by Glenn, Roy
Before Travis could say another word, Veronica disappeared into the bathroom. Travis shrugged and went in the kitchen to pour himself a glass of Henny. He’d noticed that there was a champagne bucket in the cabinet. He filled it with ice, got two glasses, and headed out the sliding door to the pool.
He dimmed the light around the pool and turned the water temperature up just a bit before he stepped in. He poured the champagne and sat patiently in the pool slipping Henny, waiting for Veronica to make her appearance.
Finally she appeared, still wearing that same white dress. Veronica came through the door and walked slowly toward the pool. “Did I take too long, Travis?” she asked as she let the dress drop to the ground. “I brought a bikini with me as you asked me to.” She stepped into the water. “And I had started to put it on, but I say, for what? So I can take it off in a few minutes?”
Travis handed her a glass of champagne and Veronica immediately poured it out across his chest. She slowly ran her tongue across his chest until she consumed every drop, all the while rubbing the bulge in his trunks. Travis leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Me’shelle’s image appeared in his mind’s eye. He heard Me’shelle say, Pleasure me, Travis.
Travis reached between Veronica’s legs and ran his hand through her hair as he fingered her clit. Veronica stood up and reached for the bottle. She poured herself a glass and took a sip. “This is very good champagne,” she said then put down her glass.
She walked to the middle of the pool as Travis watched. Then she smiled and went under the water, swimming toward him. Once she got to him, she pulled off his trunks before coming up for air.
Veronica stood in front of him, gliding her hand up and down his staff. Travis grabbed her hips and lost himself in her chest, licking and gently sucking her huge, dark nipples.
She reclaimed her glass, took another sip, and poured the rest on her chest for Travis to lick off. Veronica straddled Travis and eased herself down on his length. She rode Travis slowly while he continued to feast on her nipples. Travis began to feel her legs trembling on his thighs, and he pushed harder. Veronica bared down on him and increased her pace. She could feel that she was about to climax, and she wasn’t ready to. She reached out and touched his face with both hands and kissed him.
Veronica stood up and held out her hand. “Let’s go inside,” she said.
She led Travis out of the water and into the bedroom. She kneeled down on the edge of the bed.
“Damn, you have a pretty ass, Veronica,” Travis said, sliding his hands across it.
“Thank you, Travis.”
Travis placed his hands on her wide hips and entered Veronica slowly. No matter how hard he tried, he still couldn’t get the image of Me’shelle out of his mind. He was gliding in and out of her slowly. Veronica was very wet, and she had excellent control of her muscles.
Veronica rolled over, and Travis eased her on her back and entered her. He placed the weight of his body on his arms and Veronica arched her back, rotating her hips in perfect unison with him. Moving slowly, then fast, then slowly again. Her body began to quiver as she stretched out her legs, seeming to anticipate his movements. Their heartbeats quickened along with the pace, until their bodies shook and she screamed, “Oh, Travis!”
Chapter Seventeen
New York’s Kennedy Airport was as busy as it’s always been. Travis stood in the lobby looking out the window, wishing he had brought a heavier coat along when he left for Miami on Monday. He had called Me’shelle from Miami and told her that he would be arriving at 7:35 that evening. Me’shelle promised to be there to meet him in the baggage claim area. Now it was steadily approaching 9:00 and there was no sign of her.
Several times he’d considered calling Ronnie or Jackie to come get him, but he didn’t want to call them and have Me’shelle pull up right after he hung up the phone. Besides, it was only Me’shelle that he wanted to see. Travis checked his messages both at home and on his cell phone to see if Me’shelle had left a message, which she hadn’t.
After two hours of creeping along, traffic on the Van Wyck Express finally broke loose. This was one of the few times that Me’shelle regretted not having a cell phone. She knew that Travis was probably standing outside waiting for her to get there. Or maybe he had given up on her and called somebody else to pick him up, and was sitting at home that very minute. She drove just a little faster than she normally would in an attempt to get there that much quicker. Not that it would make much difference now. By the time she got there, she would be almost two hours late.
