by Linda Verji
Chryssa was prepared to just let it go till he added, “I’ll even pay you for a few sessions.”
“Excuse me?” Chryssa cut her eyes at him.
Eli noticed it but instead of backing out of the conversation, he barreled on, “Maybe I’m not explaining myself well.”
“You damn well aren’t,” Chryssa replied. His next words had better be filled with honey otherwise he was going to be out of her office on his ass.
“You said I was a prude,” he tried to explain. “When we kissed, I felt…I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Please.” Holding onto her temper by a thin thread, she responded sarcastically. “Find your damn words.”
“I just wanted us to come to arrangement where you can teach me how to be better in bed,” Eli responded.
“And this…” She gestured between them. “…arrangement would include us sleeping together?”
“Well it’s hard to learn how to be better at something without actually practicing it.” He smiled unaware that he was treading on thin ice.
“Makes sense.” Her voice was even, but inside she was seething. The nerve of him! “And you’re offering me money for these lessons?”
“Exactly. Just tell me how much you want and we can negotiate.” Forget thin ice, the ice had already broken and Eli was sinking faster than the Titanic in it.
“So you’re gon be paying me to have sex with you,” She summarized for him.
He nodded.
She paused briefly with her head bent as she struggled to calm herself by counting backwards from fifty. Eli needed to send a thank-you note to her therapist because if it wasn’t for that Chryssa would have already slapped the taste out of his mouth.
When she finally lifted her head, he was still looking at her expectantly; like he expected her to promptly accept his offer. Her voice was icy as she said, “Get out.”
“But…”
“Eli.” Her chair squealed in protest as she pushed it back and stood up. Tension vibrating from each and every word, she said, “The only reason you aren’t knocked out on that carpet for calling me a hoe is because I’m at work. Don’t make me forget that.”
He looked confused for a minute before her words sank in and he said, “I didn’t mean you were a prostitute -”
“You need to get out of my office before I throw you the fuck out myself.”
Taking her stormy expression as his cue to leave, Eli stood up. “I just want a few lessons. Maybe when you’ve calmed down you’ll understand what I’m saying and we can talk about it.” Removing a card from the inside pocket of his jacket, he placed it on her desk. “Call me on this number.”
Chryssa took the card, looked at it then tore it into four pieces before throwing them at him. The white pieces of paper hit his chest before fluttering to the floor, “Get your bourgie high yellow ass out of my office.”
This negro!
CHAPTER 4
Even hours later as she stood in her kitchen chopping up vegetables for dinner, Chryssa was still seething in anger. Eli Stone. She could take being called a home-breaker. She could take being called a bitch. But a whore? Hell no.
She had no problems with whores. Everybody had to make a living. But she wasn’t one of them and the implication that she was irritated her to no end. So just because she wasn’t a man, she couldn’t express herself sexually without being labeled a whore? If he had offered her a one night stand no strings attached, she would’ve taken it. Honestly she’d wanted to test drive him for two years straight. However the moment he’d offered her money, he’d stepped on her last nerve.
Her house phone rattled on the kitchen island. Pausing in her cutting, she pressed the answer button and put the caller on loudspeaker so she could chop and talk, she said, “Chryssa here.”
“Hey Chrys.” Chryssa sighed in relief when Zain’s cheery voice filled the kitchen. Her friends were just what she needed to calm her down.
“Hi Chryssa,” Tasha’s quieter tones filtered through. Chryssa could hear the rushing sound of water in the background.
“Hey,” Chryssa returned. “Tasha, did you and Kian manage to talk to Hanna?”
“She turned up at around four but just whisked R.J. away without a word to either Kian or I.”
“Are you serious?” Chryssa’s voice rose with her disbelief. “That bitch has lost her damn mind.”
“What’s Hanna done?” Zain sounded confused. The only thing she knew was that Hanna was Tasha’s late husband, Polo’s lawyer. Chryssa listened quietly while Tasha filled Zain in on the situation.
