Georgia On My Mind

by Stokes Lee, Brenda

  Peaches hangs up the phone and rejoins the team of vendors she had assembled to bring her design to life. As she goes over the design sketches Miracle's limo arrives. Excusing herself again she waited for them in the grand foyer.

  Chase entered the mansion immediately and Miracle lingered in the limo on the phone. “I see you finished your sketches.” She remarked as she caught a glimpse of the design plan posted on the large display board.

  “Yes. I got your email. Sista you made my life a hell of a lot easier. Thanks so much for the photos. They were perfect.”

  “Oh great. I’m glad I could help. How did it go last night? So, let me see the bling.” She asked as the natural light hit the diamond ring on Peaches’ finger.

  “Girl, this isn’t mine. Well it is but… Look, that's another story for another time. I'll have to tell you about it later.”

  “No, Peaches. What happened?”

  Peaches laughed. “All I can say is drama, trauma and karma, baby.”

  “Damn, man trouble must be contagious! Miracle's out in the limo ticking the hell off on Big Daddy!”

  “I thought he just got in town. What happened?”

  “Don't say anything to Miracle, but apparently he hooked up with an old flame and spent the night out last night. This is after he had the audacity to pull a no show on the goddess. Needless to say she is livid.”

  “Oh, hell no! These niggas are losing their damn minds. So, I guess Big Daddy is history?”

  “Hell no! This man's money is as long as his dick. Miracle ain't going no damn where without a fight!”

  “Damn a big dick and a big bank account? That's a hard man to replace.” Peaches snickered.

  “You think Miracle doesn't know that?” Chase laughed.

  “But Miracle has her own money, right?” Peaches asked confused.

  Yeah, she’s rich, but not like Big Daddy. His bank makes Miracle's bank look like a toy piggy bank!”

  “What? So, he's an entertainer? I bet he's a rapper.” Peaches speculated.

  “All I’m at liberty to say is that he's an extremely well know ball player. And Miracle is determined to make him her baby daddy.”

  “It's like that?”

  “Oh yes! And that's the way it is.” Chase snickered as she peeped out the window for Miracle. They quickly changed the conversation as they noticed Miracle heading for the mansion. Miracle enters the mansion and is obviously irritated.

  “Hello Miracle.”

  “Hi Georgia. Can we make this as brief as possible, because I have a splitting headache and I need to take some prescription drugs and lie down.”

  “No problem, this won’t take but a minute. Okay, so as you can see the transformation has already begun. The painters are hard at work. The seamstress is measuring for drapes and the carpenters are building your custom units as we speak.”

  “Look, I can't express the urgency of getting this done asap. Now, more than ever I need to get in here by the end of the week. Things have changed and I have to move in no later than Friday.”

  “I know, I mean I understand. We're concentrating on the areas of the house that you will occupy first, such as the Master Suite, kitchen, dining room and great room. I should have you in by Friday morning and I'll continue to work on the other rooms after that, until they are done.”

  “Good. I'll make arrangements to move in on Friday. And Georgia, please finish the other Master bedroom suite on the ground level as well. My king will need his own space.”

  “No problem. Would you like to see my designs while you are here?”

  “No, I trust you. I have to get back to the hotel as soon as possible. We'll talk tomorrow when I feel better.”

  “Okay, I hope everything works out okay.” Peaches slipped.

  Miracle immediately flashed a suspicious look between Peaches and Chase. “What did you say?”

  “I said I hope you feel okay. Your headache… I hope it’s okay.”

  “Oh… Thanks. Chase are you coming?” She asked as she turned to leave.

  “No. If it's all the same with you I think I'll stay here and make sure everything gets done quickly. I’ll try to answer any questions they may have, so that Georgia won’t have to disturb you.”

  “Okay, that sounds like a good idea. I won't really need you. Just call the car service when you're ready to leave.”

  “No problem, just call me if you need me.”

  “Sure, but I’m going to take a sedative and go to sleep. This headache is the worse.”

  “Alright, but I’ll be here if there’s anything I can do.” Chase assured her.

  Peaches' phone rang while they were talking. She purposely ignored it assuming that it was Charles crazy ass for the fifth time. She was correct.

