Message from a Mistress

by Niobia Bryant

  Who made the first move?

  When?

  Where?

  In my house?

  In my…bed?

  All through college Jessa and Aria’s friendship was based on competition—grades, clothes, boyfriends. All of it. The whole nine.

  But never had Aria thought Jessa wanted to top her badly enough to steal her husband away.

  Was Kingston even fishing? Maybe he had already left. Maybe he was already in Jessa’s new house—their house.

  Aria felt breathless as tears welled up in her eyes. She blinked them away as she pursed her lips and released a deep—and hopefully—cleansing breath. She banged her fist against the top of the island.

  “Okay, I need that drink,” she muttered aloud, opening the door to the Sub-Zero. It was empty and as clean as when it came off the showroom floor.

  Aria made her way back to the living room and snatched up her drink from the bar. She downed it in one gulp but she hardly felt the fire it burned down her throat and in the pit of her stomach. She was numb.

  Jaime accepted the shot of tequila that Renee handed her, but she hardly took a sip. Alcohol was not the solution to the drama unfolding in their lives, but she wasn’t going to stop her friends if they needed it.

  Alcohol did not equal answers. And Jaime needed answers. Reaching in her purse for her cell phone, she slid off the stool and walked away from the bar as she dialed the security desk.

  “Security.”

  Jaime eased her hair behind her ear. “Lucky, this is Mrs. Hall. Listen, did Jessa leave a forwarding address? I misplaced it when she gave it to me and I wanted to send her some flowers to welcome her to her new home,” Jaime lied with ease as she stood by the front window.

  “But I thought you ladies didn’t know she moved?” Lucky asked.

  Jaime’s eyes glinted. Now this buffoon want to get some sense? “Lucky, she asked us not to say anything about moving and I guess we thought you didn’t know, you know,” she said lightly, wanting to strangle his ass.

  “Trust me, Mrs. Hall, I know everything about Richmond Hills,” he said cockily.

  Jaime bit her lips to keep from yelling: “So did you know that bitch was screwing my damn husband?” But she didn’t. She composed herself. “Lucky, the address?”

  “Well, actually she didn’t leave a forwarding, but I do know the moving truck went to Saddle River because they stopped here for directions to the interstate.”

  Jaime’s shoulders dropped in disappointment. “Okay, all right. Okay. Um. Thanks, Lucky. Thank you.”

  She ended the call, taking a moment to compose herself before she turned around. She walked back over to her friends as emotions she fought hard not to expose nearly strangled her. She fought hard to maintain her composure as Aria and Renee gnawed at the drama like a starving dog would a bone.

  “You know, we joked a lot about Jessa, but I never thought she would do something like this,” Aria admitted.

  Jaime nodded. “Jessa definitely should be ashamed of herself. You just don’t do this to friends and marriages and homes. It’s not right.”

  “Who was this woman we let into our lives?” Renee asked in agreement.

  Aria took a sip of her Patrón and winced. “She fooled the hell out of my ass,” she spat.

  “No, baby, she fooled us all,” Renee said in anger.

  Silently, Jaime wondered if both Jessa and her husband had pulled the wool over her eyes….

  Jaime loved Eric endlessly. From the moment she said yes to his romantic moonlit proposal, she knew she would be with him forever and a day in marital bliss. Everything about their courtship had been a dream for her. He had been a perfect part of her perfect plan for her life.

  They’d met when he brought his mother to their church for an afternoon worship service. He just happened to sit beside her, and Jaime had found the short and slender man attractive. The attraction was mutual because he returned to their church that following Sunday—without his mother—and asked her out for a date after service.

  Jaime smiled as she recalled how nervous he had seemed on their first date at a soul food restaurant. But even that had drawn her to him. That and the fact that he was a handsome, well-mannered, college-educated, churchgoing, home-owning, business-owning man. When she expressed to him her desire to remain a virgin until she wed, he completely understood and even expressed that he respected her decision. What more could she ask for?