While she was stuck, creeping alone in gridlock traffic, she thought about the conversation she had with Travis the night before. She’d meant what she said about taking it slow with him. If that was the case, why did she agree to come to the airport to pick him up? He could have just as easily gotten somebody else to come for him. She understood why he would want her to; he was trying to get with her. But it was her own reasoning that momentarily escaped her. The answer was simple: she was tired of being alone, and she wanted to see him.
Me’shelle looked in the rear view mirror. So, you can talk that ‘take it slow with Travis’ shit all you want to, but you and I know what’s goin’ on. And that is where my soliloquy ends.
When she rolled up on the terminal at 9:30, Travis was walking toward the cabstand. What is he doing out here without a heavier coat? Me’shelle slammed on her brakes and jumped out of the car. “Travis!”
He turned around and saw her waving her arms wildly. He smiled a satisfied smiled and started walking quickly toward her car. Me’shelle opened up the trunk then quickly got back in the car. Knowing he’d be cold, she turned the heat up just a bit more.
Travis threw his bags in the trunk and took out the box he had for Me’shelle. He closed the trunk and got in the car. “Hello, Me’shelle,” said a very cold Travis.
“Well hello, mister island man.”
“Thanks for coming to get me, Me’shelle.”
“I’m sorry I’m so late. Traffic getting here was terrible. Major accident.”
“I thought you had forgotten about me or flat out changed your mind about coming to get me.”
“I wouldn’t do you like that. I’m a woman of my word,” Me’shelle answered as she drove off. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
“What do you have a taste for?”
Travis looked at Me’shelle. He wanted to say “You.”
“I was thinking about Italian,” he said.
“I know a place that has the best Italian food in the world,” Me’shelle said.
“Really? What’s it called?”
“Mario’s.”
“On Arthur Ave. I know the place, and yeah, the food is good there.”
Traffic on the way back to the Bronx was just as heavy as it was coming. The long ride gave them time to talk. Me’shelle asked about his trip, and Travis told her about everything he did in the Caymans. He did, however, leave out the part about Veronica in the pool the night before. Then Me’shelle asked Travis the inevitable question. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No,” was Travis’s simple and quick answer.
“Okay. Since I know how you men are, I’ll rephrase my question and ask it again.” Me’shelle smiled and Travis smiled back. “Are you currently having sex with anybody?”
Travis considered his answer before opening his mouth. “Currently, no,” was his answer. “What about you, Me’shelle? Are you dating somebody now?” he asked before she could get out the next question.
“No, Travis, I am not dating or having sex with anybody.”
“Why not?” Travis asked quickly.
“The last guy I was dating decided that we should see other people.”
“You mean he wanted to see other people.”
Me’shelle smiled. “Exactly.”
“Which is why you want to take your time with me. You want to make sure that I’m not the same kind of asshole.”
“You are so sm
art,” Me’shelle said. “Now, tell me what ‘currently no’ means. Oh, you didn’t think that I forgot that gem of an answer, did you?”
“No, Me’shelle, I know you’re too sharp to let one slip by you.”
“So, why’d you try it?”
“Just to see.”
“And the answer is?”
“I’m not currently having sex with anybody, because I decided to stop seeing the woman I was having sex with. I didn’t think it was going anywhere,” Travis answered.
“How come? Sex wasn’t good?”
“No, the sex was good, but that’s all there was. You know what I’m sayin’? I mean, we’d talk when it was necessary, but mostly we’d talk about having sex.”
“If that’s all there was, then why did you keep seeing her?”
“I don’t know if you know this about men, but we’ll go through a lot of things we normally wouldn’t for good sex.”
“You men are so shallow like that,” Me’shelle said and rolled her eyes.
“I guess you’re sayin’ that women aren’t like that?”