  Chapter 14

  Later that day, Charles packed his briefcase in preparation for his first court appearance as lead attorney. He had dreamed of this moment since he graduated law school and he didn’t want to leave anything to chance. Well dressed in a new suit, well versed and extremely confident, the handsome young attorney was certain that he would be victorious. As he hustled around the office gathering his files and briefs his assistant, Michael noticed a small hole in his pants.

  “Mr. Preston, I think you have a tiny little rip in your pants.”

  “What? A hole? Where? That’s impossible, this is a new suit!” Charles panicked.

  “It's just a little one in the seat of your pants. It’s hardly noticeable.” Charles attempted to get a look at the torn pants, but couldn’t see anything. “Put your jacket on, sir. I don't think you'll be able to see it beneath your jacket.” Michael assured him.

  Charles quickly grabs his suit jacket from the back of his chair and puts it on. “Shit! I don't need this right now. Is it still visible with my jacket on?”

  Michael takes a closer look. “No, not at all. It’s fine!”

  “Thank God. I don't have time to run home and change.” Charles sighed a big sigh of relief.

  “Yeah, I know. In fact, you need to leave for court right now if you want to beat the afternoon traffic.”

  “You're right. I don't want to be late for my first appearance.” Charles agreed as he quickly stuffed the files in his briefcase and prepared to leave.

  ~*~*~

  Now, Charles arrived to court on time without incident. His case was a slam dunk and he felt confident everything would go well. Charles had to enter a simple plea in an indecent exposure case. Unbeknown to him the seams of his suit were weakening with his every move. Peaches’ sabotage with the razor was starting to take effect.

  As he confidently relaxed back in his chair, awaiting his turn to speak, the shoulder seams and elbows of Charles’ jacket begin to split at an alarming rate. Unfortunately Charles had absolutely no clue what was happening.

  “Your honor, the Defendant is a sexual deviant who exposed himself in the Quick Pick Mart while women and children were present. We request that bail be set at five hundred thousand dollars.” The prosecutor pleaded.

  “Your honor, my client is no more a sexual deviant than you or I. He was merely the unfortunate victim of a freak wardrobe malfunction. He is a decent, hard- working, taxpaying, God fearing man who just wants to get this incident behind him and return to work. I respectfully ask that he be released on his own recognizance, pending trial.” Charles countered.

  “Your honor, we feel that the Defendant poses a significant flight risk with no strong clear ties to the state. We strongly urge the court to send a stern message that such behavior will not be tolerated or taken lightly in our city.”

  “Your honor, my client owns three houses and a business in this state and he has no intention of leaving the state before this matter is settled.” Charles immediately responded.

  Now over the course of time, as Charles repeatedly stands and sits his pants rip more and more, exposing his tiger print briefs. Spectators in the courtroom begin to whisper, snicker and point. Charles, the prosecutor and the Judge were puzzle
d as the court room chatter grew louder and louder.

  “Order! Order in the court! What's going on in here? This is a court of law. What in the world is so funny?”

  The bailiff, who had a bird’s eye view of the tiger show, fought back laughter of his own. Finally he approached the bench and whispered something to the Judge.

  The Judge snickered to himself before he banged the gavel loudly, again. “I say, Order! Order! I will have order or I will clear this courtroom! Counsel for the defense, please approach the bench.”

  The prosecutor is puzzled. “If it pleases your honor may I also approach?”

  “I'm not sure this concerns you, but under these unusual circumstances I will allow it.” The Judge remarked as he motioned for them to come forward.

  The two attorneys immediately approached the bench. Charles is now in full view of everyone and his pants are literally flapping in the breeze. People continued to stifle their laughter despite the Judge's warning.

  As Charles approached the bench the Judge noticed the large rip in the back of his pants and covers his mouth to conceal his own chuckles. “On second thought… Both counsels please join me in my chambers. Court is in brief recess!” The Judge stated as he hit the gavel.

  The Judge rises to exit the courtroom. “All rise!” The bailiff chimes and everyone stands.

  Though a little puzzled, Charles confidently follows the Prosecutor and the Judge to the Judge's chambers.

