Show and Tell

by Niobia Bryant

  His words make me climb right off his lap. I cross my arms over my exposed breasts as I step back from him. “You know, Taquan, a lot of my life has been filled with lies and deception on my part. This last year I have really tried to find myself and be true to myself. Be it right or be it wrong.”

  He stands and removes his suit jacket. “So what are you saying?” he asks softly as he moves behind me to place the jacket around my near nudity.

  I have to swallow back a shiver at the feel of his hands on my body. Even the most innocent move from him makes me want him even more. “It’s hard for me to be around you so much and to want you so much and not have you,” I admit, turning so that I can look up into his face.

  “This is very important to me, Latoya,” he stresses with conviction clearly in his face.

  What can I say? Sex is important to me? That would sound trashy—especially to a church boy like Taquan. God, this would be so much easier if Taquan looked more like damn Flavor Flav’s oogly ass than Idris Elba.

  “Maybe I should go and give you time to decide,” he says.

  I feel alarm. “Decide what?”

  “If a relationship with me without sex is what you want,” he answers without hesitation, his voice hard and certain.

  Dang on it. The man or the sex? That’s a crazy choice for a woman to make. I will never make love with Taquan unless we get married. Hell, what if he never proposes? What if I don’t accept?

  Maybe I do need to think this over.

  He must have seen that on my face because he leans down and kisses me on both my cheeks and my forehead before he turns to leave. I turn away because I can’t watch him go. Is this the end for Taquan and I? I’m not promiscuous, but can I grab the celibacy torch from Alizé and run with it? I’ve had some really good sex and it’s going to be hard to forget that.

  I slump down onto the couch and wince as the cool leather sticks to my vagina lips. It’s a shame that’s all the action I’m getting tonight.

  Cash rules everything around me. Humph. How true that is.

  Cristal stands up from behind her desk as soon as I walk out into the reception area of Lowe, Ingram, and Banks. “Oh, God, Mo, what’s wrong? What did she say?” she asks with concern as she comes from behind her area to take my hands in hers.

  Does my face show how scared I am?

  I look up at her and I feel the tears in my eyes. “Last night I’m trying to make Taquan make love to me like that’s important. How stupid is that when I don’t have two red cents to rub together to pay for this . . . this child custody suit. He can afford the best and I can’t afford . . . to fight for my baby. She needs ten thousand dollars just to get started.”

  My chest heaves as I fight to breathe in air. I feel like I am drowning. “I told her about the rape thing. I told her how rich Bones is and . . . and . . . that he hates me. She thinks he’s going to file papers for temporary custody. Oh, my God. I’m gonna lose my baby.”

  My legs give out from under me and Cristal struggles on her stilettos to hold me up.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Alizé

  Ineed my girls because I know I shouldn’t be here. They would have talked me out of doing this if they knew. But Cristal’s at work—so she says. Moët had to meet with her attorney this morning. And Dom? Like I said before me and Dom was cool but I’m not to that point where she would be the one I would call on. Not yet. Me and my moms haven’t really spoken since I moved out. My dad had no clue about this whole Cameron thing and I’m not bothering to fill him in now.

  So here I am.

  My palms are sweating. My heart is racing. I have that same fear I had the very first day I walked into high school without any friends. All these years later and I still don’t have much more confidence than I did at fourteen. Although this is a lot bigger than first day of school jitters.

  Still, I have to do this.

  “Okay, Alizé, here goes nothing,” I tell myself as I get out of my car and walk towards the steps of St. Bartholomew’s Church in New York City—the same Park Avenue church where Cristal was supposed to marry Sahad a couple of months ago. The same church where the man I love is marrying another woman. Today.

  I just feel like I should tell him I love him one more time. I should say the words he wanted to hear last year. I tried at work but ever since I made that bold move on him, Cameron has kept me the hell away from him and his office. I went by his house in South Orange but he doesn’t live there anymore. He did move to New York even though the wedding had been postponed. I would send an email but all company messages are monitored and any hint of something between Cameron and me will leave my ass scooty-booted out of Braun, Weber.

