by Zuri Day
Ransom entered his hotel room and called room service. Shortly afterward, a waiter came up with what he’d requested: an ice-filled bucket, fruit, an assortment of crackers, meats, and cheeses, and a large bottle of water. He tipped the employee and pulled the cart inside.
Not long after Ransom placed the sparkling wine into the ice bucket, there was a knock on the door.
He looked at his watch. It had been just over thirty minutes. “That was fast,” he said aloud as he went to the door. He opened it with a flourish, and his smile turned upside down. “Brea, what in the hell are you doing here?”
Brea knew he’d be surprised but she hadn’t counted on angry. She got ready to fire a sarcastic retort, and then replaced thoughts of vinegar with honey. She lowered her eyes coyly and added a hint of a smile. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
Ransom didn’t move from in front of the door. “No, Brea, I’m not. What are you doing here? And where is Isis?”
“Isis is with Mama, and I came here to talk. It’s very seldom we get time without our daughter around. I was hoping that could happen tonight. Please.”
“I can’t see what kind of time we need without our daughter around,” Ransom retorted angrily. “She’s who you need to focus on spending quality time with.” Still, he moved away from the door. Brea glided inside.
She took in the scene immediately: chilling wine, food, candles waiting to be lit. Hmm. Looks like Gwen and I have another bitch to contend with. But Brea wasn’t worried. She was counting on outlasting whoever Ransom had laid out this spread for, Gwen, and anybody else wanting to vie for his affection. Because she had the one trump card that none of these other wenches had…his daughter.
Brea walked over to the food cart and plucked a grape from its stem. “Eating for two?”
“I’m obviously expecting company, which is why you can’t stay. So say whatever is on your mind and get back to our daughter.”
“Isis needs to spend time bonding with her grandmother. Mama is great with kids, you know that. They were getting ready to bake cookies when I left, and then put together a jigsaw puzzle.” Brea took off her coat and laid it across the bed. “I can stay for however long you like.”
Ransom crossed his arms as he stared at her. Any red-blooded American would be affected by her beauty, and Ransom was no different. He knew the material she wore was soft to the touch, and her skin would be even softer. He remembered how her body felt in his arms, and beneath him.
Brea sat on the bed and leisurely crossed her legs. An expanse of thigh was visible from this angle, and Brea still had some of the prettiest feet Ransom had ever seen. The sparkly sandals showed off her French manicure to perfection. There was no way around it. Brea looked good. But Ransom knew that looks could be deceiving, and he also knew he’d be in trouble if Brea didn’t leave—now.
“Brea, you’ve got to go,” he said again.
Brea leaned back and revealed more thigh. “Ransom, I need you. Remember how good it was with us, baby? I’ve been dreaming about that juicy dick of yours between my legs, pumping into me with that hard, sexy body.” Brea began unzipping her dress. Creamy smooth skin was exposed with each pull. “Come get this, Ran. You know you want it.”
“That’s it. You’ve got to go!” He angrily strode to the door and yanked it open. “Gwen!”
“Hey, hand—” The scene that greeted Gwen cut off her words, and her breath. She peeped the tableau in an instant: wine, cheese, candles, and an almost naked Brea lounging on the bed. She looked at Ransom with eyes oozing pain. And then, without a word, turned and left.
“Gwen! Wait!” Ransom ran after Gwen and grabbed her arm.
“Get your funky hands off me,” Gwen hissed from between clenched teeth, and kept walking.
“Stop, Gwen. Don’t do this. She came over here unannounced, Butterfly.”
“Don’t call me that!” Gwen jabbed the down button on the elevator.
“Gwen, just listen to reason. Why would I call and invite you over if I planned to do something with Brea? She left Isis with her mother and came over here. Obviously that was their plan all along.”
“And you just had to let her in.”
“She said she had something to talk to me about.”
“Yeah, well I saw her conversation.” The elevator door opened and Gwen stepped inside.
Ransom followed her and pushed the stop button. “Butterfly, how can you not believe me? Please, don’t leave.”
