Body By Night

by Day, Zuri

  “Night, we need to talk about what happened the other day.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m obviously attracted to you, but like I said before I’m trying to stay focused on me right now. I went through a painful breakup with my ex and I don’t think I’m ready to go down that road again.”

  “Which road…pain or love?”

  “Is there a difference?”

  “There can be. Look, D’Andra, this is new for me too. I have a rule not to date my clients, and I also said I’d put all my focus into opening my gym. But some things just happen, and sometimes…I think we should let nature take its course.”

  Everything D’Andra wanted was standing right in front of her. Why was she so afraid of taking a chance?…As long as you deny yourself, they’re still putting you through it. Elaine’s words swirled around in her head along with her doubts.

  “Let’s just be friends for right now,” she said finally. “Is that okay?”

  “Is that friends with benefits?”

  “Night!”

  “All right, all right. But don’t ask me to keep away from those lips of yours because a brothah can only have so much discipline.”

  “Maybe a kiss or two, every now and then; until I’m ready.”

  “Girl,” Night sighed as he stepped to her and indulged her in a lazy, thorough kiss. “I think you’re going to be worth the wait.”

  Jazz frowned as she entered Bally Fitness. She could never understand what Night saw in the place that made him like it so. On several occasions she’d tried to coax him into joining one of LA’s more upscale gyms, like Equinox or Crunch, where she worked out. A perfect size four with almost no body fat, Jazz hadn’t joined the gym, Equinox, for fitness purposes. She’d joined it to network, to meet celebrities, athletes and progressive businessmen for her public relations business. It had proven an excellent move. Using her stacked body as well as her sharp mind, she’d gained seven prominent clients since joining the gym a year ago, putting in more time since her breakup with Night.

  Those attributes, body and mind, were the same ones used when she set her sights on Night, four years ago. It was at a Santa Monica beach, on a bike trail near her house. He was riding, she was walking her dog, Power. She took one look at the dark, smooth skin and tight, toned body of the rider coming toward her and stepped right in his path.

  “Is that bicycle the only thing you ride?” she’d asked brazenly.

  A tan isn’t the only thing she took from the beach that day. Night came over, and they barely left her bed all weekend. By Monday he was smitten with her sexiness and she was hooked on his hammer. The love came later, such as it was.

  Jazz was all about making it, and Night was the perfect complement to her well-orchestrated life. It bugged her to no end that she couldn’t get him to leave his common friends and stay solely in her world of the elite. He’d compromised in some areas, attending various parties and social functions in the designer duds she chose for him and when he wasn’t training clients, spending most of his time at her sleek, two-bedroom condo in tony Santa Monica, instead of the ghetto neighborhood of Inglewood where he lived.

  But in other things, Jazz remembered, he wouldn’t budge; like distancing himself from his countrified mom whom she’d been forced to endure almost every Sunday, along with the calorie-laden monstrosities that he and his mother erroneously referred to as “good eating.” And in refusing to leave this gym, where he worked in management right after graduation from college and where one of his best friends still trained and pumped iron. Zeroing in on that best friend, Jazz looked down her nose at the woman at the counter asking for her ID card, and walked around the turnstile to where Marc stood.

  “It’s all right, Mitzy,” he said to the chagrinned employee whom Jazz had ignored. “What brings you down to mix with the little people, Jazz?”

  “You know the only thing that could bring me here, Marc. Where is he?”

  “Doesn’t work here full-time anymore.”

  “Really?” Jazz was elated at this bit of news; maybe there was still hope for them after all.

  “Nope. His gym will be opening in a few months and he’s been busy with that. Most of his other clients right now have gyms in their home and the few who don’t, he trains at his house.”

  Jazz wondered about those clients, the bane of their existence that had led to her leaving him. Looking back, it had been one of the few times she’d made a poor choice. Night tried to get her to trust him, but she hadn’t. And now she was paying the price of his being out of her life, not to mention the emptiness of his being out of her bed. She’d tried to replace him in that area, but no one came close. Others had money, power, looks; but Night had mad loving skills. And he’d loved her from his heart. She knew that now. That’s why she was determined to get him back.

