Stay with Me (Strickland Sisters Book 1)

by Alexandria House

  My eyes widened, and I looked over at Renee whose expression matched mine.

  “What?” Nicky asked, biting into a chip. “You think I don’t know I’m a ho’? Oh, I’m well aware of it, but I’m not your regular ho’. I’m a ho’ with a purpose. I’m hoeing for a husband.”

  “Wow,” I said.

  “It’s the truth! My hoeing is not purposeless, arbitrary hoeing. I’m very selective about who I screw. See, I’m a progressive ho’.”

  Renee was shaking her head as she fumbled in the basket for another chip. “Nicky…”

  “Anyway,” Nicky continued, “like I said, we need each other. So how about this? No more dogging each other. If we can’t lift each other up and be constructive with our words, we keep our mouths shut. Me and Angie won’t criticize your choice to stay with Satan anymore, Renee. It’s none of our business anyway.”

  “You had to refer to him as Satan?” I asked.

  Nicky shrugged.

  Renee sighed.

  “Soooo, Angie, how’s the new tenant?” Nicky asked.

  “Oh, you found one?” Renee questioned, obviously relieved that our conversation had shifted.

  The waitress approached us to take our orders, and after she left, I said, “He’s a great tenant. Quiet, paid the entire lease up front. I have no complaints.”

  “That’s great, Angje! I know it’s a gamble when you have rental property. You never know what you might be getting yourself into. Is it just one guy over there? That’s a big place for one person.”

  “No, it’s one fine-as-hell guy! Girl, I would’ve been done used my landlord key on him. He’d wake up with me on top of him!” Nicky declared.

  “Um, well, Nicky…that would be unlawful entry and rape. He’s fine, but I ain’t tryna get locked up,” I responded.

  “If you put it on him good, he’ll be thanking you instead of calling the police.”

  “I’ll pass. You know I don’t do relationships. I’ve had more than my share of shitty ones.”

  Nicky reclined in her chair, her eyes focused on me. “That’s your problem right there. Who said anything about a relationship? I’m talking about straight fucking, getting nasty, finally getting you a good orgasm.”

  “Nicky, lower your voice,” Renee said. “Do you have to be so graphic up in here?”

  Nicky threw a dismissive wave at Renee.

  I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms over my chest. “What makes you think I’ve never had a good orgasm?”

  “I’m talking about one induced by the actions of a flesh and blood man, not a mechanical device or your fingers. You and Benny were kids when you first got together, and I’m sure you were both virgins. He didn’t know what he was doing, was probably just pumping until he was done. I doubt you received any clitoral stimulation at all from him, and he was probably miles away from hitting your spot. I bet he couldn’t have found it even if he had the help of a turn-by-turn GPS navigational system.”

  I just pursed my lips and grabbed a chip, bringing it to my mouth and taking a bite. There wasn’t any point in denying that she was correct in her assessment.

  “And Khalil? Oh, he was a selfish lover. Anyone can look at him and tell he wasn’t about trying to please anyone but himself.”

  I remained silent.

  “Look, Ang, all I’m saying is, you’ve got to learn to look at men differently. You see a guy and instantly think relationship. How about just dating a guy? Going out and having some fun? Everything doesn’t have to be so serious.”

  “Says the woman who sees every man as a potential husband,” Renee quipped.

  Nicky rolled her eyes. “We’re supposed to be being nice and constructive. Remember?”

  “You called my husband Satan,” Renee said.

  “Okay, fine. My end game is finding a husband, but I still enjoy myself in the meantime, and I don’t try to force a relationship out of every encounter I have with a man.” She turned to me. “When was the last time you went out and had a good time, Angie?”

  I shrugged.

  “Never! You met those two butt cracks and instantly fell into a relationship. You’re attractive, successful, and sort of famous. You should be enjoying life, not—”

  Nicky was cut off by a young lady who approached our table and asked to take a picture with me, screaming, “It’s 4C Angie!” so loudly, I was afraid we’d get kicked out of the place. As I stood from my seat and posed for our ussie, I couldn’t get Nicky’s words out of my head. Her crazy butt was actually making sense for once.