Gwen rested heavily against the back of the elevator. The look on Ransom’s face was sincere, and what he said made sense. But she was no longer in the mood for loving, and the exhaustion she’d felt earlier came back full force. Now she wasn’t only physically tired, but mentally and emotionally too.
“Look, Ransom. I believe you. But I’m not going to stay. You’ve got a situation here that you need to handle. And I need to get some sleep.”
“Gwen, I’m going to set things straight with Brea, go pick up Isis, and come home. Will you be there?”
“I’ll call you in the morning,” Gwen said. She reached past Ransom and disengaged the stop button. “But tonight, I need to sleep at my house, in my bed…alone.”
50
Gwen and Chantay sat running their toes through the hot, white sand. Neither had ever been to Jamaica, and so far, the friendly, festive island was living up to the hype.
“Gwen, thanks again for inviting me to come with you, girl. This is one helluva way to spend Christmas vacation!”
“Yeah, well, I think we both deserve it. But you’re sure your daughters were okay with you not being there?”
“Please, they were helping me pack! Sienna and her dude are talking about getting married. Her ass is pregnant and she actually thinks I, her mother, don’t know.”
“Oh no, Chantay. You, a grandmother? Are you ready for that?”
“No, but neither was my mother. At least her boyfriend has some sense, plus he graduated college. He’s got a pretty good job and seems to be treating her right. She’s happy.”
“But so young.” Gwen was thirty when she got married and wondered even then if she was ready. “How’s Sharonna enjoying her time with the paternal grandparents?”
“They’re spoiling her, so she’s loving it, trying to throw money at all those growing up years they missed with her. But that was mostly my and Tashon’s fault though. When I was mad at him, which was often, none of his family saw her.”
“Is Tashon spending Christmas in Portland, too?”
“Yes, with his wife and kids. It’s good for Sharonna to get to know her half siblings. At the end of the day, it’s all good, especially me being here on this beach. I didn’t know how much of life I was missing!”
“Well, I wanted to do something special with my part of the profit from the condo sale, so here we are.”
“I wonder what Joe is doing with his part.”
“For all I care, he can stick it up his—”
“Now, now, Gwendolyn, keep your blood pressure down. He’s out your life. You can wish him well now.”
She could have gone all day without mentioning that fool. But Gwen knew that Chantay was right. Hard feelings and grudges for things in the past weren’t productive for anyone. She repositioned her large, floppy hat and leaned the lounge chair back farther. “I hope Derek wasn’t too mad that you decided to spend the holidays without him.”
“If he is, he’ll get over it. Or knowing his horny ass, he’ll get over another pair of legs.”
Gwen turned and looked at her friend. “You really think he’d cheat on you?”
Chantay shrugged. “He’s a man, ain’t he? Most men will screw anything with a hole in it.”
Gwen put down her virgin piña colada and frowned out at the impeccable afternoon. She watched as waves lazily beat against the ocean shore, a small boat bobbed up and down in the distant water, and a flock of birds flew overhead. Then laying her head back against the chair, she closed her eyes and thought about Ransom.
Things hadn’t been the same since Gwen caught Brea in Ransom’s room almost a month ago, and she wouldn’t deny the strain in the relationship was largely her fault. For his part, Ransom had worked hard to reestablish their warm camaraderie. He’d called the day after the incident, and they’d met and talked about Brea…again.
“Baby, this is exactly what she wanted to do…come between us,” Ransom had pleaded. “Let’s not give her the satisfaction of that happening.”
Gwen had tried to put that night behind her. But every time she became intimate with Ransom, an image of Brea’s perfect, near-bare body swam into her consciousness and brought out every insecurity she ever had. She became reticent in their lovemaking, inhibited, holding back. Having loved raw for some time and not worried about pregnancy, Gwen had even insisted Ransom start using a condom again, just in case. Gwen’s feelings were all over the place, and she didn’t like how that felt. So when the real estate agent called with the news of the sale, she immediately booked a vacation away from Ransom and the drama of Sienna. Anywhere near his magnetism and she couldn’t think straight. And that’s exactly what she needed to do—think.