  And for one year they were nearly inseparable as they slid with ease from dating into a relationship. It seemed only right that he propose one year to the day after their first date. They wed in a beautiful church ceremony one year after that with all of their family, sorors, fraternity brothers, and well-wishers in attendance on a beautiful sunny day.

  Complete fairy tale for Jaime.

  Everything had been perfect. Everything.

  Until the night of their honeymoon.

  She had been so anxious to finally get beyond heated kisses and lots of groping to make love with her husband. And what better locale than a beautiful hotel suite on a secluded beach in Jamaica.

  Seeing Eric naked for the first time, Jaime realized the one downside of not being intimate with a man before the wedding. She had no idea what she was getting—for the rest of her married life. And she had to admit that the sight of his slender dick had made her pause. Then, as she lay there beneath him with her eyes to the ceiling, she wished she was lost in passion and not washed over in confusion. She wasn’t even sure if she had cum before he shuddered, pumped twice, and was done.

  So far it was a fail on size and delivery.

  As he slept away his satisfaction and left her completely starved, Jaime dressed and went down to the bar. She bought a drink and bummed a cigarette—her first but not last smoke.

  Jaime had been hoping for that spectacular explosion of fireworks and passion that her friends told her about. But where was it?

  When she returned from her honeymoon, all of her friends and sorors wanted to know about it. And so began Jaime’s life of lies and pretenses as she looked them all dead in the eye and flat-out lied, even embellishing and adding details she could only wish Eric had in his sexual repertoire.

  She almost fooled herself as well as she fooled them all. She only hoped things would get better and they would find their groove.

  They didn’t.

  Jaime sighed as she looked around their bedroom. Satin sheets and rose petals were on the queen-sized bed. A bottle of champagne, a bowl with plump, juicy strawberries, and a can of whipped cream sat on a tray in the middle of the bed. A medley of Luther Vandross, O’Jays, Isley Brothers, Maxwell, and other sultry slow jams was playing on the surround system running throughout their house. Scented candles were everywhere.

  She smoothed the silk over the bright red crotchless teddy she wore with a serious pair of five-inch “fuck me” pumps. Her make-up was heavy. Her perfume was heavier.

  She followed all the instructions in the dozen different self-help books she’d bought on reviving the passion in your marriage. She had a few more tricks she planned to deliver as well.

  Jaime was ready for a better sex life to match every other aspect of their marriage. Eric spoiled her endlessly—except in the bedroom. Enough was dang-on enough.

  Picking up the cordless phone, she called Eric’s cell phone.

  “Hey, baby.”

  “Where are you?” she asked as she sat down on the leather bench at the foot of the bed.

  “I had to stop at Jessa’s.”

  Jaime sat up straighter. “For what, honey?” she asked, keeping her tone calm and polite like a lady even though she felt like cussing like a sailor.

  “She needed me to put up some shelves she bought today,” he told her.

  “Well, I have something I need you to do at home,” she told him, rising to her feet and almost stumbling in her heels as she tried to pace the hardwood floors.

  “As soon as I do this, I’m coming straight home.”

&
nbsp; Jaime hung up on him and then flung the phone. It ricocheted off the bed and knocked over the champagne bottle and whipped cream can like dominoes.

  “Okay, I am sick of Jessa Bell,” she snapped, kicking off the heels because she was sure she was no longer in the mood to fuck.

  When Jaime moved into Eric’s spacious home in Richmond Hills and finally met his best friend/neighbor, Jessa Bell, she had taken an instant dislike to the woman. He had mentioned her before, but Jaime hadn’t been expecting a tall, beautiful woman with golden skin and hair.

  Her immediate thought as she eyed the woman whose body made an hourglass look like a pencil: “Oh, heck no. What man with a working dick can be friends with this woman and not want her?”

  But then the fact that she appeared to be happily married herself had quelled some of Jaime’s suspicions.

  But then it seemed that any time her husband, Marc, went out of town for business, Jessa was forever calling Eric to help her with things around her house. Fix this. Mow that. Lift this. Move that.

