The Best Possible Angle

by Lloyd Johnson

  “Eat your Panini.”

  “You’re not even going to consider it?”

  “I didn’t say that. We can talk about this back at the house.”

  Brenda did a double take. “I don’t remember being invited.”

  “Eat your Panini,” Kendrick said again, this time with a wink.

  Brenda had no idea how she could allow herself to be enticed back to Kendrick Black’s house. Sure, she had dreamed about the sexy actor ever since he showed up at her office five years before requesting representation. She had a mental rolodex of fantasies, and two worn out vibrators to show for it. Now, here she was, in Kendrick’s personal space, clearly because he wanted her there.

  “Are you going to give me a tour?” Brenda asked, accepting a glass of blush from her host.

  Kendrick poured a glass for himself. “You really want me to show you around this place?”

  “Why not?” Brenda asked, then sipped.

  Her eyes lit up after the first taste, though Kendrick guessed that any alcohol would have gotten the same reaction.

  Kendrick led Brenda through the modern-style house, decked out in warm neutral colors and a lot of glass. Brenda noticed they were passing through much of the house without explanation, though it was obvious to her what the living and dining rooms were.

  Brenda followed to the bedroom, where Kendrick moved into the middle of the room. He stopped and inhaled deeply, then exhaled, proud of the room’s serenity as light brown and white window sheers danced against the breeze coming through an open window.

  Brenda remained at the tip of the doorway. Poking her head in she asked, “What’s in there?”

  “It’s called a bedroom.”

  Brenda gave a playful side-eye. “I know that. I mean, why are you showing me your bedroom?”

  “Because you know how people say their homes are their sanctuary? My bedroom is mine.”

  Brenda stepped into the beautiful room. White orchids adorned both end tables by the bed, and dresser, along with jasmine-scented candles. Oversized, but tasteful mirrors were strategically placed throughout the room. A giant painting of a 1970s black, afro’d couple making love hung just above the bed—a housewarming gift from Lenox.

  Brenda admired the touches. She was intrigued by the window view that expanded beyond the infinity pool.

  “I’m a sucker for a decent view, but this is ridiculous,” she said in awe.

  Kendrick came up behind her, placed his large hands on both her arms and squeezed. “I’m glad you like it.” He spun her around to face him. “And this view?”

  “Come on, Kenny.” she stepped back and nervously sipped wine.

  “Is there something between us, or am I making this up in my head?”

  “What do you think?”

  Kendrick took the wine glass from her, and placed it on the dresser.

  “That’s going to stain.”

  “I don’t care. Answer my question.”

  Brenda’s whole being stirred. It was a guarded stirring. She knew sleeping with Kendrick would lead to a deepening of her feelings, and after Kendrick gave her gratitude sex, he would ultimately pick someone thinner and prettier for his image. She did not want to experience that kind of hurt.

  “We shouldn’t do this,” she heard herself say. Though, she was unsure she meant it.

  “You kissed me, remember?” Kendrick proudly threw that fact back in her face.

  “So?”

  “So, you told me if I clean up my mess there was more where it came from.”

  “And that was a mistake.” Brenda was exposed and vulnerable. Yet, a part of her wanted to share that vulnerability with him.

  “Is this a mistake?” Kendrick held her face as he kissed her. The kiss was full of many things. It conveyed gratitude, lust and hope, and was as overpowering as it was tender.

  Brenda’s legs were like mush. Kendrick grabbed her, saving her from a tumble. Taking her by the hand, he guided her to the bed. He possessed a confidence in how he led the way, like he intended for her body to know immense pleasure that afternoon. Brenda guessed that Kendrick enjoyed taking his time, or at least making it appear to last forever.

  He snatched the straps of her dress. She bashfully pulled back.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Ain’t found a diet plan that works yet.”

  Kendrick kissed her left brow bone. “You’re beautiful,” he said, still in whisper.

