I was about to jab the man with my fingernail and wake him up, but then I spotted the watch and the diamond-studded pinky rings—yes, plural—one on each hand, and that made me think better of my action.
“Hello,” I whispered softly into his ear as I gently shook his shoulder. His lids fluttered and before me appeared the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. “Sorry to wake you, but I’m just going to slip into the seat beside you.” The man started to unbuckle his seat belt, but I said, “Oh, no, please don’t. I can get in. I’ll just slide by.” I then began the most seductive “slide-through” ever performed, thirty thousand feet in the air!
That’s how I met and bagged Arthur Friedman.
Up until recently, we’ve had a standing Thursday-night date. He would always show up at my job in his long black limousine, greet me with a kiss (on the cheek), and present me with two dozen white roses. Sometimes if he’d had a really good day or thought that that was the night he was going to get some of my goodies, he’d bring along a little trinket. To date I’ve received two tennis bracelets, a sapphire anklet, and a bottle of Clive Christian’s No. 1 perfume, which retails for just under two grand!
I acted as if all those things blew me away—yeah, I ooh’d and I aah’d, and I even let him touch up under my blouse, but not up under my La Perla bra!
I ain’t stupid. These high-powered attorneys get so many things handed to them, who’s to say that he actually spent his duckets on those gifts? And besides, he’s going to have to dig a whole lot deeper if he expects even a sniff of my coochie!
The limo, the flowers, the fancy restaurants, and little gifts may seem spectacular to some chickenhead, but not to me. Chevanese Cambridge is in it for the big payoff, which is my own home, car, and bank account.
But I hadn’t seen or heard from Arthur in over three weeks. He’d changed his cell phone number, and when I called the office his secretary kept telling me that he was still out of town, but she wouldn’t tell me where or when he’d be back.
Now Frederick Smalls, a restaurant owner, is a good-looking Jamaican brother with a good head on his shoulders—and down between his legs, come to think of it.
Frederick is a cash man. He can’t be bothered with shopping for gifts or sending flowers; he’d rather just peel off a couple hundred and send me to get whatever it is I want.
Now him I’ve slept with, just once. But I made the time unforgettable for him, and now he can’t wait to get a second chance. But I keep him at bay. Besides, he’s got a steady woman and, from what I’ve heard, a wife and family back in Kingston. But he’s the kind of brother who likes to think he’s living in Africa, where they can have more than one wife or woman and everybody is fine with it.
Our little thing worked fine because he was so busy running the restaurant, he barely had time to take a piss, so he appreciated a woman who ain’t trying to be up under him all the time. A woman that ain’t nagging him about spending time together or carrying on about why he didn’t call her when he said he would. I’m that woman!
At least, I was that woman.
The last two visits I made to the restaurant, Frederick didn’t even come out of the kitchen to see me, and after I had a few drinks and something to eat at the bar I actually got a bill!
On top of that, he hadn’t returned my phone calls in about a month. That right there told me his time was done.
The last one was a young boy named Hamil. No last name, just Hamil.
Black, barely thirty, with a bank account that was out of this world. He was a hustler and had a bit of thug in him. I have a weakness for thugs. Anyway, he and I met when I had just stepped out of the nail salon and had stopped to admire my reflection in the tinted passenger-side window of this parked Denali, when suddenly the window started to come down and I was met with a beautiful specimen. A young brown-skinned brother, sporting a baldy and the most beautiful hazel eyes I’d ever seen, leaned over and said, “Can I give you a ride, pretty miss?”
I gotta tell you, it took everything in me to turn that brother down. It didn’t help that it was freezing cold out and it sure did look toasty and warm inside that truck.
But I’m not crazy: this is NYC, and we got some stone-cold lunatics who look normal and drive fly vehicles.
So I just smiled and said, “Are those your eyes?”
He laughed, showing me two rows of exceptionally white teeth. “Yeah—are those yours?”
I was rocking my blue contacts that day. “Yeah, bought and paid for!” I said, and we laughed together.
To make a long story short, he gave me his business card, I called a week later, and we had dinner soon after that.
Because of Hamil, I’d been front and center at all the hottest concerts that had come through town in the past six months. I’d partied with major celebrities and drunk so much Cristal that it was coming out of my ears.
I ain’t gonna lie: I was living the life I’d always wanted to live. I was living like a superstar! And so Hamil was the one I elected to be able to tap this ass whenever he wanted to. And after that I thought I had him in my pocket (or my purse), because Hamil just started paying my rent and utilities, started talking that “we” stuff, and I have to tell you that that kinda talk sounded good, but I know what these men out here are all about, and it ain’t no committed relationship, so when he asked me to stop seeing the other men I was dating, I said, “Yeah, sure,” and kept right on seeing them, which explained this eviction notice I was holding in my hands.
Oh well, fuck him! Fuck all of them!
Summer was right around the corner: new season, new meat.
I crumpled the notice and tossed it into the trash can.
This studio apartment was too damn small for me to begin with. I’d be much more comfortable at Noah’s three-story brownstone. What did a single man need with all that space anyway?
I slipped my little black Ann Klein dress over my head and kicked my pumps off.
I had packing to do.