“I guess Ransom could be screwing Brea right about now,” she said after a while. “Or somebody…”
“Aw, hell, girl. I didn’t mean to make you go there. Ransom and Derek are two different men.”
“But you just said that men don’t care who they screw—”
“Yeah, and sometimes I talk too much. You came here to relax and regroup. Don’t ruin your vacation letting your imagination get the best of you. Ransom told you that he explained what’s up to that ho: you are his woman and she is his baby mama. End of story. From what you’ve told me, you don’t have a reason to worry.”
“Yeah, well that ho in Sienna with me in Jamaica is plenty reason,” Gwen responded quietly. “Who am I kidding? There is no way I can compete with that girl. She’s got everything—”
“Except your man. And if I was fuckin’ somebody that fine, you bettah believe he would be here instead of you.”
“What? You would have chosen Derek over me if given the choice?”
“Baby, ain’t that much sistah-girl love in the world where I’d choose a BFF over some good dick.”
“Chantay, you are so crass sometimes.”
“I’m just keeping it real as a happy meal.”
Gwen looked out at the beautiful view in front of her and sighed deeply. It would have been incredible to be here with Ransom. What was I thinking? Maybe she wasn’t, she decided. “I’m just so confused about everything,” she said with anguish in her voice. “Ransom is darn near half my age with a young daughter and women after him who put me to shame. What chances do we have of a lasting relationship? What about five years, ten years, twenty years from now. I’ll be sixty-one and he’ll just be forty-five!”
“No. You’ll be dead from worrying too much. Girl, you need to put some alcohol in your next drink, ’cause your sobriety is driving me insane.” Chantay sat up. “Either insane or seeing thangs…Is that my imagination or are those two fine-ass brothahs heading in our direction?”
Gwen followed Chantay’s gaze and saw two handsome men indeed coming their way. One was tall, dark chocolate, with long dreadlocks. The other was a medium-height, butterscotch cutie with a stocky, muscular build and bald head. Both were smiling as they approached.
“Well, it looks like we have two fine creatures here now,” the dark-skinned one said in the singsong accent that Jamaicans made famous. “You two lovelies want us to show you around the island?”
Gwen was about to decline when Chantay interrupted. “Baby, you can show me around whatever you want!”
“Oh, so you ladies are looking for a good time?”
Gwen once again began to speak. “Thank you but—”
“We’d love to get the personalized tour,” Chantay finished. “And then later you two gentlemen can take us to dinner. Do you think you can do that?”
The tall, dark chocolate man offered a broad smile. His answer was simple: “Yeah, mon.”
Gwen sang loudly as she drove down the interstate. She and Chantay had arrived back to the states in one piece, and after dropping her off, Gwen was on her way home. She waited for the next track to begin with a smile on her face. Man! It feels good to feel good.
She and Chantay had finished their vacation in grand fashion, a party cruise around the island in a luxury yacht. This courtesy of Johnny, the dark-as-a-raisin-and-twice-as-sweet brothah that Chantay had ended up spending the night with after their introductory dinner, and most of the nights thereafter. Brothah Butterscotch was not so fortunate, and after Gwen rebuffed his initial advances, she never saw him again.
Gwen didn’t begrudge Chantay’s case of island fever. The time she spent alone was much needed, and allowed her to find clarity in her crazy situation. This was why Gwen felt so good. She finally realized that she didn’t have to accept what was happening to her. She didn’t have to be a part of the drama that swirled around her: the small-town gossip, the small-school shenanigans, Adam’s trippin’ and Brea’s dippin’. Gwen’s mother was still improving and had even made a male friend at the assisted living facility. Gwen had escaped the confines of a small town before; she would do it again. Gwen felt so good because somewhere between the white sand and the blue ocean, the jerk chicken and the fried plantain, the reggae music and the shot of Jamaican rum that had sent her into a coughing frenzy, she had made a decision. She was going to once again take control of her life. Gwen didn’t know where she’d be living when the new school year started, but she knew one thing for sure: it wouldn’t be in Sienna.