  “See,” Nicky said once the three of us were alone at the table again. “You got too much going for yourself to stay up in that house watching YouTube all the time. You’ve gotta start living, sis.”

  All I could say in response was, “Yeah, I know.”

  Renee poked me. “So you’re actually taking advice from her?”

  I gave her a sheepish look. “I can’t deny that I’m lonely, Nay. I’ve been avoiding relationships, but I think Nicky is right. I’ve been looking at things wrong. The problem is, I’ve been running from men for so long, I wouldn’t know where to start with this dating thing.”

  “Start right next door with your fine tenant!” Nicky suggested.

  I shook my head. “That’s business, and you know I don’t mess around like that when it comes to business.”

  As the waitress placed our food before us, Nicky said, “All right, let me handle it for you. Be sure to go out and buy you a nice outfit. I’m gonna get you a date for Saturday night. I have just the guy in mind.”

  “Please, none of your leftovers,” I said.

  “Girl, I might be a ho’, but I have scruples. I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Thank God,” Renee said.

  *****

  Nicky fixed me up with one of her professors, a thirty-six-year-old man named Dr. Harrison Fletcher who taught graphic design, a class she didn’t need for her degree but was taking basically because she felt like it. She sent me a picture she took during class in a text message informing me that he was going to give me a call that same night after our lunch. He was nice, a little on the quiet side, handsome (according to his picture), and eager to meet me. Nicky said she’d shown him a picture of me, so at least I knew he wasn’t expecting Nicky Strickland 2.0. My sister’s tiny body screamed sex toy while mine shouted grown woman.

  He suggested we go to a jazz club called Coda, a new place I’d never been to, because I’d basically been nowhere since my break from Khalil. Who the hell was I kidding? I barely went anywhere with him when we were together as he was not only tacky and cheap, but also extremely thoughtless.

  Anyway, Harrison sold the idea of going to the club when he told me about their killer menu, so I agreed to meet him there rather than letting him pick me up since I didn’t know him.

  When I texted Nicky to let her know we were going out, she replied with: Yessssss! Now I can only hope it leads to a good, steamy one-night-stand. Every girl needs to experience one of those.

  Rolling my eyes, I responded with: U need help, baby sis. Serious help.

  I really wondered if her brain was able to function above vagina-level.

  I spent Friday morning washing and twisting my hair. That afternoon was spent shopping for an outfit that was conservatively sexy. Something that accentuated my femininity without giving the impression that I was loose. After perusing three stores, I found a gorgeous strapless black maxi dress that made me look like a goddess. I already had the perfect pair of black shoes and some silver jewelry that would go great with it. Now all I had to do was hope the anxiety I was experiencing at the thought of actually going out with a man wouldn’t overtake me and cause me to back out.

  7

  When I arrived at the club, Harrison was standing outside near the entrance waiting for me, wearing brown slacks and a light orange dress shirt. He was tall, wore his thick hair in dreadlocks, and sported a full beard and glasses. I could almost feel his nervousness in the air as I approached, but
once I smiled at him, he returned it with a warm one of his own, taking my hand and leading me into the building.

  Inside, we took our seats, ordered drinks, and chatted about little benign things like the ridiculously high pollen count and a recent storm system that had swept through the southern half of the nation. Once our drinks were delivered and we’d placed our food orders, we delved a little deeper with our conversation. I shared the ins and out of YouTuber life, and he told me all about graphic design and his love of typography. The evening was going well, and it honestly felt fantastic to just be spending time with a man whose goal in life wasn’t to rip my soul from me and leave me lying in the middle of the busiest street in the city writhing in pain.