  He reached again for the strap. This time Brenda did not resist, but the look on her face as she turned away was of shame. Kendrick put his index finger to her chin to meet her gaze. He kissed her again, twirling his tongue with hers. Then he worked his tongue to her neck, where her fragrance was strongest. He inhaled her scent, offering delicate bites to her ear and neck, which melted into smaller kisses along her shoulders.

  Brenda’s dress tugged away from her. She kept her eyes closed, imagining his grimace at the sight of rolls and dimpled flesh. No man who looked as good as Kendrick Black would settle for what she offered unless he suffered from low self-esteem, right?

  Brenda opened her eyes to see Kendrick move away. He removed his clothes. The look in his eyes was serious and committed. It said that no amount of cellulite scared him away. Brenda watched his pants drop to the floor, witnessing what lie beneath his grey boxer briefs had the makings of something special.

  Brenda was transfixed. His skin’s sheen was luminous in the natural light. Brenda began to salivate, watching him slide the boxer briefs down to reveal the most beautiful penis she had ever seen. It was the perfect size, wagging with a firm bounce from side to side. Kendrick gently inched Brenda further back on the bed, which creaked as the mattress gave into her weight. Shame flooded her face. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

  Kendrick climbed onto the bed and crawled toward her like a Chippendales dancer. “It’s okay. Will you please relax?”

  Brenda squirmed, her dress pulled up to just over her breasts. Why did I have to kiss him? she asked herself, as Kendrick pulled her dress over her head. Tossing it aside, he maneuvered about her. He kissed and licked as her body’s response guided him to her sexual core which erupted with anticipation as he made every inch of her feel like perfection.

  The thought of Kendrick making love to Sabathany in this very room, in this bed, came to Brenda ’s mind. She bolted up. “Wait a minute…wait just one minute! When’s the last time you slept with her in this bed?” She wanted to know.

  A kneeling Kendrick was perplexed. “The day you picked me up from the airport.”

  Brenda killed the mood with her questions. “And you think I’m gonna let you stick that into me in the same bed you sleep with her?”

  “But I’m not sleeping with her anymore. And there are a lot of other things we can do that don’t involve penetration…hot things,” Kendrick said, glancing down at his still bouncing erection. “To tell you the truth, I’d rather wait on the intercourse until after all the Sabathany drama is behind us. Then it can mean something.”

  “Well, then, we can stop this now because you’re never going to get this behind you if you plan on marrying her.”

  “On paper, yes. But we would live separate lives.”

  “And you’d be fine with that?”

  Hearing himself say it out loud made him unsure. “Yes… I mean… I guess…I mean…I don’t know.”

  Brenda laughed. “Didn’t you think this through?”

  “I’m just trying to keep her quiet. If I marry her I can keep my eye on her.”

  Brenda thought for two beats. “Okay, what if there was a way that you could keep her quiet without having to marry her.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “I told you I received two phone calls this morning. The second was my dumb eighteen-year-old nephew, Jook.”

  “What did he want?”

  “He asked me to get him the best attorney I can find. He killed someone.”

  “Aww, man! I’m sorry to hear that.”

&nb
sp; “Yeah, well, I’m not surprised. Everybody in my family knows that Jook was never going to amount to anything. The reason I’m telling you is because I know the name Lola Morris means something to you.”

  “Yeah, that’s…I mean…that was Sabathany’s mother.” His tone was not sad; it was more matter-of-fact.

  “Jook killed her.”

  “What?”

  “Jook said Sabathany hired the hit.”

  Kendrick’s jaw dropped.

  “You know what this means, don’t you? Sabathany has in effect been neutralized. That paper you had her sign is null and void.”

  “Is Jook going to name her?” Kendrick cracked a smile.

  Brenda sighed. “Yeah, he thinks by naming her he’ll get some sort of deal. Even I know that’s not going to happen.”

  Although Brenda lay there next to him, Kendrick reflected about the last year and a half. Had there been clues that Sabathany was capable of such evil? Had he chosen to ignore them?