51
It was an unlikely cast of characters: Adam, Joanna, Carol, and Brea. Adam and Joanna sat huddled on Brea’s love seat while Carol stood, arms crossed, by the door. Brea sat in the middle of her couch looking regal, beautiful, and in total control—as if she were holding court.
Brea wanted Ransom, bottom line. And after what had transpired over the holidays, she knew she would have him. They’d spent a little time on Christmas together—her, Ransom, and Isis. She’d dressed to impress, definitely sexy. There was no way he hadn’t wanted her. That’s probably why he ran out of her mother’s house so soon. Having learned her lesson with the hotel fiasco, however, Brea had been the epitome of propriety. She knew Gwen had gone on vacation with a girlfriend. Not a good sign when you take another female to paradise instead of your man. Success was within Brea’s grasp. She’d decided to step up her game and exhaust all her resources.
The seed for how she’d secure her future with Ransom was planted a week ago, during a casual conversation with Adam. Brea had voiced how much easier getting back with Ransom would be if Gwen were totally out of the picture. Adam had said he was sick of her too, and wished he hadn’t hired her to teach at Sienna. “She’s not that good a teacher,” he’d said, having become more and more critical of her professional performance with each personal rebuff. “I wish she’d take her ass back to Chicago!” There it was—Brea’s answer. Gwen leaving Sienna would take her not only out of Ransom’s life, but their daughter’s as well.
Involving Joanna and Carol had been Adam’s idea. He didn’t want whatever scheme they cooked up to be traced back to him. He liked his job as principal of Sienna Elementary. It gave him a sense of power, importance, and a steady supply of willing female teachers to bed. These two, he’d argued, could do the dirty work. Brea had adamantly refused at first, as she trusted few females. But after a conversation with her mother, Brea decided to follow her advice and “keep her enemies closer.” War made strange bedfellows indeed. But Brea wanted it understood right up front that she was the general.
“Just so y’all know,” she said, looking pointedly between Carol and Joanna, “I don’t like either of you bitches. You stabbing Gwen in the back means you’d stab me too. Especially you,” she added, fixing Carol with a stare. “But Adam told me y’all want Gwen gone as much as I do, and that four heads working on getting this done might be better than one. Was he right?”
Carol’s eyes narrowed. The feeling is mutual, bitch. But rather than voice her obvious contempt, she decided to play it cool. “I’m only here because Adam asked me.” She had absolutely no intention of helping Brea with any kind of scheme. Carol was at this meeting for one reason only: to find out what Brea was up to so she could take the information straight to Ransom and get back in his good graces. Then she’d use concern for her daughter as an excuse to back out of any assistance Adam might expect. I don’t need to run my competition out of town. I can play your hand better than you can. Carol smiled at the thought. By trying to eliminate Gwen, Brea would effectively eliminate herself.
“I’m only here because of Adam too,” Joanna echoed, moving closer to her Svengali. And because Carol had asked for backup. Joanna had spent her entire life in small towns, and had never met anyone as worldly as her new friends. She’d never had a confidante like Carol, and had never been sexed so thoroughly either. She was whipped enough to do whatever Adam asked her. Lastly, it didn’t hurt that he was Joanna’s boss. Job security was a good thing.
Adam disengaged himself from Joanna and stood. It was time to end the catfight and get this meeting back on track. His first plan to break up Gwen and his brother had failed. Joseph Smith was obviously a wimp, since he couldn’t even step up his game enough to collect ten g’s. It was time to implement Plan B. “Now that you ladies have emphasized the obvious—that you don’t like each other—can we get down to business? We need to work on how to make this happen.” He looked around to make sure he had everyone’s attention. “Okay, here’s what I know. Gwen is very protective of her reputation. She hates a scandal. And believe me, a scandal involving an elementary school teacher would be big news. If we do this right, and keep our own personal animosities in check, we can embarrass Gwen Andrews right out of town.”
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