Date Cute Marry Rich

by Alexis Nicole

  “He told me that with me by his side, he could go far! And that every place he went, he was going to take me with him. He promised me a life that was better than what I had—which was going to be difficult since my father had provided so well for me and my mother.”

  She paused, and I wondered if I was supposed to speak. But I still didn’t have anything to say. I mean, she still hadn’t said anything about the fact that I’d been sleeping with her husband.

  Kayla said, “And for a year or two, it was working.” She shrugged. “I couldn’t really tell you when it began to fall apart. Maybe it was when we realized that we had nothing but lust in common.”

  Whew! This was some deep stuff, and now I wished I had just turned around and run the other way.

  Suddenly, she looked straight at me. “It’s not that way with you two, is it? You have a lot more in common than just lust.”

  My heart was beating so fast and hard that I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to answer her and sound coherent. So I just nodded—a little. And then I prayed for my life.

  Kayla nodded, too. “How long have you been with Malcolm?”

  I swallowed. “A little over a year. But, Mrs. Parks, I didn’t know he was married.” I knew that line was a sorry line. How many women had said that?

  But for some reason, Kayla didn’t look at me as if she thought I was lying. She looked like she believed me.

  Then she asked, “How far along are you?”

  What? Shocker! Oh my God. What was I supposed to say?

  “You can tell me, Chyanne. It’s all over you. You’re pregnant, and it’s Malcolm’s child, I’m sure. How far along?” she asked again.

  “Three months,” squeaked out of me.

  She nodded. “Then I’m doing the right thing. I’m going to divorce Malcolm. I’m going to give him what he wants, which is his freedom. I’m going to let him go.”

  I felt as if I was beginning to hyperventilate. I had to tell myself to breathe in, breathe out. I just prayed that Kayla didn’t blame me for all this.

  She said, “And I would like you to represent me.”

  “What?” I screamed, then got myself back under control. “I can’t represent you, for lots of reasons. I’m not a divorce attorney, not to talk about the conflict of interest.”

  She shook her head at my words. “I don’t care, Chyanne. I know you can handle it, and I want you.”

  I sat there and stared at Kayla as if she had lost her mind. But she just stared back as if she meant exactly what she said. This was incredible—the wife and the mistress on the same side.

  What had my life come to?

  Chapter 26

  Skye

  I had been through this list before: smart, sweet, kind, and fine—exactly like Noah. Though, Trent wasn’t anything like Noah. Not only were they different physically, but they were completely different in every other way. Trent was all about making money, and he never stopped thinking about it, never stopped trying to make it. We’d been dating for a month now, and though we talked on the phone every day, I could still count the number of times we’d gone out together.

  “There’s always money to be made, baby,” he often said to me.

  Not that I was mad at him. ’Cause when Trent Hamilton did go out, he knew how to treat a lady. He took me to the most exclusive restaurants in Manhattan. He showered me with gifts, everything from flowers to a gold bracelet, which I told him I couldn’t accept and he told me he couldn’t take back. The thing that I loved about Trent was that though he came from privilege and absolutely wanted nothing but the best in his life, he didn’t act like a spoiled brat. He always asked where I wanted to go, what I wanted to eat, what I wanted to do. It was always about me first.

  It would’ve been easy to fall in love with a man like Trent, if I didn’t still have Noah all up in my heart.

  I cannot explain why Noah was still in my head. I don’t know—maybe it was because I loved his passion. Maybe it was because he was so different from anyone I’d ever dated before. Maybe it was because we were both creative and I could talk to him for hours about my career.

  I could talk to Trent, too. He was always interested in me. But there was a difference. Trent listened to me; Noah felt me.

  But whatever mixed-up feelings I had in my heart, Trent was still here making each time that I spent with him more romantic than before. And tonight was no different. We were in one of his homes, this one in Greenwich, Connecticut. And once again, I was sitting, watching a man prepare a meal for me. Only this time, I wasn’t in a studio loft. We were in a massive mansion. Trent said that it was eight thousand square feet and housed seven bedrooms, an office, a library, a gym, and a host of other rooms.

