by Tiana Laveen
Saint crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the man.
“Let me ask you something, Hakim. Have you ever been married?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Honestly? Because I was out here messing around for years and years, and now that I’m ready to settle down, I can’t find the type of woman I want. I don’t know if it’s me or them, or something in between, but I read one of your books and it made me see some things differently. Look, man, I’m a grown man about this.” He tossed up his hands. “I’ve seen the worst and the best in people. I own and run a rehabilitation center.”
“That’s admirable. I like and respect that.”
“I owe the community, Saint, so I pay it forward. I have two teenage daughters from the same woman. We were never married. Not because of her, but because of me. I want to settle down, man. I want to find a wife. It’s time. I need that, Saint.” He could hear the desperation in the man’s tone. “Pussy is a dime a dozen. If it were about sex, I can get that 24-7. I just fucked some lady last night, and it didn’t mean shit to me.” He shrugged, looking more in pain than nonchalant over the issue. “No more casual sex; I need a mate! I need my Queen. I’m probably too picky, but I know what I want. I can’t do this shit by myself. I need a helpmate, my rib… I need support, and I need to be loved. I want to have someone of my own, and they can have me, too. My soulmate has to be out here somewhere, man.”
“She is. You just have to make the right moves to attract her, like the rest of us. It’s not easy, but it’s worth it.”
“Saint, I’d do just about anything to find her. Dealing with this shit we’ve been fighting for lately, I looked myself in the mirror and asked, ‘What the hell is going on?’ I want someone to come home to. I hate how that sounds. It comes across as weak to me, but it’s the truth, and I know I can be real with you about this.”
“And you want my help to achieve this?” Saint ran his fingers along his chin, his mental wheels turning.
“Yes, and I want you to come back to L.A. and talk to my guys about women. About how to treat them… attract them… how to give them physical, mental, and emotional pleasure, man. Race aside, your message is important. I dig what you were saying in that book, Saint. You aren’t no average Joe; you’re the real deal. So, do we have an agreement? You come back out here in the next few weeks and do this for me, all right? It will be like thirty of us and you. Deal?”
Saint looked at the man for a spell, then reached out and shook his hand.
“We’ve got a deal, brotha.”
Both of them stood from their seats and gave each other a hug.
“Have a safe flight. I’ll be in touch.”
Saint nodded and grabbed his cell phone.
Wait a minute…
“Hold on, Hakim. I wanna show you something.” The man stood there waiting, his expression unreadable. “Do you know who that is?” Saint thrust his phone in front of the man’s face. Hakim looked at the woman, a gleam of lust in his eyes. Saint knew that look all too well…
“Nah, never seen her before.”
“It’s my wife’s sister, Porsche. She’s single, one daughter. Right now she is struggling to find a good man, and it just so happens she recently found out the hard way what I am, and what I can do.”
“That’s Xenia’s sister?” His brow arched.
“Yes, they’re fraternal twins. She’s a sweetheart … a nurse, a good mom. A bit naïve when it comes to relationships, but she’s a nice woman with a beautiful soul.”
“I do see a bit of a resemblance now. She and Xenia have some similarities. She’s pretty … real pretty.” The man’s eyes said it all. “Single, huh? But would she make a good wife, Saint?”
“I believe she would, but understand, she comes from a Blood family. Can you rule by example? Can you get past the red and blue, and make purple?”
Hakim visibly swallowed. “If, uh … if she’s my soulmate, I can.”
“She’s never gangbanged, but you know how that family is. The question is, ‘What will you do for love?”’ Hakim stared at Saint’s phone long and hard, then nodded in approval. “Now, it’s one thing to think a woman is pretty, but is she your type?”
“Hell yeah, she’s my type … but am I her type, man?”
“Only one way to find out.” Saint dialed a number. “Hi Porsche, it’s Saint. There’s someone I’d like you to meet…”
…Two weeks later
“It doesn’t matter to me,” Gaspar stated as he signed the papers on the clipboard. “It can go into the master suite if you’d like.”
