by Meka James
“What is that?” I heard her ask.
My steps faltered a moment as I took quick stock of my attire. My hand went to the top of my spaghetti-strap tank top, finding relief when I touched only the smooth skin of my back instead of the raised keloid scar. It’s not showing.
“A tattoo, Calida? When did you make that mistake?”
I closed my eyes and let out a quiet exhale before turning back to face her. “Why are you here Dorian?” I asked, ignoring her question.
Shawn squealed when Dorian got in his view, and his dirty hands reached out for her. She stopped just out of reach, making sure he couldn’t stain her shirt. I wet a paper towel and proceeded to clean him up. Dorian carefully stepped around the mess he’d made on the floor, and took a seat at the table.
“I’ve decided to move here. There’s not much point in me staying in Charlotte with Mom and Dad living here now.”
I cast a quick glance back at her as I worked to unbuckle Shawn from his high chair. “No hope of reconciling with Daniel?”
He waddled over to Dorian, raising his arms in the air. She picked him up. “No,” she replied in a clipped tone. “We’ve already put the house on the market and our respective lawyers have been hired.”
“Oh,” I replied, carrying the plastic tray to the sink. “And you’re letting me know you’re moving here because…?”
Her reasons for this visit eluded me. We’d never been sisterly, so I couldn’t imagine why she thought I’d care what her plans were, and I sure as hell couldn’t fathom her motives for wanting to tell me. Dorian carried Shawn into the connected family room, and sat him down in front of his play area.
She looked around the space. “Who decorated this place?”
“I did,” I replied, and braced for the insult I figured would follow.
“Really?”
I couldn’t tell if that was shock or if she was impressed. “Yes.”
“That’s kind of depressing,” she said, pointing to the picture hanging over the fireplace. “But I like the rest. Gated house, exclusive neighborhood, you really came up in the world.” She turned to face me.
She made it sound like any of those things were ever important to me. I would gladly give it all up to not have gone through all the pain and heartache this “come up” cost me.
I dropped the dish towel onto the counter. “Dorian, what do you want? You didn’t drive all the way over here because you were suddenly curious to see where I lived. And I sure as hell know you didn’t want to have some heart to heart talk about marriage and relationships, so what is it? Are you here to butter me up for a place to stay since you’re moving?”
Dorian’s brow creased when she frowned. Her once wrinkle-free complexion now had laugh lines around her eyes and mouth. She was still impeccably dressed as always, but she had gained some weight over the last few years. Not a lot, but we looked closer to being the same size now than before. Where-as my hair was shorter now, she’d let hers grow out. It hung just past her shoulders, and seemingly lacked some of the shine it used to have. I guess the stress of her failed marriage was taking a bigger toll on her than she wanted to admit.
“No, I’ll be staying with Mom and Dad until I find a nice condo here.”
“So, this is just a random visit? I find that hard to believe,” I said, continuing my task of cleaning up.
My food had turned cold, so I dumped it.
“Why is that so hard to believe?” she asked, taking a seat next to Shawn on the Persian rug. She put the train track pieces together, only to have him take it apart instantly, giggling as he did so.
“Maybe because you’ve never done it. You saw me in the hospital once and that was because Mom made you come so you could give her an update before they got here. You came again, to the hospital, after I had Shawn. When you come to visit, we only see each other at Mom and Dad’s house. So…” I let the rest of that statement hang.
“You’re so different now,” Dorian commented, abandoning Shawn to come stand near me as I swept up the floor.
“Why? Because I no longer let you walk all over me?”
“I never—”
I shot her a look that made her clamp her lips shut on that denial.
“Fine. With my moving, I’ll need a job, so you need to officially hire me as your counsel for dealing with things at Jokobi Enterprises.”
I stopped my action of sweeping, letting her words sink in. “Did you just ask me for a job?” A smile crossed my lips as I thought about how much that must have pained her.
“Not exactly. You already use my services, now I’m just saying you pay for them.”
“So…then yes, you are asking me for a job. Especially since I thought you were offering your services out of some sort of kindness. My mistake on thinking that.” I didn’t bother to mask the sarcasm in my voice.
“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” Dorian replied, running her fingers through her hair. “It’s a win-win for us both. Being on the payroll, you’ll have someone at the office every day to make sure your interests are being looked after instead of me just showing up at the quarterly board meetings.”
I let out a slow, audible exhale as I finished sweeping. I carried the dustpan to the trash, dumping the contents, before putting it and the broom away. I glanced at the clock on the microwave; it was only nine a.m. What a way to kick off my day. Shawn walked over to me, happily babbling about his trains. He handed one to Dorian and the other to me before walking back to the mess he’d made. I followed behind him and started picking up some of the scattered toys.
“So, you’ll call HR and let them know to add me to the payroll?”
“No, Dorian, I can’t just call HR. I have no hand in the hiring or firing of employees. Besides, aren’t you a partner or close to being a partner with your firm? You’ve worked there long enough.”
“You can if you wanted to. It’s your company. You’re just being difficult! And no, I’m not. They haven’t made anyone a partner in the last ten years I’ve been there, so it’s not likely they plan on it anytime soon,” she snapped.