  “Are you ready for this?”

  I’d been waiting for Trent outside, on the deck that overlooked a golf course that was part of one of Connecticut’s many country clubs. It was one of the most peaceful places I’d ever been—the thick green trees that surrounded the course made me feel like I wasn’t anywhere near New York City.

  I grinned as Trent rested the salad bowl in the middle of the wrought-iron table. “Are you sure I can’t help with anything?”

  “Nope.” He shook his head. “This is my show because when you finally invite me to your place and offer to cook, I’m gonna sit back and let you do your thing.” He went back into the kitchen and returned with the platters of rice pilaf and grilled shrimp.

  After he blessed the food, which was something else that I loved about Trent, and he served me, I sat back and enjoyed the light dinner, trying my best not to compare it to the Jamaican lamb stew I’d had with Noah.

  “So, I want to talk to you about something,” Trent said.

  Uh-oh! I never liked it when conversations began with that. “What?”

  “I know you want to have your own label and your own studio. When are you thinking of getting started?”

  I waved my fork in the air. “It won’t be for a while. Not only do I have a lot to learn, but it takes a lot to step out there on your own.”

  “A lot? Like what?”

  “Like connections and money.” I laughed. “All the things I don’t have.”

  “But all the things I do.” He paused. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Why don’t you start your own company now? I can help you with the money and the connections.”

  Talk about being stunned. This was not what I expected. “I . . . I can’t let you do that.”

  “You’re right. You can’t let me but it’s what I want to do. You are talented enough to step out there on your own, and it would be a great investment for me.” He put his fork down. “Plus, Skye, I really do care about you . . . deeply care. You’ve made such an impact on my life, and I want to do the same to yours.”

  “Wow!”

  He chuckled. “So, is that a yes?”

  I shook my head. “No, really, Trent. I can’t let you do that.”

  “Not even if I want to? Not even because I care so much for you?”

  “I care for you, too, a lot. But I’m not there yet and I don’t think you and I are there yet.”

  “But we can be.” He stared at me as if he was trying to see right through me. “What’s holding you back, Skye? What’s stopping you from loving me the way I’m falling in love with you?”

  Another wow! The L word. I really wasn’t ready for this.

  “Is there someone else?” he asked.

  “No! Not at all. It’s just that . . . I’ve dated a lot. And I want to be . . . careful. I want for both of us to be sure.”

  He nodded. “I can respect that.” He lifted his fork and slipped a jumbo shrimp into his mouth. “So, time . . . that’s all we need, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, I’ll give you some time. But I just want you to know that while we have all this time, I’m going to pull out all the stops. I’m about to sweep you off your feet.”

  I laughed. “Even more than you’ve already done? I can’t imagine that.”<
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  “You right about that, baby. You can’t even imagine what I’m about to do.” He grinned. “Think you can handle it? Think you can handle me?”

  I took his hand and curled my fingers around his. “I can handle it! Just bring it on.”

  When he leaned over to kiss me, our lips lingered together. And, I forgot all about Noah—at least for the moment.

  Chapter 27

  Devin

  It was girls’ night out—or should I say “girls’ night in”? ’Cause my girls and I were having our first New York City slumber party. It was something that we always did back in Atlanta, but we’d all been so busy trying to be successful that we just didn’t have the time to get together like we used to.

  “Okay,” I said, slipping a piece of pizza from the box on Skye’s coffee table. We had all the goodies, everything that could do damage to a girl’s waistline: pizza, fried chicken, french fries, and hamburgers. And in the kitchen, dessert waited—ice cream and all kinds of cheesecakes, and my favorite, double-chocolate, double-decker chocolate mousse cake. “So, who’s gonna go first?” I asked. But then, before Skye or Chyanne could say anything, I said, “I am!”

  My girls laughed, just like I wanted them to.

  “I got some big news,” I said. I paused for dramatic effect. “I’m gonna ask Antonio to move in with me.”

