Sins & Secrets

by Carolyn Chambers Sanders

  When I got to the airport, Fred called. I got to give it to him, this nigga had balls. I hung up in his face. He kept calling, so I turned off my phone. The sound of his voice made me sick. It’s funny. I was more disappointed than hurt. Just when you think you’ve found a decent nigga, they always do some dumb junk that bring you back to reality.

  This is exactly why I live the way I do. See, if I had gotten myself all caught up, you know, depending on a nigga, I’d be assed out. That’s why yo girl always put business first and everything else will fall into place.

  All right, all right, I did listen to one of his messages. Just to see exactly what the nigga had to say, for future reference only.

  “Candice please. Please baby, don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to us. Please don’t leave. I need to talk to you. Give me a chance to explain.”

  Exactly what was this nigga gon’ explain? Explain that he is married and forgot to tell me? There was nothing that he could tell me or explain to me. I think that’s what’s wrong with most men. They think they can fix everything. But when you mess up, you just mess up, plain and simple.

  Some of y’all might think I got played, but hell, that’s life. Sooner or later all of us get fucked. You just have to know how to grease it up so it won’t be so painful. The true player thing is to just go on, don’t regret what happened, and learn from it. I can’t hate the player. I just play the game.

  The people that he owed an explanation to were his family. No matter if I live to be a hundred, I’ll never understand how a man can turn his back on his own children for what he thinks is better. Fellas, if you want to impress the ladies, handle yo business. Women like men who are responsible and honest, sorta like a Cliff Huxtable type. Y’all can save all that big pimpin’ for the rap videos.

  I made it through customs just in time to catch my flight to Philadelphia. The airlines didn’t have a direct flight to West Palm Beach after six in the evening. I had to fly to Philadelphia, then to Atlanta, and lay over in Atlanta until the morning. I just wanted to get away from Fred; I didn’t care how many planes I had to change. On the plane, all I thought about was that this nigga was married. He was kind and gentle, but when it came down to it, he was a no-good nigga just like my ex-husband. Yeah, you heard me right. I got married my last year in college. It only lasted six months, but I still got very hurt from the ordeal. His name was Dante, and I dated Dante for five years. We spent all our free time together. We practically lived together. We decided to get married my last year of school. At the time, I thought it was the best move for me. He had finished school two years before me and went to work for his father. They owned a chain of five-star restaurants.

  I knew he had other women. I didn’t worry about it though. The way I figured it, all men mess around. It only becomes a problem when the nigga gets disrespectful.

  Yeah, I was really young back then. People say women mature faster than men, so I can only imagine what dudes my age were thinking about life back then.

  Like most niggas, my ex had to go get ignorant with it: Whores calling and hanging up, writing me letters and thangs. I had to leave.

  Self-respect is all a woman has and when that is taken away, there’s nothing else. Remember, with or without money, self-respect is more important than anything.

  Dante was a hard man to deal with. I was one of the very few people who understood him. The main woman he was messing around with was probably thinking, “Yeah high-yella heifer, I took your man.” I bet she really thought she was getting something. See, what most of these on-the-side hoes don’t know is that it’s easy loving someone else’s husband, but when he’s yours it’s a whole different ballgame.

  See, when you loving another woman’s man, you don’t have to deal with all the problems that go along with him. When he sees you, he wants to be bothered. But, think about when he don’t want to be bothered, and you have to be there anyway. What happens when you have to deal with all his bull? When things don’t go right, he takes it all out on you.

  When you are loving another woman’s husband, you don’t have to deal with all that. You are not there long enough to deal with nothing. In fact, you really don’t know him, and he really doesn’t know you. What’s going to happen when you are forced to deal with each other? Oh but yes, that’s when it’ll really hit the fan, and there’ll be more funk than a George Clinton concert.

  What about when he gets tired of you and goes to another woman? It’s bound to happen, believe that! You see, dogs like to do two things, roam and fuck. And in the back of yo mind, you will always be thinking that, because you know how you got him. I definitely don’t need that kind of stress. I can’t deal with all that mind tripping.