Tasha finished, “I don’t even want to think about that woman right now because every time I do I just want to punch a wall. Can we talk about something else?”
The thought of Tasha, the meekest of the three of them punching a wall was enough to give both Chryssa and Zain a pause. Wisely they decided to change the subject. Zain asked, “What are you guys cooking?”
“Brown rice, chicken and some veggies,” announced Tasha.
“Veggies,” Chryssa said as she threw the cut vegetables into a wok and lit up the stove. “You?”
“It’s pizza night. Pizza night. Les Italianos est in the building,” Zain sang. Chryssa could practically see her doing her little Taco dance over the phone and she burst into laughter.
“That’s so unhealthy,” the disapproval in Tasha’s voice was palpable as she berated Zain, “Is that what you’re feeding our god-babies?”
“Bitch, shut up.” Chryssa chuckled. “You know she’s a doctor, right?”
“Woman, don’t take out your frustration with King on me,” Tasha retorted.
“What happened with K-” Zain’s words were interrupted by a loud clanging that sounded like saucepans falling. She yelled out, “Maari, Boy get out of my kitchen or I’ll shave your head.” Zain’s nine year old son, must’ve made some smart-alec remark because the next thing they heard was a thump, a yell and then Zain was back on the phone. “What happened with her and King?”
“What’d you do to Maari?” Chryssa returned.
“He deserted her.” Tasha responded to Zain’s question acting like Chryssa wasn’t even in the room – well…technically in the room. Tasha added, “I told you all this would happen. Chryssa you need a real man who will stay-”
“Don’t even start with me right now, Heifer.” Chryssa interrupted.
“What you gon’ do?” Tasha taunted not in the least bit threatened.
“Ooh fight fight fight.” Zain cheered in the background.
“Bitch, get off my dick. I swear one of these days.” Chryssa kissed her teeth even though all she wanted to do was laugh. These two women were more than her friends. They’d known each other for only three years but it felt like she’d grown up with them. They didn’t judge her for where she came from or how many cuss words tempered her speech. When she was with them she could let go of her professional persona and be as hood as she liked.
They were her sisters and she’d do anything for them. She’d held her tongue when Polo had called her a bitch, instead of going off at him just because he was Tasha’s man. She’d taken Zain in when she and Lucky had officially separated. All that she’d done because she knew if she ever needed anything they would drop what they were doing to help her out.
“You’re a beautiful woman,” Tasha piped up, her voice taking on a serious tone. “You shouldn’t have to pay for sex.”
“There she go again.” Chryssa whined, “Go away Oprah.”
“She’s right, Chrys.” Zain hopped onto Tasha’s bandwagon. “We need to get you a man.”
“I don’t need a ma-” Chryssa paused in her words as the rest of Zain’s words seeped in. “Hold up. Hold up. What’s this ‘we’ business? What are the two of you up to?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing” Both women rushed to say.
“Spill!” Chryssa said. None of them answered so she repeated. “Spill or someone will die.”
“You tell her,” Zain or
dered Tasha.
“It’s your dinner. You tell her.”
Zain sighed heavily. “Okay, so you know that dinner that Lucky and I are having next week?”
“Yes.”
“Weeeeeeell…” By the way Zain dragged out the ‘well’ Chryssa had the suspicion she wasn’t going to like where this was going.
“Mm hmm.”
“We kind of invited Victor too and he’s coming alone.” She rushed through her words before yelling out. “Tasha, run.”
Immediately both women ended their calls leaving Chryssa with a beeping receiver and no one to talk to. Within moments of staring at the phone with her mouth half-open in shock, Chryssa figured it out for herself.
Those two heifers were trying to set her up!
She tried calling them to yell at them what she thought of ‘that’ idea but neither of them picked up the phone.
“Cowards!” She harrumphed as she finished cooking. She knew they meant well, but sometimes she resented their need to interfere with her life. Chryssa didn’t need anyone finding her a man. What would she do with him after he’d been found? It wasn’t like she could have a relationship with him.