  “Is he still training that singer, what’s her name?”

  Marc knew fishing when he saw it, and he wasn’t going to bite. Any information she wanted about Night, she was going to have to get from him.

  “I’m not sure who all he’s training now. I think a couple pro ballers though, and yeah, a couple celebrities. Night doesn’t come cheap, you know. But he’s the best; that’s why he can command that long paper.”

  “He is the best,” Jazz agreed. She knew what Marc said was true as sure as she knew he was withholding information. Time to try another tactic.

  “Hey, how’s the wifey? I haven’t seen her since, well, since me and Night broke up.”

  That’s because in your mind she’s beneath you. “Oh, Lindsay? She’s great; just celebrated a birthday. We went to Vegas.”

  Where’d you stay, Circus Circus? “That sounds so sweet, Marc. Tell her I said hello and that we should get together sometime soon.”

  Why, so she can choke on your fakeness? “I’ll do that.”

  Good, maybe I can give Pug Face a much needed makeover. Lindsay had been too white bread America for Jazz’s taste. The fact that she was in as good a shape as she didn’t sit well with Jazz either. She’d endured them both only because they were Night’s friends.

  Sidling up to Marc, she flashed her most come-hither smile. “So…who’s my man seeing these days?”

  You’re so transparent. “I don’t know,” he said, looking at her pointedly. “You’ll have to ask him.”

  “C’mon, Mark, you’re his best friend.”

  “That’s why I’m telling you that if you want to know something about Night, then go to him. Don’t try and pump his best friend for information.”

  Jazz fixed him with a look that Marc knew meant she wasn’t leaving until she felt she’d gotten what she came for.

  “As far as I know, he isn’t seeing anybody. He’s been all wrapped up in opening his gym.”

  “You think he’s really ready to do it? I mean, where’d he get the money and the space?”

  Jazz considered Night’s plans to open his own business a pipe dream, especially since her name and stellar credit rating were no longer available to him.

  Thankfully, Marc’s client walked up at that moment. “Ready to work out?” he asked the attractive blonde. She nodded. He heaved a grateful sigh. “Take care of yourself, Jazz.”

  That’s exactly what I’ll do, she thought as she maneuvered her Caspian blue SLK Roadster down Century Boulevard. Night’s modest two-bedroom home was only minutes from Bally’s, giving her little time to second-guess her impromptu decision for a surprise visit. She pulled up behind his black GMC Acadia parked in the driveway at the side of his house and cut the engine. After staring at the neatly trimmed shrubbery that lined the walk for a moment, she reached for her compact. They hadn’t seen each other up close in a while; she wanted to put her best face forward to make his re-acquaintance.

  “You sure you don’t want to take a shower and have a quick meal?” Night wasn’t ready for D’Andra to leave.

  “Tempting, but no, I have a couple errands to run and will try to sleep a couple hours before going to work t
onight.”

  “It was another good workout, D’Andra. I’m proud of your progress, and your focus.”

  “Thank you.” Coming from him, this was high praise. Night’s body was as perfect a one as she’d seen; she could only hope that with his help hers would look half as good.

  She was almost to the door when Night stopped her. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  D’Andra looked down. She had her gym bag, her water and towel. Her keys were in her right hand and her warm-up jacket over her arm. “What?”

  “This.” Night’s lips were soft as cotton candy as they descended on D’Andra’s. He teased and nibbled a moment before plunging his tongue into the crevices of her mouth, searching hers out for an oral dance. He pressed his body against her and before long she felt his desire press against her.

  “I’d better go,” she breathed.

  “Yes, you’d better.”

  She opened the door.

  “Hey, what do you say about a movie this Saturday? I heard about an independent one I’d like to check out.”

  “Why, Night Simmons, that sounds like a date!”

  “How about it?”