“Master suite! That sounds so fancy!” Pam giggled. The two stood huddled together in his new high-rise apartment. “I can’t wait to spend the night. I can decorate it too, huh?”
“Of course you can, honey.” He handed the clipboard back to the movers and closed the front door. “Pam, please make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back. Oh! I poured some wine. The glasses are sitting on the dining room table.”
“Wine, huh? You’re goin’ all out! All I need is a 40 and some sticky icky and I’m good.”
Gaspar chuckled as he disappeared down the hall. Pam made her way into the dining room and saw the two wine glasses. One was filled with red wine, the other with white. Thinking that a bit strange, she figured he was simply offering her options. She plucked the red wine from the table, hoping it was more sweet than bitter. Swirling it around like she’d seen on the fine dining shows, she brought it up to her nose and took a sniff.
“Hmmm, this don’t smell half bad.” She took a tiny sip, then gulped it down. “Damn, that’s good.” Smacking her lips, she pulled out a chair from the table and plopped down into it. “What’s taking so long, baby? You said we was going to the movies. We better get going. The show starts in thirty minutes.”
“Be right there!” he called out. Moments later he arrived and stood behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. He kissed the top of her head, causing her cheeks to flush with warmth and her heart to brim with love. The man sat right beside her and cleared his throat.
“You and I aren’t spring chickens.”
“You got that right.” She chuckled. He took her hand, and his smile quickly dissipated.
“Honey, I set a glass of white wine and a glass of red wine on the table for a reason. Those two glasses of wine are different, but they are equal. That’s me and you. We come from two different places, but we’re both wine, and we’re getting better with time. We’re older, yes, but with you, I feel like this is young love… the kind that makes you happy deep inside, gives you butterflies. Pamela, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He coughed, then reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small black box.
“Boy, you betta quit!” She slapped the table, her heart beating a mean percussion. “Don’t be playin’ with me, Gaspar! I’ll smack yo’ ass right back to Portugal if this is some joke!”
“It’s not a joke,” the man said with a smile. “I want to know, will you—”
“Yes, I will marry you, Mr. Claus! Hell, yes! I’mma rock your world, take you to the North Pole and back, a gift under your Christmas tree, Santa baby!” She leapt up and took the man in her arms, squeezing him tight against her bosom. “It’s the way I suck you off, ain’t it? I give bomb ass head. Don’t tell my kids, but my nickname back in the day was Lollipop.” She plopped back down in her seat, certain it was her oral skills that dick-tipped the scales.
“Pam!” The man laughed so hard, he turned red. He wrapped his hands around her face and crushed her lips in a kiss. “You’re impossible. I know I will laugh for the rest of my life as long as you are by my side! You will keep me young! And yes … you make love very well. Our sex life is superb. That aside, here—you haven’t even seen the ring yet.”
He opened the box and showed her one of the most gorgeous pieces of jewelry she’d ever laid eyes on. Sliding the engagement ring upon her finger, she took a deep, long breath and
wiggled her fingers, watching the stone sparkle under the lights. Her eyes teared up and she swiped them away before they had a chance to fall.
“Let me call Xenia and Porsche! Wait till Ira hears this shit! Oh! I need to tell Saint first so he can pass out. You know what? I always wanted a red wedding dress. I want my bridesmaids to wear red, too. I think I’ll have Xenia be my matron of honor. I know Cordella better not wear that silly ass ramen noodle yellow wig! Wait till you meet my friend, Cordella, Gaspar.”
“I look forward to it.” He stood from his seat. “I’m going to grab a couple of bottles of water. I don’t want to pay for it at the movies. They charge too much.”
“I agree! I can fit ’em in my purse. Grab some Doritos, too, baby.”
The man headed into the kitchen while she remained seated there, on cloud nine, unable to stick to one train of thought. And then, she got quiet…
She paused, clutched the side of the chair and allowed a tear to fall, and then another.