  He married his mistress. They stayed together for three years and had two babies. From the moment I left, he’s been knocking my door down. He didn’t ever think that I’d leave, because of the money. I guess he never really knew me. Like that Street Team song say, “My life’s been a struggle/ I was born to hustle/ I guess it’s just my momma in me.”

  When we first broke up, I was hurt and brokenhearted. I even briefly entertained the thought of going back. I didn’t know if I was going to make it. But, when your back’s against the wall, you can either submit or come out swinging. Let’s just say I’m not the submissive type.

  Six months after he married her, he was trying to see me again. He didn’t appreciate me until I was gone. He realized that the woman he married wasn’t half the woman I am. She was lazy, nagged all the time, didn’t have any class, and was very insecure about their relationship. She knew how she got him and that sooner or later he would start tippin’ again. When he was gone a long time, she would drive by my place looking for him. She asked for him, and she got every part of that lowdown, no-good, “ain’t made me bust a nut yet” nigga.

  He kept trying to mess around with me, but I wasn’t interested. When I was with him, the sex wasn’t good anyway. He was too selfish in bed. I remember one night we got in bed and I knew he was horny. I reached over and touched his D. It was rock hard, so I sucked him off real good. I even swallowed the cum. Stop hatin’, we were married, and men love that shit. Now, you would expect sometimes the nigga would return the favor, but twenty-nine out of thirty he just went to sleep. I had to play with my own cat. Now ain’t that a mess, playing with yo cat while yo man sleep next to ya.

  Another thing that was messed up, I couldn’t even tell him what I wanted in bed. If I tried, he’d get mad and say something stupid like, “Who you been wit? Where you learned all that?”

  Eww, that man used to make me so mad. If it wasn’t for my personal massager, ladies y’all know what I’m talking about, I would’ve probably never got a nut.

  I don’t have any bedroom inhibitions, so I didn’t understand why I couldn’t be his whore and his wife. When a woman is down for you like that, it doesn’t mean you have free rein over her. Too many niggas ruin perfectly good relationships by not recognizing that their woman only does freaky stuff for them, not because she just likes it. Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of nymphos out there, but most women aren’t. They just want to give their man everything he could possibly want, emotionally and physically.

  Now you can see why I don’t want the problems that come with a married man, and I definitely didn’t want one leaving his wife for me. I know I’d never be able to trust him. This was why I left Fred, and knew I’d never see him again.

  On my layover in Atlanta, I called Toi and told her what happened. She couldn’t believe it. She said Johnny never mentioned that Fred was married. Yeah right, that nigga knew. He was probably married too. Ain’t no telling.

  I told her I would be leaving in the morning, but she talked me into staying a few days. Since I had already planned to be gone from work for a week, it was not hard to convince me. Anyway, I need some friendly company right then and I knew Toi, being her crazy self, would accommodate me.

  The next morning, I went to the spa and got a good workout and
massage. I took it easy for the rest of the day. I told Toi I would see her tomorrow. I wasn’t up for company or conversation, just needed to get my thoughts in order, that’s why I would not stay at Johnny’s house with Toi when she asked me to.

  I kept my phone off because Fred would not stop calling. It got to the point where I just wanted to cuss him out and tell him to leave me alone.

  The next day Toi and I went to lunch. She said that we were going out tonight and she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Johnny and Toi would pick me up for dinner and then dancing at Club 120. This scene was all too familiar. This was how it all started with Fred, meeting these two at a club. This wasn’t going to happen again fa’ sho, but I was in the mood for a hard drink and some good company.

  By the time we got to the club, the line was wrapped around the parking lot. Atlanta is always good for a good party. It seems like that’s all them niggas do out there. A bouncer walked us to the front of the line and let us use the side entrance. Johnny was friends with the club owner. They played ball back in college.

