Something Deeper

by Shara Azod

  “Forty?”

  “Dunno. But I didn’t get her name,” Cashmere said, moving over to the sink and putting his now empty mug into the clean space. He almost always ate at home, but most of it was take out. “It is the furthest thing from joking I can get.”

  “You serious? You haven’t even had sex with her and you lettin’ her ruin all the other opportunities comin’ your way? You are super crazy, white boy.”

  Yeah. That’s about the sum of what Cashmere had been thinking too the last couple of months. He’d lost his mind—over a woman whose fake name was all he knew.

  “Why didn’t you ask Dante for her name? She’s got a list of everybody’s real information, names, telephone numbers, and email addresses”

  Was Marcus serious?

  “I thought she deleted that after the party? That’s what the literature says when you sign up.”

  Besides Dante isn’t talking to me, not after the harsh riot act I read her in Vegas. She ruined my chance with Caramel and made me seem like a boy toy for real.

  Marcus shook his head again, afro stiff and unmoved.

  “Nah, she keeps it in case something hits the fan and she got to call the cops. She can’t just tell the cops someone named Massively Hung raped a woman or stole a car.”

  Cashmere stared at him, eyes wide, fighting back his urge to laugh.

  “How do you know?” Cashmere asked, peering at Marcus because this wouldn’t be the first practical joke he’d played. His lips trembled to stay calm and not to chuckle.

  Marcus stood up, tugging his shirt down over his rock hard abs.

  Marcus sported a six and Cashmere had a four.

  “Because Dante’s my girlfriend,” he said, meeting Cashmere’s eyes with stiff stubbornness. He didn’t look off and the raw stare caused Cashmere to move backward.

  Apparently Cashmere wasn’t the only one who had bombs to drop today.

  And I confessed to being with her. Ugh.

  “Steady?” Cashmere said, swallowing his shock down into his searing belly. Nauseous, he put the bile of worry back down there too.

  He had to ask because Marcus had multiple definitions for girlfriend.

  “Like a ship on a calm sea,” Marcus said, grinning outright. “Though we do invite guests into our, uh, space. She still throws the parties. The money’s too good to stop. I go to ‘em, you know, taste a little this, and try a little that.”

  “And if Dante sees someone she likes,” Cashmere asked, remembering her spur of the moment oral back in Vegas.

  “…If we see someone we like, we invite.”

  “Even men? That’s new for you.”

  Cashmere leaned back against the kitchen sink, smirking.

  Marcus shrugged. “I’m as straight as an arrow, Cash, you know that. But if she wants to be pleasured by someone she sees, well, I’m all for sharing. Swinging it goes both ways. If I see some cute little honey I want to try, she’s all in. The sex is just that, sex. It isn’t love or even infringing on what Dante and I have.”

  Which would be what?

  Cashmere coughed out his doubt. “That’s new. Sharing.”

  “I ain’t like I’m sharing her with you,” Marcus said, not smiling, brown eyes glowering. “Though I know she had a lot of heat for you. I know that. Don’t think I don’t.”

  Cashmere paused, waiting. Marcus’s words were edgy and tough. Beneath the talk, Cashmere realized Marcus didn’t like sharing Dante with everyone. But he and Marcus had a history with a girl they both shared, unbeknownst to either of them, and it might still be a sore spot for him.

  “Not even on my playlist,” Cashmere said at last, feeling a boulder fall from his shoulders. The last thing he wanted was Marcus being suspicious of his relationship, well, lack of one, with Dante. She’d gotten him in enough trouble with Caramel.

  “Good. Anyway, you haven’t seen how hot she looks when she’s enjoying herself—I mean really enjoying herself. It’s worth the occasional third or fourth wheel. That doesn’t happen too much, only once in the last month.”

  “Bully for you,” Cashmere said, not conveying what he really thought of the idea. He remembered how all he could see were red patches when he saw Caramel talking to Mandingo.

  “Dunno if everybody can change, but I did. Call her and ask her. She’ll track down your girl and then, well, then, the rest is up to you.”

  Cashmere’s stomach whirled. This is a disaster waiting to happen.

  For one, there were too many loose ends.

  Even if he found Caramel, would she want him? Would she be willing to try again? What if she was secretly married? Had a lover already?

  It was too much to take or think about.

  For two, she thought him a boy toy, a young brat seeking to fulfill as many of his appetites as possible. He heard from Mandingo, aka Gerald, that Caramel found him, Cashmere, to be that very thing.

  It turned his insides to cold jelly when he thought she actually believed it.

  “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

  Marcus frowned at him. “After what you just told me, you’re not going to take this chance to find her? Damn man, do something. At this rate, you’ll never get laid again, if you keep letting her ruin your vibe. This way you’ll know what she thinks of you, and then you can move on with your life.”

  “She’s probably got a lover by now, a husband or something,” Cashmere said, trying hard to make his voice seem light and apathetic. “Knowing my luck.”

