by Cydney Rax
Praise for My Sister’s Ex
One of Essence magazine’s Best Reads of 2009
“Cydney Rax has a way [of] adding a twist to her plots; she makes you think about things that for some are unimaginable and unforgivable.”
—The Pink Reviewers
“With a feel-good quality … this book is a must-read and will have you begging for more.”
—Cheryl Hayes, APOOO Book Club
Praise for My Best Friend and My Man
“There are some parts where Cydney has you laughing out loud and others where you want to reach in and throttle the characters. Cydney has another hit on her hands!”
—Desiree Day, author of Crazy Love and One G-String Short of Crazy
“Smart, sexy, and wickedly funny … Once again, Cydney Rax displays her keen ability to weave a story of romance and mayhem with characters that you’ll both love … and love to hate.”
—Nancey Flowers, Essence magazine bestselling author of No Strings Attached
“Cydney Rax is phenomenal with her pen game. This blueprint on how to win in the game of love is sure to be a bestseller.”
—Joy King, author of Hooker to Housewife and Superstar
“Truly a satisfying read that pulled me in from page one … I couldn’t put it down.”
—Cheryl Robinson, author of Sweet Georgia Brown
“Whatever’s in the water in Houston, Cydney Rax should drink eight glasses a day.”
—Patrik Henry Bass, senior editor, Essence magazine
Praise for My Husband’s Girlfriend
“Provocative.”
—Ebony magazine
“A twisted tale of infidelity.”
—Today’s Black Woman
“The Book We Can’t Put Down … the scandalous new novel … you’ll find yourself drawn to Rax’s juicy tale of out-of-order Buppies in love and lust.”
—Essence magazine
“One of the most provocative, entrancing, and insatiable naughty novels of the year has arrived. Cydney Rax is on her way to being a serial bestseller.”
—Disilgold Soul magazine
“Rax manages the fallout … with insight, zip, and wit, and airs multiple conflicts within black middle-class life in compelling detail.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Grabs your attention from the start … complicated characters add depth, and their emotions make the novel seem realistic.”
—Romantic Times
Praise for My Daughter’s Boyfriend
“Best Guilty Pleasure Read.”
—Upscale
“Juicy debut, capably written. Rax keeps it real, and Tracey is genuinely likable, for all her sins.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Emotionally charged … scandalous in nature, though tastefully written … Rax’s novel forces deep reflection.”
—Romantic Times
“One of the hottest and heaviest secret and lustful relationships to debut in a novel … Get ready to hold your breath. My Daughter’s Boyfriend is a heated and sexy page turner…. Cydney Rax is a powerful and masterful storyteller.”
—Disilgold.com
“A fascinating, witty, and thought-provoking novel full of memorable characters … the perfect summer read.”
—Zane
Also by Cydney Rax
My Sister’s Ex
My Best Friend and My Man
My Husband’s Girlfriend
My Daughter’s Boyfriend
This one is dedicated to all my loyal readers.
Contents
Others Books by this author
Title Page
Dedication
Author’s Note
Part 1 - Rules of Engagement
Chapter 1 - Dani: More Than Just a Pretty Face
Chapter 2 - Anya: My Reality Is Far Different from My Dream
Chapter 3 - Scottie: An Afternoon with Scottie
Chapter 4 - Dani: Neil Still Loves Me
Chapter 5 - LaNecia: Gotta Get My Face Time
Chapter 6 - Scottie: Hurricane LaNecia
Chapter 7 - Anya: Take the Good with the Bad
Chapter 8 - LaNecia: I’m Sick of You Leaving Me
Chapter 9 - Anya: Middle-Aged Beauty
Chapter 10 - Dani: Love Is Sometimes Selfish
Chapter 11 - LaNecia: Trying to Play the Game
Chapter 12 - Dani: Olive Juice
Chapter 13 - Anya: Thankful
Chapter 14 - Dani: Scottie’s Ultimate Surprise
Chapter 15 - Scottie: I Want to Be Your Husband
Part 2 - For Better or Worse
Chapter 16 - Dani: Why Are You Marrying My Brother?