  Okay, truth? I could have found a better time to proclaim my love again, but a piece of me has been scared shitless that he will reject me. This is all of my fears and insecurities about love coming to a damn head. I have to keep telling myself that in the end, if I win him back, that it was all worth the risk. Nothing ventured. Nothing gained.

  And I do love him. I adore him. I want him. I miss him.

  I can love him better than she can.

  “Hi, Monica.”

  I turn and there is Delaney walking up to me smiling like she doesn’t have a care in the world. “Hey, Delaney.”

  “God, you look really pretty.”

  I’m not conceited in the least but I put extra effort into making sure I look damn good. My natural jet-black hair is bone straight. My caramel skin is gleaming from a good lotion down from Carol’s Daughter body butter. The April weather is still chilly in New York (especially as the sun is setting), so I really had no business wearing this silk chiffon Vera Wang dress but it’s so ultra-feminine and the olive color is blazing against my bronzed caramel complexion. I borrowed one of Cristal’s stoles to fight the cold some. I feel beautiful. Beautiful enough to steal my man back.

  “Thanks, Delaney. You too,” I tell her even though I really haven’t given her a second look. I have other things on my mind except girl chat over clothes.

  “Come on. We can sit together.” Delaney offers.

  I give her the best smile I can. “You go ahead and save me a seat. I have to make a phone call,” I lie, reaching into the gold beaded bag I’m carrying.

  She squeezes my hand and gives me a soft smile before she walks away. It makes me wonder if she knows anything about Cameron and me. At this point I don’t care. I have to go for mine or get left behind. Point blank.

  I’ve never let myself fall in love before and I can’t just continue to sit on my ass doing nothing while another woman marries Cameron. I have to make a move or this wedding is going to go down right in my face.

  I walk into the vestibule. Ushers are leading people into the chapel. I look around not sure where to go to find him. I’m about to open any and every door I see when two tuxedo-clad men walk inside the church. I keep my eyes locked on them like a hawk as they both turn to the right and make their way towards a door. As it opens and then closes behind them, I see a hall.

  With a quick look around me, I walk right over to that door and run smack dab into Cameron and the two men standing there talking it up. Three sets of eyes fall on me. “Hello, Cameron,” I say, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. On the inside my stomach feels like I’m going to shit up my damn self.

  He steps forward with confusion on his handsome face. He looks so good in his tuxedo. So handsome. So refined. So Cameron.

  “We need to talk, Cameron,” I say as he reaches me.

  He looks down at me for a long time before he grabs my hand and pulls me into another room off the hall. As soon as the door closes behind us, he begins to pace in front of me. I start to speak and he stops pacing to hold up his hand to stop me before he resumes his pacing all over again. Several times as he walks back and forth in front of me, he looks at me a long time before he shakes his head and looks straight ahead again.

  “Cameron, I love you,” I tell him in a rush before he can stop me. I s
tep up and grab his arm to stop the damn pacing so that I can step in front of him. I look up into his eyes and my heart feels like it grows in size. “I love you so much, Cameron, and I know you love me too. Don’t you?” I ask with fierceness as I step up on my toes to try and kiss the hell out of him.

  He just steps back from me. “Why are you doing this, Ze? Is this a joke to you?” he asks in a voice I barely hear.

  I reach out and grasp his chin to tilt his head up so that he is looking at me. “You know more than anyone that this is not easy for me but here I am laying my heart on the line for you. Fighting . . . for you.”

  His face looks tortured and I know he is fighting with his feelings. That gives me hope. “Why now?”

  “Because you shouldn’t marry Serena,” I tell him without hesitation. “She’s not the one for you and you know it.”

  “And how should I know that?” he asks with attitude. “Serena and I have been in a relationship with each other. I’ve been there for her and she has been there for me. We spent time together. We’ve built things together. We own a home together. I haven’t laid eyes on you until two months ago.”