  “Look on the bright side,” Brenda said, bringing Kendrick’s attention back to the conversation. “You don’t owe her anything.”

  “You’re right. Sure is a shame, though. I wasn’t a fan of Lola’s, but she didn’t deserve that.”

  “Yeah, I know. Especially not for a measly two hundred bucks.”

  “Two hundred bucks? That’s how much a life is worth nowadays?”

  “Apparently. Jook told me that Sabathany had been sitting outside her mother’s house, watching the comings and goings. My nephew sold drugs to Lola, and so he was supposed to make up some excuse about how she owed him money. Sabathany was going to give Lola the two hundred, and Jook was supposed to kill her anyway for not having the right amount, when all along the two hundred was the right amount. Lola basically handed her killer the fee to end her life.”

  Kendrick dropped his head. “That’s foul. Now I know why she didn’t tell me when Lola died.”

  “Yes, but the good news is, you don’t have to go through with that ridiculous plan to marry her.”

  “I guess not. But now what?”

  “I don’t know. You know her better than I do. Do you think she’ll leave you alone now that you got dirt on her?”

  “I think so. Still, with her it’s best to be prepared for anything.”

  A conspiratorial twinkle entered Brenda’s eyes. “Well, you know, I could just call a source I have over in Compton and have the situation dealt with for you if it’s all that.”

  “Oh, God no! That’s the last thing I need. I’ll figure something out before she gets back.” He kissed Brenda on the forehead.

  Brenda gladly received the kiss, followed by a kiss on the lips. She could not wait to savor this man and if he was willing, have him all to herself. As far as Kendrick’s lack of action plan in dealing with Sabathany Morris, she was less sure.

  TWENTY-TWO

  The drive to the penthouse to meet with Sabathany allowed Lenox alone time to think. There was still a part of him that wanted Paris to have the happiness she longed for, but he was not cut out to be a part of her life. He had no interest in being judged from any direction, or for any reason. After making the decision not to engage her, the text messages and voicemail piled up. He promised himself he would ignore her, but his curiosity and the bothersome chirping of his phone got the better of him. Lenox pulled over to the side of the road and scrolled through his phone. Bracing himself for what he was about to read and hear, he could only imagine what await him.

  The immediate response to the last text he sent her the night she showed up at his house said:

  “That’s an all-time low. All I wanted was to know why you left me, and you’re gonna sit there and threaten me? Do you really think you ought to be doing that?”

  Then the next:

  “I’m sorry. That was completely uncalled for. I already know I shouldn’t have come by your house. I wasn’t going to say anything. Just wanted to see you. I miss you.”

  Lenox scrolled down a little further until…

  “Okay, this doesn’t make any kind of sense. I figured I would compromise and not call you directly, but hoped you’d at least be decent and answer my texts. You need to start answering the damn texts!”

  And…

  “I think you’re trying to make a fool of me. If you don’t want me to walk away with that impression, then I advise you to text me back.”

  Lenox almost dropped the phone from the chill creeping through his hands. Thankfully, it was the last of the texts. He needed to hear her voice. With dread, he dialed the voicemail. There were fifty-four messages.

  Message one:

  “You know what? I’m done trying to be civil about this. Because the truth is I can’t be civil with a clown. You act like you can just walk into my life, use my body all up, and then keep it moving without having to answer for yourself. You’re wrong if you think that. You need to call me so we can talk about this, and see where we’re gonna go from here. Bye.”

  Message two:

  “You’re fucking worthless; you know that? A real man owns what he did… good or bad. See, you think that you get to do your dirt, then go hide. But you can’t hide. You better call me. That’s not a request.”

  Message three:

  “You’re all that matters to me! What don’t you understand about that? And it really makes me sick because I hate myself for loving you. You don’t deserve my love. You can’t even love yourself!”

  And on and on it continued, most of which brought a sickened feeling to Lenox’s stomach.