She had half a mind to skip the dinner. The thought of how her absence would disappoint Zain, the serial hostess, was the only thing that made her nix the idea. She’d just have to find a way to avoid being paired up with Victor.
After dinner, Chryssa settled in the living room for a comedy. At around nine p.m., she checked the locks on the front door and switched off the living room lights. Carrying a glass of water from the kitchen, she padded towards her room. She switched off the lights along the narrow hallway as she went.
It was only when she got to the bedroom she noticed her cell-phone vibrating madly on her bed blinking {MICKEY}. She briefly considered not picking it up, after all that was what she’d done yesterday, but they never went for more than two days without speaking. If they did, he’d fly to New York to check on her. That was the agreement.
“Hey,” she said into the phone as she set her glass of water beside the table.
“Hey,” he said. “You didn’t pick up your phone yesterday.”
“You know why.” Her answer was unapologetic. “And if you wanna to talk about him tonight, I’m ending this call.”
“Okay. I won’t,” Mickey quickly said. His voice softened as he added, “But you know I get worried when your extra ass don’t answer my calls.”
Immediately Chryssa felt guilty. Mickey always knew just which buttons to press and how. Her voice softened as she said, “I know. I’m sorry.”
“S’okay.”
To change the topic she asked him, “How’s training going?”
“They’re trying to kill me as usual.” Michael laughed. “I got a new girl though.”
“You’ve always got a new girl.” Chryssa complained though there was no bite to it. He was young, played pro-ball and decent looking. It would be weird if he wasn’t playing the field. She asked, “Is she another one of those ‘big boobed wanna-be reporters looking for their next road to fame’ tricks you’re always walking around with?”
“Okay! I’ll admit she got big…um…assets and she wants to be a reporter. But she’s not a user,” Michael said. His last ‘girl’ had ended up a TV anchor. “She’s a nice girl.”
“Boy, you wouldn’t know a nice girl if she flew in front of you wearing angel wings, a halo ‘n saying the Lord’s Prayer.” Chryssa chuckled. Keeping the phone on one year to listen to Michael list the reasons why his latest arm candy wasn’t just another celeb-digger, she got on her knees on the carpet.
“How’s Jaslene?”he asked.
“Michael Williams. I thought you had a big boobed bimbo to entertain you. Why you asking about Tasha’s sister?” She asked as she pulled a black bag from beneath her bed and unzipped it. There were several pieces of clothes inside.
“You know…”
“No, I don’t.” Chryssa rummaged through them to come with a brown bag that contained the bottles with her pills. Though nobody ever came into her bedroom – her sessions with King were always at a motel-she always kept her pills underneath the bed. There was no such thing as being too careful.
There was a pause on Mickey’s end that allowed her to count out her dosage for the night. Mickey answered her question with a, “She’s my friend,”
“Uh huh,” Chryssa mocked as she straightened up. “That’s what you’re looking for. Friendship.”
“Why you ragging me?”
“Cause Jazzy’s a good girl.” Chryssa popped her normal dose then chased it down with the water before continuing, “I don’t want you hurting her.”
“You don’t need to worry about Jazzy and I. I got this,” Mickey said before rushing on. “Have you taken your pills?”
“How you got that?”
“Have you taken your pills?” Mickey was dogged in his determination to avoid the conversation.
“I just did.” Chryssa gave him a temporary reprieve but made a mental note to talk to him about his ‘friendship’ with Jazzy when he next came into town.
“How’ve you been feeling?” he asked.
“I’m good,” she answered as she screwed the lids back on the pill bottles and put them back into the brown bag. At first she’d hated the thought of her little brother checking on her every night. But he’d insisted that it was the only way he was taking the contract in LA. The nightly phone-calls had brought problems with a lot of his paramours who thought Chryssa was a secret girlfriend. Who called their sister that much?
She tucked her pill-bag back underneath the clothes then zipped up the black duffel bag. With her foot she pushed the duffel bag back underneath the bed. Breathless from her exertions she added, “I have therapy tomorrow though.”