I DO deserve love! I deserve all of this and more. It don’t matter where I came from, my past. It don’t matter how old I am, either, and what I look like now that my knees crack and I got a bit of weight around the middle. I’m a good woman, and I found a man who appreciates and loves me for me! He ain’t once tried to change how I talk, walk, or act. I don’t care what race he is; I love him. Because at the end of the day, we all bleed red on the inside…
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
“It’s true, and then you and Dakarai will be in charge.” Saint lay against Hassani’s headboard with his son slumped next to him. Both in their pajamas and the smell of popcorn permeating the room, they’d had a boy’s night in Hassani’s room. They’d played checkers and a few video games, discussed his day and Angel, too. They’d been talking for quite a while and it had gotten late, but discussions regarding Asia and school stayed at the forefront. Now, it was time to get down to business.
“So, you told Uncle Lawrence, Jagger, and Cruz to do it, too?” Hassani looked up at him with his big, brown eyes, just like his mother’s.
“Yes. I told them to be ready to do the same with their children. We want this to be a family business, Hassani, with you in charge of the Rainbeau Knights. See, James didn’t have any children, so he appointed me to take over. But you’ll have a dual role—with helping civilians and other Angel Children as a major focus, too. It needs to be organized, Hassani, just like the Rainbeau Knights are right now. That’s why it works so well, me doing both. But one day, I won’t be able to handle the physical requirements. My mind may still be sharp, and my ideas and wisdom top notch, but I have to be able to fight, to do the tasks and do them properly. Being an Angel Child has rewards, but it takes a lot out of you; your energy gets zapped. I’m still trucking along, but eventually my time will be up. When that day comes, I’ll know it … and then you’ll be in charge.”
“I hope I can do as good, I mean, as well as you, Dad.”
“Don’t worry, I bet you’ll do even better than me. See, you know at an early age what you are, and you have parents that support you. I didn’t always have that, so it made things harder. In fact, I was in denial, and I was angry about a lot of things, Hassani. It took your mother and Uncle Raphael to help me accept who and what I am. Nevertheless, I have a feeling I have a few good years still in me, and as long as I’m living, I will help you and give you all the advice you desire. But, I want to start your training now.”
Hassani nodded in understanding.
“I love you so much, son.” He gently stroked the boy’s hair. Hassani nestled close, laid his head on his shoulder and brought his knees to his chest.
“I love you too, Dad.”
“You know, I’ll never forget the day you were born,” Saint said softly, wrapping his arm around his child. “Your mother and I were so elated, so proud. In this crazy world, we were amazed that we could create something so beautiful. I looked at you, and yeah, my pride grew. Because I made you, and you looked like me and your mother combined. I promised her that I would be the best father I could be, that I would not only be a provider, but a good example for you to follow. I want what’s best for you, and I want you to embrace your gifts and grow. But most of all, Hassani, I want you to be happy.”
He kissed Hassani’s cheek and pulled the covers over their bodies. Soon he felt his son’s head get heavier on him, paired with Hassani’s light snoring, he couldn’t help but smile. After a while, Saint gently slid his arm away, got off the bed, and tucked Hassani in. As he pulled the covers tight, he accidentally knocked over the boy’s Yankee cup. It fell to the ground and rolled under the bed.
“Damn it…” Saint muttered, dropping to his knees. Lifting the covers to reach beneath the frame into the darkness below, he gasped at the sight.
Oh man…
Below his son’s bed were at least five large empty lotion bottles, 2 Vaseline jars practically wiped clean, an empty bottle of baby oil, and his missing shaving cream that had disappeared a couple of weeks prior.
Hassani, you’ve been busy.
Saint stifled a laugh as he grabbed the cup, got back to his feet, and placed it on the nightstand. Looking down at his son, he bent to kiss his forehead.