“You do realize that being a bitch to me is shooting yourself in the foot, since you clearly need me for something.”
“I’m not the one being a bitch. Ever since you decided to become a black widow, you’ve been nearly impossible to deal with.”
I looked at her like she’d grown a second head. On one hand, her ability to not treat me as if I was made of glass was refreshing, considering everyone else did. However, on the other, her total lack of empathy and apparent complete disregard for the situation I went through royally pissed me off.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now? You know what…never mind. You’re right, Dorian. I just fucking decided that shit, just like I’m going to just fucking decide to become an only child at this point. Seeing as how I got away with killing once, I think with the stress of everything, I should be able to get off on an insanity defense.”
I glared at her. Dorian’s face turned red and her eyes widened. I heard the sharp intake of breath and worked really hard not to laugh at her.
With a flip of her hair and a straightening of her shoulders, she regained her composure. “With comments like that, I don’t think your therapy is very effective.”
“Leave!” I pointed toward the door. “Get…out…of…my…house!”
I picked up Shawn and headed toward the stairs, leaving her standing in the family room. I heard the front door slam behind her when I was halfway up the steps.
Chapter 7
Malcolm
I listened to Pete drone on and on during the teleconference. A last-minute emergency conference call on a Saturday. It was times like this I hated newbies. So many questions about things already discussed. I was just waiting on Jay to tell me I was going to have to accompany Pete on his trip to China next month, since I was his direct supervisor. I was pulling double duty making sure he didn’t fuck up the relations I spent years b
uilding with our overseas partners.
I was Gillad Pharmaceuticals best account executive. My record for maintaining those business relations, plus getting new ones had been unmatched. Now as the department manager, I was responsible for ten reps, most of whom I’d worked with, and they knew their jobs well. Pete was a different story and a major headache. Although being a supervisor was great since it meant less travel, it also had its downside; this call being one of them.
Picking up my cell, I stared again at the blinking voicemail indicator. Brenda had called me an hour ago, and I was anxious to hear what she had to say, hopeful that my offer had been accepted. I’d low-balled a bit, offering only 1.8 million with the listing price being at 2.2 million. The house was nice, but it wasn’t two million nice. Finally, I heard Jay asking for final comments; the end was near.
The moment I disconnected, I dialed into my voicemail.
“Good morning, Malcolm. Give me a call when you get this message. I heard back from the sellers today.” Brenda’s voicemail gave no hint to what their decision was. I would think if they’d accepted, she would have left a congrats message instead. I dialed her number, and she picked up on the third ring.
“This is Brenda, how can I help you?”
“Hey, Brenda, Mal here.”
“Malcolm, dear, how are you today?” she asked, sounding cheerful.
“Well, that depends on what you have to tell me,” I replied, leaning back in my chair.
A pop-up thunderstorm had hit. The blue skies that welcomed me this morning were now dark and ominous. The heavy rain pelted my windows as I waited for her to respond with what I hoped was good news.
“I think your day is going to be brighter than this weather. They accepted your offer. Congratulations! You’re a homeowner.”
That news did brighten my day. We talked a bit about arranging for the home inspection and other next steps. When I hung up, I got ready to call Ginger, but my phone rang. My buddy Gerald’s number flashed across the screen. It had been a few months since we talked last. He told me he’d been clean for about six months and had just gotten picked up by the Tampa Bay Storm. His inability to get clean and stay that way for long had led him to blowing his shot in the NFL.
“G, man, what up?” I asked when I answered.
“Not much, dude. What’s your address? I’m in the city, and I’m crashing with you.”
“What the hell? How do you know I don’t have plans this weekend?”
“Because yo black ass don’t make plans any more than I do. Besides, you said when I was in the city to stop by. I’m here and stopping by.”
I laughed. We’d been friends since high school, and he hadn’t changed much in all that time. He was a good guy at heart, but he liked to party. What started out as recreational dabbling in drugs at college parties took over to become a bigger demon for him to battle, which was ironic since he was the one to call my parents after my accidental codeine overdose. I’ll never forget the look of sadness and disappointment that was on Mom’s face when I woke up in the hospital.
I rattled off my address before hanging up. If G was in town, that meant he was looking for some wild nights out clubbing and trying to pick up women. Something I didn’t mind as long as he kept his partying clean. Last time we went out, he ended up scoring some ecstasy and tried to dry hump me as I attempted to get him home. I thought I was gonna have to slug his ass and knock him out. I didn’t wish for a repeat of that night. Hopefully he was joking about crashing with me, because there was no way I was going to listen to him and some hoodrat defile my couch all night.
After picking up my coffee cup, I went to take a drink only to find it empty. I popped another K-cup into the machine before heading to throw on some sweats and a shirt. I’m sure G didn’t want me answering the door in my underwear. By the time I was dressed, my coffee was brewed. Man, I loved that machine. I laughed to myself, remembering how I thought Macy was crazy when she bought it for me, but now I couldn’t live without it.