  “Then the love you claimed to have for me wasn’t that deep because not very long after you tell me you love me your ass—”

  “You’re in church,” he interrupts me sharply.

  There is a knock.

  “Go away,” I shout.

  “Come in,” Cameron shouts at the same time.

  I drop my head into my hands in frustration.

  “Excuse, Cameron, the wedding planner is ready for you.”

  I look up at one of the tuxedo-clad brothers sticking his head inside the supply room. I turn my attention to Cameron. My face says “What are you going to do?”

  He diverts his eyes from mine and my heart plummets. Oh no, this nigga ain’t still going to marry another woman?

  “Tell her I’ll be right there,” he says.

  Oh yes, the hell he is.

  This is the pain I always wanted to avoid. This is the rejection I never wanted to feel. This is not the way things are supposed to be. Cameron is the first man I have ever loved and he isn’t supposed to marry someone else.

  “This isn’t the time nor the place for this, Monica.” He reaches for my hands but I snatch away from him.

  “Tell me you don’t love me,” I demand, tears filling my eyes as I stare at him. I hate that I feel desperate.

  “I’m not leaving her at the altar,” was his reply.

  “Tell me you don’t love me, Cameron,” I demand again as one traitor-ass tear races down my cheek.

  He raises his hand to my face and uses his thumb to swipe away the tear. “Why couldn’t you say all this that day, Monica?” he asks softly.

  I close my eyes at the feel of his hand. The warmth. The strength. The chemistry. “It’s not too late.”

  He nods as he bends down to me. “Yes, it is,” he whispers against my forehead before he presses his lips there.

  I shiver and close my eyes as my heart breaks. I don’t open my eyes again until I hear the door close behind him. I feel stupid for even bringing my ass here. The old Alizé don’t take shit like this off nobody. I used to go for mine and fuck everybody else. That way I never had to feel this shit. And I never want to feel this way again.

  I run out of the church just as a Hummer limo pulls up to the reserved parking spot in front of the church. I know it’s the bridal party arriving. But for some reason I stand there and watch the dozen or so girls climb out of the limo in their beautiful Lazaro gowns of silver. They all huddle in front of the church. I’m still standing there when Serena is assisted out of the limo. I have to admit that she looks beautiful in a strapless beaded gown.

  I will admit to no one—not even my friends—but at that moment I’m so jealous of this bitch. For real. Not because she’s prettier than me or lighter than me or richer than me. She has Cameron and I want Cameron. Point blank.

  She turns her head and catches sight of me. Her face shows surprise and then some other emotion I can’t quite figure the fuck out. She stares at me and I stare back until one of her bridesmaids asks her, “Who’s that?”

  “Nobody,” she answers before she continues on into the church.

  The fucked up thing is that I feel like a fucking nobody.

  What we share ain’t about love or passion or chemistry. It’s sex pure and simple. Good sex but that’s all. In the last month these hot ass moments with him have become my lifesaver. If these four walls could talk.

  I grab the sofa cushions and bite the pillow as he pushes his dick inside of me like I’ve been a bad girl. With each pop of his hips my ass jiggles as I toot it up to the sky for his taking. Sometimes when we fucking I think about Cameron. Or shopping for shoes. Or school. Or my internship. But other times I’m thinking “no this old motherfucker ain’t fucking me this way.” Viagra or Cialis or the dick pump has got to be involved because his dick is always hard as jail time.

  Right now Cameron and Serena are at their reception popping corks and probably laughing at my dumb ass. I pound my fist against the couch as a wave of heartache hits me. That pain made me fly straight from the church to him. I want to feel something more than pain. I want to forget.

  “Suck my dick,” he orders as he slips it out of me.

  I turn over and sit on the floor with my head tilted back onto the sofa as he straddles me and then squats down to press his dick into my mouth. His balls swing near my chin as he begins to fuck my mouth as I circle the thick tip of it with my tongue.