Chapter 17 - Anya: The Day I Turn Forty
Chapter 18 - LaNecia: You Got It Bad
Chapter 19 - Dani: The Pain of Marrying Scottie
Chapter 20 - LaNecia: Wedding Day Blues
Chapter 21 - Scottie: Another Man’s Wife
Chapter 22 - Anya: Surgery
Chapter 23 - Dani: A Great Sex Life Keeps a Man at Home
Chapter 24 - Scottie: Why Am I Going to Jail?
Chapter 25 - Dani: Waiting on You to Come Home
Chapter 26 - Anya: I Hear Love
Chapter 27 - Scottie: I’m Going to Make You Love Me
Chapter 28 - Dani: Marriage Isn’t Always What It Seems
Acknowledgments
Copyright
Author’s Note
Sometimes reader interest can birth books. After My Husband’s Girlfriend (MHG) was released, I received a variety of responses from readers. Some folks thought the topic was implausible—and they didn’t hesitate to tell me just that. Actually, I understood what they were feeling. This wild and crazy story line is strictly fiction, right? But then the e-mails started pouring into my Inbox. One older male reader confessed that he and his wife were going through the same problems as the characters Neil and Anya. He sadly told me that his own wife actually suffered from FSAD (female sexual arousal disorder). They weren’t having sex. Period. “What should I do?” he asked me. I responded with a nice e-mail, and afterward I felt like, Whoa! I’m not an advice columnist.
A few other readers sent e-mails stating they, too, could relate to the MHG drama. One guy had encountered his own “Dani” in real life, and so on. And quite a few wanted to know, “Cydney, when are you going to make this into a movie?” Ha! If only it were that easy … I’d be somewhere right now … (okay, let me focus).
One librarian in Grand Rapids, Michigan, said MHG was one of the best urban fiction novels she’s ever read. I was shocked and thrilled. Authors love receiving this kind of e-mail. Trust me.
But the e-mails I received from a slew of others are the reason I wrote Brothers and Wives—the stand-alone sequel to MHG. Simply put, some folks demanded, “When’s the sequel coming out?” At first I told everyone, “Nope, no. No sequel.” But a couple of years after MHG, the characters began talking to me again. Creativity started flowing. And here in your hands is the result of fan interest. Plus it was great to get involved again with Neil, Dani, and Anya and find out what’s going on in their lives these days.
I love the book. I hope you do, too. From the bottom of my heart, thank you, for every ounce of your support.
Cydney Rax
— PART 1 —
RULES OF ENGAGEMENT
— 1 —
DANI
More Than Just a Pretty Face
It’s the last weekend in July. I’ve just pulled my pickup into the parking lot of the Bear Creek Pioneers Park on the west side of Houston. I open the door of my Toyota Tundra and carefully lift my nearly three-year-old son, Brax, from his car seat. “Come on, baby, watch your step,” I tell him and watch him closely so
he won’t stumble on parts of the picnic grounds that dip unevenly. We walk toward the aroma of hickory-smoked meat. From a short distance, I can see a flurry of activity in front of a covered pavilion that’s draped by a large banner with the words Meadows Family Reunion.
Once I arrive at our picnic area, I set my red cooler, a family-size bag of pita chips, and several containers of hummus on a green rectangular metal table. I rearrange my orange and red bikini top so that my nipples aren’t totally showing and give my white Bermuda shorts the once-over. I nervously inhale and take in the scene around me and do a quick count. It looks like seventy-something people are here already. Some folks are holding little mini fans in their hands trying to stay cool; they are wasting their time—it’s so hot outside I feel like I’m swimming in a pot of boiling water.
“Mommy, I’m thirsty.”
“Okay,” I tell Brax and reach for a bag of cups that’s on the table and pull one out. I fill it with cold water from a huge orange beverage container and watch him take a long swallow.
