Jaded

by Rhonda Sheree

  The crowd had been mixed in age, but mostly young. The women had worn dresses tight enough to induce fainting. Men had flashed eager smiles. A few had reeked of cologne. After Jade and Lydia had downed their second round of shots, they had made their way downstairs to the dance floor. The music and energy of the crowd had enveloped them. Jade’s inhibitions had been left at the bar. She had shimmied onto the dance floor and spent the next three hours lost in a world free of money-making schemes and suspicious husbands. They had danced until they were breathless. Fatigued, they had drifted upstairs to the Middle Eastern–inspired lounge. Jade had tipped a manager two hundred bucks to boot a couple off the couch they’d reserved. She and Lydia had sipped chocolate martinis and chatted until Lydia had begun to yawn. Jade had so rarely had this kind of fun that she hated to see the night end. But her body had also been calling out for a soft bed with cool sheets.

  The evening had ended close to three. They had supported each other as they had made their way to Jade’s suite, giggling and singing the entire way. They had crashed on Jade’s bed, neither of them fit enough to even pull back the sheets and climb beneath the covers. They had slept in a thick slumber until half past noon. After a quick breakfast, Lydia had insisted that Jade come to her shop so she could do her hair.

  “It’s Sunday,” she’d said. “No one will be there but us.”

  “I wear my wig all the time. I don’t need to get my hair done.”

  “Because you wear your wig all the time is exactly why you need to get your hair done. I could just shoot Beyoncé for making those lace front wigs so popular. Women have stopped minding their own hair.”

  “Actually, I got the idea from RuPaul, not Beyoncé.”

  Lydia had smirked. “I see the resemblance.”

  It had been easier to go with Lydia’s flow than to swim against it. After a quick breakfast, they had taken a cab to Lydia’s spot in Brooklyn.

  As Jade waited in the chair, she gazed around the salon. It wasn’t as upscale as Jade was accustomed to, but it certainly wasn’t a shack in the ‘hood, either. She liked the neutral tones and African decor. Instead of a place of business, the salon felt like an extension of what Jade imagined Lydia’s home would look like. Overstuffed brown leather sofas for waiting customers and paintings of Barack and Oprah decorated the salon. It was impressive, especially for a woman who’d done it all on her own.

  “I’m back. What were you hollering so?”

  “I was just saying I can’t believe I let you talk me into this. What are we doing?”

  “Color. I’ve got a great color in mind for you.”

  “I thought you were giving me a relaxer.” Jade ran her hands through her hair, crinkled from being braided beneath her wig.

  “Can’t do both today and I think a nice color and chop will really set your cheekbones off.”

  “Chop?”

  “If you don’t like it, you can always just slap that wig back on. Besides, you’ve got a nice grade. You don’t really need a relaxer.”

  Jade leaned back to let her hair hang in the washbowl.

  “Damn,” she exclaimed as her hands blindly felt around in her purse.

  “What is it?”

  “I left my cell back in the hotel.”

  “You don’t need it. You’re on vacation. I wish you had your tools with you. Sure would like to have you give me a makeover, too.”

  “Rain check. I promise.”

  Jade meant it. She wanted to see Lydia again. All the years she’d been busy being a wife to Rodney, she’d never made friends. Women didn’t gravitate toward her naturally. She didn’t know why.

  “So tell me something,” Lydia said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Why is it that a woman like you don’t have kids yet? All that money you and Rodney have. Why not do some good with it and raise a child?”

  “Kids are invisible to us. At least to me. I never had a desire. Rodney never wanted them, either. It’s one of the things that makes us so compatible, I guess.”

  “Your whole life changes when you have a child.”

  “I know. And it just so happens I like my life.”

  Lydia’s hands felt good lathering the thick shampoo in her hair. Lydia ran her fingertips across Jade’s scalp so vigorously that Jade shivered at the intense massage. She felt an ease she hadn’t felt in years.

