“This is living, Blake. I’m not ready to leave. Let’s stay an extra week,” he said as though he wasn’t asking.
Unlike Mr. Sterling, I couldn’t be a no-show and risk losing my job. “I have to get back to work.”
“Obviously, you need more than money. What will it take for me to convince you to quit?”
Corporate had overlooked me ten consecutive times for a position they knew I deserved. Walking away for a man when I’d never had a man provide for me wasn’t wise. I was still getting acclimated to my new Consumer Retention Management Analyst title. Had the ear of my supervisor to create an interoffice cross-departmental position specifically for me. That way I could acquire skills from various areas while preparing myself for advancement. She was a thirty-year-old millennial who embraced innovators. My counterpart, Herman, a guy who felt my presentation of fresh ideas was stealing his spotlight, wanted me gone!
Admiring Bing’s beautiful birthday suit, I touched his thigh. I was no Cinderella charity case but he was definitely Prince Charming. My mind flashed to the urgent conversation I needed to have with Ruby, just as Bing said, “I don’t want my wife to work.”
That was more of a statement than a proposal. Wasn’t sure what to say. Had my own agenda. “I’m going to text you my sister Ruby’s contact before we leave.” Should’ve given him a number for emergency purposes a while ago, but I had an ulterior motive for this decision.
He nodded. “Text me the girls’ contacts too,” he insisted, then followed with, “I’m not in the habit of repeating myself.”
Giving him Devereaux’s, Mercedes’s, and Sandara’s numbers might happen. Sharing Alexis’s contact info was out of the question. Slightly annoyed, I pressed the rim of the flute to my lips, tossed back my head, and gulped the remainder of my cocktail.
Bing grabbed my flute. “Wait! I didn’t expect you to do that. Don’t—”
Coughing, I covered my mouth, heaved, then spat the largest pink diamond solitaire I’d seen into my palm. Tears from my esophagus being scratched and those of disbelief chased one behind the other. I was glad I hadn’t swallowed.
Standing in front of me, Bing took the ring. His dick swaying in front of my face was not a distraction as he decorated my finger.
His eyes softened as he stared into mine. Passionately, he said, “Marry me, Blake.”
Again, his tone wasn’t in the form of a question. There was nothing to ponder. If God allowed me to live another fifty years, I doubted I’d find a love and a lover like this.
“I accept.”
“Then I insist we stay a week longer,” he said, wiping my fingers with a napkin. “No worries. The jeweler will be here momentarily to properly clean her up.”
Her? Hmm. I liked that. Yes. Just decided to name my alter ego after the shine on my rock . . . Blaze.
Stains and all, I was not taking this precious gem off. I countered, “Three days.” That way I could call in sick for a few days.
“Deal. I’ll reserve my private jet to Hartsfield in three days, then I’ll meet you in Charlotte on day four,” he said.
Day what? Holding my bling up to eye level, reluctantly I smiled, then nodded.
My fiancé suctioned my tongue into his mouth. I hadn’t realized my lips were tight until Bing held my face, then asked, “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
If I lied about something this small, our entire relationship would be ruined. “Can we leave as planned tomorrow? I really need to get back to work.”
“No problem. Don’t want you to be late,” he said, then added, “You can leave now. I’ll have my assistant charter you a jet and pack your bags.”
“Bing, please don’t take it the wrong way. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I ask you to marry me. Gave you a pink seven-carat solitaire, flawless, I might add. And you can’t enjoy our engagementmoon? You have your priorities confused,” he said, walking away.
Watching the sunrise beam to a blinding shine, memories of how fast the most beautiful moments with my ex had instantly become the worst. I felt stupid. I wanted to take the ring off ’cause as usual, I didn’t deserve it.
I’d learned that time and silence were the best resolutions to my conflicts. Nothing at home was so pressing that it couldn’t wait a few more days. My fear of losing control of my welfare made me cling to employment situation.
Sitting at the table, I held up my hand, admired that . . . it was on my hand, and he’d put it there. I loved this man. Three days. Seven. I wasn’t going anywhere until my fiancé was ready.
