He's Just A Friend

by Mary B. Morrison

  The telephone rang, interrupting her plot against Harry. Fancy hurried to answer. “Hello.”

  “Hey, this is Steven. What are you doing tonight?”

  “Busy. Why? What’s up?”

  “I’ve got two tickets to the Golden Gate Theatre tonight. You can wear that sexy black number I bought you yesterday.”

  Fancy rolled her eyes and silently exhaled. “I’m getting ready to go run the lake.” Steven was crazy if he thought she’d waste wearing one of her new party dresses on a date with him. The long black shawl wrapped around a sleeveless stretch-lace minidress. With that outfit she could go from amazingly gorgeous to I-know-you-wanna-fuck-me in less than five seconds.

  Steven sang, “I have the money you asked for.”

  Fancy thought about it for a moment. “I gotta go. Good-bye.”

  When the phone rang again, Fancy answered, “I said, no!”

  “But I haven’t asked yet.” Byron’s voice was friendly.

  “Oh, no. I’m sorry. I thought you were Tanya calling back. Hi, baby.”

  “Would you like to accompany me tonight?”

  Fancy spoke softly, “Yes, I’d love to.”

  “I’ll pick you up at five. Bye.”

  “Bye, baby.”

  Fancy hung up and immediately called the phone company. “Yes, I’d like to change my number. Someone is harassing me.”

  “Okay, hold please.”

  Fancy smiled as the operator gave her a private number. Steven was dismissed. Harry was about to be pissed. And Adam was the only sponsor worth servicing and soon he’d be history.

  In less than an hour, Fancy jogged three laps—almost ten miles—around Lake Merritt. She soaked in a tub of black cherry salt water then wrapped hot steamy towels around her legs for five minutes. Generously smoothing virgin olive oil on her legs, Fancy shaved. Byron had all the qualities she wanted in a man. Wealthy. Intelligent. Handsome. Masculine. Attentive. No wife or kids. And he cared about her. Fancy dried off, tossed the towel in its hamper, and sifted through her wardrobe. Tonight she would dress extra provocative for her man. Steven’s investment was the perfect outfit for the occasion.

  Red sling-back open-toe shoes displayed her African pedicure. Her body tingled from the peppermint body lotion. The softest after-five dress, that she’d just removed the tag from, caressed her body and her naked booty. The hemline rested six inches above her knees. Her nipples stood firm, highlighting her cleavage.

  Fancy waited in the lobby because if Byron came up to get her, they’d end up having sex on the balcony again. But this time it was five o’clock in the evening not late at night or early morning.

  When Byron entered the lobby, Fancy twirled and floated into his arms.

  “Hi, baby. Um, you smell good,” Fancy said. She lovingly smoothed her hand over the back of Byron’s head and massaged his neck.

  “You know what that does to me. Remember last weekend.” Byron nodded at the doorman, and then smiled at Fancy. “You look absolutely beautiful.”

  “Thanks,” Fancy said, easing into his Jaguar.

  “I have a surprise.” Byron eased his hand up Fancy’s thigh. “Whoa, I see you have one too.” His smile widened.

  “Oh, I love surprises.” Fancy closed her eyes.

  “Not so fast this time,” Byron said. “I’ll tell you later.”

  Byron had already given her a diamond tennis bracelet, the platinum anklet she was wearing, and several rings. Maybe tonight he’d give her the ring she’d earned.

  Byron pulled into a long driveway high in the Oakland Hills.

  Fancy laughed. “Okay, whose house are we christening tonight?”

  “Honey, this brother is strictly business. He is the man. This might as well be his vacation home because he’s never here.”

  Large white pillars separated the house and driveway. Walking up two flights of stairs into the mansion, Fancy imagined herself living there with Byron. What if that was their new home and Byron was proposing to her tonight?

  Fancy’s eye’s widened as she stepped inside. Oh, hell no! No way. This couldn’t be her new home. Gorgeous women in tuxedo bikinis pranced around in stilettos serving smiles. Before one of them got too close to Byron, Fancy frowned at her, then tightly hugged Byron’s arm.

  “Who did you say lives here?” Fancy asked Byron, entering a crowded room. Everyone was standing because there were no chairs in the room.