  The club was full of ballas. Not just men either. There were women wearing platinum jewelry with Fendi and Prada outfits. I’m not talking about that fake junk. These ladies had definitely been to Lennox Mall’s finest shops.

  Atlanta had some good-looking people. Every one dressed like they had money. We walked upstairs to the VIP section next to the bar. Johnny ordered a bottle of champagne and we did tequila shots.

  “Candice, you ready?” asked Toi.

  “No, the question is, are you ready?”

  After we got our buzz, we went to the dance floor.

  “Hey girl, I know it’s not a good time, but one of Johnny’s teammates is meeting us here.”

  “Toi! Why you gotta do this now?”

  “I’m sorry, but Johnny already made plans before you called. Besides, he may be what you need right now. I know you still horny from waiting for Fred for all that time. Hey, if he ain’t all that, just let the nigga lick the cat.”

  “Well . . . we’ll just have to see. Oh wait girl, my cell is buzzing. Here that nigga go again.”

  “Who?”

  “Fred. Looks like I’ma have to get my number changed. He filled up my message center the last couple of days.”

  “Honey, do what you gotta do.”

  I turned off my phone for the rest of the night. I don’t like playing games.

  I noticed Johnny looking for his friend. Our table was adjacent to the entrance with a tall table between us. He spotted his friend, but his friend did not see him since the table was between them. Johnny got up and walked over to where his friend was standing.

  Toi watched Johnny as he and his friend headed toward the bar to get more drinks before they joined us. I just kept talking to Toi. I really wasn’t in the mood for another one of Johnny’s friends.

  Toi said, “Girl, he pointing over here. He is fine and looks just like yo type.”

  When I looked up, I damn near pee’d on myself. It was him. Not Fred, Mike. Oh my gosh, it’s really him again.

  What am I going to do? I know he saw me, so I can’t disappear like the last time. And speaking of the last time I saw him in West Palm Beach, he had to be with Johnny because that’s when Toi met Johnny. The world is really a small place.

  I know Toi thought I was losing my mind. My eyes must’ve been opened pretty wide because she turned her top lip up and frowned as I took in the sight of that magnificent man. I could tear him up right now.

  No . . . no Candice, calm down. I just need to breathe slowly and take things one step at a time. Okay, here we go.

  My body got warm inside as I thought about that night. The smells, sounds, and tastes. It was like we were there again. I wanted to go over and say something, but I couldn’t move.

  Oh no . . . he was staring at me. I knew he recognized me, but wasn’t sure from where. I read his lips as he asked Johnny, “Is that Toi’s friend?”

  Johnny shook his head yes, and they both looked at me.

  They started walking toward the table. Toi and I stood up to walk over to the bar. As he came closer, I became more nervous. It was definitely him for sure. What would I say? What would I do?

  “Michael, this is Toi’s best friend,” but before he could finish introducing us Michael said, “Candice?”

  “Hi, Michael,” I was so nervous, but I hoped that he didn’t notice.

  Toi and Johnny immediately started tripping.

  “Candice, I did not know that you knew Michael.”

  Johnny looked at Michael as if he was about to say the same thing.

  I whispered in Toi’s ear, “That’s the guy you and Amber never met that I went home with that night over a year ago.”

  “Damn, he’s the one.”

  She looked away and started screaming with excitement. Y’all know how your girls do when they happy for you.

  I guess it was all kind of strange because I did not have the Fred situation out of my system yet. For all I knew, Michael might turn out to be married, engaged, bisexual, or something. I was not trying to deal with more drama. With my luck, I knew he had to be twisted in one way or another. Anyway, I was not putting my faith in nobody but me for a good minute. And, y’all wonder why I put my money before my honey.

  Michael just stared at me, not knowing exactly what to say. What could he say? I didn’t know what I wanted him to say, if anything. This whole situation was driving me crazy.

  He ended up saying, “I knew that was you back in West Palm Beach at that club. I was with Johnny that night, but you disappeared.”