  By now, everyone is standing to honor the Judge. No one breathed a single sound as Charles strutted out of the courtroom as if he was the king of England. However, the second the door to the Judge's chamber closed, the crowded courtroom erupted in robust laughter.

  ~*~*~

  The Judge immediately confronted Charles. “Mr. Preston I've literally seen enough. What exactly are you trying to pull in my courtroom?”

  “Nothing Your Honor! I don't understand what you mean?” Charles quickly replied, puzzled by the Judges accusation that he was up to something.

  “So, you have no idea what I am talking about?” The Judge asked not really buying Charles’ sincerity.

  “No, Your Honor I am afraid I don't.” Charles innocently replied.

  “Okay, I'll try another approach. Mr. Preston are you aware that your pants are ripped?” He asked.

  “No Your Honor! I mean, yes, Your Honor I was aware that there was a tiny rip in my pants… But my assistant assured me that it was not visible.”

  “A tiny rip? Mr. Preston is this some kind of shameless ploy to make the jury sympathetic to your client's case?”

  “No Your Honor, I assure you that it's not. It's just a small hole. I had no idea that it was even visible beneath my jacket.”

  The prosecutor stifled his laughter as he quickly steals a glance at the back of Charles' pants. “Yeah, you’re right. It's hardly noticeable, Tiger.” He chuckled.

  The Judge snickered, cleared his throat and gives the prosecutor a “Tis, tis… Shame on you… No, No, No,” finger shake of disapproval before continuing. “So, Mr. Preston you’re trying to tell me that you have no idea that your pants are torn?”

  “No, your honor. As I said it's just a tiny rip. I don't understand what's going on. Is there a problem Your Honor?”

  “Oh for God's sake man! Your whole ass is hanging out! And let the record show that tiger print is not a good look for you!” The Judge blurted out.

  The Prosecutor and the Judge simultaneously burst into laughter. The Judge playfully mimics a snarling, pawing tiger and the Prosecutor returns fire- snarl for snarl and paw for paw. A cat fight ensues.

  “That's impossible. This is a brand new suit!” Charles insisted, stunned and confused. He feels around for the seat of his pants and feels his underwear and his thigh. Horrified, he bolts for the bathroom. A loud screech erupts. “Ah Hell No!” Charles could be heard screaming. “Oh My God! Son of a Bitch! What in the Hell! Damn! Damn! Damn! Oh Come On! Why Peaches, why?”

  The Prosecutor and the Judge laughed even harder and the cat fight commenced again.

  Chapter 15

  As promised, Rashawn added a few extra workout sessions to Peaches’ two mile run. She was doing great with her runs and had even managed to stop whining about them. A week or so had passed and Peaches is seeing results. She was hooked and all in. She is determined to lose weight at any cost.

  Now, Rashawn left a message for her to meet him at Boxer Jack’s Gym after work. Being the girly, girl that she was, Peaches stopped to get her a cute yoga workout outfit. She had decided early in the game that if she had to exercise then she might as well look cute while she did it.

  Peaches arrived at Boxer Jack’s to find Rashawn working on the speed bag. Now unbeknown to Peaches, the gym was a training gym for former and would be boxers. The owner, Jack Lipskey was a former Light Heavy Weight Contender and a good friend of Rashawn’s dad. Rashawn worked out their weekly to stay in shape and beneath the paparazzi’s radar.

  Puzzled and a little disgusted by the crudeness and smell of the gym, Peaches held her nose and cautiously made her way pass the sea of half- naked, sweaty men working out. As she passed one of the three large boxing rings a man is knocked to the canvas while sparring. He smiles a snaggled tooth smile as he catches a glimpse of Peaches.

  “Hey pretty lady! Looking for me?” He asks after spitting out his mouth piece and a bloody tooth.

  Peaches squealed like a little girl and scurried over to Rashawn. “Peanut, why in the hell did you tell me to meet you here?”

  “Hey! You’re late! This is your new gym. Do you like it?”

  “Oh no the hell it ain't. It smells like musty balls and stanky ass crack in here. You must have lost your damn mind! Oh my God, it’s dirty as hell in here. When’s the last time Jack dusted?” Peaches snorted as she looked around and clutched her gym bag close to her chest.