  “Look at me,” he orders.

  I open my eyes and look right up into Dr. Locke’s face. The sweat from his body drips down onto my face. I bring my hands up to press against his thighs as he tries to push his hardness down my throat. Dr. Locke is a straight freak. When it comes to sex, he giveth and he taketh. Ass licks. Rim shots. Light spankings. One time he just wanted me to let him lay in my lap and suck my titties like he was breastfeeding. You name it and he has asked for it. We have done it all. Fuck it. It makes me forget Cameron and my mama and Dom . . . and everything else going wrong in my life.

  I flick out my tongue as he grips his dick and uses it to lightly tap all around my mouth. Each time his dick lands near my tongue I lick it and taste it.

  He turns suddenly and walks away from me with his dick still in his hands. I smile because he’s naked as me with nothing on but his dress socks. As soon as he lays back on the top of his desk with his dick standing up like a bat, I climb off the floor and walk over to him in my heels. I know what he wants.

  Just as I am straddling him backwards, ready to slide down onto every bit of his nine inches, the doorknob to his office rattles. I look over my shoulder down at his face.

  “Who?” he calls out.

  “It’s me, Hunter,” a woman calls back through the door.

  He jumps up so fast that I stumble off the desk to the floor. “That’s my wife,” he whispers to me as he jumps to his feet with his dick sticking off like an arm.

  Oh shit.

  “Coming, baby,” he calls back.

  I began to grab up my clothes as he pushes my ass into the small bathroom off his office. I quickly pull on my clothes as my heart is beating fast as hell. Out the crack in the doorway I watch him rushing to pull on his clothes. I laugh as he catches hell getting that Viagra hard-on inside his pants.

  He gives the office one last look over before he walks over and shoves my head back roughly from the door before he closes it.

  “Hunter, what took you so long to unlock the door?” I hear her ask.

  I’m dying to see what she looks like but I’m not trying to get caught fucking her husband, so I keep my ass behind that closed door.

  “I was on a call, Mildred.”

  Mildred? What the hell?

  With nothing else to do I drop down onto the commode and study my nails while I eavesdrop on him lying about why he came into the office on his normal day off. “He came in to get this puss
y, that’s why, Mildred,” I mumble aloud.

  Nearly thirty fucking minutes later, after listening to their boring ass talk about dinner and their grown ass kids, the bathroom door swings open. My heart races up into my throat. Am I going to have to fight this old bitch?

  But it’s Dr. Locke standing in the doorway already unzipping his pants. “Let me use the bathroom and then we can ride home together.”

  He steps inside and closes the door behind him. I give him an anxious look as he drops his pants down around his ankles and puts his still hard dick in his hand. I don’t say one word when he drops to his knees in front of me and works my panties off. I spread my legs wide and hold onto that commode as he slides that dick inside me and fucks me like he’s a twenty-year-old man.

  Girl Talk

  Cristal, Alizé, and Dom all looked at each other before they turned their eyes on Moët. It was a rare moment in their friendship lately that they could come together and join forces to protect, to comfort, to take care of one of them. Neither forgot the path Moët took after her abortion last year. Depression. Self-hatred. Pain. Withdrawal.

  When she looked up at them as she held her daughter close to her chest, they saw the fear in her eyes. They all understood it and wished they could rid her of it. Money is power and in this war between her and Bones, Moët lacked any arsenal.

  They all wanted to say something but any words from their lips would sound fake—what help was that?

  “I can’t let him have my baby, y’all,” she says in this whisper soft voice that is haunting as hell—very Sophia from The Color Purple “You told Harpo to beat me” kind of haunting. “I mean it.”

  Cristal, Alizé, and Dom looked at each other again and this time it was their eyes that were filled with fear.

  “Where the hell are we going to get ten thousand dollars?” Alizé asks as she propped her bottom on the arm of the sofa.

  “We?” Moët asked, looking up with red-rimmed eyes at each of them.