Teresa D. Patterson

***DISCLAIMER***

This excerpt may contain strong language and/or adult content. Please read at your own discretion.

Chapter One

Greta Stevenson groaned as she reluctantly pushed herself into a sitting position on the couch. She wanted to continue lounging, but the three baskets of dirty laundry glared at her. She wished she could wave a magic wand and make them float into the trunk of her car.

Those liars, she fumed. They told me my shit would be working by Tuesday. Now, here it is damn near two weeks later and my washer and dryer are still on the blink. That’s why I detest living in apartment complexes. The trifling maintenance personnel never fix jack. And when they do—the crap still doesn’t work.

She couldn’t wait until she signed the lease on her four-bedroom home in south Saint Petersburg. Her new house would be located on Pinellas Point Drive, known as The Point. Quite a few of the famed and the elite purchased homes in that area. She’d worked hard to earn her bread and butter and finally it all seemed worth it. She looked forward to leaving the apartment behind that she had shared with her deceased husband, Gerald, and start anew.

She sighed as she picked up one of the baskets of clothes. Thinking about Gerald always put her in a melancholy mood. She shook him out of her memory and concentrated on something else.

She was tired. She didn’t get home from work until almost seven that evening. She had to play taxi cab driver for two of her students. Their trifling parents hadn’t bothered to show up to get them after detention ended. That wasn’t right. She couldn’t understand why some people didn’t just burn their damn tubes and not have children. Everyone wasn’t cut out to be parents.

She couldn’t stand smart aleck kids who didn’t know the meaning of the word respect. However, she didn’t fault the child. She blamed the parent for not teaching them manners.

Greta had been teaching for fifteen years and her nerves were at the breaking point. She had just about enough of dealing with other people’s demon seed. It might be time for a career change.

Take today, for instance, she had to stay late because two wanna-be-thugs thought it was cute to practice rolling blunts with their notebook paper. Not in her classroom. She sent a letter home to their parents and received no response. She followed up with a phone call. One of the boy’s mothers had been downright rude. She gave Greta a piece of her mind for disturbing her. She pretty much stated that she could care less about her child’s behavior. Her exact words had been, I don’t give a fuck about what he do at school, as long as he don’t do it at home. Talking to the other boy’s father had been like talking to Forest Gump. The brother had been off in the ozone layer or something. She had no choice but to assign the two children an after school detention, hoping that would convince them of their wrong-doing.

Then, there was that little foul mouth heifer that made her blood pressure rise. Little Miss I’m America’s Next Top Model came to school with her breasts on display. Greta advised her to put on a jacket and Miss Too Grown for My Own Good got an attitude and told Greta to kiss her ass.

Greta was known for being a no-nonsense type of teacher that didn’t take crap off the children. That’s how she’d persevered for so many years. You had to have patience, guts and a backbone to be around hardheaded, wayward teens all day, damn near every day, for so long. Not too many of her students tried her because they knew that she didn’t play the radio when it came to her classroom.

For some reason, Miss Pumps and a Bump stepped over the boundaries. Greta had to count to ten and it took the patience of Job to hold herself back. She almost came across her desk and rolled the girl’s head around like she was on the Exorcist.

The new principal just so happened to be sitting in the classroom that morning and had sent the Stripper in Training to the office. It was a good thing too because Greta would have probably lost her job and caught a charge on the same day if he hadn’t intervened.

Greta finished putting the last basket of clothes into the car and shut the door. She wasn’t looking forward to the visit to the Laundromat up the street. Some unsavory characters hung around the facility. Since it was opened twenty-four seven, the homeless saw fit to loiter there whenever they got the urge.

Surprisingly, when she pulled up she found the place empty.

Good. I won’t have to keep looking over my shoulder, she thought. It was semi-dark, and a single woman always had to be cautious.

After she arrived home, took a shower, and cooked dinner, she sorted the clothes. If only she’d gotten home earlier, she’d be done with the laundry by now.

The clock on the wall ticked. It was eight thirty. It should take her no more than an hour and a half, two hours tops to wash and dry all of her clothes. She threw them into vacant washing machines, poured in detergent, and added coins to begin the wash cycle.

The washing machines hummed and she sat down and began grading papers. She heard someone enter, but didn’t look up.

Damn. There goes my concentration.

“Mrs. Stevenson, fancy seeing you here,” someone called out. She looked up into the face of Principal Austin Johnson.

“Hello Dr. Johnson,” she greeted politely. She saw him struggling to pull a large container of clothes inside. She put her folders on the seat next to her and went over to hold the door opened for him.

“Thank you,” he said.

“No problem. So, what brings you here?” she asked.

“I guess the same thing that brings you here,” he replied, pointing at his clothes. “Dirty laundry.” The two chuckled.

Greta sat back down and discreetly surveyed Mr. Johnson as he went about the business of putting his clothes into the washing machine.

Mr. Johnson was the new principal of the middle school where she taught. She didn’t really know much about him, just what she’d heard. He’d graduated from Northeast High School and had enlisted in the Army. There he’d served a four year term and came back to teach children. He’d been a juvenile justice counselor, a teacher at the recreational center, an assistant principal at one of the elementary schools, now he was the principal of the middle school.

She heard that he’d been married but got divorced. She wondered if he were dating anybody. She watched as he poured entirely too much detergent into the machine.

She thought, a man that fine should not be doing his own laundry. I’d hand wash his drawers. Damn.

Austin glanced her way and their eyes locked. Greta swallowed. Hell, I hope he can’t read my thoughts. Shoot, then again, I hope he can.

“So, you almost went postal on that kid today, huh?” he said, smiling as he closed the lid on the washer. He had perfect white teeth and dimples. Standing at about six feet four, he was a tall refreshing drink of water. Greta’s throat suddenly became parched.

“At times, it gets hard to brace myself. But, I’d never lay a hand on a student,” she answered.

“Sure you wouldn’t. I know you envision shaking one of ‘em like a bobble head doll, though,” he joked. “I have those moments,” he admitted. “Especially being the new principal of a fundamental school. Whew.”

“I can’t even begin to feel your pain, brother,” she sympathized.

She got up to check her clothes. They’d stopped so she began taking them out of the machine.

After she’d gotten out of the shower she threw on one of her hoochie mama skirts. Just because she was a teacher didn’t mean at home she had to dress like a nun. As she bent over, unknown to her, the cheerleader skirt rose in the back. That got Mr. Johnson’s attention.

“Um-” he cleared his throat. “You know, red is my favorite color.”

“Excuse me?” she quipped, turning to stare at him innocently.

“I said, red is my favorite color. You’re wearing the hell out of them thongs,” he boldly stated. You’re about to make a brother burst at the seams.”

“Dr. Johnson.” Greta blushed. “I am so sorry. I had no idea.” She straightened up immediately, pulling self-consciously at the skirt’s hem.

The thought that he’d been drooling at her ass cheeks turned her on. Hell, she knew that her body was together. She worked out three nights a week to keep everything toned to perfection. She wasn’t about to the let the fact that she was pushing up on forty keep her from feeling and being sexy. If the truth were told, she looked better now than she had when she was in her mid twenties. She had rock hard abs, a slim twenty-four inch waist, a banging set of tits and a tight ass. To top it off, she was easy on the eyes. Her mocha colored skin was flawless and make-up free. She had a set of Angelina Jolie type lips that made a brother think dirty thoughts.

None of this went unnoticed by Austin. As Greta went to put her laundry into dryers, he watched. His member grew harder than a slab of concrete, the imprint straining against the front of his pants.

Since he’d made the comment about her thongs, she wouldn’t look his way. Austin hadn’t played the aggressive role in a minute. He didn’t have to. Women threw themselves at him on a regular basis. Even some of the teachers, the ones who got paid to teach the future generation, were nothing but sluts. That’s how he ended up divorced. He’d been too worn out from screwing all the teachers, and hadn’t been able to get it up for his wife. That got old and she left him. He wasn’t mad at her though. If the roles had been reversed, he would have done the same thing.

Mrs. Stevenson, he couldn’t quite figure her out. He’d been at the new school for almost three months and she hadn’t given him a second glance. He’d pulled her file and did some research. He couldn’t complain about her track record as a teacher. She was excellent in her field and he could tell she genuinely cared about the children. He saw it in her interactions with them in the hallway and from the glimpse he’d gotten sitting in her classroom.

She wasn’t married. As far as he knew, she didn’t have a man in her life.

So, what’s the deal? he wondered. He hoped she did like men. Was that it? Maybe she liked fish instead of beef.

He was going to find out. If she swayed the other way, that was her prerogative. It would just be a damned shame for all that fineness to be wasted like that, though.

He stood up to check the washer then he turned toward her, breaking the silence. “If I offended you, I apologize,” he said.

Greta had her back turned attempting to compose herself. She didn’t know why she was being betrayed by her body. Her swollen nipples strained against the thin blouse she wore as she pictured the two of them in some uncompromising positions. She bit the corner of her lip.

She had to control her emotions. She’d never before contemplated doing something so wild and reckless, but she wanted to let him ravish her. She needed to feel him buried deep inside her.

Her stomach churned at the thoughts. She turned toward him and smiled, pretending that he had no affect on her.

“I don’t get easily offended,” she said. Her traitorous eyes fell on his crotch. “Let’s just cut the bullshit, okay? I don’t mince my words. I say what I mean and mean what I say. What about you?”

Her heated gaze made his dick jump. So, she’s a dick bandit after all.

“I’m pretty much straight forward,” he answered.

“You want to fuck me, don’t you?” she asked.

“Hell yes. Now, that’s what I’m talking about.”

“As long as it doesn’t get out, I’m down with it. But, I want to make one thing clear: I don’t mix business with pleasure.” She looked him straight in the eye. “This will be a one-time occurrence. Got that?”

What the fuck ever.

He called the shots. If he wanted another piece of ass after he’d test driven it, he’d get another piece. “Yeah, if that’s the way you want it,” he said, unblinking.

Greta stared as the bulge in the front of his pants grew. It rose and stirred like a trapped anaconda. The right thing for her to do would be to release the beast. That’s exactly what she did.

His large dick sprang forward, leaping at her like a jack in the box. It was long and beautiful. It had both depth and width. Just the sight of it made her mouth water. But, she wasn’t going there, not with him. The brother could get his dick sucked by somebody else. It wasn’t like he couldn’t find a number of women to do it.

She would show Principal Johnson that she wasn’t about playing games. If he wanted to fuck, that’s what she would do. No extra side items were on the menu, just pure pussy.

“My place is right around the corner. You can either follow me in your car, or we can take mine. I’ll drop you back off,” she suggested, stroking him with one hand as she spoke.

A moan escaped his lips. He was about to pop and didn’t want to wait. He looked her over suggestively. “What’s wrong with right here?”

“You mean, in the Laundromat? Where anyone can walk in? I don’t know-”

Before she could finish the sentence, he lifted her up onto one of the washing machines. “Learn to step outside the box, Mrs. Stevenson. Spontaneity will keep a man coming back.”

Greta could feel the motion of the machine as it switched to the spin cycle. When it started to swirl around, the whole machine trembled. Austin eased on a condom then spread her legs. The little skirt she wore allowed easy access. He wasted no time, pulling her panties to the side and surging into her.

She inhaled from the first feel of him. She felt stretched to the max; it had been so long. He continued to stroke in and out until she loosened up. She moaned and gripped the coin slot on the machine and held on for life. As the machine bounced, she bounced. The more she bounced the deeper he plunged.

“Oh, Dr. Johnson,” she screamed, feeling her muscles clench and unclench. “I’m cumming. I’m cumming.”

“Mrs. Stevenson,” he answered. He could feel her vaginal muscles pulsating and contracting. She was so wet and tight it amazed him. He bucked harder.

She felt delirious and couldn’t control the words that flew out of her mouth. “Dr. Johnson, fuck this pussy. Fuck it. Fuck it.”

“You want me to beat it up? Huh? I’ll beat that pussy up real good. Turn that fine ass around,” he commanded.

Greta didn’t know how she ended up on the folding table, but she was beyond caring. All she knew was that she’d been craving sex for a long time, and now she was getting what she needed.

As he pounded her from the back, he grabbed a hand full of her hair and pulled.

“Damn. That shit feels so good,” she said. She’d never had a man pull her hair. Chills raced through her entire body.

“I’mma wax this ass,” he panted.

“Wax it.”

She threw her ass back at him. He plunged into her. She paused just momentarily and clenched her vaginal muscles. Then she released them. She continued to do that until she had him just where she wanted him. She milked him until he couldn’t do anything but scream.

“Shit.” He throbbed then spurted like a volcano. She could feel the hotness of his jism inside the condom.

Gteta wanted to cum again so badly that her stomach muscles ached. She wrapped her legs around his waist, trying to keep him inside her.

Austin pulled out. He was trying to call the shots. She knew that game. Even as her thigh muscles trembled from restraint, she wouldn’t give him the upper hand.

He adjusted his trousers as he stood back and stared at her in satisfaction. “Mrs. Stevenson, you’ve made it to the top of the Principal’s List. You get straight A’s.” He smiled, cockily. He zipped up his pants and turned to watch as Greta fixed her clothes. Even though she had been a real good lay, there was something different about her. He knew he’d definitely be getting into those panties again. He’d purposefully pushed her to the edge, but pulled back right when she’d been close to bursting.

He knew women hated that, but it worked. She could act like she didn’t know what time it was, but he was the keeper of the time clock. He and Mrs. Stevenson would meet up again for round two. He just had to play his cards right.

Chapter Two

After Greta showered she put her clean clothes away. She believed firmly that everything had its proper perspective. Only dirty clothes belonged in laundry baskets. Clean clothes should be folded and placed in drawers, or hung in closets.

She tried to clear her mind of all thoughts of Mr. Johnson. She’d just as soon forget anyway. The man was off limits. He was the principal of the school where she worked, for Pete’s sake.

She couldn’t believe she’d let her hormones get the best of her. She’d acted like a horny teenager on prom night. She didn’t know how she would be able to look Mr. Johnson in the eye after their heated encounter.

Damn, the sex had been off the chain. She hadn’t been pounded like that in years. She’d been experiencing a dry spell so long that it had been almost turned into a draught. She’d needed that stress relief.

But, did she have to do it in a Laundromat …and with the principal? A bitch was acting like she hadn’t been raised right. She had changed into a low moral skank because the sight of her panties turned a man on.

She heard her great grandmother’s voice inside her head. “Satan, that’s what it is. That’s just the devil. Plain and simple.”

She was weak in the flesh. She’d have to go to church on Sunday just to purge herself. Hell, after what she’d let happen, they needed to pull out the holy water and the crucifix.

“What the hell was I thinking?” she wondered aloud. “It won’t happen again.” But the tingling in her lower extremities from just thinking about Austin said otherwise.

Her cell phone beeped three times indicating that she had a text message. She picked it up.

Mrs. Stevenson, will you please meet me in my office first thing in the morning? she read. It was from Principal Johnson. What the hell was he up to? Hadn’t she told him that what happened between them wouldn’t happen again? She’d be damned if she showed up.

The phone beeped again. Don’t even think about not showing up it said.

She sighed. Tomorrow would be a long day.

Greta had just gotten deeply engrossed in a book by Chamsil. She was damn near about to touch herself under the covers when her home phone rang.

“Shit!” She put the book aside and grabbed the cordless.

“This had better not be a damn booty call,” she snapped. All of her acquaintances knew she didn’t accept any calls of that nature.