  “Here he comes now,” Byron said, then whispered, “You have to watch him. He loves pretty women.”

  “Hey, Byron. Glad you could make it, man.”

  Fancy could never forget those perfect locks.

  Byron’s friend eyed Fancy. “All-star?” He looked at Byron and raised an eyebrow.

  Byron nodded and said, “For sho. This is my lady, Fancy Taylor. Fancy, this is my boy, Darius Jones.”

  Lady? Fancy thought. Byron hadn’t introduced her like that before. Damn, Darius was fine as hell. Tall as heaven. And had Miss Kitty singing his praises.

  “Look, man”—Darius patted Byron on the back—“enjoy yourselves.” Darius smiled, winked at Byron, and kissed two of the models as they passed.

  “He’s who did you say?” Fancy needed more information on this arrogant Darius guy. Her first encounter with him at Byron’s fund-raiser was counterproductive, but Fancy had a plan.

  “You’ve heard of Black Diamonds, right?” Byron asked.

  “I believe so,” Fancy replied. Who hadn’t heard of Black Diamonds?

  “Well, Jada Diamond, the owner of Black Diamonds, is his mother and she’s standing over there next to her new husband.” Byron pointed, then added, “Wellington Jones is Darius’s father.” Byron escorted Fancy upstairs. She listened intently. As Byron volunteered information, Fancy stored the data in her memory bank.

  Fancy’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? He is the Darius Jones? Darius Jones of Somebody’s Gotta Be On Top Enterprises?” Fancy stood at the top of the staircase observing Darius. At this point she was more interested in touring her new home than marrying Byron. Byron had created unimaginable opportunities for Fancy.

  “That’s him.” Byron grabbed Fancy’s hand. “Let’s check out his guest rooms,” Byron said with a horny, devilish grin.

  “I’m hungry,” Fancy lied. “Can we get something to eat first?” She led Byron down the stairs so she could get closer to Darius. Watching the models, Fancy wondered if they were live-in servants. Those anorexic, breast-implanted hoochies would be the first ones fired after Fancy moved in.

  “What’s an all-star?” Fancy asked Byron, holding a china saucer of hors d’oeuvres she had no intention of eating.

  “Oh, that’s just a term we use for . . . hum . . . how can I say this.” Byron shook his head. “On second thought, you don’t wanna know. But it is a compliment.”

  “Okay, if you insist. So how do you know Darius?” Fancy asked.

  “We played ball together at Georgetown U in D.C. His real father, Darryl Williams, is a retired NBA player, who was also our head coach. That’s enough questions about Darius. You wanna know what your surprise is?” Byron hugged Fancy.

  “I sure do,” Fancy said, hugging Byron and gazing over his shoulder at Darius. Darius winked and smiled at her so Fancy smiled too.

  Byron led Fancy to the front porch. He removed a small box from his pocket and handed it to Fancy.

  “What’s this?”

  “Open it.”

  Fancy delicately peeled away the wrapping. Frowning, she questioned, “A key?” It was a tiny little gold key that resembled one that would fit an old-fashioned padlock. She smiled at Byron. “To what?”

  “You’ll see. Let’s go.”

  This was the best evening Fancy had had in long time. Marrying Darius was her destiny. Why else would she keep running into him? When Byron parked in front of her apartment building, there was a new metallic white two-seater Benz wrapped in a red ribbon.

  “This key doesn’t fit a car.”

  “You’r
e right. I’ll trade you,” Byron said, handing her the key to the car.

  Fancy switched the keys and gave Byron a huge kiss. Lipstick was all over his mouth. She tore the ribbon and sat behind the wheel of her new car. Fancy inhaled. This was the first time someone had given her a new car. The car Desmond gave her was pre-owned, but the Benz! That was fancy! And Fancy. Sixty-nine miles registered on the odometer.

  “I gotta get going,” Byron said, walking away. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

  Fancy kissed Byron long and soft. “Why don’t you come upstairs so I can thank you properly?”

  “No, I really have to get going.”

  “So what was the other key to?” Fancy asked.

  Byron glimpsed at Fancy and replied, “For starters, my heart. I’m not so sure it’s me you want. Enjoy the ride.” Then he walked away.