  But as pleasantly as the evening was progressing, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being watched. I could feel eyes on me, damn near gazing through me. I wanted to turn and see who it was, but didn’t for fear that it was Benny or Khalil, because I was in such a good mood, I didn’t want one of them to ruin it for me. Hell, they’d ruined enough, more than enough. I’d let them ruin enough, had spent years running from having a real life because of them, so no, I wouldn’t even toss a glance at whichever one of them was searing a hole into the exposed skin of my shoulders. As a matter of fact, I smiled and grinned and laughed like Harrison was the most charming and enigmatic man I’d ever met. I mean, I put on a real live show in that club. When the evening ended, as we were leaving, I finally chanced a glance around the dim room, seeing no familiar faces.

  I saw her when she entered the club. From my vantage point at the bar, I actually had a perfect view of the patrons trickling into the place. I was waiting for Alexis, hoping for a repeat of what we shared the first night we met, but it was Ms. Strickland who captured and held my attention from the moment she entered the room and took a seat maybe ten feet away from me. She was with a man who looked like the thought of an all-night Minecraft tournament would be the highlight of his year—clean-cut, nice, and boring as hell.

  She could do so much better, I thought.

  She was gorgeous, and the uncovered cinnamon-brown skin of her shoulders and upper back looked soft, silken, and made me lick my lips and smile. Up until that point, I’d only ever seen her in jeans and t-shirts. Tonight, she was stunning.

  “I bet Urkel’s ass has no clue what to do with her,” I mumbled. But I did. Images of what I could do to her flashed before me, and I thought, damn shame she’s my landlord.

  Truly a damn shame.

  Poindexter said something, and she threw her head back in laughter. I smirked. I supposed she liked him. Maybe she was just into geeks. I shrugged and raised my glass to get the bartender’s attention. Seconds later, I was throwing back my whiskey, my eyes still on Ms. Strickland’s back, traveling up to the thick hair that covered her head. I imagined sinking my fingers in it while she—

  “Hey, you been waiting long?”

  I looked up and smiled at Alexis, relieved she’d finally made it, because my landlord had me hard as a brick, and admittedly, a little frustrated, but rules were rules. Touching her would complicate my life. I didn’t deal well with complications, so I just avoided them. And from the looks of things, I wasn’t her type anyway. Wait a minute. Of course I was her type. I was every woman’s type.

  “No, not long,” I replied, giving Alexis my full attention.

  “Good. My babysitter was late.”

  “I see. Well, I’m glad you still made it. Ready to go? I know I am.” I leaned in close to her and nuzzled her neck. She smelled good enough to eat. If she plays her cards right, that just might happen, too.

  She giggled. “Mm, let me get one drink and then we can head out.”

  “Great, already got us a room at the Kingston Inn.”

  “You know, we could just go to your place, save some money…”

  Shit, she moved faster than I anticipated. I had hoped she wouldn’t try to find out where I lived until we’d been together at least twice. See, another one of my rules was to never divulge my address. This was going to have to be my last night with Alexis.

  Another damn shame.

  I watched her sip on a drink, and when she finally indicated she was ready to leave, I smiled and took her hand, letting my eyes shift back to Ms. Strickland and her shoulders for only a second as I exited the club.

  8

  “So you had a good time with Professor Fletcher, huh?” Nicky asked, as I led her into my living room.

  I watched her plop down on my sofa and gave her a smile. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

  “He had a little pep in his step this morning.”

  It was Monday afternoon and since our date on Saturday, we’d met for coffee on Sunday and made plans to attend the Jesse Boykins III concert at the Regal Amphitheater together on the following Friday. I relayed all of this to Nicky and in response, she sighed.

  “You just can’t help it, can you?”

  I frowned. “Help what?”

  “You are exactly one date away from being in a relationship with a man you just met! I mean, really, Ang? Really? This is exactly how you ended up with Benny and Khalil!”

  “I like him. What am I supposed to do? Just stop seeing him?”

  She leaned forward, carefully enunciating every word as if each was foreign to me. “You’re supposed to be dating. Like, more than one guy.”

  “You had to fix me up with Harrison. How am I supposed to find another guy to go out with?”

  “Sis! You’re an attractive woman. You have a nice body. You gonna sit there and tell me guys don’t approach you—oh, wait, your ass is a hermit. I forgot.”