“Calm down Miss Lady. I just wanted to holla at you. You are one hard person to catch up with. I stopped by your apartment, but you weren’t there.” It was Larry, one of her co-workers, another teacher.

“I had to go do laundry.”

“Oh, really? They still didn’t fix your shit, huh?”

“Hell no and I’m about ready to tell them motherfuckers about themselves. This shit is ridiculous.”

“I feel you.”

“So, what are you up to Larry?”

“I just finished grading some papers. Half my students don’t know simple math. What the fuck kind of shit is that?”

“They’d rather be parked in front of a PlayStation or watching music videos instead of studying math.”

“I know that’s right,” he agreed. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you, what’s your take on our new principal?”

Greta damn near dropped the phone. “U-Um, he’s nice, I guess,” she managed to say. “What about you?”

“I think he’s a sneaky motherfucker. But, that’s just my opinion.”

“Larry, do I detect a hint of jealousy?” she asked.

“Hell to the nah. Personally, I think I got the brotha beat. I mean, I’m a handsome ass motherfucker. Shit, I got abs and arms that would make “The Rock” jealous. Granted, I don’t drive a sporty ass BMW like Mr. Johnson, but I got a nice whip. He gets drawers thrown at him daily, but so do I.”

Greta laughed. “You are a mess. Is that all you think about every day? You’re supposed to be teaching, remember?”

“I do teach. I teach math all day to my students. But, at night, it’s Love Making 101. You need to sign up for the class.”

“Larry, you already know how I feel about mixing business with pleasure.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said dryly.

“Well, I’m going to turn in Larry. I have to meet Mr. Johnson in his office early in the morning.”

“What do that nigga want?”

“I have no idea,” she answered truthfully.

“Well, be careful. I heard that he’s already had a few teachers bent over that desk. But, I know you can handle your business.”

“Good night Larry.”

“Good night.”

For some reason the thought of another teacher bent over Mr. Johnson’s desk annoyed her. She shook the thought and picked the book she’d been reading back up. However, her concentration was broken and all she could think of was riding Austin like a thoroughbred.

The next morning, Greta took a while choosing an outfit to wear. She finally dressed professionally in a two pieced, pinstriped pants suit. If Mr. Johnson tried to get at her stuff again, he’d have barriers to get through. She wasn’t giving in easily, even if she did want to.

She arrived at the school at little after seven o’clock. That would give them plenty of time to discuss whatever he had to talk about. The children weren’t supposed to arrive on the school’s grounds until 8:15, but she saw a few already sitting out front.

“Good morning,” she greeted. She always made it a point to speak to every child she encountered. You never knew just how much a smile or a kind word could make a child’s day.

“Hey, Mrs. Stevenson.” It was Jamisha, the student who’d been dressed inappropriately and had came out the mouth wrong with her the day before. An older woman with a two-toned hairdo stood next to her, frowning deeply.

“Lord, please don’t let my morning start off with a ghetto-style brawl,” she prayed silently. She didn’t want to come up out her high heels and use one. But, she would if she had to.

“Hi Jamisha. How are you, this morning?” Jamisha rolled her eyes. “And how are you?” she greeted the woman.

“I’m jus’ fine. I’m Ms. Bethune. Jamisha’s mama. Now, Misha tells me dat you sent her out ya class ‘cause of what she was wearin’ yesterday. I wanna know what she had on.”

“I already tol’ you Mama,” Jamisha whined.

“Shut ya mouth girl. I am talkin’ to ya teacher,” Ms. Bethune hissed.

“Well, she had on a half shirt. The school’s policy informs that tank tops or half shirts aren’t allowed. Had she put a jacket on, I wouldn’t have sent her out of the classroom. It’s just that, wearing something so revealing can be distracting to the other students” she explained to the obviously irate woman who stood glaring at her.

The woman’s neck turned so fast Gerta thought she might have caused whiplash. “A fuckin’ half shirt?” she yelled at her daughter. “What da fuck you come up in school wearin’ some shit like dat fuh?” The mama chastised, apparently upset.

“Mama, I’ll wear whatever I wanna wear.”

“See, you lucky dis teacher standin’ here. ‘Cause if she wasn’t, I’d beat ya ass down where you stand! I ain’t raisin’ no damn tramp. You supposed to wear the clothes that I buy fuh ya ass!.I didn’t buy no fuckin’ half shirts.”

“I didn’t say you did.” Jamisha sucked air through her teeth and rolled her eyes again.

“Gurl!” Ms. Bethune drew back her hand and that’s when Greta felt it was best to intervene.

“Ms. Bethune, don’t.” She quickly stepped between mother and daughter. “Obviously there’s a communication break down between yourself and your daughter. However, getting upset in public is never a good idea. Perhaps it’s best that you discuss this private matter at home,” she suggested.

“Ain’t nothin’ to discuss. She gonna do what da fuck I say do. She gonna go to school to learn and not to pick up nasty ass boys. All dey want is what’s between ya legs anyways.” She pushed her daughter’s forehand with her index finger.

“Mama.”

“Don’t mama me. Shit, how da hell you think I gots five kids now? Men tell one lie afta a fuckin’ nother one to get ya stuff. You don’t wanna have no kid. Raisin’ kids ain’t no damn joke. I’m tryin’ to keep you from goin’ thru the shit I go thru erry day.”

“You don’t go thru nothin’. I’m the one got to babysit all the time,” she grumbled. “Besides, I ain’t even doin’ nothin’,” she griped.

“And you won’t if I can help it. You got me comin’ up here all upset, ‘bout to go off on dis lady and all she tryin’ to do is tell you right from wrong.” She turned an apologetic look toward Greta. “My bad ma’am. Dis gurl is jus’ fast. Thank God the res’ of my kids is boys.”

Greta smiled slightly. She couldn’t fathom having five kids. Hell, she didn’t think she’d ever have that many unless she pushed out quintuplets.

“Ms. Bethune, I understand your concern. However, Jamisha is one of my most promising students.” Greta could see the girl’s eyes light up and the angry look left her face. “Do you know that she scored the highest in the whole classroom on the FCAT test in reading?”

“Nah, I didn’t know dat. Is dat so?” Her face seemed to lose some of its irritation.

“Yes, it certainly is. Jamisha is also an incredible writer. She’s extremely talented.”

“I knew she liked to write and thangs. She always readin’ too. I jus’ don’t like huh choice of books. Zane. Dat woman is too graphic. No teenager ain’t got no business readin’ dat. Now, myself, I like readin’ some Eric Jerome Dickey.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Sho nuff. I buy erry one of his books. He sho nuff can write for a man and he is fine too.” Her eyes narrowed as though she saw something she wanted really badly. “But not half as fine as dat nigga comin’ dis way.” She put her hands on her hip and just gawked. Girlfriend didn’t have any shame in her game.

Greta turned in the direction of her gaze. Principal Johnson. For a second her heart rate increased. She quickly composed herself.

“Good morning Principal Johnson,” she said calmly as he approached.

“Good morning ladies. How are you this fine morning?” The man was pure charismatic. It was plain to see that Ms. Bethune was smitten.

“You’re the principal?” Her eyes said, “Damn.”

“Yes, I am. And you are?”

“I’m Brenda Bethune, Jamisha’s mother.” The woman extended her hand.

Damn, look at how fast that bitch switched from ghetto queen to sophisticated lady, Greta thought dryly.

“Pleased to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Ms. Bethune drooled. “I was just speaking with Miss – er, I didn’t get your name.”

“Stevenson. Mrs. Stevenson,” she answered with a tight smile.

“I was just speaking with Mrs. Stevenson regarding Jamisha’s behavior yesterday. She was out of line and it definitely will not happen again. You have my word on that.”

“I’m happy to hear that Ms. Bethune. It takes a village,” he threw out the cliché with a dazzling smile.

“Well, I have to get to work. If there are any further problems, don’t hesitate to call me.” She stared directly at Mr. Johnson when she said the last part.

“You have a good day ma’am.” He was just eating up the attention while Greta silently burned with annoyance.

“You too,” she purred. “Oh, and you too,” she added for Greta’s sake.

Bitch please.

“You do the same.” Greta wanted to roll her eyes, but she just smiled sweetly.

“Mrs. Stevenson, I’ll be ready to meet with you in a minute. If you want, you can wait for me in my office. I have to make my rounds.”

He showed no indication that he had anything but business on his mind. It was as though yesterday evening had never occurred. For some reason, Greta felt slightly disappointed.

“I’ll put on the coffee,” she said, walking off briskly.

It was 8:20 when Principal Johnson walked into the office. Greta had made the coffee and was sipping from a cup of the hot steamy liquid she held in her hands.

“Good morning again, Mrs. Stevenson,” he said, depositing his fine frame behind the desk. “I have a proposition for you,” he leaned toward her and she noticed the gleam in his eyes.

“Here we go,” she mumbled under her breath.

“I’ve been checking you out for quite some time.”

Is this bitch a stalker?

“I see that you’ve been teaching for fifteen years. That’s quite a while.”

“Um...teaching?” she asked, hesitantly.

“Yes, you’ve been a teacher for fifteen years, right?”

“Oh, yes. Yes. I have.”

So, where is he going with this?

“That’s remarkable. It requires strength and dedication. You obviously have both.”

“This really is a business meeting?” The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it.

Mr. Johnson smirked. “What did you think it would be? Contrary to popular belief, I don’t bend women over my desk on the state’s time. I have a job to do and that’s what I aim to do. This school is suffering and I’m going to make sure that there’s a noticeable improvement in the upcoming months. I don’t play when it comes to children and education.” He lifted a file from his desk. “And from what I’ve read, you don’t either. That’s why I have an offer for you.”

Now Greta’s interest was peaked. “What?”

“Unfortunately, Mrs. Niles will no longer be the assistant principal, for reasons I don’t care to disclose at this moment. She’ll be leaving at the end of this month. Therefore, there will be a vacancy.” He paused and stared at her intensely. “I’d like for you to fill it.”

Greta’s mouth dropped. Surprised couldn’t even describe what she felt. She had no idea what Mr. Johnson wanted from her. This was totally unexpected.

“Ma’am, you may want to close your mouth. We wouldn’t want a fly to land in there,” he joked.

She cleared her throat. It took a minute to pull it together. But, it wasn’t long before she was once again the professional, debonair woman who radiated confidence.

“Mr. Johnson, I appreciate your offer. I’ll think it over and get back with you. When do you need a decision?”

“I was pushing for one by the next PSTA meeting. That will give you two weeks time.”

“Thank you. I’m sure I’ll be able to let you know something before then.”

“Thank you for your time, Mrs. Stevenson.”

“You’re welcome.” Their eyes met and she was the first to look away. She cleared her throat. “Well, if that’s all, I’ll be heading to the classroom.”

“Yes, that’s all I can think of.” She got up to leave. He waited until she made it to the door. “Oh— Mrs. Stevenson?” She turned just in time to catch the glint in his eyes. “Thanks for last night,” he said lowly. “I’ll never dread doing laundry again.” She blushed and quickly left his office.

Chapter Three

Greta sat grading papers as usual. She wanted to be finished by nine because “Criminal Minds” which featured that fine actor, Shemar Moore would be coming on. She knew there was no chance in hell of her ever meeting the man but every opportunity she got she drooled over him like a damn groupie.

Of course her phone had to ring. It seemed like every time she got busy, it began ringing off the hook.

“Hello?”

“Hey Girl. What you doin’?” It was Cindy, her oldest and dearest friend. Cindy was a straight up trip and she always enjoyed talking with her.

“Grading papers. What else.”

“Girl, why don’t you throw them damn papers to the side and hang out wit’ me tonight?”

“Hang out where? Child, now you know I don’t set foot in these ghetto-fied, dirty foot clubs in St. Pete.”

“Are you implyin’ that I do, skank? “

“Nah, girl! I was just saying.” They both laughed.

“Let me finish. I’ve been chattin’ wit’ this nigga on MySpace and now we’re supposed to meet up. But, I don’t wanna meet him by myself.”

“Have you lost your fucking mind? What the hell are you doing wasting time on MySpace? Your ass is supposed to be working, not playing around on those people’s computer.” She knew that Cindy was on MySpace all the time because she checked MySpace from time to time from her laptop.

“The state can kiss my ass. They don’t pay me enough to entice me to become an exemplary employee. I stay on the computer: MySpace, BlackPlanet, Facebook, Match.com and Love@aol.com. I’m tryin’ to find another damn husband. Anyways, like I was sayin’. I wanna meet this nigga, but I don’t wanna go alone. You down or what? Oh, and the club is in Tampa, not slow, tired ass St. Pete.”

“What club?” Tampa had some raunchy clubs too.

“It’s the Blue Martini in International Plaza.”

“Oh, I like that club. It’s upscale and elite.”

“I knew yo’ bourgeois, snobbish ass would. So, you goin’ or what?” she asked again.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll go. I’m just not going to hang out all night. You know I have to be refreshed to teach a class full of kids.”

“Hell, dealin’ wit’ them crumb snatchers ought to drive you to drinkin’.”

“I know that’s right. So, what time you coming or should I drive?” She knew how Cindy got. The woman could drink any man she knew under the table. And talk about getting buck wild and turning a club out. Lord have mercy.

“I’m drivin’. I promise to stick to two drinks. I don’t wanna get too vulnerable. The guy might turn out to be an ax murder or somethin’ and I might have to drop kick that nigga in the throat.”

“Damn sis. You can take the bitch out the hood, but you can’t take the hood out the bitch.”

“And you know that shit,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’m Jordan Park projects in and out, all up and through.” They had both grown up in the projects known as Jordan Park and had been friends since attending Jordan Park Elementary.

“Should I bring my pepper spray, just in case?”

“That watered down shit. You might as well just poke a bitch in the eye with two fingers.” Greta heard a male’s voice in the background. She guessed that Cindy’s husband had arrived home. “I’ll be there between 9:30 and 10:00.”

“Make it ten. That’ll give me time to do something with my hair.”

“You betta throw on a wig or slap on a drawstring ponytail like I do.”

“I don’t do the ponytails and wigs look too fake.”

“Not the one I’m gonna wear.”

“Which one is that? You got so many,” she said sarcastically.

“Girl, I’m gonna pimp my Beverly Johnson, color #4, style Oprah,” she stated matter-of-factly.

She had Greta rolling on the floor. “You are a trip. Girl, I will see you when you get here. Let me got off this phone and finish up these papers so I can get ready.”

“Okay. And don’t call my ass in thirty minutes sayin’ you ain’t goin”, she warned.

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Alright then. Bye.”

“Bye.”

* * * * *

“This club had better be jumping. You made me miss the last half hour of Criminal Minds,” Greta told Cindy. They were just getting off the exit that would take them directly into International Plaza.

“You don’t care nothin’ ‘bout that show. You just watch it to see Shemar Moore. He be wearin’ the hell outta that FBI shirt and vest. That nigga is fione.”

“Mouth watering.”

“Tasty.”

“Scrumptious.”

“Damn, you makin’ me want some dick,” Cindy exclaimed.

“You got Greg at home. You shouldn’t ever be in need of dick.”

“Ple-ease. Why the hell you think I’m out here on the prowl? Greg has been havin’ a little malfunction problem as of late.”

“What? You mean his dick can’t get hard? Don’t lie.”

“I’m dead ass serious. And the muthafucka won’t go get a checkup. Talkin’ ‘bout his male pride.”

“Well, what about you? Doesn’t he care that he’s not able to satisfy you?”