  “I like my life with the exception of-“ Was she really going to confide in Lydia? “We’re breaking up.”

  Lydia’s hands stopped for a second, then resumed.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Funny thing is, I’m not exactly sure why. Guess we just grew apart.”

  “If it’s worth fighting for it, then fight. If it ain’t, let it go. The challenge is understanding what’s worth it and what isn’t.”

  “I’ll end up broke.”

  “Broke isn’t dead.”

  “It is when you’ve lived like I have.”

  Lydia laughed. “You might have a point.”

  “It scares me.”

  Lydia sprayed cool water on her head, rinsing out the lather. “My middle son, Jason. Man, we had a heckuva time trying to teach him to swim. I’d go with him every Saturday to the Y and the instructor used three lessons just to make him feel comfortable enough to put his entire head under water. Three lessons! Then one day, he was practicing in the water, and he must have been enjoying himself because he was floating on his back from end to end. The short end, y’know what I mean?”

  Jade nodded.

  “And then he just flipped himself over, head deep in the water, breathing like a fish, not moving his arms, but paddling his legs like a pro and blowing the most beautiful bubbles you’ve ever seen.”

  “So now he knows how to swim?”

  “He’s on the swim team.” Lydia smoothed a conditioner onto Jade’s hair.

  “That’s cool. He conquered his fear.”

  “He didn’t just conquer it. He put his whole head into it. He looked it in its eyes, steadied his nerves, and blew big fat bubbles in its face.”

  “I get it,” Jade said. “But having a complete change of lifestyle is a little more challenging than learning how to swim.”

  “Two months after that day, Jason and a couple of his friends were monkeying around the community pool. Jason slipped into the deep end.”

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing. Because he knew how to swim. But if he hadn’t blown bubbles in the face of his fear, my boy could’ve drowned.” Lydia put her hands on her hips and looked Jade in the eyes. “I think dying, literally, is a little more dire than anything you’ve got looming.”

  “Okay,” Jade said, feeling mildly chastised. “Got it. I’ll have to remember that in the face of fear I need to blow bubbles.”

  “And steady your nerves. That’s important, too.”

  Lydia snapped a plastic cap on Jade’s head.

  “Any suggestions for dealing with nerves?”

  “Meditation?”

  Jade looked up in surprise.

  “You meditate?”

  “No, baby. I drink tequila. But for you, my little amuse-bouche–eating, Birkin bag–carrying, M.A.C. Pro–wearing, Lincoln Town Car–chauffeured queen, I’d guess meditation would be more up your alley.”

  At first Jade chuckled, then she released a laugh so hearty she clasped Lydia’s hand to keep her balance. A tear slipped from her eye and a cramp threatened the left side of her stomach. But she didn’t care.

  For the first time in a long while, Jade felt as if she were floating, with the sun warming her face and water cooling her back.

  ***

  Chapter 33

  At the outset, the move seemed as if it would be a short one. But navigating the three flights of stairs while carrying a bed, dresser, and boxes proved to be all the exercise Syeesha needed to get a body full of aches. She got back to the penthouse in the early evening and took a quick shower. She had no plans of going back out so she rummaged through her
drawer for her pink Hello Kitty pajamas.

  “Dang.”

  The pajamas were stuffed in a box in her storage unit. She’d forgotten to bring the box of clothes with her. When she’d originally brought over a suitcase of clothes to wear, she’d packed so quickly she’d forgotten her pj’s. And now she’d forgotten again.

  She fought the idea that the gods wanted her to never wear her favorite pj’s again. Syeesha slipped on the silk nightdress Jade had bought for her. Although she was glad it reached her ankles, Syeesha could’ve done without the slit that went up to her thigh and all the lacey bits. She looked around for the matching robe, but couldn’t find it. Didn’t matter. No staff was working today and she hadn’t seen Rodney since she’d been home. He kept an erratic schedule, which suited her fine.