Nothing really strenuous. I don’t own any pots or pans, plates, or cups. Just my clothes and shoes, two towels, two washcloths, two sets of sheets, a shower curtain, and a sofa that has seen better days many, many years ago.
“I won’t be taking you,” I said to the sofa and patted the tattered arm.
I pulled out the largest of my Louis Vuitton suitcases from beneath the bed and got down to work.
Seven
I had been successfully dodging Crystal and Geneva for two weeks by the time I strolled into Aubette and heard Geneva scream out, “Chevy, where the hell you been hiding!”
I spun around and my eyes fell on Geneva and then Crystal, who was giving me one of her infamous judgmental looks. I took a deep breath and started toward them.
It was almost eight-thirty, and Crystal’s platinum American Express card was already resting on top of the bill the waiter had left there. If I had shown up ten minutes later we would have missed each other. If I had had the good sense to remove my shades before walking into that damn dark-ass place I would have seen them before they saw me. Damn!
“I been around,” I said as I pulled out a chair and sat down.
“Been around where?” Geneva asked as she tugged at the blouse that was too small for her back when she was a hundred and eighty pounds, and now she was a long way from that weight.
“You still doing Calorie Counters?” I asked, allowing my eyes to roll over her.
“Don’t change the subject,” Crystal said. She was always coming to Geneva’s defense. “Your home number is disconnected.” And then she leaned in and took a real good look at me and asked, “Do you have a tan?”
“Yes and yes again!” I said with an air of boredom.
“I’ve been calling your job for two days, Chevy, and all I get is your voice mail. Tomorrow I was going to call the main number. So where you been?”
“What is this, the third fucking degree?”
“We were just worried about you,” Geneva said.
I had to soften
. “I know, I know. I-I went down to St. Barts for a few days.”
Crystal eyed me suspiciously. “St. Barts? You have money for a vacation but not to pay me back?”
“Calm down. It was on the company. A fam trip. You know those trips are free for travel agents.”
“Uh-huh.”
“But you were supposed to be taking care of Noah’s fish while he’s in London,” Geneva said.
“Oh, it was just two days. Damn, those fish looked like they could use a few days without some food.”
“Well, I hope you’ve been by to feed them since you got back,” Geneva said.
Of course I’d fed them. I looked at the little buggers every day. I was living there now, for chrissakes. Of course, Geneva and Crystal didn’t know that.
“Yes, yes, they’re fine.”
“Oh, okay, ’cause you know Noah would kill you if he came home and found those fish dead,” Geneva added.
“Yeah, yeah,” I said as I surveyed the tall, dark, and handsome possibilities.
“So do you have anything you’d like to share with me?” Crystal asked coolly as she leaned back in her chair.
Geneva’s eyes bounced between us, and then she looked down into her empty glass.
“No, no.” I feigned stupidity even though I could feel her eyes boring into my boobs.
“Nothing at all. Nothing?” she pressed, and her eyebrows climbed higher on her forehead.
Now I was wishing that I’d worn something other than this short white dress with the plunging neckline.
“Well, I know that Geneva has already told you all about my little surgery,” I spat. “She can’t hold water,” I added, before I thrust my new size-Cs at her.
Crystal just shook her head at me and drained the rest of her apple martini.
“You know, it’s a real shame that you’re not happy with yourself,” she said as she plucked the wedge of green apple from the glass’s depths, “and an even bigger shame Geneva and I have to stake out your favorite Tuesday-night haunt just to find you.”
She popped the apple wedge into her mouth and chewed on it thoughtfully for a moment. “You lied to me about what you needed the money for.”
“I didn’t lie. I told you I was having surgery. And furthermore, I wasn’t avoiding you. I’ve been busy and I’ve been away.”
Geneva and Crystal just looked at me.
“Okay, so since you’re not avoiding me, I guess we could traipse on over to the Citibank and get some money out of the ATM.”
I looked at her like she’d lost her mind. She knew I didn’t have no damn bank account!
“Look, Crystal, I said I was going to pay you back and I am. Just give me some time,” I said, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.
Crystal just eyed me.
“So when did you get back, Chevy?” Geneva asked, trying to break the tension she knew was building between us.
“Late last night, girl. Chile, St. Barts is outta this world. You hear me!”
“Oh, really? St. Barts, or the men?” Geneva asked slyly.
“Oh, them too. And they are rich! Rich! Rich!” I almost screamed.
“Of course they are,” Crystal said with a little revulsion. I just ignored her.
“The Guanahani is amazing. Little pastel-colored cottages overlooking the ocean. Simply divine.”
Geneva looked at Crystal again. Crystal’s face was as hard as stone.
“So, um, did you meet anyone?” Geneva asked.
“Of course, girl, this Parisian man. About fifty. He was there on business. I told him I was a wealthy widow traveling the world!”
“So we did the wealthy-widow act again?” Crystal chimed as the waiter came and collected the bill.
“I haven’t used that one in a while, girl.” I laughed and caught the waiter by the elbow. “Let me have an apple martini,” I told him.
“Oh yes, you have,” Geneva reminded me.
“Really?” I had to search my mind. I’d told so many lies that it was becoming harder to keep up with them. “Was it at the Connaught?”