Cindy shrugged her narrow shoulders. “Apparently not enough to get a checkup.”

“I know you want me to say that I understand. But, I don’t. Cheating is never an option when you’re married,” Greta said seriously.

“Bitch what the hell do you know?” She swung into a vacant parking space. “Your dried up ass need to get some damn dick. That shit is going to turn into the motherfucking Sahara.”

”How you know I didn’t get some?” Greta replied hotly, gathering her purse and checking her hair in the mirror. Her heartbeat increased just from remembering her heated night of passion with the principal. She wasn’t going to tell Cindy though.

“From who? You don’t even date. You stay locked in the house. You rarely go anywhere. When did you find time to meet anybody? At church?” She whirled around to stare into her face. “Don’t tell me you done fucked that fine ass pastor at ya church?”

“Girl, no. Don’t I wish.”

“Hell, I’d do him in a heartbeat. I bet he have all the women creamin’ in their panties every Sunday.”

“Now, you are going to hell for that one.” Greta shook her head, chuckling. “He is devoted to God and by the look of things, he’s going to stay that way.”

“Maybe he’s gay and is just hiding behind the church.”

“I don’t know. He was married before and has children. Maybe he had a bad experience and that’s what made him turn to God.”

“A bitch can do that to a brotha. We have some seriously deranged bitches in Da Burg, you hear me?” Cindy switched the car off and removed the keys from the ignition. “Well, this nigga better be here. Look for someone Hispanic, wearin’ a black shirt and beige slacks. He says he’ll have on a black Onyx ring.”

“That could be any damn body.”

“He’s about five eight, with a nice body. He claims to be a body builder.”

“Okay. Lead the way and I’ll follow. Didn’t he send you a picture?”

“Yeah, but that bitch was blurry.”

Greta just shook her head and followed Cindy into the club.

The club’s environment was more than satisfactory. On one side of the club they played hip-hop and they played reggaeton on the other side. Cindy got into it right away after ordering a drink. She found her way to the center of the dance floor and started dancing like Halle Berry in the movie BAPS.

Greta was content to stand off to the side and watch. She sipped on some Seagram’s and sprite. She saw a group of women crowded around a fine brother. From the way the women were carrying on, she figured he played for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. Members of the team frequented The Blue Martini.

Whoever the player was, he appeared to be bewildered and uncomfortable. It wasn’t long before he got up and left. The crowd of gold-diggers stood with their mouths wide open in shock.

“No he didn’t,” one of them said.

“He ain’t all that.”

“He must think his shit doesn’t stink.”

Greta found it all amusing. They needed to stop fronting. They were just mad because he wasn’t interested in any of them.

“Hey sexy,” someone breathed against her earlobe. “Can I refresh that drink?” She turned to see Larry standing there.

“Hey Larry,” she smiled and gave him a quick hug. “I would let you get me another one but I think this is going to be it for tonight.”

“You sure?”

Greta gazed out toward the dance floor and saw Cindy doing some stripper type dance. Where the hell had she learned that?

“I’m sure,” she said. “I may have to drive home.”

“Well, how about a dance later on?” Larry asked.

“I’ll think about it Lar,” she said politely. She didn’t want to turn him down flat. Larry was a nice guy. He was handsome, witty, and smart. She just didn’t want to get involved with him and she could tell that he was more than a little interested in her. Why lead him on?

“I hope your answer will be yes,” he said smoothly then walked off.

Greta put her empty glass onto the counter. A song by Akon and Snoop Dog blasted out the speakers and everybody in the club seemed to come alive. The dance floor went from semi-empty to overly-crowded in mere seconds.

“I see you windin’ and grindin’ up on that pole. And I see you lookin’ at me and you already know. I wanna fuck you.”

“What?” Greta couldn’t believe the lyrics blasting from the loud speakers. It seemed that the more vulgar the lyrics got, the more hype the crowd became. She knew there was a reason why she didn’t frequent nightclubs anymore.

People were gyrating, bumping, grinding and pulling it down. They were popping, twirking and shaking everything God and their mamas gave them. It was just too much for her system to handle.

“Hey. Greta!.I found him,” Cindy said breathlessly, pulling on the arm of a very attractive Hispanic guy. “This is my best friend Greta,” she introduced. “Greta, this is Diego.”

“Hello Diego.”

“Hello.” They nodded at each other politely.

“Diego, I’ll be right back.” Cindy said, and pulled Greta in the direction of the bathroom because they couldn’t carry on a conversation over the loud music.

“Girl, I gotta get wit’ this fine ass man,” she said. “He’s gonna follow us home.”

“What? You can’t take him to your place. Isn’t Greg home?”

“Yes Greg’s flat foot ass is home. I know I can’t take him there. I’m going to take you home and leave my car at your place. Then, me and Diego are leaving in his car and we gonna get a room.”

“Cindy. Why don’t you at least wait until you two go out a few times?” She hadn’t waited to let Austin Johnson hit it. Who was she to try to tell her friend how long to wait to give her stuff up?

“Fuck that. I’m horny. Shit, do you realize that I haven’t had any dick in damn near three months?”

“Shit!”

“I’m fuckin’ him. Period.”

“Okay,” Greta said lowly.

“So, are you ready to leave?” She checked her hair in the mirror and reapplied her lipstick.

“Sure. I might as well be.”

“Don’t have an attitude. You knew why I wanted to come here tonight,” she reminded.

Greta gave a reluctant nod. “Okay. It’s your business. Just be careful,” she finally said.

“I will. I got the Trojans and the Magnums- just in case.” She winked suggestively and Greta shook her head. “Now, let me get back to that fine motherfucker before some skank snatches him up.” They headed out of the ladies’ room. “Hey, isn’t that Larry?” Greta turned to look where Cindy pointed.

“Yeah, I spoke to him earlier. He wanted to get a dance before I left. I guess he’ll have to wait on that.”

“I don’t know why you don’t get wit’ him. He’d probably be good for you. Y’all have similar interests.”

“I don’t know. There’s just something about him that I can’t quite put my finger on.”

They rejoined Diego at the bar. Cindy slipped her arms around the lucky man. Greta could admit that Diego was quite handsome and even though small in stature, his body was chiseled.

As Greta, Cindy and her newfound friend left the club, Larry stared behind them. His face tightened and he got a strange look in his eye. Suddenly, he slammed the glass he’d been drinking from onto the counter top.

***DISCLAIMER***

This excerpt may contain strong language and/or adult content. Please read at your own discretion.

Chapter One

“Damn!” Dominique Green swore, sucking air through her teeth in frustration. She took off her Gucci shades in order to stare down at the ruined shoe. She should have taken it as a premonition when the heel of her $250 pump snapped, causing her ankle to twist, as she got ready to get into her silver, SLK-Class Mercedes Benz.

She wasn’t going to worry about it though. Being equipped to handle such situations, (because a lady is always prepared) she pulled the lever and the trunk popped open. She got out, walked around to the back of the car and promptly selected another pair of shoes out of the built-in, custom shoe rack. She would never be caught slipping. A woman has to always have a backup plan. That goes for any situation.

Though her ankle throbbed, upon inspection she saw that it wasn’t swollen. Satisfied that the shoes matched her trendy, Dolce & Gabbana squirt set, she slid her feet into them. Dominique frowned at the damaged shoe that she’d taken off. She tossed the set into the back of the trunk, slamming the lid shut. Glancing at her gold diamond encased watch she frowned slightly.

She still had enough time to make a grand entrance. She just knew that everyone on her floor would be waiting to honor her. This marked the first day she’d be stepping into her new job position as Account Executive at Troutman Mutual Funds and Investments. And step is exactly what she intended to do—more like strut.

She’d pretend to be shocked when her co-workers yelled out, “Surprise!” She was good at being fake and phony. Hell, she’d had enough practice over the years.

She smiled as she headed in the direction of the office, not even letting the congested morning traffic irritate her as it usually did. It was a nice morning, warm enough to profile. She’d let down her drop-top if she weren’t afraid of messing up her new weave job. She couldn’t let a $200 up-do blow in the wind, no matter how tempting.

Driving five miles over the speed limit, Dominique let her mind set the scene. She could almost bet that her secretary, Brenda, had ordered balloons and the likes. There’d be a big, decorated cake filled to the capacity with calories, the last thing her hips needed. Confetti would litter the top of her new desk. That would the cherry wood oak desk she’d ordered to her specifications, with matching filing cabinets. As the new Account Executive, Dominique had her office completely redecorated. Mr. Troutman had spared no expenses. When it came to getting things to go her way, Dominique was a pro.

It didn’t take long before she’d arrived at her destination. She found a parking space close to the building and pulled into it. For the umpteenth time, she wished she’d have her parking arrangements worked out so that she could be under the covered garage. Her baby didn’t need to be out in the open so birds could shit on it. Besides, some jealous bitch she’d probably pissed off could key it up, since it was easy to spot. If she could park under the covered garage, the camera would give her a sense of security.

She’d have to work on Marcus regarding that. He was in charge of the assigned parking. Maybe it was time she took him up on that offer of a date. He asked her at every chanced opportunity. The problem with Marcus was he wasn’t up to her standards. Marcus prided himself for being head of security, but in Dominique’s opinion, that wasn’t good enough. She doubted that his paychecks for an entire month could cover her rent. Any man she associated with had to have something going for them career wise. There would be no sponging off of her.

She had to admit, Marcus was fine. She smiled as she pictured his chocolate, smooth skin and unusual hazel eyes. He stood around six three, with a well-built, solid frame. He had arms the size of Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. She’d have to think about hooking up with him and weigh whether or not if it was worth parking under the covered garage.

Still smiling, she stepped through the automatic doors of Troutman Mutual Funds and Investments. Not hearing, “Surprise!” as she’d expected, caused her plastered on fake smile to waver. Where were all the people? Where was the noise and the excitement associated with a celebration? All she encountered was an “I can hear a pin drop” type of quietness.

“Good morning, Ray,” she said to the security guard posted at the front desk. Ray, usually cheerful and animated, sat wearing a glum expression on his haggard face. He looked up and she could have sworn that his bottom lip trembled.

Damn! Something bad must have happened, Dominique thought.

“Not such a good morning, Miss Green. Mr. Troutman died. Just fell over his desk. Heart attack, I suspect,” Ray revealed.

“Oh no!” she exclaimed, more so for herself than for Mr. Troutman. She really did feel bad that he’d kicked the bucket but she felt even worse because now nobody would be thinking about her. A heart attack certainly would put a damper on celebrating her success.

She could tell that Ray waited for some words of comfort or consolation. Searching down deep inside, she found nothing to offer him. Instead, she hurried to catch the elevator. “See you later!” she threw out. Ray’s shoulders hunched in grief, but Dominique didn’t catch it because the elevator’s doors had closed.

Feeling somewhat deflated, she pushed the button for the third floor. As she waited to arrive at her destination, she tried not to pout. Maybe Brenda had something planned. Even she shouldn’t have expected to be greeted by the entire company. She wasn’t, after all, the president or even the CEO for that matter.

Dominique Green was spoiled and selfish. She knew it and everyone who was anyone knew it too. Her selfishness didn’t stop men from going out of their way to accommodate her, though. She could also woo most of the women she encountered, on a good day. Nothing came in the way of her getting what she wanted. Today, she wanted a cake and some balloons damn-it! Perhaps today would be the first time she didn’t get her way and that thought depressed her.

The elevator stopped on the second floor and a drop dead gorgeous, black Adonis got on! Dominique quickly checked her reflection in the shiny interior of the elevator’s walls. She looked chic, as usual. She made it a habit to always be on point. She had every hair in place, make-up immaculate, nails French manicured down with the toes to match.

The gentleman barely acknowledged her as he leaned in to push three. Seeing that the button was already lit, he settled against the far wall.

“Good morning,” Dominique tried.

“Um!” he mumbled.

“Who shoved a sour lemon up your ass this morning?” she wondered. She thought about just letting this one go but out the corner of her eye she could see that he had it going on! Damn! He had immediately made her panties moist!

He was tall, dark and handsome in every sense of the word. He stood at least six feet six. He carried himself well beneath his Armani suit. His shoes proved that he had good taste as well as money. A Kmart salary couldn’t afford such a sharp wardrobe. He even had the bling bling to match. A 24 karat gold necklace draped his neck. He sported a diamond earring in one lobe. It was a real diamond not Cubic Zirconia. She checked out his Rolex watch and took in the perfectly manicured fingernails. That turned her on even more. In her opinion, a grown ass man with oil and dirt under his fingernails, had to be the most disgusting sight ever.

She kept taking inventory of the gentleman. His hair wasn’t to her liking. She preferred a brother to wear a low cut fade. This brother sported dreadlocks. Yet, they appeared to be soft and inviting to the touch. Plus, they looked clean and not like some bird’s nest or matted yarn.

The brother was definitely up on his hygiene. In her opinion, that was important. Nine times out of ten, if a man looked dirty, then the seat of his drawers would probably be crusty or he’d be ashy, a definite turnoff.

Thinking about ashy people took Dominique back to one of her past flings. Melvin Wilson had dressed in the best clothes that money could buy. Sean Jean, Roc A Wear, G Unit: a name brand accompanied anything he owned. The downside: he’d be wrinkled from head to toe; wrinkled like an elephant! To make matters worse, he’d be ashy. His elbows and ankles resembled miniature chalkboards. He hadn’t the slightest clue that no lotion makes you dry sometime. To top it off, the brother’s armpits must have been afraid of deodorant. She’d been sad to see the money go, but her nostrils hadn’t been able to put up with Melvin for more than three months.

And his feet! She wouldn’t be surprised if he could walk on hot coals. He needed a special kind of foot soak for those bear claw replicas. Or he should go old school with it and just add some Epsom salt and a top full of bleach to a gallon of hot water. That would scald the husk right off of them bad boys.

Thinking about Melvin’s feet made her laugh out loud. She couldn’t contain herself.

“Am I amusing you?” The deep, rich tones of the stranger’s voice rushed over her, almost like a caress. Dominique had forgotten that she wasn’t alone. She quickly cleared her throat.

“Oh, no. Not at all. I was just thinking about something,” she said, still giggling from the image of Melvin holding a bottle of Clorox.

“Well, at least someone can find humor on a day like this.” He glanced her way. “Mr. Troutman just died, or did you hear the news yet?”

“I was informed when I arrived,” she stated, pulling herself together and switching to business mode. “I’m heading to his office now. By the way, I’m his new Account Executive,” she added.

“Oh? Well, you must be grief-stricken?” His eyes met hers and narrowed, suddenly. He’d heard all about his uncle’s new Account Executive. A friend of his, Lauretta, worked in the New Accounts department. She’d been more than happy to fill him in on his uncle’s excursions. Learning of some of his uncle’s business decisions, had prompted him to come for a visit. He was glad that he’d had a chance to see his uncle before his death. Was this woman somehow responsible for the heart attack that had taken his uncle away?

His lips curled in distaste at the thought. Lauretta had painted Dominique Green as a headhunter, a self-centered hussy and heartless slut. He was face to face with the gold-digger who had slept her way to the top, using his uncle in the process. How ironic for them to meet on the elevator today of all days.

“Grief-stricken?” She gazed at him as though he was delirious. “Not really. I barely knew the man,” she said carelessly.

“I’m heading to his office as well.” His brown eyes swept over her in a contemptuous glare. “By the way, my name is Arvind Thompson. I’ll be stepping in for Mr. Troutman, my uncle,” he said pointedly.