Truth was, I’d give him my last. But I was scared to let him love all of me.
CHAPTER 12
Mercedes
I couldn’t stay at Devereaux’s house forever, nor did I want to.
Propping a purple beaded square pillow with bold splashes of red behind my back, I reached for my phone, then read the morning texts from my children’s father. The smile on my face grew wider with each message.
Babe, are you okay?
Call me when you get this message to let me know you’re safe.
I cooked for you again tonight. Putting the kids to bed. Want to talk?
What time are you coming home tonight?
Mercedes. I get it! I’m sorry. Let’s talk.
I’m not your manny! I’m your husband!!
Where are you? Who are you with?
It’s cool. You want to be an unfit mother. An adulteress. A whore. A slut. Shack up with another man. Fine! He can have you!!
I know what you did!
If you’re not home tonight, stay gone! I’ll file for divorce!
Laughing hard, I refused to reply. He didn’t know anything. I’d sworn my other two sisters and my mother to secrecy via text. They replied but no one had called to check on me. My car was where I’d parked it the night Phoenix was arrested. I hadn’t left Devereaux’s house in three days.
“Benjamin. Benjamin,” I said softly, then took a selfie below my waist.
ThermiVa was more amazing than I’d ever imagined. I sent Dr. Stephens an e-mail, Haven’t tried out my new “good good” yet. Maybe tonight.
The sexual energy circulating in my womb made me want to entertain myself. I got out of bed, went to the bathroom. Gathering my light brown wooly hair under a zebra-print cap, I stared into my greenish-gray eyes.
Was my father white? Did his complexion and my mother’s dark tone create my creamy skin? Did he know I was alive? Did my mother know who my father was?
Not wanting to break my own heart questioning the unknown, I turned on the water, stepped into the shower, adjusted the temperature hot as I could enjoy it, then I removed the handheld wand. Water sputtered against my vulva. I switched to a rapid pulsation. Alternated back and forth, then twisted the knob all the way to the blue side to icy cold.
Closing my eyes, I exhaled my sexual frustrations, relaxed my shoulders, stretched my neck side to side. “Thank you, Jesus.” I deserved this total body pleasure even if I had to give it to myself. My new pussy was my little secret from my man. Opening my eyes, knowing he was sexing his mistress, I might not ever let him lick this again.
Benjamin’s communication was his guilty conscience for cheating making him worry if I was doing the same. Not a single text from my husband was about me. If I was home, he’d be with her. My husband was more pissed over not being able to cuddle up with his mistress the last few nights. That, or he was lonely in our bed.
Welcome to my world, honey!
“Oh, my, God.” My “good good” felt like ice chips were bouncing off of my clit as I came.
Soon as I was alone at my place, I was going to cum as many times as I could and scream loud as I desired, then enjoy a fine glass of red wine. Drying my body, I flinched when I grazed my kitty.
The scent of fresh-brewed coffee crept into my sister’s guest bedroom where I’d peacefully slept. I’d borrowed everything of hers, from the red nightie I’d slipped on to her clothes and natural hair-care products.
> Placing the plastic cap on the vanity, I stared into the mirror, then fingered my spirally afro. “I really need to take off an inch or two,” I said, patting the edges almost a foot away from my scalp. I brushed my teeth.
God could not have created a more perfect being. Observing my mother’s passive behavior taught me what not to do. My work here at my sister’s was done. Time to let her thank me and return to my home front.
Trotting down a flight of stairs, I was in awe of how Devereaux’s mansion was fit for royalty. The double en-suites in her master bedroom, three guest rooms, Nya’s princess palace, Devereaux’s private office, the waterfall in her living room were sheer paradise. Bet the cot Phoenix was curled up on in a cell made him regret he’d got caught fucking Ebony.
Devereaux was at her darling nook, sipping from her #SSCATL mug. I glanced at her papers. She was going over her script for film the way I’d seen her start each day.