“Good night and sweet dreams, first born,” he whispered. “Never forget, you are the best of me…”
Good night and sweet dreams is what Daddy said…
A good night and a sweet dream is what I had…
Hassani’s eyes fluttered as he experienced another flash of images that seemed so real, all of his senses were massaged and nudged into place…
The man with the deep caramel complexion and black wavy hair stood at the front of the room. His watch, full of diamonds, shined under the recessed lights, and the early morning sun rose behind him. Palms on the table, he leaned forward, searching the faces of all of the men in the room.
To his right sat a man that shared similar features as himself. His black hair fell down his back, and his golden complexion caught the rising rays of the sun that cascaded across the bridge of his nose and eyes, giving him an angelic appearance. The man tapped his fingers on the table, both of them drumming a similar beat.
To his left was a young woman. Her curly, shoulder length hair framed her cheek as she tilted her head just so, forcing the locks to bounce against her snow-white jacket. The man at the head of the table peered down at his wedding band, and smiled.
“Men, it’s with great honor that I announce the newest member of our organization…” He went on to point to a man who got to his feet, and a moving speech followed, followed by booming applause. Just then, his phone rang. He looked at the caller-ID, and smiled.
“Excuse me, I need to answer this call.” Turning his back, he walked away from the people in the boardroom and approached the vast window.
“Hey, baby. I hope everything is going well. I just wanted to let you know that I got the job! You’re talking to the new obstetric anesthesiologist for New York – Presbyterian Hospital!”
“Yes!” He thrust his fist in the air. “I’m so proud of you. I knew you could do it! We’ll celebrate tonight, all right? I’ll try to get home a little earlier and I’ll have my secretary take care of the dinner reservation.”
“Okay, I’d like that. I’ll call the babysitter. I’m so excited!” she squealed.
“You should be. You earned this. Oh, and Asia, I love you so much, baby.”
“I love you too, Hassani. See you tonight.” She blew him a kiss over the phone and ended the call. He stood there at that window, reflecting on life as the small talk and banter could be heard behind him. Placing his hand on the cool glass, he looked out at the city and smiled. It was all his to protect. So many things had happened over the years.
He finished school with honors, went to college, and obtained his PhD in Economics. He’d gone through a rebellious stage where he just wanted to be like everyone else, too. No more Angel Child talk, no more nothing. Dad let it happen. He didn’t push him or try to beat h
im into submission. He simply said, ‘You’ll be back. And I’ll be here waiting.’
And he did, and he was. Mama and Dad had been so supportive, through the good and the bad times. He and Asia had stayed together for two years after meeting, then parted ways when she left to go to another school. He was heartbroken, but he healed and moved on, as did she—until they ran into each other one evening at a party in Brooklyn, a few years back. It was like destiny. She was just as beautiful, just as smart, but a bit less awkward.
It made him no difference either way. He loved her quirks; they made her who she was. She no longer went by Asia, and preferred to be called by her middle name, but he refused to do that. She’d always been Asia to him, and she’d forever be such. Due to her high intelligence, she was admitted into college at age sixteen and received her Masters by age twenty. He’d known, when he saw her standing in the corner of the room talking to a few of her friends while the music blasted and the alcohol flowed, he was going to get her back, and this time, he wouldn’t let go.
Soon thereafter, they got married and had a son. Now here he was, running a meeting at the Rainbeau Knight headquarters. Dakarai was second in command, and Lawrence, Jagger’s, and Cruz’s sons held high positions, too. Isis was an attorney and a Rainbeau Knight consultant. This was a gentleman’s club, after all—but she was welcomed, never the less.
He shifted his gaze to the large painting of his father, framed in gold. He approached it and bowed his head in reverence. Dad was still very much active in the Rainbeau Knights, still sold out auditoriums across the country. He’d begun his sex therapy practice again, but had handed over the baton for the ‘good fight’. He and Mama had purchased a home in L.A. for the winters, but stayed in New York for the majority of the year. There was no place like home, and though Dad had a bit more silver in his hair, he was still the same Saint, the same man who’d taught him how to be a man, how to believe in himself and reach for the stars, how to treat a woman and be the best he could be. He placed his hand against the picture and read the words beneath it:
