A Little Bit of Karma

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley

  “Fine,” he huffed, stepping out of the car. I took a deep breath to pull myself together.

  The line for the book signing was already out the door and snaking around the corner. Jay waved to the crowd as he walked around to open the passenger side of the Escalade. I knew the last thing he felt like doing was helping me out, but again, it was all part of the act.

  The driver opened the SUV door and I eased a stiletto out and took Jay’s hand as he assisted me; then we both waved to the crowd.

  “We love the Lovejoys!” someone screamed.

  “We love you back,” Jay replied, as he placed his hand against the small of my back and helped me up the walkway.

  My smile faded and I struggled not to cut my eyes at him. Of course he’d respond; the woman who yelled had gigantic silicone breasts and bleached-blond hair.

  “Can you at least try to hide your attitude?” he whispered through a tight smile.

  “Please don’t talk to me,” I replied, keeping my own forced smile intact.

  “Hello, hello,” the publicist, Lori, said, greeting us as we walked up. She was a petite, perky woman who was the epitome of professionalism. And her tireless efforts were part of the reason Jay and I had become household names. “As you can see, we have a terrific crowd. Everyone is just so excited about this new book. You guys really have a home run with this one.” She held up a copy of our new book, Real Talk. Of course she’d be excited about it. The book had been out eight weeks and had been on the New York Times bestseller list for every one of those weeks. Our last book three years ago hadn’t even made the Amazon bestseller list. But then again, that was before the syndicated radio show, before we discovered the formula to help couples heal their tattered relationships.

  Before Oprah.

  Oprah had done a special on OWN on black love and featured us. It had aired just over a year ago and the next thing we knew, our lives had changed drastically. We were already a big success with a loyal black following, but Oprah gave us universal exposure and catapulted us into a whole other stratosphere. We’d built on Oprah’s magic touch because we were good at what we did—getting couples to right what was wrong in their relationships. So I couldn’t figure out why in the world we couldn’t work out our own problems.

  “These are all the people who bought the VIP package for the retreat,” Lori said. “Which, by the way, is completely sold out,” she said as she guided us around to a back door.

  Jay and I made our way inside the room and over to our table, and for once, I was grateful that this was a straight book signing and not a discussion. Jay’s words had hurt me to my core and it was going to be hard enough to smile in each of these people’s faces.

  Jay and I took our seats and immediately began signing books as Lori kept the line moving. She was great at keeping talking to a minimum.

  I was shocked at the number of people here for the VIP signing. Our team had been dumbfounded when we’d learned registration had reached twelve hundred people for the retreat in the first three days. Then, a week later, the Family First Foundation had come on board to sponsor the event, cutting the cost of the retreat in half for any couple wanting to attend. When that announcement hit, the applications started pouring in. We’d had to find another venue because we had initially only planned for about seven hundred; now, more than three thousand people were attending. That was the only reason I’d agreed to move forward with this. I didn’t want to disappoint all of these people.

  A leggy, brown-haired beauty stopped in front of our table. I couldn’t help but marvel at her dang-near perfect body. She looked like she had just stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine. “Hi, can you sign my book?” she asked.

  Jay kept stealing glances at the woman. He had an expression I couldn’t make out and I was all prepared to give him a No, you didn’t look, but my anxiety was eased when the woman stepped right past Jay and in front of me.

  “Please make it out to Vonda,” she told me. “I really admire you. You’re such a strong woman. I’m in a relationship myself, but sometimes I get so frustrated with him. So I just applaud how you hold it all together.”

  If you only knew, I wanted to say.

  “Well, frustrations are only natural,” I said as I opened the book up to the title page. “But if he treats you right and you love him, you hang in there.” I scribbled my name and my standard “Best Wishes” message.

  “Oh, I love him, from the bottom of my heart,” Vonda said with a smile. “But sometimes I just don’t know if he really loves me.”

  “Well, saying and doing are two different things,” I said, handing her the book. “If he loves you, he’ll show you with his actions, not just his words.”

  “You know, you have a point. I can see why you’re the best at what you do. That’s what I need to tell him. He needs to stop talking about how much he loves me and show me,” she declared.

  “I’m sorry, we have to keep the line moving,” Lori said, gently tapping Vonda’s shoulder.

  Vonda flashed a picturesque smile as she squeezed the book to her chest. “Thank you so much, Dr. Shannon. You just don’t know how much I need this book. And it’s obvious that you know the secret to happiness. After I read this, I hope that I’ll know it too.”

  She dropped the book into her bag, not bothering to get Jay’s signature before strutting away.

  five

  This hotel suite was the stuff architecture magazines were made of. The open concept with floor-to-ceiling windows gave us a panoramic view of the island. There were two private balconies, one of which overlooked a heated lap pool.

  I made my way into the bathroom, where I removed my clothes and stepped into the shower. As the steaming water from the imported double shower head sprayed my back, I reflected on my relationship.

  The way that we were now hurt my heart something fierce. When we first started dating, after the charity auction, I had been a psychiatrist with a thriving practice, a book deal, and family money. Since Jay had lost most of his money over the years, I had been the breadwinner, and had no problem doing so, because Jay worked hard. And now his income rivaled mine.

  We’d had a whirlwind romance for a little over a year and a half before Jay popped the question. An elaborate proposal on a Bravo television special had been followed by a beautiful wedding at Trunk Bay Beach on Saint John, in the Virgin Islands—which was why the idea of returning here for the retreat tugged at my heart. I had no desire to go back to the place where I had said “I do” after my husband had made it clear that “he didn’t.”

  For the first two years of our marriage, everything was wonderful. Jay was loving and attentive, and showered me with affection. But somehow, somewhere along the line, my desire to be a mother had overtaken my desire to be a wife.

  I just wished Jay could get that. Or that I could get over my resentment. I had done my research. He was right that the vasectomy could be reversed, but not until he decided he wanted it. So even if I could get over him having the vasectomy behind my back in the first place, the fact that he still didn’t want kids was causing me immeasurable pain.

  I sighed as I turned off the steaming hot water and stepped out of the shower. As I glanced at my reflection in the bathroom, the words that I often said to my patients popped into my head: Anger benefits no one. I could never forget what Jay had done, but maybe I could forgive him and move past this anger, because it only seemed to be suffocating me. I’d started having constant headaches, and I was sure it was because I was in a perpetual state of anger.

  “Don’t be afraid to make the first move. Go talk to him so you can heal,” I said, staring at my reflection. That was what I’d told a listener recently, so why was it so hard for me to take my own advice? I knew the answer. Jay and I argued. We didn’t talk. And we dang sure didn’t listen.

  I dried off; then, just as I was reaching for my flannel pajama pants and tank top, I changed my mind and instead opted for a long silk tiger-print gown. I couldn’t remember the last
time that I’d worn it and didn’t even know why I’d brought it. Before I’d discovered the affair, Jay and I had sex once every few weeks, but it had definitely lost the spark that it used to have.

  Maybe him seeing me in this would remind him of what he’d tossed aside. Maybe it could help me move past the anger if I could see that he still felt something for me, even if nothing ever came of it.

  I slipped the gown on, pinned up my curly brown hair, and sprayed on Donna Karan’s Cashmere Mist perfume. It used to drive Jay wild. I thought about stepping into a sexy thong but decided wearing nothing was better. I didn’t know why. I didn’t want to be intimate with Jay. I just needed to know if he was still attracted to me.

  We were sharing the penthouse suite, only he was in the smaller connecting bedroom.

  I made my way out into the living area and saw Jay sitting, staring at the television. He looked deep in thought.

  He glanced up when he saw me enter and a glimmer of excitement passed through his eyes. But just as quickly as it had come, it was gone.

  “I was, um, just wondering, well, I just wanted to say… things don’t have to be ugly between us.” I sighed. “We’ve both said some pretty foul things and we’re mature enough not to end like that.”

  His eyes roamed up and down my body. “You… you look beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” I said, running my hands along the silky fabric. I fought to keep the smile inside from coming out. “I just decided I don’t wear this enough.”

  He nodded as anticipation filled his eyes. He licked his lips and I couldn’t help but notice the rising bulge in his pants.

  “Jay,” I said, but before I could finish my sentence, he stood and pulled me to him, kissing me like he was trying to touch my soul. I was rigid at first, but within seconds, my body relaxed and I returned his passion.

  I didn’t want to kiss this man, this cheater.

  I didn’t want my body to respond to his touch.

  And I damn sure didn’t want to enjoy the feeling that was running through my body.

  But in that moment, what my mind wanted didn’t matter.

  Jay took my hand and led me toward my bedroom. He removed one strap of my gown as he kissed my neck. He eased the negligee completely off as he took my breast in his mouth. He used his fingers to massage my back and all anger and bitterness dissipated and I felt the overwhelming need to lose myself in him.

  “I… I missed this,” he moaned as he pulled my naked body to his.

  My mouth couldn’t find his fast enough, but once it did, it was as if I couldn’t get enough.

  I tore away his clothes as he pushed me against the dresser, and within seconds, I lost myself in the pleasure that was his body. His steel-tight chest was hard, as was the part I most craved. My fingers explored him as if I was trying to discover new places. But it was all familiar. All wonderful. All that I needed.

  Jay was the best when it came to foreplay. He always wanted to please me. But today, no preamble was necessary. He eased out of his boxers as he continued to caress my body with his tongue. My veins thrummed in anticipation. When we united, our joy was instant.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  Rising from the dresser, Jay carried my 150-pound frame as if I were light as air. Without disconnecting, he laid me on the bed and we sought new pleasure.

  Right now, all I could think about was the bliss that was overtaking my body. Ecstasy blanketed me, filling me with sensations that made me pray that we could stay right in this place forever.

  I moaned.

  He cried out.

  Together, we created a chorus that rivaled any award-winning music.

  When it was over, I snuggled close to Jay’s chest and immediately felt him tense up again. I looked up to see him once again deep in thought.

  “A penny for your thoughts,” I said through my bliss.

  He gently pushed me off him, sat up, and flipped on the lamp next to the nightstand. “I’m sorry,” he began. His words were heavy and a mist covered his eyes.

  I sat straight up, as a sickening feeling started building in my stomach. “Sorry for what?”

  He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. “For this. It shouldn’t have happened.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, taking in his beautiful naked body. “I think it was long overdue. We’re still married and both have needs.”

  He stepped into his underwear as he shook his head. “No, it shouldn’t have happened.”

  I pulled the down comforter up to my chest but didn’t say a word.

  He ran his hands over his close-cropped hair, sighed heavily, then said, “You made it clear that you want a divorce. We’re here to get through this week, collect our money, and go our separate ways. This”—he motioned between us—“is only going to complicate things.”

  It felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer and hit me in the stomach. I had followed my heart when my head knew better, and now I was paying the price.

  “Is it her?” I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. “You feel bad about sleeping with me because of her?”

  He bit his bottom lip, as I had learned long ago that he did when something pained him.

  When he didn’t reply, I felt like I wanted to throw up. This was just as painful as the moment I found out about the affair.

  “It’s not about her…. She’s irrelevant. It’s just… I’m sorry,” he said.

  I struggled to find my words. Finally I inhaled, then exhaled my next words. “Look, it was just sex. It meant nothing. Thank you. Please turn the light off on your way out.” I lay down and pulled the covers up over me so he couldn’t see my tears as he left.

  six

  The previous night had been the longest, hardest night of my life. I had finally cried myself to sleep about 5 a.m. I didn’t know how I was going to make it through this first session today. I didn’t want Jay to think that his declaration had crippled me, so I had to put on my game face.

  “Good morning,” Nicole said as I walked into the greenroom at the convention center.

  “Good morning,” I mumbled. I didn’t bother removing my oversized Privé sunglasses.

  “Ooooh, somebody hasn’t had their java this morning,” Nicole joked.

  I dropped my Gucci bag in the swivel chair in the corner and headed over to the coffee station. Not that Folgers Black Silk coffee was going to help me this morning, but I wanted to feel the warmth of the liquid anyway.

  Nicole ignored me and continued mindlessly chirping away. “… so we will tape most of the workshops today. The producer from Netflix needs all the footage for the documentary.”

  I was just about to say something when the door to the studio swung open. Jay walked in, followed by Quincy, our business manager. Jay stopped and his eyes briefly met mine before he looked away.

  “Hey, Shannon,” Quincy said, walking over and kissing me lightly on the cheek. He did the same to Nicole.

  “What’s going on, Quincy? You here to do some last-minute legal stuff?” Nicole asked, handing us our day’s itinerary.

  Quincy looked at Jay and shrugged. “To be perfectly honest, I’m not quite sure why I’m here. Jay called and asked me to be here this morning. And, well, when Jay calls, I come.”

  I removed my sunglasses and glared at my husband.

  “So do you want to tell me why I’ve been summoned?” Quincy asked. He glanced at his watch like he was on a serious schedule.

  “Do I need to leave?” Nicole asked, finally noticing the tension in the room.

  “No,” I quickly spoke up. Although Quincy was both of our managers, he’d been Jay’s friend first. I needed a friend on my side for whatever this was that Jay was about to blindside me with.

  “Stay,” I added.

  “Somebody want to tell me what’s going on?” Quincy asked, a wave of anxiety crossing his face. Quincy was about the bottom line, and anything that was affecting our business bottom line was cause for concern. He’d ne
arly passed out when we’d told him that we were divorcing. And then he’d run down all that we stood to lose financially. I knew he was holding out hope that we would reconcile.

  Neither Jay nor I said a word.

  “Yeah, Jay, what’s going on?” I finally said. “You summoned, so don’t act like you’re Silent Sam now.”

  Quincy looked back and forth between the two of us. “Look guys, we have a convention center full of people out there preparing to have the time of their lives. I get it, your relationship can’t be healed, but you are amazing at healing others. So for the next five days, that’s what you guys will be doing. I thought we were all on the same page with that.”

  My imagination started running wild. I envisioned Jay telling us all that he was about to marry his mistress. That she was pregnant. Maybe that was why he felt guilty about sleeping with me. Some kind of way, his vasectomy didn’t take and his mistress was pregnant. The thought made me physically ill.

  “Relax,” Jay said. “Quincy is here because I want to make sure we’re all aligned.”

  I felt an instant flash of relief.

  “I’m confused,” Quincy said. “I thought we worked all of this out before coming to the Virgin Islands.”

  “We did. But”—his eyes met mine—“I just don’t want there to be any confusion. Shannon… well, my wife has a vindictive streak, and I just wanted Quincy to remind everyone what’s at stake with this conference.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I asked. “Let me guess: you don’t want me to tell all your adoring fans that you’re leaving me for another woman.”

  “I am not leaving you for another woman.” He turned to Quincy. “See, this is exactly what I’m talking about. I don’t want her ruining my reputation with lies.”

  “Where’s the lie? Did you or did you not make love to me last night and then tell me you were in love with someone else?”

  “No, I did not.” He didn’t bother to mask his irritation, but I didn’t care. This whole situation had me beyond irritated.