Dominique’s mouth dropped open on its own accord. This was Mr. Troutman’s nephew! Oops! She’d spoken her mind as usual. Today, it might have caused her to become ostracized. She had to be more careful. She didn’t need a new enemy. She already had enough backstabbers to contend with. If anything, since Arvind would be the new CEO, she needed him in her corner. What was a good way to suck up to him?

She quickly recovered from her initial shock and cleared her throat again. “Mr. Thompson. Arvind, did you say? That’s a unique name. I haven’t properly introduced myself. I’m Dominique Green.” She extended her hand, which he ignored. Feeling slighted, she let it drop back to her side.

They came to a stop and the doors opened. As the two of them watched, paramedics rolled the body of Mr. Troutman onto the elevator.

“Oh my God!” Dominique gasped, stepping hurriedly out of the compartment.

“Don’t worry Miss Green,” Arvind said sarcastically, following her more slowly. “The dead can’t talk. Your secrets are safe.” For now, he thought.

Of course, Dominique’s first day as Account Executive had been ruined. She’d spent the majority of it accepting condolences from well-wishing co-workers and clients who’d heard of Mr. Troutman’s untimely demise.

By lunchtime she’d decided to call it quits. She grabbed her Louis Vuitton purse from the bottom of her desk drawer in preparation to leave. She had to get out of this sad, dismal place before she threw herself over the balcony. Everybody behaved as though Mr. Troutman had been the Reverend Jesse Jackson or Al Sharpton. She’d never witnessed people carry on so. Groups had huddled together talking in hushed tones. People had burst into tears. She’d even seen a few women crying at their desks.

“Miss Green, can I see you in my uncle’s office?” She heard from behind, causing her to twirl around in the chair in alarm.

“What now?” she wondered aloud.

The morning had consisted of a department meeting. Arvind had talked to the department and informed them about paid grief counseling, courtesy of the company. He’d even suggested that if they needed to take the day off in order to deal with the tragedy, they’d still receive pay. He hadn’t extended the invitation to Dominique, however. As a matter of fact, he’d basically ignored her the entire morning. Now, he wanted to talk and she just wanted to leave. Not caring to make waves, she got up and followed him.

“Have a seat,” he offered. She sat down in the gray straight-backed office chair then crossed her legs. Arvind didn’t let the movement go unnoticed.

His eyes took in Dominique Green. All of her. She oozed femininity. She was far from being considered beautiful, in his opinion, but she was extremely attractive. Her honey colored skin shone from too much makeup. She could do without that goop caked on her face. It would probably take about five years off her age, too. She had nice, full, Angelina Jolie type lips. Of course, she’d spread some chocolate colored lipstick across them, covering their natural moistness. She had high, cheekbones, which added to her striking appearance. Her long graceful neck supported a diamond stud necklace. The matching earrings swung from her lobes. His eyes dropped lower to scrutinize the rest of her. He couldn’t tell what size breasts she had because of the thickness of her jacket. He guessed they were a 36 B: not too big, not to small, just the right size to put in your mouth.

Yes, Miss Green was sexy as hell. She’d crossed her long, shapely legs and he stared at the silky, nylons in fascination. He’d love to reach under that little squirt she had on and ease those stockings down her golden thighs, spread her legs and ease one finger inside her. He wondered if she would be as wet as he imagined her to be. How would she taste?

“Mr. Thompson, can we get on with it?” Her voice snapped him out of his fantasy. He blinked a few times and stared at her shoes in an effort to not give away his lucid thoughts. Being behind a desk had its advantage: she wasn’t able to see how excited he’d become.

“Are those Giovanna?” he asked.

“Excuse me?” she gave him an incredulous stare.

“Those shoes? Are they Giovanna?” he repeated. Now he had Dominique intrigued. Either the brother was one classy man or he was straight up gay.

“No, actually, they’re from Kimora Lee Simmons new line. But I know you didn’t call me in here to discuss shoes,” she said in exasperation.

“You’re right.” He leaned back in his chair but continued to assess her. After what seemed like a full minute of him scrutinizing her, he began to speak. “Miss Green, the nature of this meeting is to inform you that for the next month, we’ll be working in close proximity on the Lauderdale account. This is one of our most important clients, if not the most important. We can’t afford to let my uncle’s death cause us to lose them.” He was all seriousness, even though the thought of banging her back out clouded his mind. He had to dispel those thoughts from his head. Dominique Green was unnerving him, but he had to gain control. After all, she might be the reason that his uncle’s heart had given out. “I understand that today is your first day as Account Executive. Well, now you’ll get to experience hard work. From what I’ve heard about you so far, that’s not something you’re accustomed to.” He held up his hand to stop her protest of outrage. “Don’t bother to feign insult. Now is the time to lay all of the cards on the table. If you thought that this was going to be an easy paycheck for you, you’ve been disillusioned.” He settled back in his uncle’s leather chair and stared at her with hard eyes. “I don’t know the nature of the relationship you may or may not have had with my uncle. But ours will be strictly professional. If you can’t handle the job or the extra duties I’ve assigned out of necessity, now is the time to make that clear. I can easily put you back into your old position. No harm done. No hard feelings. Mike Parham would be the ideal replacement-”

“What?” she nearly spat. She’d been silent up until this point. Now her face contorted in anger and she uncrossed her legs, leaned forward in the seat to glare at him. She placed her hands on the edge of his desk for support. “Mike Parham doesn’t know his asshole from a donut hole!” she snarled.

“Miss Green, this is a professional working environment. Need I remind you to refrain from such language?” He made a tsking sound. “It’s offensive. Besides, it’s unbecoming for a lady.”

She blew air through her flaring nostrils. “What’s unbecoming is you and your holier than thou attitude. You waltz in here one day and you’ve already formed an opinion of me based on idle gossip. That’s unfair,” she pointed out.

He rolled his eyes at her and smirked. “Haven’t you heard the saying, life is unfair? I’m sure my uncle is thinking that from wherever it is he’s gone. He didn’t count on dying right at the moment that his company was one of the leading investment firms in the state. Did he?” She made it a point to ignore his question. It wasn’t as if he’d expected an answer anyway.

“Mr. Thompson, can I go now? You’ve made it perfectly clear what is expected of me. I’ll do my job, giving a hundred and ten percent. The Lauderdale account won’t suffer. Mike Parham wouldn’t know how to handle anything concerning this client being that I am the one who signed them in the first place.” She sat back in the chair and re-crossed her legs.

Arvind pursed his lips. He had more to say but it could wait. Little did she know, but the days of Miss Green crossing and uncrossing her legs in her short, sexy, expensive skirts were over. He’d be implementing a new dress code, effective immediately. All women had to wear pants suits or skirts that were three inches above the knee. He could not let lust led him astray. He had a job to do and was determined to succeed at it.

Miss Green was indeed a very desirable woman, but he wasn’t falling into her clutches. He knew all about women using what they had to get what they wanted. They crossed his path all the time. Plus, she may have killed his uncle.

“You can go,” he told her and she stood up abruptly and made for the door. “One other thing,” his words halted her but she didn’t turn around. “I expect you to be here at seven tomorrow morning.”

“But my shift doesn’t start until eight,” she said, finally turning to face him.

“I know. But I need someone to make the coffee,” he said casually. “It’ll probably take you thirty minutes to figure out where to find the coffee pot and another thirty more minutes to make it.”

Her face stiffened and her eyes narrowed at his insult. Her lips grew tight with ill-concealed anger. “I don’t make coffee, Mr. Thompson! That’s Brenda’s job. I think you need to familiarize yourself with my job duties and responsibilities. I’m nobody’s little do-girl!” she snapped. “I’ll see you tomorrow – at eight.” With that, she stalked out of the office. She had too much dignity to let the door slam behind her even though she felt like slamming it so hard that it rocked off the hinges.

Arrvind watched as she sashayed away. Sister was wearing the hell out of that short skirt! That’s the reason he had to change the dress code. How could he walk around and expect to be taken serious if he had a hard on pressing against the front of his trousers? That could definitely pave the way for numerous sexual harassment lawsuits, as well.

Chapter Two

Dominique decided that she’d compromise and be at the office at 7:30. That meant she’d had to rush in applying her make-up and she’d skipped breakfast. She didn’t mind not eating though. She’d make up for it during lunchtime.

When she arrived at the office, she found that neither Mr. Thompson nor Brenda had made it in. It turned out that she had to make the coffee after all. A quarter ‘til eight Brenda called to say she couldn’t make it in to work. She explained that her seven-year-old son had suffered an asthma attack. She’d probably need the rest of the week off to care for him. She’d mentioned something about having to put him on some machine and give him medications every four hours.

Dominique hung up, glad that she didn’t have any brats to contend with. If they came out having asthma, they’d probably needed expensive medications. Children always needed something! If it wasn’t formula, it was pampers. They graduated on to needing clothes and shoes. If they were bucked toothed, they needed braces. Before long, they wanted cars and houses. She’d be damned if she would spend her money on anybody except herself. Nope, kids were out of the question!

“Good morning, Miss Green.” Hearing Arvind’s voice nearly caused her to drop the cup of steaming coffee she’d just finished pouring.

“Good morning, Mr. Thompson,” she managed. “I have your coffee here, if you tell me how you’d like it.” She rushed on to say, “Brenda called in. She’ll most likely be out the remainder of the week.”

“I hope she’s alright,” he said in concern.

“She’s fine. Her son has asthma,” she explained. She saw the compassion cloud his eyes. So, he had a heart after all.

“Umff! That’s awful. I’ll have to give her a call and check on his condition. Not being able to breathe is no joke.” He seemed far away all of a sudden.

“Mr. Thompson?” Her voice broke into his thoughts.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I tend to let my mind drift from time to time,” he said.

“Here’s your coffee. Do you take it with cream and sugar or just plain?”

He stared at the cup that she’d extended towards him. For a second, he’d let his guard down. He couldn’t allow that to happen again. This was Dominique Green, the man-eater he was dealing with, after all. It would do him good to always remember that.

He took the Styrofoam cup filled with liquid.

“I apologize, Miss Green. I don’t drink the stuff. Never got used to the taste.” To her utter amazement, he dropped the beverage into a nearby garbage can. The door to his office closed on her shocked expression.

In her office, Dominique fumed for the first thirty minutes. She had a mind to storm into his office and tell him to kiss her ass. She really had to convince herself not to do anything that could cause her to lose her job. That man infuriated her! But no matter how much of a pompous ass he was, she’d remain professional. She would not let an anal retentive asshole like Arvind make her lose something she’d worked too hard to gain.

Dominique walked over to the file cabinet and snatched open the top drawer. She grabbed some files that she’d been working on the day before. She slammed them on the top of her desk and sat down heavily. She wanted to scream her rage.

Behind the closed door, Arvind chuckled. He could hear Dominique in the next room having a temper tantrum. She’d be okay. She probably considered him to be her worst nightmare.

He really wasn’t as anal retentive as he no doubt appeared to be in Dominique’s eyes. He just wanted to get his point across. He would not succumb to her overtures, so there was no need for her to make any.

He was almost one hundred percent certain that any interest she may have had in him had dissipated with the coffee incident. If that didn’t do the trick, his next deed certainly would.

He pushed the intercom button on his phone to summon Dominique.

“Miss Green?”

“Yes?” Her tone was crisp since she couldn’t quite hide her emotions.

“I have an important memo that needs to be sent out immediately. Since Brenda isn’t here, I’ll need you to type it. Can you come into my uncle’s- my office, please?”

“I’ll be right there.”

“Thank you.”

The memo concerned the implementation of the new dress code. Even though Dominique frowned as she typed his dictation, she said nothing. Once finished, she got up to leave.

“I guess that means you can retire that outfit to your closet,” he commented. He surveyed the trendy two-piece that she’d chosen to wear that day. “Or you can save it for club attire.” Though she wanted to hurl a comeback at him, she just bit her tongue and kept silent. She did, however, roll her eyes. “Thank you Miss Green. After lunch, report back to my office so that we can go over the Lauderdale account together.”

“No problem.”

“Oh, before I forget, do you have Brenda’s number? I want to call her before I get too engrossed in work.” She recited the number to him and he jotted it down on a Sticky Notepad. “Thank you.” He’d already lifted the receiver and had begun dialing. “You’re dismissed,” he stated, not bothering to glance her way. “Hello Brenda? This is Mr. Thompson-” She pulled the door closed softly though once again she wanted to slam it.

“You’re dismissed,” she mimicked. Like she was some damned second grader in elementary school! Once again, Mr. Thompson had her blood boiling. She knew exactly what she needed to do in order to calm her nerves that were now shot.

She retrieved her cell phone from her Coach bag and searched through her contact numbers. She looked for one name in particular.

Chad. Chad could help her get her mind right. She dialed his number and arranged a mid-day rendezvous.

Chad waited as Dominique got out of her car. Looking thuggish, yet sexy, in his South Pole urban wear, for some reason, he appealed to her. She’d met him at her college roommate’s wedding reception a few months prior. He’d been confident without being too cocky, so she’d given him her number.

She was so glad that she hadn’t ignored him. He hadn’t been the type that usually attracted her. However, he’d had a certain confidence that had pulled her in. She called him a few weeks later and they’d hooked up.

The size of his dick had impressed her and the fact that he knew how to work it, had impressed her even more. Never had she expected a slim man to be so well-endowed. She’d been prepared for Chad to act like a caveman in the bedroom, but he’d surprised her in that aspect as well. He’d been tender, taking it slow until she’d loosened up. He’d even allowed her to take full control. She’d liked that most of all.

Though she’d planned to “stick and move,” her plans changed the first time he’d caused her to experience back-to-back orgasms. Chad definitely was a keeper.

“What’s up?” he greeted.

“I need some stress relief,” she told him, quickly unlocking her door and ushering him inside. She barely gave him time to close the door before she was on him. Her hands snatched at his clothes, tugging them away impatiently. He did the same. As soon as she was undressed, his hot mouth was on her breasts.

“You need this?”

“Yes,” she moaned, as he licked a trail down her stomach. “Forget the foreplay, just fuck me.”

“Okay.” She heard a Magnum pack tear, and urged him to hurry up, put it on, and fuck her.

And that’s exactly what he did. Bending her over, he took her right in the middle of the living room. He slid in and out of her, making her gasp her pleasure aloud.

“Oh Chad, fuck this pussy!” Dominique screamed. She couldn’t think of anything except his dick going in and out of her.

“Is this what you want?” He grabbed her hips and pulled her back against his powerful thrusts. They could hear the sound of her ass cheeks smacking against his thighs.

“Oh, it feels good! It feels so good. Give it to me!” After a few more thrusts, she felt an intense orgasm wash over her. “Yes! That’s it Chad. I’m coming! Do it, baby! I’m coming!” It wasn’t long before her legs gave out and she slipped to the carpeted floor. Chad turned her over and put her trembling legs over his shoulders. He drove into her until she shuddered through another climax.

“Damn! I’m ‘bout to bust it, baby. Shit!” he swore, as he throbbed and pulsated inside her until he came.

The two lay on the floor until their breathing resumed to normal.

“So, how much time you got to kill?” he asked.

“As much time as it takes.”

He grabbed her hands. “You willin’ to let me make you lose control?” His eyes challenged her as he reached for the pantyhose she’d shed with the rest of her clothes.

“Yeah, sure.” Their eyes held as he used the pantyhose to tie her hands together over her head.

“You won’t be disappointed,” he promised.

Hooking up with Chad had been just what she’d needed. As she headed back to Troutman Mutual Funds & Investments, she felt the tension ease away. Now, she could deal with Mr. Arvind Head-In-His-Ass Thompson!

She arrived back late but didn’t particularly care. Getting docked in pay was well worth the time she’d spent with Chad. Her face flushed as she remembered the heated session they’d just shared. If today had been any indication of what was to come, she’d have to put Chad’s number on speed dial.

She entered her office to find Arvind leaning over her desk searching through the files she’d left on top of it.

“Miss Green, I don’t see the Lauderdale file,” he stated when she approached.

“That’s because I have it.”

“Oh. It would have been nice of you to leave it behind so that I could analyze it,” he snapped.

“You said that we were going over it together,” she reminded him.

“That may be the case. However, I would have liked the opportunity to familiarize myself with it before our meeting.”

“Suit yourself,” she said. She wasn’t about to let him frazzle her again. She reached into her briefcase, got the file and thrust it towards him. He stared at the folder, but didn’t open it. His eyes took in her tousled appearance and met hers with a knowing look.

“Miss Green, I’ll give you fifteen minutes to make yourself presentable for our meeting,” he smirked.

“See you then,” she said breezily and floated off to the ladies room.

Arvind’s eyes slanted. He wasn’t stupid by a long shot. He knew what that extra pep in her step meant. Earlier in the morning she’d been wearing lipstick. After lunch, she’d returned without it. She’d gone off for lunch and had gotten laid. He couldn’t understand for the life of him why that thought bothered him so much. Miss Green was a grown ass woman; she could do whatever she wanted. It had nothing to do with him.

But had she really done that?

His brow was furrowed in concentration when Dominique walked into his office ten minutes later.

“I’m ready,” she stated sweetly.

“Have a seat,” he offered, glancing up from the Lauderdale file. She’d tidied herself up, replaced her lipstick and fixed her hair. He couldn’t let thoughts of her lying up under some man enter into his head. It was time to get down to business. Like he’d told himself, her personal affairs didn’t concern him.

Did she smell like Coast deodorant soap?

“I’ve gone over the letters and requests that Mr. Lauderdale has sent to us. How did my uncle and Jack Lauderdale get along?” He leaned back in his seat and waited for her answer.

“Oh, they had established a good rapport. They’d even began golfing together on Saturdays,” Dominique informed.

“Golfing?” Arvind asked incredulously. “My uncle? Humph! I’ve never known him to golf. That’s news to me.”

“Seems like you didn’t really know your uncle that well,” Dominique commented dryly. “He loved to play golf.”

“Apparently, playing golf was up their on his list with playing the field. I’m sure you don’t have too much to say about that, do you?”

“What are you implying, Mr. Thompson? If you’re suggesting that your uncle’s and my relationship was anything but professional, you’d better think twice before revealing it,” she stated in warning.

Yes, it was definitely Coast that he smelled. And Coast was clearly a masculine scent.

He shook his head to clear it. “Miss Green, forgive me for that comment. I was out of line. The type of relationship you had with my uncle is none of my concern. What is my concern is that we maintain the highest level of professionalism, with senior level attention to detail to Lauderdale Capital.”

“I agree,” she said, exhaling and settling back down.

“Update me on them. Tell me everything that you know since you’ve been working so close with them the past few months.”

“I know that they are a company that have integrity. It governs every thing that they do.”

“I like that,” he nodded. “Go on.”

“To date, the firm has an outstanding reputation and a very successful track record in all of their business dealing.”

“That’s great,” he commented. “Mr. Jack Lauderdale, what do you know of him?”

“He’s a religious man, a devout Christian. He’s family oriented. An all out nice guy, from what I could see.”

“You ever went out with him?”

“Not personally, no. Your uncle and I have held business meetings with him, of course,” she stated.

He flipped through the file that held important documentation. “I see that they’re looking to establish a joint venture with us, possibly a partnership.”

“That’s our primary goal- to eventually go into partnership with them. Lauderdale generally seeks real estate investments requiring a minimum of $3.0 million in equity capital. They deal with the big bucks.” Arvind whistled and placed his hands behind his neck.

“Pretty impressive. Well, let’s establish the joint venture first. Once we see how things flow, we’ll be able to decide about becoming partners with them later.”

“They will definitely be a huge asset to us, especially with improving our access to financial resources,” Dominique said. “Plus, with them, we could spread the costs and risks on this upcoming project.”

“You’re right. That’s good insight on your part,” he complimented. “I see you really have done your homework,” he added.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. When we bring in clients that help us to make more money, I stand to gain.”

“So, it’s all about you, huh?” His brow lifted as he stared at her.

“Why not?” she quipped. “Even though money is the root of all evil, I can never get enough of it.”

“That verse is often misquoted,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

“That verse about money is often misquoted,” he repeated. “The entire verse says, “For the love is money is the root of all evil.” So, it’s not the money that’s to blame. It’s the love of it.”

“Well, thank you for pointing that out. And exactly where did you come up with that? It’s classic,” she said in sarcasm.

“It’s from the Bible,” he said softly.

“Oh,” Dominique could only swallow down her shame. She would have known that if she hadn’t fought so hard not to become like her mother. Her mother was one of those religious types that preached hell fire and brimstone type of condemnation. It had either been her way or no way, no in-betweens. Dominique had been forced to attend church every Sunday. Most Wednesdays and Fridays found her at Bible study. She’d never been allowed to lead a normal childhood. Church events had dominated most of her days.

Dominique couldn’t stand being raised in such a strict environment. To this day, she didn’t believe any of the Biblical principles she’d been taught. Her stepfather had been a pastor and the biggest hypocrite in the church. She’d never believe any of the words that he’d preached.

Right before her eighteenth birthday, she’d broken the chains and left home to attend FAMU on a full scholarship. While away at college she hadn’t been in touch with her mother that often. Even now, she still kept a safe distance. Her lifestyle and her mother’s lifestyle didn’t mix.

Thinking about the strained relationship between herself and her mother caused Dominique to frown. Arvind glanced up from the file and caught her confused expression.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

“Oh, I’m fine,” she said, recovering quickly. “Just tired. I can’t wait to get home and soak my aching muscles.”

“I’ll just bet they’re aching,” he said under his breath. Dominique’s comment had caused him to conjure up thoughts of her and her unknown lunch partner.

I know that’s Coast. Earlier this morning she smelled like Escape.

Had she gone to lunch and had a tryst?

“Well, if you don’t need me any further, I’d like to go now. I have a nail appointment at five and I don’t want to be late.” Her voice cut into his thoughts.

He almost blurted out that she’d been late returning from lunch, but if he did that, she’d know that he’d been watching the clock. He didn’t want to start off being that kind of boss. He wanted employees who respected him. He wanted to establish a good working relationship with each and every one of his former uncle’s employees. He especially wanted to develop one with Dominique. At the moment, he just didn’t know exactly what kind of a relationship.

“You can go. You did come in early and I appreciate that. Thank you,” he said.

“Is it fair to assume that I can come in at my regular time tomorrow morning, being that you don’t drink coffee?” she added, bringing back the incident from earlier.

Her comment brought a broad smile to his face. He would love to have been a fly on the wall when he’d tossed the coffee she’d given him. Surely, the look on her face had to have been priceless?

Dominique couldn’t figure out for the life of her what he found so amusing. She didn’t get paid nearly enough to be the brunt of his sadistic jokes. She had to leave before she decided to get ethnic after all and tell him about himself.

“See you tomorrow, Mr. Thompson. Have a nice evening,” she said through tight lips. Without waiting to hear a reply she got up and strutted out.

Chapter Three

Dominique slipped out of her heels and padded to the kitchen in her nylons. She wasn’t worried about snagging them on something because they had already been ruined. She could blame that on Chad. He’d used them to tie her hands above her head. Thinking about it made her laugh out loud.

Chad was a straight up freak! Even though he was ten year younger, he didn’t mind trying new things. Plus, he liked to take control. She wasn’t used to being dominated, but with Chad, she really didn’t mind going along with his kinky ideas. It spiced things up and kept her going back for more.

She took out some leftovers, which consisted of combination lo mien noodles from the day before to heat up. She carefully took the metal wire from the box before sticking the container in the microwave. Once she’d made the mistake of putting a container in the microwave without taking the metal piece out and ended up short-circuiting the damn thing!

While she waited for the food to heat up she looked at her freshly done manicure. She hadn’t been in the mood for anything fancy, just some nail tips. One day she’d attempt to grow her own but she had a habit of biting her fingernails.

She stopped staring at her hands and checked the answering machine. For some reason she preferred to have an old fashioned answering machine instead of that voice secretary offered by the phone company. She’d tried that and had always forgotten the number to call in order to get her messages.

She frowned when she heard her mother’s voice.

“Nicky, I need for you to call me. It’s important.”

Now, her mother rarely called her for anything. She forgot all about the Chinese food and picked up the phone.

“Mama, it’s Nicky, what’s wrong?” she asked as soon as her mother got on the phone.

“If l had someone else to call, I wouldn’t be bothering you,” she said stiffly, then, got straight to the point. “I’m going in for cataract surgery and after the surgery I’ll need to recuperate for a few days. I wanted to know if I could stay there?”

“You mean with me?” Dominique gulped.

“Yes, at your place. Or either you could come stay over here for a while?” Dominique immediately dismissed that idea. There would be no way she’d set foot in that religious shrine. At her mother’s, you couldn’t even go to the bathroom without the eyes of Jesus watching. It made her skin crawl. “Nicky, are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here Mama. You can stay with me,” she finally said. “When is the surgery and are you going to need for me to pick you up?”

“It’s tomorrow at two o’clock and I’ll catch a taxi. Don’t want to trouble you too much. You letting me stay over there is truly a blessing.”

“Okay Mama, I have to go now.” She wasn’t in the mood for a sermon. “Do you still have that spare key that I gave you?”

“It’s somewhere in my purse. But, I know I got it.”

“Good. When you get here, I’ll probably still be at work. So, just let yourself in and make yourself at home.”

“Okay Nikki. Bye.”

“Bye Mama.”

Dominique spent the day pouring over figures with Arvind. They’d spent the rest of the time on the Lauderdale account. Since Brenda was still out, she’d also had to type up a few memos. When five o’clock had rolled around, she had been too glad to leave. Amazingly, Mr. Thompson had been civil the entire day.

When she stepped into her apartment, the aroma of pork chops teased her nostrils. The familiar smell caused her stomach to rumble. She hadn’t had pork chops in quite a while because of her strict diet. Besides, she never could cook them like her mama. She hadn’t liked the taste when she’d used Shake N Bake. It just wasn’t the same.

“Hello Mama,” Dominique called out.

“In the kitchen, dear.” She found her mama stirring a skillet that held pork chops smothered in brown gravy.

“Should you be up?” she asked.

“I’m okay. They just told me not to life anything heavy. That’s all.”

“Mama, how can you see in those?” She wore dark shades that had to be thicker than Stevie Wonder’s.

“I can see just fine. I have to wear these until my next appointment.”

“I’m sure it’s okay if you take them off inside.”

“I’ll do no such thing. I don’t want anything causing a setback. You do want me out of your apartment in a few days, don’t you?” she added.

“Calm down Mama. I was just saying. Besides, you can stay here as long as you need. You know I don’t mind.”

A short pause lingered then her mama sighed tiredly. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll fix you a plate. You are hungry, aren’t you?”

“Yes ma’am, I’m practically starving. I worked right through lunch. Did I tell you that Mr. Troutman died?” she asked, pulling out a chair and plopping down.

“He did? Naw you didn’t tell me!” her mother exclaimed, turning from the stove. “Why you didn’t call me up and tell me? At least I could have made it to the funeral. You know, his wife and I went to the same church before she married him. Then they became Lutherans.” Dominique watched as her mama piled food on two plates.

“Luciferan,” Dominique quipped.

“What was that?”

“Nothing Mama. Yes, Mr. Troutman kicked the bucket. Just like that. They said it was a heart attack. You can still attend the funeral ‘cause he’s not in the ground yet. I’ll have to find out when and where the services will be held.”

“That’s a shame!”

“Now, his nephew is running the company.”

“I didn’t know he had a nephew. What type of person is he?”

“He’s an as- he’s anal,” she said catching her slip of the tongue.

“I meant, is he a Christian?”

“Mama, I don’t know. I don’t go prying all into that man’s personal business. Besides, I can barely stand him. Ever since Brenda’s been out sick, he’s had me doing my job and hers.”

“You know, according to the Good Book, we are to bear one another’s burdens.”

“I understand Mama and I’m doing my best. It’s just that Arvind-“ Her words trailed off. “I just can’t figure him out.” She told her mother about the coffee incident.

“Maybe it was just a test,” Mrs. Green said, placing a plate in front of Dominique. The aroma floated into her nostrils causing her to forget all about Arvind. She dug into the pork chop and took a huge bite.

“This is scrumptious!” she said. “Even though pork is the last thing my waistline needs, I’m going to enjoy every last fattening bite!”

Mrs. Green looked across the table at her daughter and couldn’t hold back her laughter. “Child, you are something else! If you’re worried about your waistline now, just wait until you start having babies.”

“Nicky, why don’t you have any Bibles on your bookshelf?” Mrs. Green asked later. They were sitting in the living room watching television.

“I keep my Bible on my nightstand.” But, it’s not like she ever read it. She wasn’t going to tell her mother that though.

“Well, it’s good to have more than one version. You know they got the King James Version, the New King James Version, the New International Version. I got one called the Devotional Bible. It’s easy to read and it has notes.”

“That’s nice Mama,” she said absently flipping through the pages of Ebony magazine. She wanted to read the article they’d written about Tyler Perry. She’d loved his movie, Diary of a Mad Black Woman, mainly because that fine Shemar Moore played in it. She didn’t think Kimberly Elise was all that cute, but that was just her opinion. It looked like she needed a new weave stylist. It was just something about her eyes that gave her a crazed look. She certainly was lucky, getting to play Shemar’s love interest in that movie. What Dominique wouldn’t give to be able to go a round with sexy bones! Tyler Perry wasn’t half bad himself. She’d even give him a run for his money.

“You should read the book of Ruth,” her mother said.

“Huh?” She glanced up from the article.

“I said, you should read the book of Ruth when you get time. It might give you an idea on how to get a husband.”

Dominique tossed the Ebony magazine aside. “Mama, what is with you all of a sudden? First, you made the comment about babies, now you’re talking about husbands. Are you implying that I need to get married?”

“Well, you ain’t getting any younger and neither am I,” her mother said. “Besides, there’s something I haven’t told you.” Now Dominique’s heart skipped a beat. She didn’t like her mother’s tone of voice.

“Mama, what haven’t you told me?”

“I just didn’t want to worry you. You know, I’ve always wanted to have a closer relationship with you, but now-“

“Mama, what is it?” Now she was beginning to get more than a little nervous.

“The doctor told me that I have high blood pressure. You know what that means,” she finally said.

Dominique exhaled the breath of air she’d been holding in her lungs. Thank God she hadn’t said she had cancer or something else that was fatal.

“Mama, that doesn’t mean anything. It means that you’re going to keep your blood pressure down.”

“My mama died from a stroke. You remember that, don’t you? And her mother suffered two strokes before she died. High blood pressure is serious.”

“I know it’s serious. That’s why we’re going to keep yours down,” she said firmly. “Mama, I’m not ready to lose you.” She felt a lump form in her throat and swallowed it down with difficulty. Her mother came over and gave her a tight hug. She wanted to stay in her mom’s arms forever. That way, she’d know that she was always safe.