  “Yeah. But you won’t ever know ‘till you try,” Marcus said, heading toward the door. “I’ll tell Dante to be lookin’ for your call.”

  “Could you, uh, do me the favor?” he asked, his voice hoarse as his throat grew drier.

  He didn’t know what else to do. Dante would choke the life out of him if he came within fifteen feet of her. Yep, she was still furious the last time he saw her at Marcus’s cookout two weeks ago.

  Before he could get an answer, Marcus was through the door and gone.

  For such a large man, he moved with amazing smoothness and finesse.

  Perhaps that’s what made Dante commit.

  Dante.

  After their last meeting, Cashmere didn’t know if she’d help him or not, especially once she found out the woman he sought was the same one whose name he called out during their, uh, get together. Jealousy could sometimes last as long as love—perhaps longer.

  He had to try. Even Marcus had said as much, and coming from the biggest player he knew, that meant a lot. And if someone as tough as Marcus could learn to share his woman, if for no other reason than to make her happy, then Cashmere could give this a try.

  What’s the worst that could happen?

  Chapter 6

  “One more time, class,” Sky said, using her pen as a pointer against the transparency. The overhead stood at the front of her small classroom and on the dry erase board, sentences containing blanks were certain parts of speech should’ve been. “What word should go in the blank after was?”

  A murmur drifted across the classroom.

  “I know the weather outside is making you restless, and I know this is the last hour of the day. But I need you to focus, please. We’ve only got four more.”

  I did ask for a classroom with windows. This is my punishment for complaining about not having any.

  After her stern plea, a few hands went into the air.

  “Yes, Jesus?”

  Thank goodness you’re interested Jesus or else I’d be up here teaching myself.

  “Listening,” Jesus said smugly. “It’s the only action verb in the list.”

  “Thank you! Next, Susan,” Sky asked, feeling the chance for getting volunteers had passed. She started calling on random students.

  The remainder of the class hour dwindled away like molasses in the frozen snow. Not unlike her students, anxiousness set Sky’s nerves on end and she was more than ready for school to end. Tomorrow was Saturday and the weekend loomed ahead, tempting and teasingly. Sky was looking
forward to reading and napping at her home a breath outside of Albuquerque.

  Adding to the layer of restlessness was the influx of dark clouds carrying a seventy percent chance of snow. The temperatures plummeted once the sun went down in the high New Mexican desert, and when the stars aligned and moisture found its way from the coast to the arid valley, it was a big deal indeed.

  This snow would be the first of fall.

  The bell beeped announcing the school day had ended. Streams of students left the room, threatening to trample each other.

  Sky breathed a sigh of relief as she put away the overhead projector, her markers and the transparencies. The calm after the storm of students held a certain peace.

  No sooner had her room been vacated did Lee slip in, wearing her ‘teacher best’ and shuddering against the icy wind. Big hoop earrings, dark, burgundy lips, and lime green pants, slick coal-black square heeled boots and matching sweater looked pleasant on Lee. A stark contrast to Sky’s somber gray pants, ivory blouse, and raven leather pumps. Sky tugged her jet cardigan closer, feeling the brief gust of cold air from Lee’s entrance slither inside.

  “Whoo! Done. Two free days until being enslaved again,” Lee declared, hopping up onto one of Sky’s student tables. Crossing her legs at the ankles, Lee continued, “Going to get my grove on with Bobby. He’s in from Connecticut. I think we’re going up to Santa Fe, maybe Angelfire, to do some skiing.”

  Lee’s rattling on didn’t surprise Sky at all. Her go get ‘em attitude was why they were friends. Lee’s hot to Sky’s cold. Her daring to Sky’s caution.

  “You?” Lee asked lightly, glancing at her out of the corner of her eye.

  Sky could almost feel the tension roll into the room like a rush of heat. Ever since Vegas, she and Lee had been tiptoeing around each other when talking about anything pertaining to Sky’s love life or personal time.

  Sky shrugged, while at the same time shoving papers into her teacher bag. Avoiding Lee’s eyes, she plopped down into her chair, and scooted closer to the desk. With fake interest, she scrolled through the document currently on the screen—next week’s lesson plans.

  “Uh, well, going to get caught up on a few things around the house, attend the fair, and shop the sales.”

  Naughty, naughty. I intend to do none of those things, except maybe the fair—maybe. Going places alone totally sucks.

  “Fair, uh? Yeah that screams boring. What’s up with you lately?”

  Lee swung her legs back and forth, her hands gripping the table’s ledge. With her eyes pinned to Sky, she kept her mouth closed, waiting.

  Although Sky wasn’t looking at her, she could see out of the corner of her eye Lee’s lime green pants moving in and out. Familiarity filled in the rest.

  “Work.”

  When in doubt, blame the job.

  Sky mentally raised her emotional shield, so to speak. She trusted Lee, but, she wasn’t quite ready to talk about the freak party or, or what happened afterward again. Lee’s position had been clear. Sky had overreacted with Cashmere and Dante.