  I lifted a brow. “I actually leave home quite often.”

  “I know. You frequent several drive-thrus, and I bet when you do happen to go into a public place, you’re wearing that scowl you always wear. Poor guys are probably afraid to even approach you.”

  I frowned. “What scowl?”

  “That one! The one you’re wearing now. That ‘do not approach me, I’m not interested’ scowl.”

  I pursed my lips. “Whatever.”

  “Here’s your mission: go somewhere, anywhere, and smile and be friendly. I bet some guy approaches you.”

  “And stop seeing Harrison?”

  “At least put more days between your dates with him. Sheesh!”

  I opened my mouth to reply, but a knock at my front door halted me. Nicky’s eyes were glued to me as I stood and checked the peephole. Glancing at her, I opened the door and smiled at him. “Hi,” I said.

  “Hi, um…the mailman stuck some of your mail in my box,” he said, holding up a couple of envelopes.

  “Oh, thank you. It happens from time to time. I’ll probably be bringing you your misplaced mail sooner or later.”

  Ryan Boyé’s eyes sparkled. “Well, at least you know where I live.”

  “Yeah, off early today?” I asked for some unknown reason. I guess I just wanted an excuse to look at him a little longer, and of course, to hear his voice.

  “Angie, you could let the man in instead of interrogating him in your doorway,” Nicky called from behind me.

  “Oh, yeah. I’m being rude. Wanna come in?” I asked.

  With a smile, he replied, “Sure.”

  He took a seat in the accent chair I had vacated, and I sat next to Nicky on the sofa. “Mr. Boyé, this is my sister, Nicole. Nicky, this is my new tenant, Ryan Boyé.”

  “Pleasure to meet you,” he said, standing to shake Nicky’s hand.

  “Oooh, nice accent. Louisiana, right?” Nicky flirted.

  He gave her a lopsided grin. “Yes.”

  “Hmm,” Nicky said, eyeing him like a shark would a school of tiny fish.

  “So, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what exactly is it that you do at Sable Inc.? Like, what does Project Oversight Manager mean?” I asked, hoping to ease any awkwardness Nicky’s appraisal might’ve been causing. Her eyes were glued to the man!

  “It means I oversee any new projects the compa
ny’s hospitality division undertakes. Here, we’re refurbishing that old Covington Inn building out by the train station. A local business-owner has purchased a Sable Inn franchise from us to be housed there, and it’s my job to offer support to the franchisee with everything from securing contracts with vendors to training staff. Basically, my main purpose here is to ensure that the hotel meets our standards so that when it opens, the guests will know without a doubt that they’ve stepped into a Sable Inn.”

  “Oh, wow. That sounds really interesting. How long have you been doing that?” I asked.

  “We just began our foray into the hospitality industry two years ago. Before that, I oversaw other projects like the establishment of satellite offices, and for a short while, I handled our grocery store chain franchises. It’s a great job. I get to travel the world. I love it.”

  “Travel the world? I’m sure I would love that, too,” I said.

  “Girl, please! You have the best job in the world, and you have great opportunities to travel.” Nicky turned to Ryan. “You know, my sister’s a YouTube celebrity, a hair vlogger. She gets invited to hair and beauty events all the time. She was even invited to Paris. If I could just get her to go somewhere…”

  I shook my head. “Don’t mind my sister. She loves to exaggerate.”

  “Yeah, right!” Nicky shot back.

  “I had no idea you were a vlogger. Now, that’s interesting,” Ryan said, his eyes glued to me.

  I shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”

  “How’d you get started with that?” he asked, seeming genuinely interested.

  I leaned back and smiled. “Well, a few years back, I had just done the big chop, you know, cut my permed hair off to go natural? And I was between jobs, home bored one day when I decided to document my hair journey on video and upload it to YouTube like I’d seen other people doing, and to my surprise, I became popular pretty fast. Started out using my cell phone and eventually got a digital camera and some studio lights, and the rest is history. I became 4C Angie.”