Over the next few days Dominique and her mother actually bonded. Dominique could sense that her mother had changed. She wasn’t carrying on about hell all the time. She wasn’t overly critical of Dominique’s way of life. She didn’t point the finger or accuse her of being such a sinner.

“You know, I’ve been visiting different congregations,” Ms. Green told her one morning over coffee.

“What? Mama, you left the Holiness Church of Christ?” That was news to her.

“Sure did. It was hard because I’d belonged to that church for over thirty years. But, I had to go.”

“Why did you leave?” she asked, curious.

“Sometimes, you just have to find out things for yourself. One day, you just have to sit down and have a one-on-one conversation with God. He’ll lead you in the right direction. If you’re lost, He’ll lead you back on the path so that you can be found. Right now, I’m at a point where I just go where He takes me. I follow in His footsteps. When I’m too weak, I let Him carry me.”

“That’s amazing,” she said, meaning it.

“Yes it is. Nicky, you know, nobody can love you like God. And it’s that same kind of love that a man and a woman are supposed to have for one another.”

***DISCLAIMER***

This excerpt may contain strong language and/or adult content. Please read at your own discretion.

CHAPTER ONE

LaShae Byrts stepped outside to retrieve the newspaper. She just knew she’d read another headline about something happening on the south side. If it wasn’t police brutality, then someone had shot or stabbed somebody else.

Things had just died down from the recent riots they’d had when a white cop that shot a black teenager got off free- again. They had set the city on fire. Those crazy Negroes had actually burned up a news helicopter! The state ended up sending in the S.W.A.T. to calm things down. The racial tension could still be felt. The black youth of Saint Petersburg were consumed with an inner rage.

The family in the apartment to the right of LaShae stood out in the yard arguing. There had to be about nine people living in a cramped two-bedroom apartment. So many people came in and out at all times of the night. Somebody was always getting into an altercation. Last week it had been because somebody had smoked up someone else’s weed. Today, it was over the aunt sleeping with one of her niece’s baby’s daddy. Tomorrow, it would probably be over who drank all the red Kool-Aid or ate all the collard greens.

The aunt vehemently denied that anything took place, but the other niece insisted that she’d seen it with her own eyes.

“Auntie, you is lyin’!” the girl yelled. The gold teeth she tried to pass off as a grill gleamed. “I saw Danny Boy comin’ outta yo room, zippin’ up his pants!” Her hair, braided in platinum plaits, hung down her back. They swung as she argued.

“You’s a damn lie!” The aunt rolled her neck and put her hands on her hips. “If you seent him, you musta been high or drunk.” She looked her niece up and down while she moved her hand over her “waterfalls” hairdo. “And knowin’ you, you was probably both.”

“No I wasn’t! I mighta been a lil tipsy but I still know what I saw!” They pointed and got in each other’s face.

“Auntie, you ain’t nothin’ but a ho!” the other girl butt in to say. “You don’t be actin’ like nobody’s auntie. But dat’s aiight. Danny Boy ain’t no damn good anyway. You can have his ole limp dick ass! And I hope y’all used a condom ‘cause I heard he burnt his baby mama!”

“I ain’t got to worry ‘bout dat ‘cause I tol’ you I didn’t mess wit’ no damn Danny Boy. Now, y’all know me betta dan dat! I am not dat hard up for some dick. Come on now!”

“You is that hard up,” Jookie Shorty shouted out. “You know yo’ ugly ass gotta sneak up on some dick and catch it. Ain’t none comin’ ya way voluntarily.”

“What is you tryin’ to say?” The aunt forgot about the disagreement with her niece and turned on Jookie Shorty.

“You heard me. Ya ass is ugly. Ain’t nobody gonna sleep wit’ ya ugly ass willingly. In dat aspect, I don’t believe Danny Boy was ever in ya room.”

“And how the hell do you know?” the niece that had started the argument asked. “Was you there?”

“Hell naw! I don’t mess around wit’ big ol’ hambeasts like ya aunt. Hell naw I wasn’t there.”

“Then shut ya damn mouth and stay outta our business!”

“I get in whoever business I wanna get in. I’m Jookie Shorty!”

“Like somebody supposed to be scared. You ain’t nobody Jookie Shorty, wit’ ya broke, crack smokin’ ass!”

“You ain’t nobody either. None of you!” Jookie Shorty yelled back. “Just a bunch of food stamp bitches!”

“Don’t end up gettin’ ya ass stomped by these food stamp bitches!” the aunt threatened. All the women glared at him, itching to fight.

“Fuck all y’all!” he said. Ignoring them, he went back to the bicycle he’d been working on.

Drama all the time! Shae was so used to it that she didn’t even bother to show any interest. Besides, one of the girls, Tia, couldn’t stand her or her family. Their mama had gotten into it with her at the bar one Friday night. It was rumored that Mrs. Byrts had cracked Tia across the head with a barstool. Even though Tia had clearly been beat, the drunken woman had insisted upon taking the fight outside. Once outdoors, Mrs. Byrts hit her with her high heel shoe and threw her into the bushes. Tia lost her wig and had to walk home looking tore up. It had been the talk of the projects for weeks.

Tia glanced at Shae and curled her lips. Shae did the same, showing that she wasn’t the least bit concerned.

Hoes love to hate she thought. If Tia wanted a piece of her, she could bring her fat ass on. Just because Shae was cute, didn’t mean that anyone could disrespect her and get away with it. Shae had an attitude and a temper to match. She’d gotten them both from her mama. She wouldn’t back down from anybody. The bitches of the projects knew not to mess with her if they didn’t want to catch a beat down. She’d even fought some of the disrespectful boys when she was younger. The same ones were trying to get at her now. They still didn’t know how to show respect, so she wasn’t interested.

Project people made her sick. The projects made her sick. Shae hated everything about Jordan Park. The city had recently renovated the apartments, but in her opinion, it was still ghetto. No matter what they did, Jordan Park was located in the hood. Therefore, it attracted hood rats.

The majority of the women who lived in Jordan Park was younger than twenty-five and had at least one child. If they had more than one, they had different baby daddies. The baby daddies usually were locked up or didn’t take care of their children. That left the women to depend on the government for a check and food stamps. Jookie Shorty had been right in his assessment of the women: a bunch of food stamp bitches.

Usually, by the fifth of the month, most of the women would be sporting fancy hairstyles and acrylic nail tips. They’d show up at Somthin’ Different or Karma wearing new Apple Bottom, Baby Phat or J Lo brand outfits, trying to act all new. The Nine Dollar Shoe Store and the Maxi Mall would have made a major profit.

Shae didn’t just think she was better than those women, she knew she was better. The only thing they had in common was their living situations. And she blamed that on her mama. She didn’t pop out illegitimate children just so she could collect a government check each month. She didn’t hang in hole-in-the-wall clubs, trying to catch some broke pimp’s eye. Most of the men she knew, she tolerated them for one reason: they gave her money. She didn’t spread her legs or lay on her back for one red cent because she had it like that. She wasn’t a whore and even if she had to be one, she’d never be a broke one.

“Damn Red!” someone shouted, spotting her on the porch.

“What’s up, Red?” came from another person.

“That’s one hot piece of ass!”

Laughter and snickers rang out. Tia and her family members rolled their eyes, but didn’t say anything. Shae knew they just wanted what she had, jealous cows! No way could their two hundred plus pound bodies compete with her hourglass figure. She was sexy and petite, while they stood there looking like the Pillsbury Dough Boy ready to pop out of their tight clothing.

She’d overheard Tia bragging to someone about being a cheerleader in high school. She must have cheered for Hostess Cupcakes! Shae couldn’t picture her big ass at the top of a human pyramid.

LaShae smiled at all the men making fools out of themselves, trying to get her to acknowledge them. Not one of them had a chance in hell. She had to admit that she loved the attention, though.

Just to get a wilder reaction from the crowd, she bent to scoop up the newspaper that lay in the yard. She made sure to turn just so- to give the guys a sneak-peek of the black, lacy underwear she wore under her revealing, mini-skirt. This gave the envious women who were watching her every move something to talk about. Shae didn’t give a hot damn. They could go tell the white people for all she cared.

She knew the men had been looking and that was her plan. She took her time straightening up. Then, her steps were slow and deliberate as she headed back toward the apartment. She paused to shake her long, thick, shoulder-length hair.

LaShae was beautiful and she knew it. She’d discovered that at an early age. At eighteen, she’d filled out in all the right places. She possessed the body of a woman and it complemented her face. More often than not, she’d been mistaken for white because of her pale complexion. She had natural, fine, curly hair and hazel eyes, which added to her bi-racial beauty. She’d learned to use her looks to get anything she wanted. She’d decided that it would be her way out of her poverty-stricken lifestyle.

She knew it was only a matter of time before she made her escape from the hood. Her mother might be content to be poor, but she refused to be stuck with nothing but rats and cockroaches for the rest of her life. Low-income housing would be a thing of the past. She just had to save up enough money to get a place of her own.

Somebody else’s money.

“I saw ya hot tail out there teasin’,” her grandmother said as soon as Shae entered the apartment. “You gonna get ya self in a lot of trouble one of these days. Mark my words!”

Her eighty-six-year-old grandmother sat in a rocker by the window. She wore a colorful housedress and sported a stylish black wig with gray highlights. She rocked gingerly as she knitted an afghan to match the scarf she’d already made. She did it to pass the time, doubtful that either of her grandchildren would appreciate such things. They were too picky. Wanted to wear that garbage they saw the rap stars on TV wearing. Fubu or Hoodoo, Sean Thumb, whatever! Well, she was going to finish it anyway.

She’d knitted every day since she’d moved in with them three months earlier. It had become a routine. Maybe one day somebody would appreciate her efforts. Knitting took time, and it was painful due to her arthritic hands. She wasn’t going to stop, though. Not until her time on earth was up. She’d give up knitting when she gave up the ghost.

“Aw, Ma Violet, shut ya old mouth,” Shae told her. “You ain’t got nothin’ better to do than sit in that raggedy chair and be nosey all day long. Stay out of my business!”

“Fast behind lil heifer! You too hot at the mouth just like you hot between the legs. Gonna been done caught somethin’ one of these days!” Ma Violet huffed, paused her knitting, and glared at Shae.

“Just shut up, you old goat!” Shae snapped as she stomped into the kitchen. Her grandmother got on her last nerve.

“Watch how you talk to me, you high yellow wench,” Ma Violet warned. “Jus’ plain disrespectful. You cuttin’ ya blessings short and jus’ don’t know it. God don’t like ugly!”

“Whatever,” she muttered under her breath, thinking that Ma Violet had been nothing but a pain in the ass since she’d moved in. She wished the old woman would hurry up and die or something.

Shae immediately felt guilty for thinking such thoughts. Ma Violet couldn’t help being old. It wasn’t her fault that she’d fractured her hip and couldn’t live on her own any longer. She’d been forced to sell her home and move in with them. Shae knew that Ma Violet hated depending on anyone for anything. Maybe that’s why she stayed in such a sour mood. All she ever did was crochet and complain.

Shae remembered that it hadn’t always been like that. Years before, Ma Violet had been the best grandmother that a child could ever want. When her parents would take them to visit, Ma Violet would always have a special treat, just for her. She’d either have a bag of root beer flavored candy or some jellybeans. For some reason, Shae liked the black ones best.

Ma Violet used to keep large containers filled with potato chips on top of the bureau in her bedroom. Shae and Toby would sneak into her room while she was in the kitchen, open up the containers and grab a handful of barbeque and another filled with plain. They’d hide behind the couch and secretly eat them, giggling because they figured Ma Violet would never find out. By the time she had dinner on the table, neither would have much of an appetite. They would never hurt Ma Violet’s feelings by not eating her cooking, though. Instead, they’d take turns throwing most of it out the window where their dog, King, greedily ate it up. Ma Violet never knew the difference. If she’d ever caught them, she’d probably have gotten a switch off the tree and tore their legs up. She believed in the philosophy, “waste not, want not.”

Shae’s favorite memory of Ma Violet was of her being the flip lady. Every summer, the neighborhood kids raced to Ma Violet’s house to buy her flips, iced juice in paper or Styrofoam cups. Ma Violet made the best pineapple flip in all of St. Petersburg!

Ma Violet’s house had been filled with love and laughter. Everybody showed up on Thanksgiving and Christmas to celebrate family and togetherness.

On Thanksgiving, the smells of turkey, ham, pies, and cakes would have your mouth watering and your stomach grumbling. Everyone would gather around and join hands. Ma Violet would bless the food then everyone would dig in like there was no tomorrow.

After dinner, the women would clean up the kitchen and put all the leftovers away. The men would stand around sipping on eggnog laced with brandy or rum. Before everyone headed separate ways, the entire family would help to put up the Christmas decorations.

LaShae could remember standing out in the front yard and watching the Christmas lights in the windows blink. It had become such a wonderful tradition.

Christmas had been a repeat of Thanksgiving with the exchanging of gifts included in the celebrations. Shae, Toby, and their oldest sister would receive so many toys they’d have to carry them home in a Hefty garbage bag.

Everything changed when their father left and Mrs. Byrts began drinking. The visits to see Ma Violet dwindled to once a month and then quickly became nonexistent. They rarely heard from Ma Violet after moving to the projects. From time to time, she’d come over and tried to talk some sense into her daughter. Many times, after being severely beaten, her sister Vivian had run away and gone to Ma Violet’s house. It wasn’t until her accident that Ma Violet had reentered their lives.

Now, there she sat, rocking and giving Shae the evil eye.

“Shae, ya yellow ass ain’t done nothin’ I done told you to do!” her mother yelled from upstairs, startling her out of memories of the past. “When you gonna wash these smelly ass clothes and change them pissy sheets on ya brothers’ beds? You gonna have me get on ya ass, that’s what you gonna have me do!”

“Shit! You’d think I was a slave around here,” Shae griped, slamming dirty dishes into the sink and turning on the water. She hated washing dishes. She got tired of cleaning up all the time. But it wasn’t like her mother was going to do it.

“What the hell you said?” Her mother came down the stairs, her feet heavy on each step. She wore a deep frown as she glared at her daughter. “Mumblin’ to ya self gone get you hit in ya fuckin’ mouth! Get ya ass up there and get busy!”

Mrs. Byrts was a big, strong, no-nonsense type of woman. Her complexion was pale like her daughter’s, and she had the same pretty face, hazel eyes, and naturally curly hair. Even though she weighed about a hundred pounds more than she should, her attractiveness still showed. If she wanted a man, she could pull one. She just saw no use for limp dick motherfuckers. All they’d ever left her with was a wet spot on the mattress in the morning and a feeling of disappointment. She could have had a V8.

“Why I got to do every fuckin’ thang,” Shae complained.

“Girl, don’t start with me! This house better be clean when I get back from grocery shoppin’. Tell Toby to get his sorry ass up and clean out that refrigerator. If he can’t go to school like he supposed to, then he can get out and get a fuckin’ job. That go for you too, Miss Beauty Queen!” Shae rolled her eyes. “You can stand there cuttin’ ya fuckin’ eyes all you want, but when I get back the shit better be done. You know you’ll catch hell from my big ass if it ain’t!” She turned to Ma Violet. “Mama, you want something from the sto’?” She ignored Shae’s huffing and puffing. “How ‘bout some powdered donuts?”