  Syeesha grabbed her laptop and cell phone before heading to the kitchen in bare feet. She wolfed down a salad, then settled into a quiet nook in the den with peppermint tea. Syeesha played with her latest manuscript until her flow was interrupted by thoughts of Christian.

  God, I miss him.

  All her efforts to connect with Christian had been wasted. He had rebuffed her every time, never once returning a phone call or e-mail. Maybe her life was better without him. She had to move on.

  Syeesha picked up her cell and dialed her sister.

  Voice mail.

  “Hey, it’s me. Just checking to make sure you made it back from Mexico okay. Give me a buzz when you get a chance.”

  She drank her tea and wrote until she heard the soft squeak of the front door closing.

  Please, keep going.

  Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.

  Please don’t come in here.

  Already she’d made an ass of herself twice in front of the man she had no chance of seducing. As far as Syeesha was concerned, she was going to ride out living in Jade and Rodney’s house and collecting a paycheck until Jade wised up and booted her out. Right now, she just wanted this long weekend to end. Anything, but to be left alone with him.

  “Syeesha?” Rodney asked from the doorway. “What are you doing sitting in the dark?”

  “I have some light over here,” she said dismissively, pointing at the lamp beside her. She kept her eyes on her keyboard.

  She felt him ease into the room, like a lion observing a rabbit in the distance.

  Syeesha cursed herself for not finding her robe. Without moving her head, her eyes peeked down at her chest. Yep, her rack was on full display.

  “You look nice.”

  “Thanks,” she replied. She closed her laptop. “I was just headed to my room.”

  “I hope you’re not leaving because of me.”

  Finally, she looked at him. He was dressed in his golf getup. Polo shirt, long shorts and socks, golf shoes. And a stupid little pageboy hat on his head that should’ve made him look ridiculous, but didn’t. He looked as attractive as he’d always looked.

  “I’ve got things to work on and need to be alone.”

  She made sure to create a wide berth as she passed him. Didn’t matter, though. He reached out and caught her wrist.

  “Hey. What’s the rush? Give me a few minutes to shower, change out of these clothes, and maybe we can do something together.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  It wasn’t until after she’d said the words that she caught the double entendre.

  Rodney looked at her with an intensity that chilled her. His gaze drifted down to her lips, then to her breasts, which heaved beneath the low-cut silk like waves in an ocean. He turned to completely face her. Slowly, Rodney licked his lips. He reached out his hand tentatively and touched her quivering bottom lip with his thumb.

  “Syeesha . . .”

  She saw the unmistakable desire in his eyes. He leaned down to kiss her. Her body braced.

  The house phone rang, breaking the moment.

  Syeesha let out a huge sigh of relief. She rushed to the nearest phone.

  “Yeah?”

  “Mrs. McCann?”

  “What is it?” she asked. Syeesha didn’t see any sense in correcting him since she was—at the moment anyway—the lady of the house.

  “We have someone here who says they’d like to visit with a Syeesha Green. I believe she’s residing in your suite.”

  “Okay, yeah. Who is it?”

  “I’ve checked his I.D., Mrs. McCann. His name is Christian Chambers.”

  ***

  Chapter 34

  Syeesha paced in the hallway. She was anxious to see him. What did he want? To apologize? Reconcile? Curse her out? Had she left something at his place? She hoped he wanted to get back together. Maybe together they could think of a way out of this mess she was in. Just now Rodney had come too close for comfort and she didn’t know how much more of this situation she could stand.

  The elevator dinged.

  Syeesha steadied her legs. Nevertheless, she almost dropped into a dead faint when she saw him. He’d grown a five o’clock shadow that made him look years older. In his hands were a dozen brilliant white roses.

  “I sure hope those are for me,” Syeesha said.

  He stood, taking in the sight of her. For a minute, Syeesha was afraid he was going to get back on the elevator. Christian looked confused. Then the tension in his face eased. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat. He cleared his throat, tried again.

  “You look beautiful.”

  “Why don’t you come down here and say that to my face?”

  Tentatively, he walked forward. When he got within an inch of her, he said, “I’ve missed you.”

  “Why didn’t you answer my messages?”

  “Because you’d broken my heart.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Prove it.”

  She grabbed his T-shirt and pulled him to her. Christian lowered the roses to close the distance between their bodies. For a glorious minute, they stood, tasting each other as though for the very first time.

  Neither wanted to pull away. But they needed to breathe.

  “I have so much I want to say to you,” he said.

  “You want to come in?”

  He shook his head.

  “You still disapprove,” she said. “And I don’t blame you. I’m ashamed of myself.”

  “My roommate is moving out in a few weeks. I was thinking. . . .”

  Christian looked over her shoulder. Syeesha turned to see what had captured his attention.

  Rodney.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  “I’m fine, Rodney.”

  She offered no introduction.

  Rodney saw the flowers in Christian’s hand. He pointed a finger at Christian.

  “Don’t you dare lay a finger on her again or I’ll bring the entire NYPD down on your fucking head.”

  “Man, what are you talking about?”

  “Please,” Syeesha said. “Rodney, you’ve got things all wrong. Now go.”

  He looked skeptical, but slowly went back inside. Syeesha didn’t move around until she saw the door fully close.

  Christian turned a sharp look toward her, as though he’d gleaned new information. He stepped back, looked at her from her tresses to her toes. She had been so anxious to see him she’d forgotten to throw on some decent clothes. The low-cut silk gown with the slit up the side seemed to repulse him. He shook his head and moved backward until he got to the elevator.

  “I’ve made a mistake by coming here.”

  “No, Christian. It’s not what you think.”

  “Isn’t that what you just told him?” He pushed the elevator call button. “Don’t explain anything to me.”

  “I have to. Christian, nothing happened.”

  He turned back to her and shot her a lethal gaze.

  “I’m sure it isn’t for the lack of you trying. Is that what you wore to bed over on Flatbush?”

  “You know, I’m getting a little sick of you judging me.”

  The elevator doors op
ened.

  “Well, luckily you won’t have to worry about that ever again. By the way . . .” He stepped onto the elevator. “These are for you.”

  Syeesha jumped back just as the roses landed at her feet.

  ***

  Chapter 35

  Syeesha left the roses where they fell and ran to the front door.

  It was locked.

  Great!

  Now there was no chance of slipping to her room and avoiding Rodney. She pounded on the thick wood. He would see the tears streaming down her face, but he’d never know that his wife was the real cause of them.

  Jade and her stupid money-grubbing ways.

  No, Syeesha thought. Even through her sobs, the voice of reason persisted. Syeesha was the cause of her own tears.

  Not Jade.

  Not Christian.

  No one but herself.

  The door was still locked. In anger, she slammed her palm against the wood, then cried even louder at the stinging pain that burned her hand.

  No one to blame but herself.

  Granted, Jade had threatened to accuse her of fraud. But Syeesha was smart enough to know that was an empty threat. Jade McCann wouldn’t risk Syeesha telling the truth about her scheme. Jade was the mastermind. But Syeesha couldn’t pretend she was the puppet. If anything, she was a coconspirator. After all, didn’t her nightgown prove it?

  “Open the door,” she yelled.

  The door swung open. Rodney had changed into a pair of jeans and polo shirt. She fell into his arms. Her face wet. Her heart hurting. He held her as she cried into his chest. She had no pride. No filter. No boundary. She was an open dam and a river of pain spilled forth.

  “Shh,” he consoled her. “Let it ride. He’ll be someone else’s problem now.”

  What was he talking about? She couldn’t just let it ride. She was more hurt at being so grossly misunderstood by Christian than of his leaving. Did Christian really think she would have slept with Rodney?

  Syeesha realized she was being naive.

  Hadn’t she considered going through with it at one point? And look at how she was dressed. What was Christian supposed to think?