  CHAPTER 12

  Vigorously SaVoy brushed her teeth, rinsed with a blue-mint mouthwash, smiled in the mirror, and said, “I love you. Choose the words you speak today very carefully. Lord, if my words influence anyone, I pray that I make a positive difference in their life.”

  Every morning SaVoy was happy because sunrise represented a new beginning. Each night she prayed, and whatever troubles she encountered throughout the day, SaVoy left them with the Lord and slept peacefully. With her affirmation in mind, SaVoy went into the family room, gathered her books, and checked her backpack, hoping she hadn’t forgotten anything this time. “Bye, Papa. I’m going to the library, then to class. I’ll relieve Tanya at three. Have a wonderful day, Papa.”

  Not quite forty, barely five-foot-four inches, her dad was a handsome man. A no-nonsense man. A loving and caring man. His mustache slightly curved at the corners and tickled her jaw when he kissed her good-bye. Papa had dark brown eyes, broad shoulders, and the same long slender nose she had. When SaVoy hugged her father, a shadow crossed the kitchen doorway commanding her attention.

  SaVoy’s eyes widened as she smiled. “Hi, Vanessa.”

  For as long as SaVoy remembered, Vanessa was the only woman Papa had dated. But why hadn’t Papa married Vanessa? Maybe because she was always out of town on business. Or perhaps Papa wouldn’t marry Vanessa because she placed her career ahead of having his baby and had aborted his child. Last year when she turned forty—despite Papa’s protest—Vanessa had a tubal ligation.

  “Hi. I’m in here trying to decide what to cook with these eggs. How’s college coming along?”

  Vanessa’s personality was a lot like Papa’s. Straightforward. Kind. But unlike Papa, Vanessa didn’t censor her words. Before SaVoy began her menstrual cycle, Vanessa had told SaVoy the truth about menstruation, where babies came from, and how a woman conceived. Vanessa introduced SaVoy to plays at the Black Repertory Theatre, the ballet, and musicals at the Paramount. The last time Vanessa stayed the night at their house, she had shared information—about sex and relationships—that left SaVoy with unanswered questions.

  SaVoy raised her voice and replied, “Fine. Glad it’s almost over though so I can take a break.”

  Vanessa stood in the kitchen doorway waving a green plastic spatula. “Forget about a break, honey. Keep going until you get your PhD. Then you can take a break.”

  The highest degree Vanessa had was a Master’s so SaVoy imagined Vanessa, like Papa, wanted her education to exceed theirs.

  “Well, actually, I could use your opinion on something—that is, if you have time,” SaVoy said slowly, walking down the narrow hallway to her bedroom. Vanessa followed her into the room and closed the door.

  SaVoy sat on the edge of her bed, gazed up at Vanessa, and said, “Remember when you told me I could have sex and remain a virgin?”

  Vanessa swiveled the computer chair around. “And so that’s what you want to know so early in the morning?” Vanessa sat, then propped her long legs across the bed, dangling Papa’s house slippers over the side.

  “Yeah, I do. ’Cause there’s this guy I like. A lot. But he doesn’t know that I like him. But every time I’m around him, I get butterflies. I get nervous and excited at the same time. Sometimes I want to kiss him. And even though I’ve never had sex, something inside me wants to have sex with him. I’ve prayed those feelings would go away, but they haven’t. I mean, I’ve had feelings of attraction before. But I’ve never felt, you know, like this.”

  Vanessa sat beside SaVoy and said, “Well, I know you have to get to class but, here’s what you should think about. Have a sexual relationship with yourself, first.”

  SaVoy shook her head and frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “Just listen to me, SaVoy. How long have you known this guy?”

  “Seventeen months.”

  “That’s good. So you know his people? Family? Friends?”

  “Just one of his friends, but mainly I know Tyronne because he delivers beverages to the store.”

  “Okay.” Vanessa nodded. “That’s a start. But you need to ask him questions about his family and his upbringing. You learn a lot about a person when you know who they really are.”

  How could SaVoy ask Tyronne personal questions without having him ask questions about her mother?