“Have you taken your pills?” Michael asked just as she straightened to her feet.
She hadn’t had a serious episode in years but that didn’t keep Chryssa from being almost compulsive when it came to her sleep time, diet, exercise, medication and therapy. She could be impulsive about anything else, but not those five. She’d seen what non-vigilance and denial had done to her mother.
She slipped into bed talking a while more with Michael. He said, “I talked to Dad today.”
“Michael,” she snapped.
“Fine. Fine.” He laughed, giving up at least for tonight. “My flight’s getting in at ten a.m. on Saturday. Don’t be late.”
“You better have my hundred when I get there.”
“You’re charging your own brother for a ride from the airport?” Michael tried to sound offended but ruined it with a chuckle at the end.
“I ain’t the Red Cross.” They haggled back and forth until he agreed to fund her next trip to the hairdresser. A few minutes later they said their good-nights.
Chryssa slipped into bed and turned off the lamp on the side-table. In the dark silence of the room, she let her mind roam free so it could make its way into slumber. Instead it latched onto the image of Eli. It seemed tonight was going to be another night of tangling limbs with Dr. Stone. She did not mind at all. He may be an annoying ass but he was a fine ass.
She smiled a little keeping her eyes closed as she imagined stripping him out of his suit, piece by piece by piece, and revealing the muscular length beneath all that stiff fabric. She didn’t need to imagine how he it would feel like to kiss him. She already knew how that felt. Delicious.
Before she could sink into sleep with the image of them kissing today at the office, it was replaced by a Technicolor replay of him making his ridiculous hoe-proposition. That thought merged with the memory of Zain and Tasha trying to pair her up with Victor.
Chryssa’s eyes snapped open just as the light bulb moment hit her. There was actually a way she could distract her friends from their match-making schemes and have some fun along the way. She smiled.
Hmm!
CHAPTER 5
“But I don’t want the medicine.” Melissa’s bottom lip trembl
ed, the residual effect of all the bawling she’d been doing hardly a few minutes ago. She sniffed pitifully, “It’s yucky.”
“I promise it’s not yucky,” Eli coaxed. He was sitting in a swivel chair that put him just at eye-level with the five year old as she sat on the examination bed. Melissa’s mother was standing beside the bed, a frustrated expression on her face. Eli focused all his attention on the little girl., “And besides I don’t want you to miss the present the Cold Bunny will bring you after you take your medicine.”
Giving him a doubtful look, Melissa sniffed then rubbed an arm under her nose that left a trail of mucus on her pale skin before asking, “The Cold Bunny?”
“Don’t you know about the Cold Bunny? Everybody knows about him.” Eli pretended surprise as he used his own handkerchief to wipe her nose for her then the line of mucus on her little arm. He explained, “He’s like Santa, only he comes when you have a cold. If you’re good and take all your medicine, when you’re better he’ll bring you a present.”
“Reeeeeallly.” There was still a hint of doubt in her voice but now it was overshadowed by awe.
“Really.” Eli confirmed. “You don’t want the Cold Bunny to go back with your present, do you?”
“Noooo.” Melissa shook her head vehemently to emphasize her No.
“Then you’ll take your medicine?” Eli asked. Melissa nodded vigorously. Her mother threw Eli a grateful smile as he lifted Melissa off the bed by her underarms and set her on the floor. “Good girl.”
Once he had successfully dispatched mother and daughter to the pharmacy, Eli walked to the nurse’s station where a long line of people waiting to be served. To a stranger, it might’ve looked like there was an epidemic in New York but to Eli and to the staff of Chancery Memorial, this was just another normal day in the hospital’s free clinic. The long lines were a symptom of the recession and the soaring unemployment rates.
Angela, the head of nursing was standing behind the counter with her head buried in some files but when Eli placed the clipboard he was carrying in front of her she lifted her head and smiled at him, “How did you get her to stop crying?”