Dawn’s light peeped through the uncovered bay windows. Her lifestyle was foreign to me. I’d gone from living with Alexis and Sandara in our mother’s house, to having a roommate at Spelman for four years, to marrying Benjamin, his buying us a home and my giving birth to twins. Had lots of lonely nights. Never lived a night alone.
Each day Devereaux departed by seven in the morning, I had her home to myself.
“Morning,” I whispered. Helping myself to a cup of Colombian dark roast, I joined my sister at the table. “I’ll pick up Nya from Sandara’s for you today and keep her long as you’d like.”
Witnessing how hard Devereaux worked, I had to make sure she didn’t slip back to her ex by allowing him or his mother to babysit my niece.
She muttered, “Nya’s good. Sandara cancelled another go-see.”
“What?” I raced upstairs, sent a text on my way down, Why are you a No-Show again?
baby daddies drama something you can’t relate to, she replied.
Once upon a time that was true. She knew my current situation wasn’t peachy. All my family did.
Reclaiming my seat, I decided not to respond to my baby sister right away. I’d call her after Devereaux left.
Our mother had done a few things appropriately. Just a few. Blake requested that despite our dysfunctions and differences, we’d unite when necessary. Didn’t always work. Devereaux took me everywhere with her until she went to college. Then I’d get an occasional invite to a campus party. A year later, I was at Spelman and we were closer. After she started dating Phoenix her senior year while she was at Clark-Atlanta . . . I lost my best friend. We went from talking all the time to my seldom hearing her voice.
“Good morning, Mercedes,” she said, placing the paper in her hand on top of the stack. “We need to talk.” Sliding her black-rimmed glasses to the top of her head, she continued, “I’ve wanted to say this for three days. I—”
“I know. You don’t have to say it. I appreciate your letting me stay. I’ll be gone by the time you get back.”
Devereaux took a deep breath. “I—”
“Trust me. I get that you need your space. I want you to focus on your television series. I’ll give Sandara a break and get Nya and I—”
This time she interrupted me. “Mercedes, shut the hell up. And listen!”
I stretched my neck backward and my eyelids widened. I heaved hot air toward her face. “How dare—”
“Do it again and you’ll have to call the police on me.” The tip of her finger was less than inch from my nose.
The strain of my eyes focusing on her nail hurt. What was her problem? I’d been exhaling since I was a kid. Obviously, her passive-aggression had kicked in and she was ready to dominate my conversation. Folding my arms under my breasts, I leaned back in my seat.
Here she goes.
“I don’t care how you take this and I mean it. I asked you to meet me the other day at Haven because Mother was busy, and I wouldn’t dare ask for advice from Alexis or Sandara. For once, I needed you to listen to me.”
Well, I agreed with her in part. Alexis had been quiet. Hadn’t heard from her since I’d been here. Hopefully, she’d had that abortion. Sandara, if she kept letting the lowlifes keep her on her back, she’d better stay put and hold on to that Section 8 certificate. I was not going to waste my precious time on them, but the last person I’d accept relationship advice from was our mother.
Snapping her fingers in front my face, Devereaux commanded, “Stay focused on me. I came to you to share, I’m—”
Aw, hell no! I had to interject, “Don’t snap at me again and you’d better not be not pregnant with that loser’s baby. He’s—”
Slam! My sister’s hand hit the table so hard, both cups of coffee splashed, staining her papers. She needed to get laid soon. I did too. Devereaux was not going to ruin my self-love high. I had two more ThermiVa treatments to go. My husband wasn’t seeing my new pussy until he came to his damn senses.
Devereaux popping her little fingers again, it was old. I thought, Oh, well. They were her soggy papers. She could trash them, clean up her mess, and start all over. I was nobody’s maid. Not even my husband’s. I sat waiting for the next act.
“You are about the rudest bitch I know, Mercedes! If you don’t want to hear me out . . .” She paused. “You know what. This is my damn house and I don’t have to accept your demonic behavior. Get! Out!”
Tears flooded my gown.
Devereaux became quiet.
Demonic? Would Benjamin agree? Embarrassed, I covered my face. Crying was a sign of weakness. Told myself, Get yourself together.