“I don’t know, one of those cities,” Geneva said.
Poor thing had never been anywhere out of New York.
“The Connaught is a hotel, not a city. London is the city,” I said and rolled my eyes. “Look at a fucking atlas sometimes, would ya?”
“Don’t let me come across this table and smack those gray contacts out of your head,” Geneva threatened.
I sucked my teeth and looked around for the waiter and my drink.
“Chevy, why do you always have to be so damn degrading?” Crystal leaned in and hissed at me.
I just shrugged my shoulders.
I didn’t think I was degrading Geneva. I was just telling her what she needed to do so she wouldn’t sound so damn ignorant.
The waiter set my drink down on the table before me and then asked, “Should I add this to the bill?”
“Yes, please,” I said and waved him away before Crystal could object.
“You know, girl, you got balls the size of grapefruits,” she said with a sneer.
“Oh, it’s just one little drink, damn. Just add it to the five Gs I owe you.”
Geneva laughed under her breath.
I sipped my drink and smacked my lips together before I spoke again.
“You know, Crystal, you and I need to take one of those luxury trips together.”
“Yeah, I haven’t been on vacation in ages. I think the last real vacation I took was two years ago to Bermuda.”
“It’s not like you can’t afford it or can’t get the time off.”
“I’m just really busy,” she said and signed the credit card receipt the waiter had set down before her.
“Yeah, busy waiting on that boy to take you away or even take you out.”
“ ’Scuse me, he is a man and not a boy, and I do not have to wait on him. If I want to do something and he’s not available, I just do it. I’m an independent woman,” Crystal snapped.
“Yeah whatever.” I was uninterested in going down Crystal’s yellow-brick fantasy road, but I knew she was going to drag me along whether I wanted to go or not.
“Am I at home now?” Crystal barked defensively as she spread her arms out around her. “I’m here, ain’t I? And I think being here and not home constitutes out, doesn’t it?” she said and looked at Geneva for confirmation. And, of course, Geneva agreed.
“Yeah, but that’s only because y’all came out looking for me,” I said, waving at the waiter. “Another one, please,” I said as I handed him my empty glass.
“I’m not paying for that one, Chevy,” Crystal huffed as she gathered herself to leave.
“Didn’t ask you to.”
“Whatever, Chevy.”
Crystal tucked the credit card back inside her wallet. Tossing the wallet down into her handbag, she looked over at Geneva and said, “You ready, girl?”
Geneva yawned. “Bye, Chevy,” she said as she and Crystal stood.
“Yeah, bye.”
“Look, Chevy, you make sure to call me tomorrow so that we can discuss those,” she said, pointing at my new Cs.
I just nodded my head and turned my attention to the crowd.
Crystal threw a ten-dollar tip down onto the table, and then she and Geneva started toward the door.
Grateful they were finally gone, I was able to really relax. I leaned back in the chair so I could enjoy the first drove of nine-o’clock honeys walking through the door.
My, my, was that platinum I was seeing on that brother’s wrist?
I crossed my tight long legs, plastered my face with my million-dollar smile, discreetly plucked the ten-dollar bill off the table, and stuffed it down between my new Cs.
It was going to be a good night!
Eight
So Where’s Mr. Kendrick tonight?” Geneva asked as we climbed into the back of the taxi.
“Ninetieth and Columbus and then onto Central Park West,” I said before settling into the har
d leather of the seat.
Where was Kendrick? The last time I heard from him it was Madrid. That was three days ago. We had had a small disagreement before he left. It was something so silly that I couldn’t even think of what it was about now. But I do remember that he’d said some hurtful things to me, which was not in character for him. I put it on the stress that he’d been under. I mean, being the second man in charge of an international multimillion-dollar real estate investment company was no walk in the park.
“Oh, he’s still out of town on business,” I said and turned my head toward the window.
“Oh,” Geneva said quietly and leaned back in her seat.
“You know, this love thing isn’t always easy,” I said, more to myself than to her.
Geneva patted my knee. “Is it ever?” she said and kind of chuckled to take some of the heaviness off the statement.
“Just once can’t it be?” I said, turning to her, hoping that she had an answer for me, but all she did was shrug her shoulders in ignorance.
I turned my attention back to the goings-on outside my window.
“Well, I thought you guys were so happy. What exactly is the problem?” Geneva asked.
Did I know the exact problem? No, I didn’t. It was just little things that I couldn’t even put my finger on.
But what I threw over my shoulder to Geneva was “It’s hard on me, him being out of town so often.”
“Yeah, I guess that is difficult,” Geneva said sympathetically. “But it’s not always going to be like that, Crystal.”
What else was it going to be like, and when? It’d been two years, and the only thing that changed was the amount of time we didn’t get to be with each other.
Maybe I was just being a brat, a baby, a spoiled little girl—a Chevy!
“Well, you know I’m here for you,” Geneva breathed as she patted my knee.
“I know you are.” I sighed and then tapped on the plastic protective shield that separated us from the driver. “You can drop me right here on this corner.” I dug into my wallet and pulled a ten-dollar bill out of it and handed it to Geneva.
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