ghetto but you can’t take the ghetto out of the girl. Just hurry up.”
“Simone, you can’t rush perfection, slow down. And that’s right, sista love, I got soul in these bones and it shows. Jealous? I’m not trying to fool or impress anybody. Just because you put on a front with your colleagues, you can’t fool me. I know you and you come from the same place I came from—the ghetto. Now get to know it. Get to know yourself!” Kennedy said as she sauntered, clad only in a bath towel, and walked right past Simone as if she wasn’t there.
“Now here you go again trying to give me a lesson in Blackness 101. Honey, I know more about the ghetto than you’ll ever know.”
“Why, because you remember more than I do from childhood? Please, Simone, you would want to get to know.” Kennedy shot Simone a “yeah right” look over her shoulder. “When was the last time you were there? Because I’m always there. The ghetto isn’t just some, what you would call, low-class neighborhoods. The ghetto is not just a place where black people live, all kinds of people live there. Ones with money and ones without. We may be biracial but our black side dominates. Ask a scientist or better yet, learn your history. When was the last time someone mistook you for a white woman? You can move to posh neighborhoods, thinking you can move away from the ghetto but you can’t because you can’t escape yourself! Ghetto is a state of mind. That’s what we are, bourgeois ghetto,” Kennedy said with authority and then fell out laughing.
“Girl, if you don’t get your butt out of my face preaching your ghetto seminars again, I’m going to lose my religion.” Simone’s laughter forced her to stop talking.
“Kisses, boo. Hope you learned something. See you Sunday and get as much as you can, like I plan to. Oh yeah, and sis, I love you so much that I hope your friend looks as good as Morris Chestnut, or that guy from Soul Food, um what’s his name . . . you know, Bird’s husband. Or even the man, D’Angelo. No, I think I’ll keep that wish for myself.” Kennedy laughed, walked downstairs, and opened the front door.
Simone followed, peeked around her sister, and saw a limousine parked in front of the house. Obviously, it was there for Kennedy.
“Be careful, Kennedy, and be careful what you wish for ’cause you just might get it,” Simone said, using one of their grandmother’s favorite sayings.<
br />
“Trust me, Simone, I know. Why do you think I keep wishing for him, ’cause if I’m lucky I just might get him.”
“Bye, Kennedy.”
“I got the hint, now you get the phone. It’s ringing.” Kennedy closed the door behind her.
“Hello?”
“Simone, it’s me, Derrick. Listen, I left a small piece of paper on your bar with Courtney’s number on it. Could you get it and give it to me?”
“A yellow sticky?”
“Yeah that’s it, can you tell me the last four numbers because I remember the 1-800 and the first three numbers, but I forgot the rest.”
“The last four numbers are 0-3-0-1.”
“Thanks much, Simone, I owe you one. And as long as I owe you, you’ll never go broke. Can you do me another favor and put the number away. It’s very, very important and you know you guys throw everything away.”
“I got you. But I have to go now, someone’s at the door,” Simone said as she hung up.
Nigel came through the door looking as good as ever with a perfectly even smile. Tall, but not model material, he was that rugged, handsome type of man. The type Simone was weak for because he made her feel that she was living on the edge. She was attracted to men who made her feel that way because her life was basically routine and boring. He came and then he went and he didn’t bother her as other men did. She liked that because one thing she couldn’t stand was someone being a pest. And Nigel was far from being a pest. For the most part, he was so unpredictable. She wasn’t used to that and now it was starting to bother her. As of late, she wanted more.
“What’s up, baby?” Nigel asked.
“Not much. What took you so long? You’re late. You were supposed to be here at seven but don’t worry about it because my little sister didn’t leave until seven-thirty. But a call would’ve been nice,” Simone answered coolly.
Nigel took off his sunglasses, wiped the perspiration from the bridge of his nose and under his eyes. His eyes shimmered flirtatiously. “Baby, I know, but you know how it is. There was an accident on the F.D.R. and you know how that traffic backs up.”
“Forget it and come over here and give me my kiss and make it up,” Simone said. No need to make a hot night cold. And she planned on taking Kennedy’s advice—getting as much as Kennedy did. “Nigel, I made you dinner—”
“Now, Simone, you know that God has blessed you with good looks, brains, and a beautiful personality and might I add a body at that, but He did not bless you with cooking hands!”
Simone bristled. Okay, so she couldn’t cook, but he didn’t have to tell her that. Hell, at least she tried and the least he could have been was appreciative. What took Kennedy an hour to prepare took her at least three from trying to be careful. With the exception of keeping a clean house, she was never into domestics—one of the reasons her first marriage didn’t work and why she never entertained the thought of having children. Before now.
“Yeah, well, you know what, Nigel? You don’t have to eat. I know that I’m no soul-food dive like Sylvia’s, but at least I’m trying.”
“Take it easy, baby. I’m only kidding. Everything you do is delicious, and I love you.”
“What?” Simone’s heart stopped beating and her body stiffened. Nigel had stunned the life out of her.
“I said I love you, Simone, and I want for us to get serious and have a real relationship. I want us to have something special and I don’t want to lose you and I won’t. So let’s make a commitment and move in together.” Nigel grabbed her hands and looked into her eyes.
“What did you say, Nigel? Because I couldn’t have heard what I thought I just heard.”
“You heard me right. I said I love you and I’m saying it again for the third time and I want you to really consider us moving in together. Now I have a question to ask you. Do you love me too?”