  Well, Jaime wasn’t at all sure just what Eric was fixing, mowing, lifting, and moving when he was at Jessa’s. She understood that the woman’s husband had passed, and Eric swore that he saw Jessa as nothing more than a good friend, but Jaime was no fool.

  She bit the bright red gloss from her lips as she paced the floor. When she happened to look up and catch a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror, she actually jumped in surprise. The hair. The make-up. The teddy. She looked like one of those video girls.

  Shaking her head to clear it, Jaime thought about what to do about Jessa. And then it came to her. She raced about the room blowing out the gazillion candles before she dressed in one of those velour sweatsuits and cleaned some of the make-up from her face.

  Jaime zoomed down the stairs and out the house to walk the short distance to Jessa’s. Her back stiffened to see her husband’s Lexus parked in her drive, but she forged ahead, knocking on the door.

  It opened.

  She barely spared Jessa a glance as she eyed Eric on the floor surrounded by all the components of a shelving unit. He looked confused but smiled at seeing her. “Hey, baby.”

  “Hi, Jessa,” she said, shifting her eyes back to the beauty.

  “Hey, Jaime, come on in. I had to borrow Eric again. I wanted to surprise Marc with this shelving unit for his birthday,” she said in that soft and husky voice of hers.

  “Yes, Eric is Mr. Fix-it,” Jaime said with a big fake smile as she looked at her husband. “Actually, I thought I would come over and help since I was home doing nothing.”

  “Come right on in. The more hands the better,” Jessa said, stepping back to wave Jaime over.

  Jaime didn’t usually fool up with Jessa, but she had suddenly decided that perhaps it was good to keep friends close, but it was even better to keep enemies closer.

  In time Jaime went from hanging out with Jessa to watch her to just enjoying the woman’s company. Her suspicions had faded away and they had become close. Jaime had truly considered the woman a reliable friend.

  But now in the light of this betrayal—be it of Renee, Aria, or herself—Jaime wished she had stuck to her original judgment of the woman and kept a close eye on her with her husband.

  CHAPTER 7

  When you look for shit, you find shit.

  After nearly an hour of searching Jessa’s house, Aria now believed that was not always the case. Nothing. Not one clue. Not one hint.

  And so the torture and the waiting continued.

  She walked out of the study and followed the sound of her friends’ voices to the foyer.

  “Maybe they met at hotels or something,” Renee said, running her hands through her hair. “Maybe they never fucked…here.”

  “Maybes…what-ifs…coulda, woulda, shoulda…shit!” Aria threw her hands up in the air before she walked over to the bar and grabbed their purses to then walk back and hand to them. “Let’s just get out of here.”

  “I agree,” Jaime said, turning to give the house one last look.

  Aria breezed through them to rush out of the front door, and once she stepped outside, she breathed deeply of the smell of suburbia—where more drama swelled behind closed doors and facades.

  Jaime and Renee walked out of the house. Aria used her key to lock the door. “I shoulda fucked Malcolm,” she told them as she gave the house one last long look before she turned to face them. “At least by now I would be somewhere knocked the fuck out and sex funky.”

  “Who the hell is Malcolm?” Jaime asked as she popped several pieces of gum into her mouth.

  “The cabbie,” Renee offered.

  “Oh, please.” Jaime blew air through her teeth and waved her hand dismissively. “Besides, having an affair is so beneath you, Aria.”

  They all fell silent. No one moved. A car went slowly driving up the street and they all lifted their hands to wave briefly.

  “It’s so funny that life goes on but ours is stuck in this stupid-ass limbo,” Renee said as she looked at the neighboring houses, at women on their knees gardening and husbands mowing lawns. Children playing. People leaving and arriving home. “I feel like time is stuck at the exact moment we got that stupid-ass message.”

  “I’m so sick of this shit,” Aria admitted, her strong stance weakening as the effects of the liquor made her emotional.

  “Aww, baby,” Renee cooed as she pulled her younger friend into her arms and held her tightly as she rocked her.