“No, that’s not what I’m sayin’. I know women who will jump though some flaming hoops for some good dick. Excuse my French. But not all of us are like that. If a woman has a good man and the sex ain’t that great, she’ll stay with him because he’s a good man.”
“But then she’ll creep on him with the guy with the good dick. Excuse my French.”
“Touché.”
It was after 11:00 by the time they reached the Whitestone Bridge. Since it was going to be too late for Mario’s, Travis asked Me’shelle to take him straight home. He’d pick up a couple of slices from a place around the way. Once they got to Travis’s house, he turned on some music.
“That’s what I missed the most while I was gone.”
“What’s that?”
“Jazz.”
“Who are we listening to?” Me’shelle asked with a bit of a frown on her face.
“Wes Montgomery,” Travis replied proudly as he sat down at the dining room table and prepared to eat his pizza.
“Never heard of him.”
“He’s on guitar. I take it you don’t really like jazz.”
“Some of it’s okay. I mean, like Kenny Gee, David Sanborn, stuff like that. But this is—I don’t know.”
“This is real music. Guys like Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Thelonious Monk, Horace Silver, these guys put their whole heart and soul into their music. Kenny Gee wishes he could play the sax like Coltrane.”
Me’shelle laughed. “If you say so. I guess I’d have to hear some.”
“Stick around and you will,” Travis said. “I almost forgot.” He went and got the small box out of his pocket. He returned to the table and handed the box to Me’shelle. “This is for you.”
Me’shelle looked at the box and knew it was jewelry. She opened the box. “Travis, it’s beautiful.” The necklace Travis bought her was platinum with a half-carat diamond. “Is this the little souvenir you said you were bringing me?”
“Yup,” Travis said with his mouth full of pizza. “Do you like it?”
“Yes, it’s beautiful. Thank you so much. How did you know I love platinum?”
“I didn’t. I just thought it would look beautiful on you.”
“When you said you were bringing me a souvenir, you know, I was expecting a T-shirt with some stupid sayin’ on it or a bag of sand or whatever.”
Travis got up, took the necklace from Me’shelle and put it on for her. “I was right. It does look beautiful on you.”
“I don’t think the words ‘you shouldn’t have’ are enough for this, Travis. How much did this cost?”
“A gentleman never tells.”
Chapter Eighteen
Early the next morning, Travis called Freeze. He wanted to find out what was going on before he spoke to Ronnie and Jackie. Freeze told Travis to met him at Cynt’s at 1:00. Since he wanted to talk to Freeze alone, he called Jackie and told her to meet him there at 2:00. Then he called Ronnie.
“What’s up, Ronnie?”
“It’s about time you came back to the real world. When did you get back?”
“Last night,” Travis said.
“How was the island?” Ronnie asked. Travis noted the cool tone.
“It was great. Weather was nice. I had a good time.”
“Did you meet Veronica?”
“Yeah, we hung out a couple nights. She was real cool.”
“Well, what does she look like?” Ronnie asked.
“Yo, she doesn’t look anything like she sounds. She’s a big, juicy, fine-ass muthafucka.”
“Really? So, I know you had a good time with her. I know you like them juicy. Which reminds me, your girl Mystique has been askin’ for you every time I go to Cynt’s. Said you don’t call her no more,” Ronnie said, trying to sound like a woman.
“What you tell her?”
“Not a damn thing,” Ronnie said and laughed. “She gets real funky when she don’t get what she wants, don’t she?”
“She sure does,” Travis replied and laughed.
“So, what’s up, Travis?”
“I know we need to talk and that you got a lot of questions.”
“I just asked the only question I got.”
“Then the answer is it’s all good. So, why don’t you meet me at Cynt’s at two? We’ll talk there. Cool?”
“Cool. If you say it’s all good, then that’s all I need to hear,” Ronnie said.
