Jaded 2: Broken Love Series

by Renee Tyler

  “Call me, so we can get to know each other better.” He places his wallet back in his pocket, reaching over me again to grab his drink. I make sure to step back this time so our bodies wouldn’t touch. He hollers to the bartender and tells him all of my drinks are on him. I watch as he walks away, wondering how I suddenly find him attractive.

  Before I can make my way back to the VIP section where Charity is, my gait is cut off by Zenobia, my co-worker that still hasn’t figured out her body type. Her puffy stomach and side fat bulge through her grey embroidered mesh V-neck dress. She’s wearing sequined pewter shoes…wait, does she have on kitten heels? What the hell? I take another sip of my drink to keep from laughing; this night just keeps getting better and better.

  “Hey, L’oriel. What you doing here?” she asks with her lip turned up. See, this broad about to make me act real Detroit up in here.

  “Drinking…clearly,” I deadpan and raise my drink. Before I could walk away, a pretty mocha colored girl with smooth skin, looking as if she was descendent of Egyptian royalty, walked up. She had high cheek bones, sharp angular jaw, large almond shaped eyes, a super small waist, and full hips. She stands beside Zenobia with a drink in her hand. She’s wearing a long-sleeved sequined crop top and a sequined maxi skirt with a high slit and strappy sandals.

  “Hey cuz. I saw Cedric over there,” the mocha girl says and realizes that Zenobia is engaged in either a conversation or a stand-off, and turns towards me.

  “Who’s your friend?” Zenobia raises her eyebrow.

  “Brittney, this is my co-worker L’oriel.” She put emphasis on co-worker, as to let her cousin know we aren’t friends.

  “Oh,” her cousin states and turns dramatically away from me, causing her hair to swing. “You ready to go and see if we can get over to Cedric?”

  “Sure,” Zenobia responds, staring me up and down. I grip my drink tighter, willing myself to keep it in my hand and out of her face. Before they fully turn and walk away, Zenobia turns around. “Oh L’oriel, that’s a cute outfit you’re wearing, did you get it from Macy’s?” Oh, this girl. She is really trying it.

  “As a matter of fact, I did. My heels as well. Where’d you get your kitten heels?” I smirk. I hadn’t actually gotten my outfit from Macy’s. I’d gotten it at a boutique downtown, but I wasn’t about to explain all of that. If this cow wanted to try and clown me, I was ready for her ass. I took another sip of my drink.

  “Kitten heels? These are Stuart Weitzman, and my dress is Olivia and Alice. You wouldn’t know that though. They don’t sell it at Macy’s.” She is really feeling some type of way because I suggested an outfit from Macy’s to her fat ass.

  “Girl, Stuart Weitzman or not, you’re still up in the club looking like Easter Sunday. What, you mad because I get more shine in my Macy’s clothes–you mad because you can’t match my fly no matter what I’m wearing? I can make an outfit from Forever 21 look like I got it straight from a Paris catwalk. And you can’t even manage to properly work Stuart Weitzman and Olivia and Alice. Girl, go sit your kitten heel-wearing ass down somewhere.” I hated kitten heels. I took them as disrespect to its sister high heel. I figure either wear a flat or a real heel that’s three and a half inches or more. The in between was just ridiculous – it ruined the shoe.

  I knew I’d just pissed her off when I saw the vein in her neck beating wildly. I placed one foot in front of the other, prepared to try and knock this odd-shaped female on her ass if she tried me.

  “I just thought with you fucking Troy and all, he’d help you step up your wardrobe game.” Her cousin suddenly looked like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

  “Tr-Troy Williamson–Troy? You’re with Troy?” She looked back and forth between me and Zenobia, waiting for one of us to answer. I cut my eyes at her. I’m not about to get into a conversation about Troy with these broads. They’re not about to talk me to death. Charity appeared with a look that held mixture of pissed off and amusement on her face. She moved to stand on the other side of Zenobia.

  “Hey Zenobia,” Charity smirked, staring her up and down. “Girl, those shoes are cute. Are they Stuart Weitzman?” Charity asked, clearly goading her and she took the bait.