  Okay, my news must have been more shocking than I thought, because my girls sat there for a full two minutes, not saying a word.

  “What?” I said, looking at them. “You seem surprised.”

  “We are,” Chyanne said, putting down the fried chicken leg she held in her hand. “I mean, moving in together . . . That’s a big step.”

  “Yeah,” Skye said. “And we’ve only met the brother once, and that was only for a hot second.”

  Yeah, that was a problem. We were here in New York City, and although the three of us were close, we didn’t know much about each other’s significant others. Part of the reason was that time thing I was talking about before, but sometimes, I wondered if it was just so that we could keep our times together special. You know, not letting anyone step into our space when it was just the three of us.

  “So, you got to really meet Antonio before he can move in?” I asked. “What’s that about?”

  “You know how we do,” Skye kidded. “We have to approve.”

  “Well, if you guys have to approve of Antonio, then I have to approve of Trent,” I said, pointing to Skye. “And . . .” Oops! When I turned to Chyanne, I didn’t have anything to say.

  Chyanne lowered her eyes and head, and I felt bad. So bad that I grabbed my fifth piece of pizza.

  “I’m sorry, Chy,” I said with my mouth stuffed.

  She shrugged, but she didn’t pick up her chicken leg. I hoped I hadn’t messed up her appetite. “It’s okay. I’m not with anyone right now”—she placed her hand on her belly—“since my priority has to be this baby.”

  It was still hard for me to believe that Chyanne was going to keep the baby. This was a big move. I mean, the way we’d been raised. She was going to be a single mother and a lawyer, living in New York City, all by herself. Whew!

  “Have you thought about all of that?” I asked, pointing to her stomach.

  She shook her head. “It gets overwhelming at times. I try not to think of anything more than taking care of her while she’s growing inside of me.”

  “But she’s gonna be here soon, sweetie,” Skye said. “You gotta start making plans, right?”

  Chyanne nodded. “But I don’t have to start tonight, do I?” She paused. “And how did this subject get about me? Weren’t we grilling Devin?”

  “Yeah,” Skye said as they both turned to me.

  “Nuh-uh! I wanna talk about your man, Trent,” I said, diverting the topic away from me. Not that I didn’t want to talk about Antonio. I could talk about him and think about him and do all other kinds of things with him all night long. But I enjoyed playing with my girls this way. “So,” I said to Skye, “what’s up with your new man?”

  She smiled, but it wasn’t the way she glowed whenever we had mentioned Noah’s name in the past. “Trent is cool. He’s great, actually.”

  “And isn’t the boy rich?” I laughed.

  “First of all, he’s not a boy, trust me.”

  “Ooohhh!” Chyanne and I laughed together.

  “And second of all, yesss, he’s rich!” Skye fell back onto the couch and kicked her legs in the air.

  “Well, that’s all I need to know, “ I said. “’Cause you know my motto.” And together we all said, “Date cute, marry rich!”

  After we laughed for a little while, Skye said, “But you know what I’ve discovered? Rich isn’t everything. You’ve got to really connect with the person.”

  I waved my hands, trying to wipe those dumb words away. “Please, rich can buy a whole lot of connection. Now, poor? Ain’t nothing you can do with poor.”

  “I know. I’m just sayin’ . . . I like Trent and he’s rich. . . .”

  “But . . . ,” Chyanne and I said together.

  “There are no buts,” Skye said quickly, as if she didn’t want to talk about this anymore. “Trent and I are fine. We’re getting to know each other, and we’re taking it slow.” She turned to Chyanne. “So have you spoken to Malcolm any more?” she asked, changing the subject fast.

  Chyanne shook her head. “No more than the stuff in the office.”

  “I don’t know how you do it,” Skye said. “I don’t think that I could work all day around . . .” She stopped, but Chyanne and I knew what she was going to say. She couldn’t work around Noah.

  Dang! I was right. She was still feeling ole boy, even though he had done her so wrong. She needed to drop that boy from her thoughts and she needed to do it quickly.