  “Now, back to your hormones. Get to know your body. And one way you can do that is through experimenting with masturbation. Then on your first sexual encounter with your partner, explore his body, with the lights on, and allow him to do the same with yours. Make certain he has excellent hygiene. No penetration. Wait to have intercourse because the first time is painful. Actually, honey, the first few times might be painful. Take it slow.” Then Vanessa emphatically said, “And no matter how experienced he is, make him wear a condom.”

  Masturbation? Before intercourse? SaVoy wanted and needed to know how and why but she didn’t want to interrupt Vanessa so she’d ask for details later.

  “Look, honey, boys are taught at an early age that masturbation is acceptable. For them, looking at naked women in Playboy, Hustler, and Penthouse magazines is normal. But most women never talk to or teach young girls that masturbation is safe. One, you can’t contract any diseases. Two, it’s safe because you definitely won’t get pregnant. And three, it’s necessary because you need to learn your body before sharing yourself with someone else.”

  SaVoy appreciated how Vanessa took time explaining sex. Vanessa’s casual approach and honesty helped to lighten the subject. For a moment, SaVoy thought about Tyronne. And how Tyronne brightened her day and brought a smile to her face without speaking a word.

  Vanessa said, “You know, my niece is graduating from high school this year. Well, she has X-rated magazines but she doesn’t have to hide them. She has male and female condoms and she knows how to use them properly. And I told her, like I’m telling you: always carry your own condoms and you”—Vanessa pointed at SaVoy—“always check the expiration date before opening the condom. And even though my niece hasn’t had intercourse, she knows a lot more about sex than her peers. Now that she’s no longer curious about what an orgasm feels like, she’s confident and in no rush to lose her virginity. And she has no problem telling guys no.

  “If you don’t remember anything else I’ve said, SaVoy, never forget that abstinence is abnormal. You are supposed to have desires. Honey, the laws of nature dictate reproduction in every living organism and you are no exception. I just want you to make healthy choices.”

  SaVoy glanced at the clock on her wall. She could wait another twenty minutes but then she had to leave or she’d be late for class. SaVoy wished she didn’t have to go to class today because she was learning so much from Vanessa.

  Vanessa threw her head back in laughter and said, “Don’t wear out your clit fingers.” She held up her middle fingers, rotated them in the air, and said, “You know why these are called clit fingers?”

  SaVoy shook her head and stared at Vanessa.

  “Honey, because they’re the longest! Nobody masturbates with a pinky . . . unless it’s a dick in disguise.” Vanessa tossed her head back again, then patt
ed SaVoy’s leg. “Honey, a dick the size of a pinky can only be used for masturbation but if you know how to masturbate, you can love that man and wear his dick out! Once you learn your body, you’ll know there’s no such thing as a dick that’s too big or too small. But I must admit, a big dick is a beautiful thing because it can hit the G spot and the clit at the same time. Now the smaller dick, let it focus on the clit and you work your own G spot from the inside. Vanessa will explain that one to you later. You just need to learn how to get your orgasm on because believe me, he will get his, with or without you.”

  Vanessa unbuttoned her blouse, stood in front of SaVoy, and unfastened her bra. Vanessa breasts were firm and plump. Her erect nipples were a much darker shade of chocolate than the rest of her body.

  SaVoy frowned, then looked away.

  “Honey, you’d better pay attention ’cause Vanessa’s only going to show you this once.”

  SaVoy hesitantly watched Vanessa.

  “When you take a shower you probably wash your breasts without thinking about them.”

  SaVoy remained silent but agreed and continued to listen.

  “Next time you wash your breasts, hold them in your hands. Squeeze them. Stroke them. Pinch your nipples. Your nipples are loaded with nerve endings. Never let a man make love to you without caressing your breasts. And once a month check them like this.” Vanessa placed her left hand behind her right shoulder. Her elbow pointed toward the ceiling. Then she moved her three middle fingers in small circular motions. Massaging around her breast, Vanessa started at the outermost part and worked her way in a slow spiral pattern and stopped at the nipple.

  “Once you learn your body, you’ll know when something doesn’t feel right. Honey, you need to do this the rest of your life but only once a month. Doctors suggest right after your period but, baby, you may not have a period every month so I say pick the same date as your birthday and examine yourself.”