  “It’s me. I know it’s me,” Aria said in a whisper as she stared down the street at her house as a telling memory came to her. She wondered how the hell she had ignored her instincts….

  Aria smiled into her goblet of sangria as she stepped out of the kitchen out onto her deck. Their spacious lawn was filled with nearly a hundred friends and neighbors enjoying good music, good drinks, good barbecue. The bartender was set up in the corner. The deejay was in an opposite corner serving up good music. Kingston’s father was at the grill putting some fire to ribs, chicken, pork chops, and quail. Tables ran along the side filled buffet style with all types of side dishes. People talked, danced, mingled, ate, and just were having a good time under the welcoming cool of night and the large fans stationed in the four corners of the yard.

  She shook her head thinking what a different set it would have been back in her hometown—just as fun, but different as hell.

  Every summer since they moved into Richmond Hills three years ago, Aria and Kingston had thrown a huge three-day barbecue that everyone looked forward to. It was the jam.

  She swayed to the sounds of Frankie Beverly & Maze’s “We Are One” as she took a look around to make sure everyone was happy. “Awww,” she sighed at Renee and Jackson in the center of the dance floor holding each other close as they swayed to the music. She was particularly pleased because she knew her friend’s recent entrance into the workforce had led to tension. Jackson wanted a stay-at-home wife and Renee thought she would go crazy if she had to continue staying at home—especially with her youngest child in school all day.

  Her eyes sought and found Jaime and Eric. She wasn’t at all surprised to see them sitting together in a cozy corner with their heads bent as they talked. Aria fought the urge to mock throw up because they were the most sickening affectionate couple she had ever met. Everything about them was just perfect, and that usually gave Aria a perfect damn headache. She laughed a little as she pictured them smiling through their whole fuck session.

  She saw Marc over by the grill, but her eyes searched the crowd for Jessa and she didn’t see her anywhere. Aria frowned a bit. Maybe she went to the restroom, Aria thought.

  “Ooh, that’s my song,” Aria exclaimed when Al Green’s “Let’s Stay Together” came on. She threw her drink up in the air as she searched for Kingston to dance with her.

  When she didn’t see him she turned and walked back inside the house. “Kingston, where you at, baby?” she called out, setting her glass on the island.

  Aria went
into her living room. “Kingston,” she called out again.

  Lights flashed against the wall as a car turned into the driveway. Thinking more guests had arrived, Aria glanced out the window. She saw her own vehicle. The door opened and when the car light came on, she saw Jessa in the passenger seat. “They must have made a store run,” she said.

  But she paused when they climbed out of the vehicle with nothing. No packages. Not nary a nothing in sight that could have been purchased at a store.

  Aria stood back from the window a bit and watched as they stopped to talk and laugh. Jessa’s hand lightly landed on Kingston’s arm and Aria cocked a brow. When Jessa walked around to the back of the house, Kingston turned to watch her leave before he turned and cut across their lawn to enter the house through the front door.

  No, Aria, don’t trip, she told herself as she turned on her heels to face the door, surprised at her own thoughts of something foul going on between her friend and her husband.

  Kingston walked in looking like her loyal and faithful husband in his orange polo and khaki cargo shorts. He paused in surprise to see her standing there. “Hey, baby,” he said, walking over to pull her into his embrace.

  Aria hated that she smelled him for some hint of Jessa. “Where you been?” she asked. “Our song is playing.”

  “Awww, you was looking for Big Poppa, huh?” he teased as he used his hands to jiggle her buttocks in the strapless sundress she wore.

  Aria leaned back to look up into his eyes even as her heart pounded crazy as hell in her chest. “Where you been?” she asked again, bringing her hands up to massage his shoulders the way that he loved.

  “Your mama sent me for some cards,” he told her, releasing one of her ass cheeks to reach in his side pocket for two decks of cards.

  “You know Mama loves to play pitty-pat,” she told him, only feeling a little less suspicious.

  “Damn, you smell good, baby,” he whispered against her neck as he planted soft kisses in the soft hollow above her collarbone.