The sound of laughing children captures our attention, and we both practically run toward a play area where dozens of his cousins are swinging, climbing monkey bars, and going for rides down the sliding board. Brax plays on the swing until a teenage cousin asks for my permission to include him in a group of kids who are going for a quick visit to the wildlife habitat. I say okay and make them promise to try and bring my son back within a half hour.
I walk back toward the pavilion, where I’m drawn to thumping, mesmerizing music that’s blaring from a few speakers. Several feet away, about a dozen couples are partying on a concrete floor in an open area right by the picnic tables. Riley Dobson, Neil Meadows’s next-door neighbor, grins and waves at me from the dance floor. I wave back. Thank God for a friendly face. In the past, when I was going through hard times, she temporarily let me live with her, and I’ve always appreciated her generous heart.
Feeling spirited and confident, I squeeze past folks till I reach the dance floor. It’s been a while since I’ve been around some of Neil’s relatives. I want to relax and not feel uncomfortable. I’m sure there’re still some relatives who are upset over the fact that Neil, a married father, got me pregnant with Brax a few years ago.
Even though I lack a dance partner, I twist my ass to the new Ray J song, snapping my fingers and singing quietly. Right in front of me is the deejay booth, which holds a long, transportable table that stands on a slightly raised platform. A couple of laptops and mixers are spread across the surface. Two guys are standing behind the table; one is an average-looking guy sporting nerd glasses. But the man working the turntable makes me ask myself, Who the hell is this?
He’s wearing an army-green wife beater and dark cotton shorts. His thick, round arms remind me of Vin Diesel with biceps so large that Brax could probably do pull-ups on them. Yep, dude looks completely edible to me.
The handsome man rocks his head to the beat, and his lips are moving like he’s chatting with his partner. But the second he glances into the crowd and rests his pretty eyes on me, his conversation stops.
His partner nods like everything’s cool and he’ll keep the music going. The man removes his headphones, steps down from the deejay table, and walks slowly over to me. Grinning, he leans in with his mouth near my ear and offers me a pleasant “What’s up?”
“Hey,” I answer as I continue dancing.
“You look familiar.”
“Hmm, you look kind of familiar yourself. You spin on the weekends?”
“Naw, nawww, baby girl. I just got back into the H last night. I’ve been posted up in Motown and only been back in Houston since yesterday. I’m Scottie Meadows.”
At first I think, Hmm, probably a younger cousin who went away to college. Yet Scottie doesn’t look like he’d be stuck somewhere in a residence hall with his head buried between textbooks. The black bandanna tied around his head and twisted to the side gives him a dangerous air.
“And I’m Danielle Frazier, but my friends call me Dani.”
“Hi, Dani,” he says, winking at me.
I tilt my neck to peer at him with greater interest. Scottie reaches out like he’s about to shake my hand, but then he grabs my fingertips, intertwines them in his, and gently pulls me closer, as if he can’t help himself. I roll my eyes and emphatically shake my head like, Don’t even try it. I’m not opposed to being held and frisked by an incredibly good-looking man, but this dude won’t be getting Dani’s cookies this fast and easy, I don’t care how dangerously handsome he is. I decide that if I do let him have me, he’s going to have to wait for and earn this scrumptious piece of deliciousness.
After he releases me, I slow my dancing down a notch. Scottie continues talking over the drone of the music. “You look really, really nice today.”
“You’re too kind. Thanks.” I smile, wanting to say, “So do you,” but I don’t.
“Who invited you?”
“Neil.”
He looks shocked as hell, then replies, “Oh yeah? That’s my older brother.”
And SHAZAM, like a superhero with magical powers, Neil bursts onto the scene out of nowhere and interrupts us.
“Don’t even think about it. Don’t ask, Scottie. Don’t!”
“What you talking about, Neil? We’re just holding a conversation, minding our own business, and you walking up in here like you the big boss man.” Scottie throws up his hands in exasperation and leers at his brother. His six-foot-four body towers over Neil by a few inches.