  “It’s not that bad. I’m able to avoid Malcolm a lot more than you think.” Chyanne paused. “But one person I haven’t been able to avoid is his wife.”

  I dropped my pizza right onto Skye’s cream-colored carpet. Not that Skye noticed, because her face was as frozen in shock as mine.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  Chyanne leaned back on the couch, as if what she had just told us was no big deal. “His wife came to see me.”

  “When?” Skye and I sounded as if we were singing together.

  “She came to my office.” And then Chyanne went on to fill us in about how Ms. Kayla just marched into her office one day and started talking about her husband. “And then she asked me how far along I was.”

  “What?” Skye and I sang together again.

  “Girl, I would’ve had the baby right there.” I raised my hand in the air as if I was about to testify. “I’m telling you, I would’ve given birth right in that office.”

  Chyanne and Skye laughed at me. Okay, it was a minor technicality that I couldn’t give birth. I was just sayin’.

  Chyanne said, “But there’s more.”

  “Oh, Lawd!” I said.

  “How could there be more?” Skye asked.

  “Well . . .” Chyanne did one of those little dramatic pauses that I always did. “She’s divorcing Malcolm, and she wants me to represent her!”

  That’s it! I was done! I fell out on the floor as if I’d fainted. I felt like fainting. Shoot, did anyone in the world have more drama in their lives than Chyanne Monroe?

  When Skye and I lifted our mouths up from the floor, Skye asked, “You told her no, right?”

  “I told her I’d think about it.”

  “You can’t do that,” Skye said.

  I kept my mouth shut because I had nothing to say. Nothing at all.

  “Well, actually, I can because it will probably be a simple divorce.”

  “But what about conflict of interest?” Skye continued to drill her.

  “What? You mean the fact that I used to sleep with her husband and now I’m carrying his baby? You think that disqualifies me?”

  “Yes!” Skye said.

 
“No!” I yelled out, finally finding my voice. “I mean, yes, do it! I think it would be wonderful. And then you can end up on one of those Snapped episodes on Oxygen, and we’ll all be famous.”

  “Nobody is going to snap anything,” Chyanne said. “It’s going to be a very cordial—if you can use that word with divorce. It’s going to be a cordial divorce.”

  “Well, I say do it,” I piped in.

  “And I say don’t,” Skye said.

  “And I say I’m not sure what I’m going to do, but whichever way I go, I know y’all will have my back, right?”

  “Yeah, right,” I said.

  Skye nodded.

  We all looked at each other for a moment, because Chyanne asked, “Does anyone have any more questions?”

  I raised my hand like I was back in school. “I have a question.” Doing one of those dramatic pauses, I asked, “What color is my godbaby’s room going to be?”

  And my girls laughed.

  Which was exactly what I wanted them to do!

  Chapter 28

  Chyanne

  I was surprised that Kayla wanted to meet me so close to the office, but I was glad that she did. I wasn’t too worried about Malcolm seeing us together; he left the office only in the middle of the day for business meetings, and he certainly wouldn’t be having a meeting at Trio, the little café five blocks away.

  I was actually glad that Kayla had chosen someplace so close. I could walk to the restaurant, and since I knew this meeting was going to be quick, I could get in and I could get out and get back to work. I wasn’t even going to order anything. Not a cup of coffee, not even a glass of water . . . nothing!

  This meeting actually seemed so unnecessary to me. When Kayla called me yesterday, I tried to tell her that I’d decided not to represent her. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t ethical, and I didn’t need this kind of drama in my life, anyway—certainly not while pregnant. But Kayla had insisted that we meet face-to-face.

  “You can tell me tomorrow what you’re going to do.”

  I had no idea why she wanted to do this in public, but whatever. Like I said, I was going to be in and out.

  I rushed into the café, and the hostess led me to the back, where she said my party was already waiting. It was interesting that she had seated us so far to the back, since it was only ten thirty and the lunch crowd had not yet arrived. Maybe Kayla was concerned about Malcolm seeing us, after all.