“That’ll be fine and some Maxwell House coffee, if it ain’t too much trouble,” Ma Violet said sweetly.

“Alright. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Shae sucked air through her teeth. “Right,” she muttered. Mrs. Byrts threw her daughter a sour look, said nothing further, then slammed out the front door.

“Clean up this damn yard!” they heard as she made her way down the sidewalk.

Shae knew that her mother wouldn’t be back until some time after dark, if she made it home at all. Mrs. Byrts loved to frequent the High Hat Liquor Lounge. If she wasn’t there then she was at Tom’s game room or at the George Washington Bar. Lately, she’d been hanging out at Ike’s Liquor Lounge #2. She got around, even if it meant walking.

She hung out, played pool, gambled, and got sloppy drunk almost every night. Shae couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her mother sober. She had probably already started earlier that morning. Shae knew that she kept a stash of E & J or Paul Mason on hand.

She shook her head in order to stop thinking about it. Drinking all the time couldn’t be good for anybody. Plus, it was probably the reason her mother was always in a bad mood.

Shae turned to her grandmother, now oozing sweetness. “Ma Violet, will you wash the dishes for me?” she asked.

“Why should I? After all that sassin’ you done? Naw, I don’t think so!”

“Grandma, please! I can’t do everything she told me to do befo’ she get back,” she complained.

“If you stop standin’ there whinin’, you could done started by now.” Her grandmother had no sympathy for her.

“You old goat! I hope you swallow ya teeth!” Not being able to get her way, she resorted back to name calling and rudeness.

“I hope you get ya hot tail beat and that’s what’s gone happen if you don’t do what ya mama tol’ ya,” Ma Violet replied smugly. Shae rolled her eyes and her grandmother laughed.

Ma Violet went back to her knitting. She glanced at Shae and thought. What had happened to that little, skinny, pigtail-wearing gal who had been so sweet? Just an angel, yes she was! Couldn’t nobody tell her that her granddaughter wasn’t the prettiest, smartest lil-’ girl in the whole world.

She could remember taking her granddaughter to the store, Dr’s Pharmacy back in the day. If anybody asked her, that store had outdone any Kash N Karry or Winn Dixie. It had been owned and run by black folk. Couldn’t find too many establishments like that around anymore.

She’d take Shae there and buy her all types of candy and bows and whatnots for her hair. Occasionally, she’d purchase her some of them jacks or a bolo bat so she and her little brother could have something to play with. She got tired of them climbing in her grapefruit and orange trees. She’d even caught them in the neighbor’s mango tree. Them kids had been so rambunctious!

The holidays had been the best. It had been family time and a reason to celebrate and feast on all types of foods. She usually started picking the greens the day before and would get started on the chitterlings because they took so long to clean. Boy, she loved her some chitterlings and hog maws. They didn’t smell too good during the cleaning and cooking, but the finished product made her mouth water. She usually threw in a tad of baking soda and a top of lemon juice to take away the smell.

She’d cut up all her onions, celery, and bell peppers, too. Then she’d boil the eggs for the potato salad, make the corn bread for the homemade stuffing, and boil the sweet potatoes for the pies. The next morning, all she’d have to do was concentrate on the ham and the turkey. It had been such a great time of celebration.

How she missed those days. She’d cherished her family, always wanting to keep them close. It didn’t matter to her that Jimmy B was a Hispanic. He’d been the one her daughter had chosen to marry, so she had accepted him wholeheartedly.

When he’d run off and left her baby, she’d watched Bertha change. She started drinking that brown liquor, hanging in the streets, and whipping on her children.

Even though she believed in “-spare the rod, spoil the child,-” she didn’t go for that! No matter what’s going on inside you, you don’t ever take anything out on your own flesh and blood. She’d tried to make Bertha understand that but, Bertha didn’t want to hear nothing anybody had to say to her about raising her kids. Instead, she stopped coming around, stopped bringing the children. They stayed holed up in those god-forsaken projects not even calling to see if she was still alive! The shame of it all!

It had just about broken her heart. The only time she saw one of them kids was when the oldest one started running away. She tried to help, but from a distance. It hurt her to the core to hear about Vivian leaving home for good. She couldn’t much blame her, though. If you keep kicking a dog, one day that dog is either going to get up and bite the hell out of you, or it’s going to haul tail! Bertha should have done right by that gal. Now, nobody knew where the child had gone. Hadn’t heard from her in about six years. Her heart truly ached from missing that baby. Vivian had run off to get away from the projects because she saw first hand what it had done to her mother.

Now, here she was. Here in these dreadful projects right along with her evil hearted daughter. She had to try so hard not to let her own heart turn to stone. It would serve no purpose to become bitter. If you focus so much on your own woes, how can you find time to think about helping anybody else? The Bible says, “count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptation.” She found herself still waiting for the joy to come. Maybe it would just sneak up on her suddenly.

Ma Violet sighed. She missed her house. Her home had been paid for. It had been safe, clean and quiet. She had peace there. She didn’t worry about gunshots disturbing her sleep or drug addicts trying to break in. She didn’t even have to listen to that loud rap music that her grandson loved to play each morning. At those moments, she almost wished she’d been afflicted with a hearing problem.

Her home had been her pride and joy. Her husband had built that house from the ground up. She raised four children there and had helped raise her grandbabies there, too. She sure did wish she could have kept it. She just hadn’t been able to keep up with the maintenance of it after the accident.

But, it wasn’t anybody’s fault that she slipped in the kitchen and fractured her hip. If she wanted to blame it on something, she could blame it on old age. God had His reasons. He’d sent her to live with her daughter to serve a purpose. She hadn’t figured out just what that purpose was yet, but she’d wait patiently on the Lord. He’d let her know in due time.

Ma Violet put her knitting to the side and got up slowly from the rocker. She then grabbed her walker and eased onto it.

“I’ll do the dishes, child,” she told Shae. “It’ll give me somethin’ to do besides look out this darn window. Ain’t nothin’ out there but dry grass and po’, pitiful negroes! What’s wrong wit’ the next-do’ neighbors? All they do is fuss and fight. They got too many negroes under the same roof, if’n you ask me. And what’s the deal wit’ the man wearin’ all them clothes? Ain’t he hot? It’s near ‘bout ninety degrees out yonder.”

Shae felt the relief brought on from her laughter. Her nerves had been strung so tight lately because of her mom’s constant hounding and complaining about everything. She didn’t know how much more she could take.

Mrs. Byrts could be ruthless when she wanted to be. It was all about control. If they didn’t do things her way, she’d make sure they’d regret it. That usually came in the form of a firm, ass whipping. It didn’t matter to Mrs. Byrts that Shae was almost grown and Toby was a six-foot-tall fourteen year old. It was her way or the highway.

“Thank you Ma Violet,” she told her grandmother. “I’m goin’ upstairs to get the twins’ room cleaned up.”

“Okay.” Ma Violet watched her granddaughter run up the stairs. She could picture that little girl wearing pigtails once again and it brought her joy. Where had all the years gone? If it was one thing she could testify to, it was that God had been good to her. For more than eighty-eight years, she’d been truly blessed.

“Lord, I thank you,” she shouted and made toward the kitchen.

Shae turned the knob on the first door that she approached and cracked it open. She took a step back because of the smell. She held her nose, opening the door all the way.

“Whew! Ugg!” The strong, unwelcoming scent of urine assaulted her nostrils. Her six-year-old, twin brothers had wet their beds again. That made the second time that week. She resented the extra work but knew she had to do it because her mama sure wasn’t going to. Shae had long since resigned herself to the fact that her mama looked on them as her personal servants. She still didn’t like it, though.

Going over to the window, she threw them open, hoping the circulating air would help. She snatched the identical Sponge Bob sheets off the bunk beds and tossed them on the floor. She figured she’d just as well wash the pillows and pillowcases, too. Both boys slept curled around them and they smelled just as bad as the sheets.

Loud music interrupted the quietness of the morning, signaling that her brother Toby had awakened. He always blasted his music, not having concern for anybody else in the house.

“Toby! Turn that shit down!” she yelled but the volume only increased. She grabbed the soiled items and took them to the laundry room. She threw them into the washing machine with some detergent. “Toby!” She called again because the loud music was starting to give her a headache. She slammed the lid on the washing machine closed and turned the knob to the correct setting. Once she heard the water running into the machine, she went to Toby’s room.

Shae tried the knob but found the door locked. She knocked a few times but got no answer. Finally, she pounded on the door with her fist. She knew he heard her and it pissed her off that he wasn’t answering.

“What?” Toby opened the door so abruptly that she stumbled into the bedroom and almost fell on the carpeted floor. His handsome face turned into a smirk as his sister glared at him. “That’s what you get,” he teased.

“Shut up!”

“What the fuck you want? Why you knockin’ like you the po po?” Toby was tall and thin. At fourteen, he was still maturing. His seemed to be all arms and legs. “What it do?”

“Mama want you to clean out the refrigerator,” she said.

“So what?” He didn’t seem concerned.

“So what, my ass! Clean it out, damnit! I’m not gettin’ in trouble for you.”

“Get outta my face!” He pointed his finger at her, trying to appear menacing. His sister knew that he was only playing. He towered above her but she would bust his ass if he ever tried her. Shae had a vile temper when somebody set her off. He’d witnessed her beat down quite a number of people. She’d had his back more than a few times. She didn’t take shit off of anybody except for Mrs. Byrts- but only because their mama was slap crazy.

“Come on, Toby. Please,” she pleaded.

“What I get out the deal?” He squinted his eyes.

“You can hold any of my CDs for a week.”

“Even the new ones?”

“Well, okay,” she relented.

“Eminem?” he pressed.

“Yeah, that one too. I said any of them!” she snapped.

“I don’t wanna hold CDs,” he said, changing his mind suddenly. “I want money.” She stared at him and he glared back.

“How much?” she asked, giving in. She really needed his cooperation. The last thing she wanted to do was clean a damn refrigerator on top of everything else.

“Twenty.”

“Boy, you must be on hard drugs! Where you think I get twenty dollars from?” she exclaimed.

“I know you got money. You was wit’ Larry and James las’ night, and I know at least one of them upped a few duckies.” His smirk grew wider. He knew he had his sister in a bind. She’d give him the money because she could get more where that came from. “So, what’s the deal?” he pressed.

“You need to get a job! I’m tired of bein’ blackmailed by you.”

“You givin’ me the money or what?” he asked.

“Ten dollars and not a cent more.”

“Ten?” He contemplated it. “Do I get to hold the CDs?”

“Yeah! You make me sick with ya lazy ass.”

“You still love me though.” He started dancing around the room to the rap song that blasted from his stereo.

“Do the cupid shuffle!” he chanted. “To the left, to the left-“

“Toby, stop clowning.”

“To the right to the right-“

“Toby, I’m trying to talk to you.”

“What girl?” he asked, irritated. “You messing up my flow.” He stopped dancing and glared at her.

“You know you really ought to be in school,” she told him in a serious tone.

“Why? You don’t go,” he said with a defiant glint in his eye.

“I’m almost eighteen years old. You are only fourteen.”

“So what? I hate school!” he spat.

“You didn’t used to hate it. You were popular in middle school and then you get to high school, and you hate it -What happened?”

He shrugged. “I was the shit in middle school, but thangs was dif’rent in the ninth grade. The older kids picked on us all the time. I felt like punchin’ niggas out.”

“They do that to all the underclassmen. You’ll get yo turn next year when you become a sophomore,” she said.

“No, I won’t cause I ain’t goin’ back to that bitch,” he snapped. He would never tell her about how the kids taunted him about his no name shoes and bargain store clothing. He wouldn’t dare step foot in that school again to deal with that because he knew he would go off on any and everybody there.

“Then what you gonna do with the rest of ya life, huh? If you don’t get an education, how you figure you gonna get out the projects?”

“How you gonna get out?” He threw the question back at her. He wanted to end the conversation. Thinking about how the kids had picked on him touched on a soft spot. It irritated him because he’d thought he’d gotten over that.

“I’m a woman. I have what men want and they willin’ to pay for it. That’s how I’m gettin’ out,” she stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

Toby threw back his head and laughed. “In that case,” he finally managed to say. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere. You gonna be a project ho ‘til ya die!”

“You don’t what you talkin’ about, dumb ass.” His insulting words cut into her, making her angry. “You’ll see. And it might be sooner than you think!” She flounced out of his room and slammed the door.

“Don’t be slammin’ my door,” he yelled behind her. “Heifer!”

Shae went into her own room and locked the door. She pulled up the carpet in the corner. She kept her stash underneath the padding. She reached down and retrieved the money. It made her tingle when she began to count out the tens, twenties, and even a few fifties. She’d conned the money out of lovesick, dumb ass men. When she finished counting, she had close to fifteen hundred dollars. That wasn’t bad, for somebody else’s money.

With a self-satisfied smirk, she added another fifty dollars to the pile. She’d easily gotten James Wallace to give her thirty by letting him fondle her breasts. She’d even gone so far as to let him suck on the delicate nipples. When he’d tried to go further, she’d made an excuse about it being that time of the month. With a disgusted look on his face, he’d pushed her away.

She’d gotten the other twenty from Larry Walker to buy some chicken from Churches. He’d been so drunk that she doubted he remembered giving her the money. Larry never expected anything in return. He was always a respectful, gentleman.

Shae remembered how James had played with her breasts and it caused a warm sensation between her legs. James was extremely handsome and damn was he fine! She knew that he wanted to get with her, but she wasn’t ready to give up her virginity--especially, not to anyone from the projects. She considered herself much too good for any of the neighborhood riff-raff.

Besides, James was twenty and he still lived with his mama. He’d gotten several girls pregnant and would shack up with one or the other until they’d kick him out. Then, he’d go right back to his mama’s place. He had no motivation, no skills, and seemed happy to drift from one dead-end job to the next.

No, she wasn’t about to give in to James. It didn’t matter to her how good looking he was or how he made her feel. The urge to have a hard, stiff dick would pass. If it got too intense, she could always rely on the vibrator she kept on the top shelf in her closet. It was a slim vibrator that she used to stimulate her clit. She’d occasionally insert it inside slowly, but not far enough to rupture her hymen. She didn’t want to lose her virginity that way, so she was careful.

She felt like taking it out at that moment but knew there wasn’t enough time to get any real pleasure. She had too much to do, thanks to her fat ass mama.

She sighed, put the money back into its secret place and walked over to her jewelry box. In the little drawer, she kept a few bucks. She grabbed a $5 and five ones for Toby. She really didn’t care about giving him the money because she could always get more. She ignored the twinge between her legs and left the room.

CHAPTER TWO

After Shae had left his room, Toby locked his door to make sure that no one else would enter unannounced, like his mama. He hadn’t needed the ten dollars that he’d gotten from his sister. He had money and plenty of it. He pulled a shoebox from under his bed and lifted the lid. Money spilled over the edges and on top of the pile of green lay a gun.

He didn’t know how he’d gotten mixed up in the dope gang and talked into selling drugs, but somehow that’s exactly what had happened. Now, he had to sell or face some serious consequences.

He sat on the edge of the bed and let his head fall into his hands. How could he get out without dying? He didn’t want to sell drugs anymore. It had been all glitz and glamour for a minute, but now it had lost its appeal. Though he would never admit it to Shae, he wished he could just go back to school and lead a normal life.