“Well,” Simone hesitated, considering her answer before she spoke, “yes, Nigel, I do love you but I’ll have to consider the part about us moving in together and living happily ever after, if you know what I mean.” Simone crossed her arms and tapped her foot, shocked at herself for admitting her feelings to him—something she never did because it got her in trouble the first time with Anthony, her ex-husband from whom she was happily divorced for two wonderful years.
Nigel eased behind her and gently rubbed her shoulders. “Please, give it some consideration. I really mean it, and if you give me a chance, if you give us a serious chance, I promise not to let you down. I assure you it won’t be anything like it was before with your ex, okay? So just promise me that you’ll give it a lot of thought before you decide,” he whispered in her ear and kissed her lobe.
“Listen to me carefully, Nigel. I will give it some serious thought, but all thinking has to wait until tomorrow. Right now, the only thing I want to think about is tonight. The only thing on my mind now is the wine that’s chilling and the food I took my time to prepare. Oh yeah, and by the way, my cooking can’t be that terrible because if it was, you wouldn’t be trying to shack up with me, now would you?” Simone joked.
“You got me there, baby. It’s not bad at all.” Nigel patted her butt and winked. “So let’s eat ’cause you know the best way to a brother’s heart is through his stomach and his lower vicinity. I know from experience that you’ll take care of that region later on though, right?”
“Nigel, not to throw you off or anything like that, but I don’t know about all of that tonight. I know what you’ll be trying to do. You’ll be sexin’ me and trying to convince me that we should live together at the same time.”
“Girl, you know you need to cut it out.”
“No, seriously, baby, yes you would. I know you would. Because you know that sex is one of my weakest points and I can’t think right during or immediately after. So let’s just have dinner without the dessert tonight, and let me offer you some wine and stimulating conversation with a few kisses here and there, all right?”
“Whatever you want, baby, you got it.”
“But, I’ll tell you what, I promise to let you know my answer to your question as soon as I reach a decision and not a moment longer, okay?”
“Okay, baby. Now tell me this: What does a brother have to do to get something to eat around here? All this talking is making me hungry from moving my mouth too much,” Nigel teased.
As Simone shook her head, she realized not only how much she really wanted Nigel, but how much she wanted to get serious with him. She loved him, but was she ready to share her life with him every day and every night? Living with a man was a big step. She had taken that step before. And although she enjoyed sleeping with him, it didn’t necessarily mean that she would enjoy living with him. But deep down she wanted to tell him yes. Yes that she would get serious with him and yes that she wanted to live with him. She wanted to share his days, his nights, and of course, his bed. Hell, who was she kidding, she had been dying for him to ask her. She would’ve asked him first but she didn’t want to seem desperate.
“Simone, baby, what are you thinking about over there? I’m only a couple of feet from you and you would think that my side of the table was a million miles away.”
She shook her head and tilted it to the side. “I’m here, baby. I was just thinking about your question, that’s all.”
“And?”
“Well, I was thinking about how much I really want this to work. How much I really want us to work. You see, sweetheart, what we have is good and I don’t want to mess it up. You know that sometimes people think that living together is the answer, but sometimes it’s not. I love you, Nigel, I do. And I believe that you love me too. But can you honestly say that you love me that much? Can you wake up to me every day and sleep with me every night and not get too comfortable? Because that’s the key—not to get too comfortable.”
“What do you mean, not to get too comfortable? I’m very comfortable with you, Simone, and if I weren’t, well let’s just say that you wouldn’t have to worry about that becaus
e I wouldn’t be around.”
Simone checked the manicotti in the oven and retrieved plates from the cabinet. “Nigel, listen to me carefully, baby, because you’re not getting my point. When people get too comfortable they get careless. When you get too comfortable you forget that the same things you did to get the other person is the same things you must do to keep them and sometimes more.”
Nigel nodded.
Simone paused for effect. “You see, it takes a lot to keep a relationship going. A relationship is like work—hell, it is work, and you have to put in a lot of overtime,” she said as she took the food out of the oven, placed it on the counter, and began to butter the French bread.
“You need some help?” Nigel nodded toward the manicotti. “Maybe we should talk about this after we eat. You seem a little irritated.”
“No, I got it. But you can take the salad out of the fridge.” She looked at Nigel from the corner of her eye. “And why would I be irritated? You try picking it up, it’s hot and kind of heavy. No need to change the subject either, I can walk and chew gum at the same time, you know?”
Simone fixed her plate, sat down, and gave a short silent prayer. Nigel stared at her and cleared his throat.
“So, it’s like that?” Nigel questioned with his hands in the air.
“What?” Simone swallowed and laughed. “I know you didn’t expect me to fix your plate. I cooked the food, isn’t that enough? If you want someone to cook and serve, there’s a restaurant around the corner.” She winked.
“Oh boy, I can see I’m in for it.”
“Mm-hmm, can you pour me something to drink before you sit down?”
Nigel shook his head and smiled. Simone had the upper hand in the conversation and took full advantage of it. She’d make up for it later. She watched him as he reached for a glass. The outline of his muscles through his shirt aroused her. Later she’d feel the hardness of his body.
“Mm-mm-mm.” She patted the chair beside her. “Come on over here and sit down. I wanna be next to you.”
Momma's Baby, Daddy's Maybe Page 4