  “Yes,” she said as she smiled over at me. She turns back to Charity, and her lip turns up as she notices Charity’s dress. “I see you with your Emilio Pucci. I wore one similar to that last year.” Zenobia raises her eyebrow and smirks, then turns towards Charity. She looks over to her cousin for reinforcement. However, her cousin is preoccupied with staring at me. She appears to be studying my every feature. I cut my eyes back to Charity and Zenobia. Charity gave the brightest smile as she turned toward me.

  “L’oriel, didn’t Mrs. Brooks have those exact same shoes and similar dress on Sunday? In fact, weren’t we complimenting how nice she dresses for a seventy-year-old woman? Mrs. Brooks was in her Sunday’s best.” Charity gives a reminiscent nod. “However, unlike you Zenobia, Mrs. Brooks understands she needs Spanx to smooth the humps and bumps she’s gained over the years. Since you love reminding us that you shop at Neiman Marcus and Saks, you are aware that they also sell hosiery that’s geared towards body shaping, though I’m not sure what could be done to alter your odd configuration,” Charity ended with a grin. “You have a good evening, ladies,” she smugly says as Zenobia stands there with her mouth hung open, and her cousin still trying to commit me to memory. Charity grabs my hand and we head back to VIP laughing so hard that we have to lean on one another for support.

  “Girl. She was ready to knock us out,” I say as we take our seats back in VIP.

  “Zenobia not about that life. Girl, when I walked up and heard you tell her she was looking like Easter Sunday, I almost died.” We continue to giggle and talk about Zenobia’s attire.

  Our laughing immediately stops when the DJ drops Cash Money taking over for the 99 and 2000, and Juvenile’s Back That Ass Up starts playing. Just like that, Zenobia and her biscuit shape is forgotten. We jump to our feet and began to grind as Juvenile tells us, “Girl your working with some ass yeah. You bad yeah.” I look across the dance floor and see Chris staring with so much lust in his eyes that my movements almost falter. I peel my eyes from him to find Zenobia’s cousin Brittney staring daggers at me. She’s so engulfed in looking at me that she isn’t giving any attention to Cedric, who looks as if he wants to drink her through a straw.

  Charity and I don’t get to discuss why she feels the need to date a married man, because we’ve had way too many drinks by the end of the night. Her and Calvin practically suck each other’s tongues out their mouths on the way to drop me off at home. He refused to let me drive. I press myself against the door and peer out the window, attempting to ignore them. When we pull up in front of my condo, I don’t wait for his driver to open the door for me. I practically fall out of the door. I thought they were watching to make sure I got in the house safe. However, when I go to close my blinds after I wash my face of my make-up, brush my teeth, put on my pajamas, and grab a bottled water, I see Calvin’s limo is still parked in the same spot.

  “Nasty asses.” I shake my head. I check my locks and head to bed. My phone vibrates, alerting me of a text message. I look down and see Troy’s name on the screen.

  Troy: Did you have fun?

  I use the emoji of the girls dancing and the smiley with his tongue sticking out.

  Troy: I’m glad you had fun with your girl. Rest up little girl. (blowing kiss emoji).

  ̃

  Troy

  Fucking Chris. This joker trying so hard to get with L’oriel, though I can’t blame him; but she’s mine. I thought I sent a clear enough message when I had her wobbling past him. I guess he can’t take a hint. I don’t know if I’m angrier at him or Brittney. Her ass just felt the need to send me pictures. She sent me a picture of Chris looking across the room at L’oriel like he was a lion and she was his prey.

  I must have been wearing too many suits lately. Chris knows how I get down. He’s been ar
ound for a long time. He knows there have been quite a few times where I had to show cats there’s more behind this suit. For instance, the incident that happened to that mutha-fucking wanna be producer Cash. He allowed himself to be fooled by the fact that I attended college. That was ten years ago, and he’s still unable to feed himself and never will.

  Besides, I haven’t forgotten about him meeting behind my back with Reggie. Who would have thought that Cedric had more loyalty than his manager?