  I can tell that he wanted something from me. I’m not trying to blow my own horn, but when this firecracker brings the heat, you will burn. In other words, he probably wanted some sex. You know though . . . I might be all wrong about Michael. He could be a decent man, but Fred left a real bad taste in my mouth. So, I’m moving slow with everything else in my life.

  Michael grabbed my hands and said, “I can’t believe that you have walked back into my life.”

  My hands were sweating.

  “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” Before I could respond, Mary J. Blige’s “Missing You” came on, and he asked me to dance.

  “Okay.”

  All right . . . I may be losing precious cool points by not taking full control of the moment. See, I may be a cold businesswoman, but I’m still a woman. Every now and then, a nigga can take your breath away. As just demonstrated oh so perfectly by Michael.

  Michael and I didn’t even notice Toi and Johnny were watching us. I don’t think either of us even realized when they started dancing right next to us. I only saw him, and I think he saw only me.

  And I wanted him to hold me.

  All people need the feel of another human being every now and then. The warmth of a hand or the feel of a person’s breath against your neck can make you feel alive. Yeah, there’s nothing like the human touch.

  I wanted to feel him close to me.

  I often thought about that night we had together, even when I was wasting my time with Fred. In fact, I used to imagine that very night when I lay in bed next to Fred.

  He held me close to him, and I laid my head on his chest as we danced. My body became numb. I began to smell his sweet body oil. The tighter he held me, the more my loins ached for his manhood. When I felt his cool breath against my neck, I barely kept my composure.

  He kissed my neck softly and said, “You feel so good next to me.”

  I finally mustered up enough courage to ask, “Michael, do you remember that night? Do you remember how good it felt next to each other? Did you miss me or think about me at least once?”

  I started rubbing my lips against his neck lightly, but I didn’t kiss him. I wanted to tease him a little.

  “Candice, you remember how good it felt when I was inside you?”

  “Yes, yes I remember.”

  He continued with, “I still think about how sweet you tasted and how tight and warm it was.”


  Call me a freak, but it turns me on when a sexy man talks dirty to me. A lot of women like to front, but nasty words usually mean extra-nasty lovin’.

  “Was it good to you? Candice, have you thought about me at all? Did you hope that you would see me again? I have wanted you since that night. Don’t you want to see me again?”

  The song went off before I got a chance to answer his questions. We walked off the dance floor hand in hand.

  We went and sat at the table with Toi and Johnny. Michael ordered another bottle of champagne for us, while he drank Hennessey straight up. I drank just enough to keep my buzz going. I knew that I was giving him all this tonight, and I definitely wanted to be sober enough to enjoy every inch of him.

  As we sipped our drinks, Michael asked me again if I wanted to see him. I guess he wanted to be sure that I was still actually interested in him.

  “I’m not looking for a sexual relationship,” I replied. I don’t know what made me say that. I already told y’all that I wanted to ride him like a jackrabbit on Viagra. Never-

  theless, I knew that I wanted more than that. After the drama that went down with Fred, I had to put my guard up extra tight.

  In response to my seemingly crazy statement, he said, “I would like to get to know you. I want to know every little thing about you. After all, it’s really the little things that end up counting the most. Now, if I stood here and pretended that being inside of you and tasting you wasn’t on my mind, I would be lying, but I can wait.”

  If he only knew how much I wanted him, but I had to be strong. My first thought was just to screw him silly, but I didn’t know what his plans were. If I had learned anything from the whole Fred ordeal, it’s that taking things slow is not enough. You have to do a background check.

  Y’all go ahead and laugh, but most people lie without a second thought. Like I’ve said time and time again, I’m getting too old for those unnecessary games we play. I need something real without all the drama. Anyway, I’ll be damned if I let another nigga shake up my life, even a little. No . . . this time I’m not just going to pump the brakes, I’m bringing this thing to a complete stop. You know . . . to really assess the situation.