  Her hesitation was brief. “Sounds great.”

  “I’ll call you later with the details.”

  D’Andra would have been hard-pressed to wipe the smile off her face or the song from her heart. She was going to follow both Elaine’s advice and her intuition. Night was a good man; she could feel it. And while she planned to take it slow, she definitely planned to take it.

  “Oh, excuse me!” She’d been so deep in thought D’Andra nearly bumped the twig of a woman who was walking the opposite way up the walk into the shrubbery.

  “Yes, excuse you,” Jazz snarled in return. Little did it matter that she was equally at fault. She checked her purse for condoms as she neared the entrance.

  D’Andra just stared, taken aback at this woman’s rudeness, and her beauty. She looked about as big as a minute, with wide, slanted eyes, ridiculously long eyelashes and the kind of bee-stung mouth men loved. Her shoulder-length black bob framed high cheekbones and a long slender neck. She wore a tight-fitting dress and sandals with straps that wrapped around slender calves. Her toes were French-manicured. D’Andra saw all of this in the two seconds it took for the woman to huff, roll her eyes and sashay around D’Andra towards Night’s front door.

  D’Andra held her head high as she walked to her car, even though her high spirits had been cut low by Miss America’s withering glare. The woman had the same haughty countenance as Cassandra sometimes donned when she thought she looked particularly cute—and did. Her sister would have given the stranger a run for her money, maybe even pushed her butt off the sidewalk. D’Andra was nobody’s pansy, but neither was she the type to get in your face.

  What was important in her mind as she started her car and headed off Night’s block, wasn’t so much how the woman looked but who was she to her trainer. And as immediately as she had the thought, she dismissed it. Night said himself that he was surrounded by beautiful women, trained them on a regular basis. D’Andra remembered that being one of the reasons his girlfriend had left him. For a moment, D’Andra felt a bit of camaraderie with his ex, or at the least some understanding. One had to be made of stone to let her man around that kind of glamour all day and not worry a little bit. D’Andra had witnessed firsthand the power of sweaty seductions, and how hypnotic a gym in close quarters could be. She could just imagine the woman’s surgically enhanced breasts bouncing invitingly as she lifted and flexed. D’Andra would bet money those titties weren’t real. They were too big on a woman that little. D’Andra forced her thoughts away from the woman and from Night as well. If she were to have any type of future at all with him, she had to be trusting, and she might as well start now.

  “Hey, handsome!” Jazz exclaimed, throwing herself into Night’s arms as soon as the door opened. She kissed his stunned lips and cupped his cheek gently. “I’ve missed you.”

  Night was momentarily too surprised to speak. How long had it been, almost eight, nine months since they last spoke? What was she doing here? What did she want? And did D’Andra see her come to his house?

  “Who was that chunky monkey that almost knocked me off the sidewalk?” Jazz asked, answering his unasked question. She snuggled against Night from behind, missing the look of fury that crossed his face as a result of her insult.

  “Her name is D’Andra,” he said, unfolding her arms from around his waist and turning around. His crossed-arm, wide-leg stance bore that of a warrior. “What are you doing here, Jazz?”

  “I couldn’t stay away any longer, Night. I’ve been a total fool and torn an unbeatable team apart. Well, I’m back, and willing to do whatever you tell me. Ready to help you get the business going, solicit impressive clients…and I think I’ve got another financial backer for us.”

  For a moment, Night was pulled in by some of Jazz’s traits that he found most attractive: her ambition, drive and tenacity. She was beautiful and he’d loved her dearly. Whatever perfume she was wearing was driving him wild.

  He turned from her. “What we had is over, Jazz. Didn’t you get the dissolution papers regarding our partnership?”

  “Baby,” she cooed, lightly scanning her hand over his backside, enjoying the reaction when he clenched it under her touch. “Those pesky details we can take care of later. I ran into Marc and he said you’re still opening the gym. I didn’t think you were, I mean, with us no longer together…”

  “You didn’t think I could make it without you, is that what you’re saying?”