  It took severe restraint for me not to show up at that club tonight, knock him out, throw her over my shoulder, and snatch her ass right out of that tiny ass mini skirt. I mean damn, did her ass get bigger in the two months I was gone? I zoom in on her ass several times, trying to figure out if it has gotten bigger. I can’t believe I’m in my damn feelings right now.

  I had to text L’oriel to see if she’d respond. I don’t even want to think about how I would react if she hadn’t. I had my security quit tailing her when I was in Miami. Ole boy hadn’t been anywhere near her, so I felt it was a little bit stalker-ish to continue. I don’t know if Chris even came home with her. Regardless, I’ve never let a little competition stop me before. There was no need to become bothered by it know, though if he knew what was best for him he’d tread lightly.

  I could tell by her reaction to me in church and during our FaceTime conversation that she still wants me. I know she just wants me to prove that I’ll be there. I know I left her hanging for a couple of months, but I had to wrap my head around her being married. Now I’m back to claim her heart; I’ll let her think she’s in charge for now. I owe her that.

  I let out an exaggerated breath as my phone lights up in my hand again. Brittney had been blowing up my phone after she sent the pictures, thinking she was giving me damaging information on L’oriel when in fact, it was just encouraging me to show L’oriel and the world that she’s mine.

  I don’t know what has Brittney out of pocket; she knows we had a friends with benefits type of friendship. That’s why our relationship lasted so long, because she stayed in her lane and didn’t let her emotions get the best of her. I never kept side pieces around long, typically because it’s a recipe for disaster—especially for a man with a few coins in his pockets.

  When a woman gets attached to you, that can wreak all kinds of havoc on your life. I should have known better than to keep Brittney around so long. I know as much as women try to play the game like they can fuck without attachment, it’s bullshit. I believe women weren’t built to be that way. Their natural instinct is to eventually seek companionship. I’ve seen it with my aunt and her friends growing up, declaring guys ain’t shit so they’re going to beat them at their own game. In the end, they get their feelings hurt. I’ve been fucking Brittney for years and just recently rejected her. Now she’s feeling some type of way. I should have never told her that I was with someone else. That’s the most basic rule when fucking with a side chick. You never tell her you’ve chosen someone that makes you want to be faithful, because of course she’s been trying to show you she’s down enough to play the position as your main chick that changed your player ways. Damn, this wanting to be in a real relationship has me off my game.

  The fact that she’s even in Atlanta speaks volumes. She hadn’t visited here in years unless I would summon her. Now she wants to hang out with her cousin on her own accord. According to her, she doesn’t even like her cousin, so give the fact that she’s here hanging around, I know it was to gather information on the girl that she thinks stole me from her when I was never hers to begin with. She knew what she signed up for, but hurt feelings and ego have her forgetting our agreement.

  ̃

  I groaned inwardly as I held the door open for L’oriel as she walked into the restaurant. After weeks of persuading, she’s finally agreed to have dinner with me. Man, I don’t know if I’d ever had to put this much work into a relationship. However, her ass and hips had definitely rounded out. Her denim dark washed jeans look painted on, and her cropped blazer allows me full access to stare at her rounded globes, sitting atop toned thighs. I smiled to myself, because I’d like to think I had something to do with that. When I first had sex with L’oriel, I could tell she hadn’t had deep penetration. Her canal was so tight, I thought she was a virgin. Thinking about L’oriel’s fat, wet, tight…yep, my rod is working just fine. I had to briefly divert my eyes so that I wouldn’t offend the seated patrons of this restaurant that were eye level with my dick.

  After we were seated and had ordered our food and drinks, I immediately jumped in.

  “So, what’s going on with your divorce?” I didn’t want to waste any more time wondering if she had made good on getting divorced or not. Even though I missed her like I’ve never missed anyone else, if she hadn’t at least filed for a divorce, we’d be back to where we were in my kitchen.

  “I’ve been divorced for a month.” She looked at me and pursed her lips. I know she wanted to tell me “told you so,” or something equally smart ass. It was all over her face. However, at the time how was I supposed to know that she was serious about leaving her husband?