My sister didn’t move to console me or apologize.
Fine. I put my tears on halt, initiated a peace offering to hug her. She pushed me away, the same way she’d done the other night after the cops handcuffed her leeching man and removed him for her house. A thank-you from her to me was warranted. But I supposed I deserved this . . . according to her.
“I’m listening. For real this time. And I apologize.” I never had said or would say “I’m sorry.” That was reserved for losers like Phoenix. He was beyond redemption. That man was pathetic.
“I swear, if you interrupt me, I’m getting up from this table and I will never speak to you again.”
Never? That was harsh, I thought, staring into her eyes. I heard her say that before. Devereaux couldn’t throw out an old, worn pair of shoes, end a toxic relationship with Phoenix, or stay mad at anybody, especially me. Wasn’t her fault. Libras required balance. My sister was the most forgiving person in our family.
She’d adjust. She always did.
“I know you don’t care for Phoenix, and trust me, the feeling is mutual. I wanted to open up to you. Tell you how much my heart aches every night when I sleep in my bed alone. Find out how you deal with Benjamin practically living with Arizona since you confirmed then confronted him about cheating. Sis, I struggle to look like I’ve got it all together but I’m falling apart.”
I watched the tears roll down her face. I wanted to hug her but I wasn’t foolish enough to initiate that again. My birthday was April first. Aries were sensitive, but we could turn on a person without their ever knowing. Exhaling through my nostrils, I listened as she’d requested.
“Are you aware that Sandara’s court date is coming up soon? Blackstone convinced the others to join him and all three of her children’s fathers are taking her to court for child support.”
A half smile spread toward my left cheek, my eyes shined a little, as I remained silent shaking my head. Guess Sandara wished she could change her mind about taking my advice. Told her to empty her babies daddies’ pockets, snatch their tax refunds, make them pay.
Those trifling deadbeats wanted to cash in on Sandara’s modeling contract. They’d omitted the most pertinent aspect: custody. Obviously, they didn’t want to see their kids. If they did, they didn’t need money for that. No worries, I’d tell Sandara how to handle those dirty bastards. The kids go with the check. If I divorced Benjamin, I’d gladly pay him to raise our children.
&
nbsp; Devereaux continued, “Alexis wants to abort the baby and she’s asked me to go with her. I stopped responding to her messages days ago because I can’t support her on this. She knows I’m pro-life. Maybe you can take her.”
Was that a plea for me to step in? I wanted to comment that she needs to exercise her pro-choice rights, do the right thing, and terminate the pregnancy but at almost six months, I wasn’t going to take her because she’d waited too long. I kept my mouth shut. That girl can’t take care of herself. What was she going to do with a dependent?
“We’re all messed up, Mercedes. You think it’s because we don’t know who our fathers are? Alexis was the only one to meet her dad and now he’s dead. I pray mine is still alive. I want to find my father. I want to know my father. Doesn’t it bother you not knowing yours?” she asked with watery eyes.
Was this her way of granting me permission to say something? I nodded once, remained quiet.
Devereaux said, “I’m not going to take Phoenix back.”
I had to say, “Good.”
“But I can’t lie and say I don’t want to. If he’ll sleep with my cast member.”
My eyes stretched, causing her to pause. Sleep? Honey, he had a full-blown dick-all-down-her-throat relationship with Ebony Waterhouse. Hell, she was the main and you were his side. There was no equality here.
She read me. “I hear you. But hear this. I love you with all my heart. But don’t you ever again put me in a position to choose between you and Phoenix. He went to jail when you’re the one that should’ve been arrested.”
What the hell! She could save the entertainment for one of her scripts. Trifling-ass Phoenix. Yes, he did deserve to be behind bars for leeching off of my sister and if she was too blind to see it, I was no longer going to convince her otherwise. I may have gotten the cuffs slapped on but his failures to appear got him thrown in the backseat of the patrol car. He should blame his mother for not raising him. When a man’s mother didn’t want him . . . damn.
The One I've Waited For Page 8