  Just go, Lee. Leave me alone. Stop trying to pry open my closed heart. Poking around in those tender spots might make me go nuts or melt into a puddle of emotional distress. Neither of which are ways to start my weekend.

  She knew that speaking those words would only make Lee dig and push harder instead of leaving. Lee could be quite stubborn when it suited her.

  “You’ve been acting funny since we got back from that conference in Vegas,” Lee accused, leaping off the table. “You ain’t been yourself. Now, I’ve left you alone to that, but damn, Sky. It’s been months. What’s eating you? What’s wrong?”

  It was a good thing Lee was a math teacher. The usage of ain’t drove Sky crazy. However, the word paled in comparison to Lee’s stubbornness.

  “I’m fine. Overworked and underpaid. The same old story as every other teacher in this area,” Sky said, keeping her eyes on the screen, feeling, more than seeing Lee’s displeasure.

  “No,” Lee said, voice bordering on anger. “You ain’t fine. I haven’t seen you smile in months, laugh in weeks, unless it’s forced and I can tell the difference. You might be fooling everybody, even yourself, but not me.”

  Sky sighed. Instead of easing Lee’s departure from her classroom, she’d managed to piss her off, which meant she would stay until she’d said her piece.

  Rolling gently back from the computer’s monitor, Sky sucked in a breath and prepared to do battle with her best friend. Again. They’d had these little blow-outs before. And it was all out of concern. Lee wouldn’t understand how words wounded her so. After all, they were only words.

  “You’re not my mother, Lee. Besides, I am fine. Just because I’m not doing what you would do, doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with me! I’m fine and fabulous even when I’m not shaking my ass or lying down with everybody who looks good!”

  Whoa, where did that come from?

  Lee flinched and grew very still, her hands pressed together in front of her mouth as if trying to contain the words straining for release. Narrow, ebony lined eyes met Sky’s, but were filled with something Sky couldn’t quite place or understand.

  God, I didn’t mean for it to sound, so, so… mean. Bitchy.

  “Lee, I didn’t mean it the way it sounded… Sorry, I—I didn’t mean to…”

  “Got an email about two days ago,” Lee said dangerously calm, totally out of character for such a loud, bubbly woman.

  It gave Sky pause. Her throat went dry and she wondered if Lee was going to break in a minute and hit her. Or worse, storm out and end their friendship. Hitting would be something Lee would do, but not talking to her any more- that would wound Sky the most.

  Startled and more than a little confused by the change in topic, Sky balked, but waited to hear Lee out.

  Where are you going with this?

  “So?” Sky said, drawing out the “o” sound, leaning forward in her chair. She was worried—really. Lee never sounded so calm before.

  “It was from Dante. Remember the tiny little woman in the red lace teddy in Vegas?” Lee asked, now leaning against Sky’s desk, her hip pushing into its ledge. Her body facing Sky, her face smooth and surprisingly serene, didn’t give any information about what she was talking about.

  Dante. Yes, that was her name. Feeling her stomach prickle, Sky swallowed several times, her throat aching with emotional strain. She tried to find the words to answer, and at the same time banish the memories Dante’s name resurrected.

  Cashmere.

  “You might not remember her,” Lee said, smiling broadly in a way that said she knew Sky remembered her very well. The cold grin only widened as she watched Sky’s face.

  Oh, I’ll never forget her. The look she gave me still gives me the willies. And the fact that she had tasted my Cashmere before I did still burns a hole in my heart.

  Listen to me, my Cashmere. Hell that boy belonged to anyone there, the highest bidder and the freakiest fruitcake.

  “Here I am thinking it’s an invite to another freak party, and I’m super excited to shake my ass and find someone else to lay with…”

  “I didn’t mean that.”

  Lee wagged her finger stern and firm at Sky.

  “Yeah, you did. I know it. You know it.”

  Sky sighed.

  “Anyway, the contents of Dante’s email caught me by surprise, because the damn thing was about you.”

  “Me?”

  Surprised, Sky’s voice had squeaked.

  “Funny that,” Lee continued, fully amused at Sky’s reaction. “Seems she was more than a little curious about you. Whole thing was a damn questionnaire about my non-sexpot guest.”

  “B—but why?”

  Sky slowly got out of her chair. Her heartbeats grew to a slow gallop as she tried to puzzle out what the hell was going on. Her ears rang and the room whirled once she got to her feet. Gripping the desk, she shook her head to clear it. Blinking to end the relentless spinning, s
he took in a deep steadying breath.

  “What did she want?” she asked with a puff of anxiety-filled sigh.

  Cashmere had been more interested in her youthful sex than me.

  Lee shrugged. “She said someone was looking for you. A man you met had been seeking out his little, what’s the name she called you? Oh, oh, yeah. Caramel.”

  Sky’s mouth dropped and she blushed.