  “So how are you feeling about that?” I asked. I needed to know if she had any regrets. She gave me a look that said what do you think? But instead of saying it, she took a sip of her lemonade through her straw.

  L’oriel is so unaware of how she affects me, and how bad I want her. Her glossy lips around that straw causes my wood to stir. I’ve never been all in with a female before; this is unfamiliar territory. I’m not a man that wears his heart on his sleeve. I keep it protected, but she has me looking at things I’ve never paid attention to – like engagement rings. Giving me direct eye contact, she began.

  “At first, I felt really numb. For so long, he and everyone else told me I couldn’t take care of myself. I believed it. I never had to make a real decision for myself. The only thing I knew for sure was that I could fix his messes. However, I’d been here doing it on my own. Finding my own way. Figuring out what I wanted. I’d already achieved the freedom that I’d never thought I could achieve when I moved here, then purchased my own place. When I walked away from my marriage, I’d already decided before I set out on the 75 express-way that my marriage was over. Whether I survived on my own or not. So by the time I filed the paperwork, the fear of the unknown was gone. The only thing that was left to deal with was the guilt.”

  She took another long sip through her straw to distract herself from the tears I saw gathering in her eyes, then continued.

  “The guilt of feeling like I went on and was making strides, and I did it on my own. I didn’t need him. I actually did have the power to do things on my own. I really could figure out who L’oriel was as a woman. However, he was there struggling. He’s still unsure of who Shane is, and how he can make his life different for himself. So at first, I felt guilty. You’d think that after he told me how I couldn’t make it without him, I’d want to rub it in. However, that victory didn’t seem so sweet knowing that he was having a hard time. So initially, the guilt I felt made me numb. But I had to realize that his struggles weren’t about me. Shane has issues that have absolutely nothing to do with me.”

  “Then once I received the papers in the mail and it was really all over, I felt…” She paused and adjusted herself in her seat, and pulled her shoulders back. “Like a woman. I’m no longer the little girl feeling like I have to wait for the answers from someone else. I can make my own decisions and live with the consequences. I’m fine with the consequences, good or bad. I’m fine with however Shane chooses to respond to our marriage ending. I didn’t put our marriage in danger in the first place, he did; so why should I feel bad that it fell apart? If he does, then he should forgive himself and move on. I’ve forgiven him. I’m not bitter, angry, or mad.”

  When L’oriel looked at me, I could see the pride shining through her green eyes. She was proud of herself, and had become more confident and self-assured. I hated that I’d disappeared on her and wasn’t there f
or her. I didn’t partake in her growth, nor did I get the opportunity to watch it bloom. I knew it was there all along. I just wish I was there. I’m thankful I’m able to see it now. I hadn’t been the friend that I suggested that we become.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” She looked up at me, eyes still glazed over from unshed tears.

  “It’s all good. I get it now. I was angry at first, but I understand. I wasn’t very forthcoming. I was so worried about what you’d think of me. I was so used to being judged. I didn’t want that in my new start. It was silly of me to think that I wouldn’t be subject to judgment and ridicule, just because I’d left Detroit. That just wasn’t a reality; however, I finally figured it out. My past doesn’t define me. However, it shaped and molded me to the woman I am now. So no worries.”

  I nod my head in understanding. I, of all people, understand what it feels like to not want to be judged. I’m the kid who grew up with a crack head mother and the drug dealing, jailbird daddy. I definitely understand judgment. I’d been teased. I’d been told I’d never amount to anything. I was laughed at when I started my record company. I was told it wouldn’t be successful because everyone was starting record companies. I never wanted L’oriel to feel I was one of those people that would judge her. I was so happy to hear about her growth. I was so incredibly proud of her.

  “I just want you to know, I wasn’t judging you. I wasn’t sure if your relationship was over. You two were still talking, and I didn’t know enough about the situation to see if it was truly over or not. I didn’t want to put myself out there and have you go back to your husband. However, that doesn’t excuse me not being there as a friend. I’m happy you came out of that situation happy and confident. So besides finalizing your divorce, what else have you been up to?”