  “What the hell did I get myself into?” he pondered aloud. Many of the messages were non-sequitur frantic ramblings. One minute she professed love and understanding of what he must have been going through, and called into question his manhood and integrity the next.

  And as Lenox listened, his pity for her rivaled the anger in his heart.

  “I should just call her and get it over with,” he said, putting on the earpiece and dialing Paris’s number, before pulling back into traffic.

  Paris answered on the third ring. Her voice sounded like a creaking door. “Yeesss?”

  “All right, you got my attention. Now, talk,” he said with a calm command while focusing on the road.

  “It’s a shame I gotta act a damn fool to get your attention.”

  “I don’t have a lot of time, Paris. Say what you gotta say.”

  “How have you been?”

  Lenox sighed his exasperation. “I’ve been good. And you?”

  “Like you even care.”

  “Look, you wanted me to call you, I called you. What do you want?”

  “You mean you still don’t know?”

  “Should I?”

  “You were always the selfish one. Even the way you make love is selfish. And the sad thing is, you still think it’s all about you. You think you can do whatever it is you feel like doing and not have to answer for it.”

  “I’m about to hang up.”

  “I wanna know why you didn’t bother to say goodbye! You told me you needed me to know how you felt about me. Was walking out the door your way of telling me?”

  “You can’t understand what this has been like for me, Paris. Okay, I’m an asshole for leaving, and I’m sorry I didn’t return your calls, but I got a family to think about. Playtime is over with.”

  “Playtime? That’s what I am to you?”

  Lenox bit down hard on his lip, regretting his words. By diminishing her role in his life, he knew he had just prolonged a conversation he was uninterested in having.

  “Is that all I am to you?” Paris asked again.

  Lenox said nothing. Instead, Paris heard the ambient noise of honking cars.

  “Okay, well, since you obviously care nothing about me, I see no reason to go on caring about you,” she said.

  “You’re a grown-ass woman, remember? Go do what you gotta do.”

  “Oh really? Is that really what you want?”

  “Look, all I’m saying is that you’re more tha
n welcome to feel any which way you wanna feel…”

  Paris cut in. “I’m glad you feel that way, because I’ll be telling your wife everything.”

  Mildly amused, Lenox said, “You tried that already.”

  “Oh, I’m not done. I’m planning on telling the cops what I know about your involvement with Kenny killing that little girl.”

  Amusement changed to seriousness. “If you rat on me, then you’ll be giving up your brother, too. You wanna do that?”

  “Seems like a fair trade. Kenny turned his back on me, so I don’t feel I owe him a damn thing. As for you, what makes you think you get to go back to playing the family man? You don’t. Frankly, I’d rather see you behind bars.”

  “You really should keep your nose out of things that don’t concern you.”

  “It concerned me the moment Kenny told me everything. I especially like the part where you insisted on getting rid of the car. Pretty damn clever if you ask me.”

  Lenox paused, his heart thumping. “Paris, I mean it. Don’t give me a reason to come over there and put my hands on you, okay?”

  “You said it yourself, playtime is over with.” Paris hung up.

  “Aww shit!” Lenox screamed, shaking the steering wheel, while trying not to swerve off the road. Pulling up to the red light, his mood was shot. However, he still had a job to do. He would worry about Paris later.

  At 5:00PM the elevator doors opened into the penthouse.

  “Well, well. You get a gold star for being on time,” Sabathany said, dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a tight fitting pink sweater. Her hair swept to one side.

  The two had not hit it off the first few times they interacted. Despite thinking she was just one more user with a vagina Kendrick had grown fond of, Lenox opted to keep the tone of the conversation professional. Maybe if she saw him less as a threat and more like someone with a job to do, the meeting would move smoothly. Extending his hand, he said, “Sabathany, good to see you again.”

  She looked haughtily at him, shaming his politeness. Her tortoise shell, thin-framed glasses accentuated the arrogance in her eyes. “Come in.”