  “No, Night, it’s not what I meant. But my part of the partnership was securing finances. I just wonder how you were able to buy the property.”

  “You’re not the only one with connections.”

  Night breathed a silent prayer to Aunt Jewel, who’d left him a sizeable amount of money in her will. He worked to rein in his anger at Jazz’s assumption that he couldn’t succeed without her. “What do you want?”

  Jazz didn’t know what kind of welcome she’d expected, but this wasn’t it. She had Night wrapped around her fingers, putty in her hands. At least that’s how it used to be. Sure, he always exuded strength, but not with her. Not like this.

  “Come here, Chocolate,” she whispered his pet name through moistened lips, batting her lashes and approaching him again in a way that dared him to deny her. She rubbed her Zuni silk mini across his bare chest and licked it. He tasted sweaty, salty, like he used to after intense lovemaking. She could feel his heart beating, hard and fast. She knew he wouldn’t be able to resist her.

  His intent was to push her away but almost of their own volition, Night’s hands came up to cup her round, fleshy bottom. She smelled like flowers and felt like butter. At one time, she’d been his world.

  But that was then; this was now. He moved his hands from her bottom to her hips and pushed her gently but firmly away from him.

  “I’ve got things to do, Jazz. It’s good to see you. I hope you’re well. But what we had is over.” He walked to the door and opened it. “Don’t come by again.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “Does it sound like I’m playing?”

  “Night, I made a big mistake breaking up with you.”

  “I broke up with you, remember?”

  Jazz ignored the comment and went on. “And I’ve paid for it every day your arms haven’t been around me. Please, baby; I’ll do whatever I have to, whatever you say, to make up for how I left you. It wasn’t fair, I know. But I was weak, jealous; afraid I’d lose you. So I left first, thinking it would hurt less. It hasn’t.”

  Feeling she was making inroads into his heart, she continued. “I’ve changed, Night. I know I can trust you now; that you’ll be faithful even with all the other women around. Please say we can try again, Night. Please?”

  Night’s resolve wavered a bit. At her best Jazz was beautiful, smart, funny and sexy as hell. At her worst she was belittling, i
nsensitive, jealous and conceited. He remembered what his mother had said after Jazz made fun of a homeless man. Ugly sure comes in a pretty package. He remembered the comment she’d made about D’Andra, a woman who was beautiful inside and out. His moment of wavering was over. He’d made his choice, and it wasn’t Jazz.

  “I wish you well, Jazz,” he said as he ushered her to the door. “Please don’t come here again.”

  Angry didn’t begin to describe Jazz’s mood. She never considered for a moment that Night would refuse her. It wasn’t often she was turned down for anything, especially by a man.

  It just means I’ll have to work a little harder, she thought, as she backed out of Night’s driveway. Jazz Anderson always got what she wanted. Her next plan of seduction was hatched before her car reached the end of the block.

  14

  “Where are you going?” Mary Smalls, who was sitting on the couch devouring a slab of barbequed ribs and a mound of fries, eyed her daughter suspiciously.

  “I have a date,” D’Andra sang back.

  “What, you?”

  “Dang, Mama; you don’t have to act so surprised.”

  “And you don’t have to act like you go out every day. I ain’t seen you on a date since Charles left.”

  “I left him, Mama.”

  “Whoever left who, he ain’t here. This one any good?”

  “Yes.” D’Andra wasn’t ready to share Night with her family. They’d be able to do their damage soon enough, if what was building went that far.

  “You want some of these ribs?”

  “No thanks, Mama.”

  “Oh, that’s right; this food is too rich for your blood. I can see you’re losing though.”

  This was the first acknowledgement of D’Andra’s nearly fifteen-pound weight loss. “I’m working on it.”

  “Next thing you know, you’ll be as small as Cassandra.”

  “I’ll never be her size; and I’m not trying to be. I’m just trying to be a healthy weight for me. You should come join the gym with me, Mama; we could do the treadmill together.”