“Baby bro, I’m nobody’s boss,” Neil continues. “I’m just saying Dani is off-limits.”
“What the hell?” I mumble, annoyed at Neil for having the audacity to try and control who speaks to me. I stop dancing, unable to take my eyes off Scottie and Neil.
“Say what?” Scottie jumps in. “Shouldn’t you be saying your wife, Anya, is off-limits? You getting me messed up, brotha.”
“You’re already messed up,” Neil snaps. “And Dani doesn’t need to get caught up in all that.”
Neil’s not talking to me, yet I freeze. His harsh voice is a long blade shoved and twisted against my neck. Rage twinkles in Neil’s piercing eyes. This man isn’t playing. But neither am I. Nobody cock-blocks Danielle Frazier.
“What the fuck?” I screech.
I don’t care if Scottie is Neil’s relative or if he’s a stranger that wandered into their family reunion begging for a hot dog—Neil had no freaking right to put the brakes on someone trying to talk to me. It makes me so mad, especially since he is the one who invited me to this function in the first damned place.
“Dani, you don’t understand,” Neil says. “My brother isn’t someone you should be getting to know.”
“Wait a minute, Neil,” Scottie speaks up. “This is a family reunion. Dani here is probably going to be talking to everyone, not just me. Am I right, or am I wrong?”
I smirk at Neil. I love that a man I barely know is sticking up for me.
“Scottie, you know you’re full of …”
Then this tall, big-eyed girl with braids springing out of her head like long-stemmed flowers excitedly hops toward us and cuts in on our heated conversation. She looks like she’s in her early twenties and is wearing purple boy shorts and an orange tank with a plunging neckline. When she walks, her boobs bounce like basketballs and nearly flop out of her skimpy top. She tilts her head and stares at me with a mixture of hurt and disgust. She then swiftly parks herself right in front of Scottie. Who is she? I move next to Scottie to get a good view. The girl smiles, then looks like she’s about to burst open and a river of tears is going to spill out. He glares at her like now is not the time to be in his face.
“Aw, Scottie, why you gonna act like that, huh? You know you’re not right.” She raises her voice, competing with the music. Why is she doing that? I want to discreetly tiptoe out of here while I have a chance, yet I can’t. I won’t. Scottie and I have just started a conversation. If I can get Neil off my case, I won’t be leaving u
ntil his brother and I finish talking.
Neil pleads, “LaNecia, please stop all that yelling. Go on and help serve lunch.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about barbecue and chicken wings right now. These greedy-ass Negroes can serve themselves. Do I look like I work at Hooters?”
Yep, I think to myself and stare her up and down.
The Ray J song is coming to an end. There’s a pause before the next song starts.
LaNecia continues whining and jumps up and down like a self-centered kid. “I want to talk to Scottie. I need to talk to him.”
“LaNecia, please calm down, cousin.”
Ahhh. It suddenly hits me. That name sounds familiar. I’ve heard about LaNecia, one of Neil’s imbalanced kinfolks.
Neil squeezes in between LaNecia and Scottie, and Scottie takes the opportunity to move a few steps back from the line of fire.
“Shut up, nerd!” she shrieks. She presses her thick lips together, then opens her mouth and blows hard. A thick, nasty glob of saliva lands squarely on Neil’s striped polo. He makes a face and raises his hand in the air, but his fist hangs suspended—as if he realizes he can’t throw a punch at his young relative.
I cover my mouth with my hands and discreetly laugh my butt off. Whew, his family is nuts. Thank God my dreams of being married to Neil never came true.
Neil exhales loudly, grabs a hankie from his back pocket, and quickly wipes off the spit. It looks so yucky. Neil clasps LaNecia by the shoulders and violently shakes her. Her long braids fly every which way and smack her in the eyes, nose, and lips. That’s when I feel a tap my shoulder. Startled, I spin around. Scottie gestures at me to follow him. I gladly walk away from the drama.