  “Come on it's not that bad. Once you get in the workout flow, none of that stuff will even matter.”

  “Peanut, you do realize that I'm a woman, right? Like Monique always say, ‘I might be thick in the waist, but I'm still cute in the face.’ I can’t be coming here to work out. Look around you… I’m the only girl in here. These nigga's looking at me like I’m a pussy sandwich.”

  Rashawn stared at Peaches. He had to admit she did look tasty in her Yoga Gear, and he was officially hungry as hell, but he’d never let her know that. “Yeah, anyway... Here, put these gloves on and let's warm up on the speed bag.” Rashawn tosses Peaches a brand new pair of pink and white boxing gloves.

  She smiles as they match her outfit perfectly. “Did you get these for me?”

  “Yeah! Why?”

  “I guess you realize I’m a girl after all.”

  “Whatever! You needed boxing gloves and the pink ones were on clearance sale.” He lied. “Here let me help you lace those.”

  Peaches stared at Rashawn as he methodically laced her boxing gloves. Helen Keller could see that Rashawn was as fine as the lint in an ant’s bellybutton and it didn’t go unnoticed by Peaches. Her Peanut had grown up to be an extremely attractive man.

  Peaches estimated him to be around six feet to six one, with two hundred pounds of well defined, sexy muscles. Rashawn’s biceps had biceps and his abdominal muscles were ridiculously ripped. Momentarily losing her bearings Peaches eyes slowly roamed over Rashawn’s body like an MRI. “Damn Peanut is fine!” Her mine screamed.

  “Peaches! Peaches! P-E-A-C-H-E-S!” Rashawn called.

  “What? Why you yelling my name all loud?” She responded, embarrassed that he caught her looking.

  “Why’d I have to call you three times at all? Did you hear a word I just said? Try to stay focused!”

  “I am focused.” She mumbled as she watched him finish the laces on her gloves. “Well, focus on my voice. Like I was saying, boxing is a good way to strengthen your arms and shoulders and your back. It’ll also give you an extra cardio workout. I noticed you hit Charles with a hell of a right, so I figured we might as wel
l use it.”

  “I should have followed with the left! If you liked my right wait until you see my left.”

  “Honestly, I hope I never see your left coming at me. That right hand of yours is wicked.” Rashawn chuckled. “I have a few guys that are going to spar with you when you’re ready. So, save your left for them. Right now, we’ll concentrate on speed and accuracy.” Rashawn eyes met Peaches and they lingered there an uncomfortable amount of time. Coughing to clear his throat he broke their gaze. “Okay! Start off slow, like this. Concentrate on hitting the bag one punch at a time as you slowly build up momentum and speed.” Rashawn demonstrated

  “Do I look like I can't fight? Move out the way. These are not the first pair of boxing gloves I’ve owned.” Peaches declared as she shoved Rashawn out of the way and slowly began to punch the speed bag. Finding her rhythm, she quickly picked up speed before throwing in a few tricks.

  Rashawn was impressed. He watched in silence as Peaches worked up a good sweat. “So, who taught you to box?”

  “Who taught you to box?” She countered.

  “Damn, that’s right! I forgot you gave me my first boxing lesson when I was ten.” Rashawn chuckled.

  “Yeah! I have four big brothers and they taught me when I was ten. We had a speed bag, some punching bags, weights and jump ropes in our basement. We’d work out and spar for hours.” She laughed.

  “So, they taught you to box?”

  “No! More like they beat my ass every day until I learned to box. I wasn’t into all of that sweaty mess. I was a girl… A cute one at that! So, they made sure that I knew how to handle myself.”

  “Judging by the way you laid Charles ass out, mission accomplished.” Rashawn laughed.

  “I didn't need boxing lessons to whip Charles’ punk ass. After that monkey shit he pulled on me he's lucky to be alive. I should have killed his ass! He lucky I didn’t call my brothers.”

  “Peaches, can I ask you something?”

  “Yeah, sure!” Peaches responded as she alternated hands on the speed bag.