My phone buzzed, with an email from Pete asking for the same information I’d already given him three fucking times. I swear I had no clue how he managed to get hired. I was convinced he was friends with someone in HR that gave him the hook up. After I finished forwarding him the previous response I’d already sent, I again started to call Ginger only to have a knock at my door interrupt. I opened it to see G’s smiling face.
“What up, man?” he said, giving me a hearty slap on my back as he walked in. “Like the place, dude.”
He dropped his bag as he fell down onto my couch, making himself at home.
“Thanks, it’s only temporary.”
“Why? You moving yo ass back to Charlotte?”
“Nah, just bought a house,” I replied, settling into the chair.
“Nigga, please. A house? That sounds too much like a domestic thing,” he said with a snort.
I let out a laugh and shook my head. “Just call it a wise investment. This place runs me eighteen hundred a month. I’m tired of paying someone else’s mortgage.”
He whistled through his teeth as he pushed himself off the couch to look around my small one-bedroom condo. “Eighteen hundred? What the fuck are you paying for? That stuffy, old ass doorman downstairs?”
“Yeah…that among other things, mostly location. And that view that you can’t see currently because of the clouds. Anyway, man, you want something to drink?”
I walked into the kitchen as Gerald took a seat on one of the barstools. He burst out laughing when he saw the Keurig machine. “Seriously, man...”
“What? Macy got it for me.”
His eyes lit up at the mention of my baby sister. “How is that fine piece of woman doing?”
“Don’t even go there.” I leveled my gaze at him. He’d been after Macy for years and I made sure he knew in no uncertain terms she was strictly off limits.
“Married,” I replied, pointing to the picture sitting on the corner of the counter.
Shaking his head in disbelief, he picked up the wedding photo. “Damn, I missed my chance.”
“Nigga, you never had a chance.”
We spent the rest of the day catching up while I kicked his ass on Madden. He was excited about getting picked up by the Storm. He wouldn’t be making the millions he’d hoped for, but he was at least back in the sport he loved. I hoped he would stay clean this time and keep his life on track.
By eleven, we were all set to go out. I’d decided on taking him to Reign, figuring it was a good mix of what he was looking for.
“Dude, a car seat?” Gerald remarked as he climbed into my Land Rover. “What girl tricked you into knocking her up?”
Shit. His comment about the car seat reminded me that I’d never called Ginger. Taking a quick glance at my watch, I saw it was too late to call now. I’d have to do it tomorrow and let her know about the house.
“Not my kid,” I replied as I cranked up the engine. “You remember Calida right? Macy’s friend?”
“The shy red-head?”
“Yep. That’s for her kid.”
“Just hers?”
I nodded.
“What? She let somebody hit that? I thought for sure she’d be a virgin for life. But hey…if she’s not as uptight—”
“Stop now if you know what’s good for you.”
Gerald looked confused for a second before a big grin spread across his face. “You hittin’ that.”
I shot him a glare. “For your sake, let’s drop the subject of Calida.”
He threw his hands up in surrender then cranked up the music as we drove to the club.
The place was packed, as expected on a Saturday night. G had already zoned in on some chick with a blonde weave and gray contacts, and I was expected to play his wingman to get the friend out of the way.
Keeping Sasha occupied while G tried to land her friend was easy enough. She had no problem talking about herself, and even less issue dropping not so su
btle hints about how she thought the night would go. In need of a refill, I left the dance floor in favor of the bar. I felt hands in my back pocket and turned to see Sasha had attached herself to me and gave my ass a squeeze in the process. She was tipsy but not totally wasted. However, the alcohol made her extremely forward. Well, at least I hoped it was the drinks. I smiled politely as I removed her hand, and moved her so she walked in front of me.
“Would you like another Sex on the Beach?” I asked, signaling for the bartender.
“For now,” she replied with a wink. “Hoping later I’ll have sex on a few other things.” I jumped when she reached out and rubbed my crotch.
I grabbed her wrist and turned her toward the bar to keep her wandering hands in sight. I shuddered from the violation and wondered if this was how women felt when guys grabbed on them while out at the club. My dick on the other hand enjoyed the attention; it had been too long since it had gotten any. That reaction gave her some false hope as the smile on her face grew bigger.
I stood behind her as I ordered our drinks. That only made things worse as she pushed back, and shook her ass against my crotch to the beat of the music. I stepped back, putting more space between us. G needed to hurry up and close the deal with the friend and get an invite to go back to her place.
I stayed by the bar, drinking my Jack and coke, with Sasha unfortunately staying close. She kept trying to get me to dance, but I politely declined each time. That didn’t deter her. She stood in front of me, continuing to dance along. I kept my body at an angle, leaning against the bar to keep from having a repeat incident. I’m sure she expected to get lucky like her friend, but no matter how much my dick had reacted, it wouldn’t be happening for her. At least not with me. To keep her somewhat happy, I kept her drinks flowing while I switched to drinking just coke. The more she drank, the bolder she got, and my patience wore thin. Gerald and the friend finally made their way off the dance floor to us. She was just as bold as the friend, leaving no questions about her intentions for the night.