After Ronnie hung up, Travis called for a cab. In addition to going to Cynt’s, he had a few other things he needed to get done. Before anything else got done, Travis had to do the one thing that had been bothering him for the past week.
Travis stood in front of the grocery store looking for the camera that somehow he missed while he was planning the job. As discreetly as he could, he walked out into the parking lot, looking on top of the building for mounted cameras. There were none. They’re here somewhere. Travis thought back to the job itself and the brief piece of footage that he saw on television. He thought about the angle from which the footage was shot and where the camera had to be in order to get that shot. The lights.
Travis stopped at the spot where he had the correct angle and looked up at closest light pole. Then he walked back in front of the store and picked up the pay phone to call another cab. From that spot, almost exactly where the armored truck was parked, he could see them. They were small, built into the pole. With the morning sun shining, they almost looked like reflectors, but now he was sure that they had to be cameras. They were perfectly positioned to get an excellent shot of everybody exiting the store.
When his cab arrived, Travis got in and headed for Cynt’s. Easy to miss, but you should have seen them anyway.
Freeze had arrived at Cynt’s early and was there, waiting for Travis when Wanda came in.
“What brings you up here so early in the day, Freeze?” Wanda asked and sat down next to him.
“I was just about to ask you that,” Freeze replied.
“Cynt asked me to stop by to discuss a legal problem she’s having.”
“What problem she havin’?”
“Calm down, Freeze. She said it was a personal problem. If it’s something that you need to know about, I’ll tell you. So, what are you doing here?”
“I got to meet somebody here at one. And I had to bring some money up here so they could open the tables.”
“Why?”
“It was a weird night in the NBA. A lot of upsets,” Freeze said then pushed the newspaper in front of Wanda.
“Knicks beat the Lakers, huh?”
“Yeah, that’s the one that broke us. Everybody made that sentimental bet on the Knicks to win.”
“Shit happens,” Wanda said. “We aren’t that bad off, are we?”
“Nothing we can’t handle, but we need to bust ’em on down at football this weekend or everybody’s envelope gonna be a little light this week.”
“That’s how
it goes,” Wanda said. “Who are you meeting with?”
“Travis Burns.”
Wanda rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth. “The wannabe robber.”
“No, baby, my nigga’s the real thing.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I didn’t notice you complainin’ or callin’ him no wannabe when he personally made your envelope a little fatter. My nigga is smart; he’s organized, he’s disciplined, he’s got his crew under control. They execute their jobs like clockwork, and he’s a good earner. So, tell me the truth, Wanda, why don’t you like him?”
“Think about what you just said: smart, organized, disciplined, in control. He reminds me too much of Mike Black.”
Freeze thought about it for a second. “Now that you mention it, he damn sure does.”
When Travis arrived at Cynt’s a little early, he was surprised to see that Freeze was already waiting for him. He expected Freeze to keep him waiting like he usually did. Wanda saw Travis coming toward the table. “Here comes your nigga,” she said mockingly. “I’ll leave you two to talk.” Wanda got up from the table and headed for the stairs to the offices for her meeting with Cynt. She passed Travis on the way. Travis smiled as men did when they saw Wanda walking toward them.
“Hello Travis,” she said and kept walking.
“Hello, Wanda,” Travis said nervously. What’s up with that? Wanda never speaks to me.
Travis sat down at the table with Freeze. “So, what’s the word?”
“The word is good. I got it on good information that the cops don’t have a clue on who ran that job at the grocery store. They assume that the same people that ran that job ran the jewelry store job, but they got no leads on either case. I know there was some concern about the video surveillance of the parking lot, but they gone over it a bunch of times and they remain clueless. But that’s a cop’s nature.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Don’t you know? I know everything,” Freeze said flatly. “But in this particular case, I know a little cutie that’s bangin’ the lead detective on the case. He tells her everything and then she tells me. That pillow talk is a muthafucka.” Freeze laughed. “But I still think you should chill for a while.” He stood up.