Shae wouldn’t understand if he told her. She’d try to talk him out of it, as if it was that easy. And his mother had never been the kind of mother that he could confide in. Besides, if and when she found out, he would probably get the hell kicked out of him. He was determined not to let that happened. His home life had prompted him to get involved with drugs in the first place. He’d started hanging out with some boys he went to school with just to get away from his mean ass mama. That’s when he’d been introduced to all kinds of drugs at a young age.

Before he could let common sense stop him, Toby began smoking marijuana and associating with drug dealers. He had become the look out, alerting crack and weed dealers of anyone suspicious in the area.

He figured selling drugs wasn’t all that hard to do and the money was practically instant, so he dropped out of school to become a full time dealer. He wasn’t worried about getting caught. Everybody he knew sold drugs and they never got caught. Even if he did get arrested, he’d receive a slap on the wrist, He could handle it.

He was rolling in the Benjamins, but he couldn’t spend it freely because his mama would find out, and he’d be damned if he’d give it away. He spent a little here and there on girls, but knew all about gold digging tricks. They had their palms out so often they resembled collection plates. They needed fancy hairdos, expensive jewelry, and new clothes. They wanted some dumb ass busta who would pay their light bill or go half on the rent. A trick would settle for whatever she could get but he wasn’t a paymaster.

He’d never fall for their lame lines even though they threw themselves at him constantly. They shook their tits at him and jiggled their ass, encouraging him to touch. Some had even gone so far as to show him their nookie – twirking it all up in his face, like that was going to change his mind. But, he wasn’t ready for sex. He knew that he was handsome and had a nice physique at his age. Some grown women even lusted after him. He just wasn’t ready to go that route. He felt that sex was overrated anyway and he could wait.

Toby smiled wickedly as he thought about the women who’d tried him. He wouldn’t go all the way, but he would let them give him a little slow smoking head, though. Even then, he’d make sure to use a condom. He wasn’t about to catch anything from some nasty skank. Besides, he heard about how some women would suck a nigga dry but not swallow the semen. They’d go into the bathroom and use a turkey baster to insert the sperm into them in an effort to trap a nigga. He’d be damned if anyone would be able to walk around saying he was their baby’s daddy! Being a teenaged father was the last thing he needed or wanted. When the time came, he knew how to protect himself. He had a top dresser drawer filled with Trojan condoms, just in case.

When Mrs. Byrts returned, Shae had taken the last basket of clothes out of the dryer. She’d cleaned the twins’ room and put fresh sheets on their beds. She’d vacuumed all the rooms and the hallway upstairs and had mopped the kitchen floor. The two bathrooms had been scrubbed clean: no ring around the tub, toothpaste or hair in the sink, and no smudges on the mirror. Shae made sure not to leave even a streak on the shower door. Something like that would cause Mrs. Byrts to flip out and have her redo everything.

Shae remembered one time when Toby hadn’t taken out the garbage after he’d been told.

Mrs. Byrts came home, saw the overflowing garbage can and became enraged. She picked up the garbage pail and dumped its contents on a sleeping Toby. After a few times of being awakened to the smell of funk, Toby learned to take the garbage out without being told.

Toby had cleaned out the refrigerator because he knew how their mama could get. Ma Violet had washed, dried, and put the dishes away. The entire apartment was in order, but Mrs. Byts still frowned after gazing around. You would think she’d be happy, but she wasn’t. Nothing ever seemed to please the woman. She complained about the living room not being vacuumed. Shae just rolled her eyes. What was wrong with her arms? As big as she was, she could easily pull a vacuum cleaner across the floor faster than Shae could do it.

“Toby, carry them groceries inside,” she ordered. Toby, not up for a confrontation, complied. When he placed the last bag on the table, he turned toward his mama. He could tell she wasn’t in a good mood, which was nothing new. She was ticking like a time bomb, and he wouldn’t wait around for the explosion. Besides, he had things to do. He wasn’t about to sit in the house like a prisoner of war and listen to his sour mama. That was out! He didn’t understand how his sister put up with it. In a few minutes, he would be missing in action, in places that even his mama wouldn’t go.

Mrs. Byrts entered the kitchen as he flew by her in a flash and said, “Mama, I’m goin’ to Doug’s house.” The front door closed behind him before she could react.

“He mus’ have a girlfriend he tryin’ to get to, high tailin’ it outta here like that,” Ma Violet mused, chuckling.

“As long as he don’t make no babies, he can have all the girlfriends he wants,” Mrs. Byrts said. “Shae put these groceries away. My back is hurtin’.”

Shae frowned. Toby always did whatever he wanted and she got stuck with all the work. Pretty soon the twins would be home from school. She’d have to help them with their homework then cook dinner because her mother refused to cook for “over-grown ass children.” That meant she’d have more dishes to wash. Plus, she’d have to bathe her younger siblings and get them ready for bed.

Shae felt the anger building inside her but choked it down. It wasn’t the twins’ fault that they had a fat, lazy ass mama. Maybe if Mrs. Byrts would get off the couch and do something…

After putting away the groceries, Shae went to her room. She couldn’t stand it when her mama was home. She hogged the television in the living room, watching talk shows and The Young & the Restless. Shae hated soap operas and liked to watch B.E.T. all day. If she did happen to watch anything else, it had to be interesting. Most TV shows bored the hell out of her. In her opinion, none of them bordered on reality not even the reality television shows like The Real World. The projects, now that was real.

Shae wanted to go to her cousin, Tashae’s house but knew that was out of the question. If her mama was home, she couldn’t go anywhere. Even though she was almost grown, her mama treated her like a baby. The only times she got to go anywhere was when her mama went to work or out drinking. She kept wishing Mrs. Byrts would leave, but every time she went downstairs to check, she found her mama still parked on the couch.

She didn’t dare ask permission to go over to Tashae’s. If she did, then her mama would start ranting and raving, calling her all types of names like tramp, streetwalker, or ho. Mrs. Byrts constantly accused Shae of being a slut and compared her to Vivian. Shae remembered that her sister Vivian had gotten pregnant at age fifteen. Shae hadn’t even had sex and she was seventeen years old. But to let her mama tell it, she was the biggest ho in Jordan Park, in all of St. Petersburg.

Bored with staring at four walls Shae went outside to sit on the front porch. She watched the older students walking from their bus stops. It made her think about high school and what she was missing out on. Had she not quit, she’d be in the twelfth grade. She’d probably be excited, looking forward to Grad Night, Senior Prom and graduation. But, she’d been robbed of those memories because she’d dropped out in the tenth grade.

Her mother didn’t even care that she stopped going to school. Since Shae would be home all day, she’d been ordered to take care of the twins. She’d done that until they’d gotten old enough to attend kindergarten.

Now, she stared at the teenagers with envy. They all looked so happy and carefree. Some of the girls stood in short skirts with their legs shiny from lotion, gazing at the boys who stood a few feet away. The boys with zigzag braids or low cut fades talked animatedly about their latest CDs or video games. A few lagged behind, smoking. She wondered if any of them had to take care of their younger siblings every day. Did their mamas get drunk, cuss them out and beat them all the time?

Another large, yellow bus pulled to a noisy stop and more students filed off. Shae saw faces pressed up against the windows gazing at her. When the bus drove off, she felt a deep sadness and sighed. Maybe one day she’d be able to go back to school and get her GED. She knew she had to do something.

“Shae!” her mama called through the screen door.

“Ma’am?”

“Brang ya ass in here and help ya grandma to the bathroom.”

Shae gritted her teeth. Why did she have to help? She didn’t understand why Mrs. Byrts couldn’t do it herself. Her mother was the certified nursing assistant and worked as a home health aide. She just shook her head, got up and went inside to do her mother’s bidding.

At a quarter after three the door burst open and in ran the twins. They immediately began to demand things until Shae stopped them with a glare.

“Charles and Chris, go upstairs, get out of ya school clothes, then come on back down and watch cartoons until I get dinner ready,” she instructed. They knew better than to disobey her because she would grab a belt and wear their behinds out. They could sense her anger and thought they caused it because of the soiled sheets. They went up the stairs quietly. Five minutes later, they trudged back down with freshly scrubbed hands and faces. She hadn’t had to tell them to do it.

They didn’t dare argue over which cartoons to watch as they usually did. The boys knew from experience that the slightest thing could set their sister’s temper off. Neither wanted to feel the sting of the belt. But, they’d rather get a spanking from Shae than from their mother on any given day.

Shae notice Charles take a sideways glance at their mother who sat on the couch. He didn’t want to chance making her angry. Most of the time, she just ignored them unless they did something she felt warranted a beating. Then, she’d attack them viciously with whatever she could lay her hands on. At times like that, Shae would intervene and usually ended up taking the brunt of the beating. She couldn’t stand to watch her mother punish the twins because the woman had no mercy.

Thankfully, nothing happened to unleash her fury. That day, she seemed almost happy. She’d even bought some powdered donuts that she gave to Ma Violet and the twins. From the kitchen, Shae glared at her in resentment. She really couldn’t stand the woman!

Once she’d prepared dinner, Shae called the twins to the table. They sat down, said Grace, and began to eat. She had fried some chicken wings, cooked rice and heated up some corn. Charles and Chris loved chicken, so they didn’t complain. Truthfully, they were good boys and rarely complained about anything. Shae didn’t understand why their mother treated them like redheaded stepchildren.

“Mama, can I go to the sto’?” she finally asked, needing to get out and stretch her legs.

“Go ‘head,” Mrs. Byrts grunted.

“Don’t let them brats go in my room,” she said.

“If they go in there, that’s they damn business,” she replied. “Should lock ya do’” Mrs. Byrts replied.

“What I gotta lock it for? They should jus’ stay out. It won’t stay locked anyway. All they have to do is shake on it and it’ll pop open.”

“What you got in there that’s so impo’tant?” Ma Violet tooted. Shae didn’t bother to answer her.

“Jus’ go to the sto’ and stop naggin’.” Mrs. Byrts snapped. “If they go in ya room, beat they asses! Shit! Jus’ leave me the fuck alone ‘bout it. Ok?”

Shae sighed. She’d grown tired of being the one to discipline the twins. They weren’t her children. It seemed like her mother had forgotten that fact. She loved her brothers and didn’t want to hurt one of them. It could happen. Each day it got harder to cope with all of the pressure, not to mention her mother’s attitude. She got yelled at and cursed out constantly as well as belittled on a daily basis.

Shae could understand why Vivian, her oldest sister, had left when she turned sixteen. She wondered where Vivian had gone and felt a sudden sadness. Vivian had run off and freed herself, and she was still left behind in hell.

“Thought you said you was goin’ to the sto’?” Her mom’s voice cut into her thoughts.

“I am,” she snapped. “Vivian is lucky she got away,” she thought as she squinted at her mother and felt something close to hatred burn in her chest.

“Bring me back one of them pickled, pig feet and a two liter bottle of Pepsi. Get some instant oatmeal for ya grandma’s breakfast,” the woman demanded. “And get another box of powdered donuts, too. This one ‘bout empty.”

“Didn’t you just go grocery shoppin’?”

“And?”

“Don’t seem like it.” Shae sucked air between her teeth, irritated.

“You mus’ not want to leave this house,” Mrs. Byrts threatened, eyes narrowing. “Get what I told you to get.”

“Okay!” Shae hurried out the door, grumbling under her voice. She couldn’t wait to get out of there so that she could breathe.

Once outside, she could immediately feel the men’s eyes bore into her and it boosted her ego. She might be nothing in her mother’s eyes, but out in the streets, she could be anyone she wanted. She felt beautiful and desirable. She felt like a queen.

“Hey, Shae, wait up!” She turned when someone called her and saw Larry Walker. Shae felt apprehensive but Larry just smiled when he approached her. She knew that if he was upset about her taking his money last night, he wouldn’t be cheesing it up in her face now.

“What’s up?” he greeted. “Girl, you sho look good! Good enuff to eat!” He laughed. Larry had a medium complexion. He was well built for a guy of eighteen. He fell in-between cute and handsome because of a birthmark that covered a great portion of the left side of his face. It was much lighter than the rest of his skin and it stood out. He had beautiful, soul-searching brown eyes.

“What’s up Larry?” she asked. For some reason, she always felt happy when she saw him. She couldn’t remember a day since she’d met him in the second grade that he hadn’t been around.

“Not much. I was headin’ to the sto’. Seem like you headed in the same direction. Mind if a nigga like myself tag along?”

“Larry, you know I don’t mind.”

“Just makin’ sure! I mean, you all beautiful and shit. I don’t want none of this ugliness to rub off on ya!”

“Larry, you know I don’t like hearin’ you talk like that. Stop puttin’ yaself down.”

Larry threw her a surprised look. He’d never heard her speak like that before. In the past when he made negative comments about his looks, she’d add to it. He’d expected her to say something like, “You ain’t ugly, but that spot coverin’ half ya face is!” Momentarily speechless, he just looked at Shae.

“You ok?” he asked, finally finding his voice.

“Yeah. Why?”

“I don’t know. You just seem different or somethin’.”

“Naw. I’m ok,” she assured. “I jus’ had an argument with my mama again. She gets on my fuckin’ nerves.”

“Oh?” Larry fell silent. Once more, Shae had shocked him. He’d never heard her talk negatively about her family. Until then, he’d thought everything was perfect.

“I can’t wait to get outta here,” she went on. “These damn projects make my ass itch!”

“I know what you mean. I have an opportunity to break free and I’m gonna take it.”

“You don’t live in the projects,” she reminded.

“I might as well,” he said bitterly, because he lived directly across the street from them. He’d associated with project folk most of his life. All of his friends lived there. He considered himself just as hood and ghetto as the next nigga from the projects.

“What you gonna do, start sellin’ drugs?” The question came out like an accusation. She stopped walking and glared at him, waiting for his response.

“Hell naw, girl! I ain’t with that shit. That’ll fuck a nigga’s life up. Besides, after what happened to my mama–” His voice trailed off and he looked angrier than she’d ever seen him. “Hell no,” he repeated, shaking his head. “I’m gettin’ out the clean way. I’m goin’ to college, to the Art Institute of Fort Lauderdale. I just found out today that I got a full art scholarship.” He looked down at his feet as if embarrassed to share the information.

“That shit is tight, Larry!” she congratulated. “I’m happy for you.” They continued to walk.

“Thanks,” he mumbled graciously. He hadn’t told anyone yet. He’d wanted to share the news with Shae first- that’s why he’d been heading to her place when he’d run into her.

“At least you ain’t wastin’ ya talents. I wish I was smart like you or could draw or somethin’,” she said.

“You got talents, Shae. You just don’t know what they is yet- and it ain’t sex.” he said strongly.

“I know that. I jus’ can’t do nothin’! School bored the hell out of me. That’s why I quit.” Larry didn’t bother asking her to elaborate on why she’d dropped out of high school.

They had walked to the bus stop together every morning since second grade. During their tenth grade year, she’d started acting different, missing days, looking tired, dragging. Suddenly, one day, Shae stopped coming altogether. After about a week, he stopped by her place to find out if something had happened to her. She said she wasn’t going back to school. When he questioned her at the time, she damn near cussed him out. He left it alone then, just as he was going to do now.

“What do you like doin’?” he asked, instead.

She sighed in frustration. “I don’t know. For some reason, I just like curtains. I know it sounds silly, but I picture myself sewin’ all kinds of curtains and drapes. It’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not stupid,” he told her sincerely. “It’s a vision and visions ain’t stupid. My aunt say that we should write down our visions and they’ll come into bein’,” he told her. “Whatever you set ya mind to, you can do it. You are too damn pretty to just waste away in a place like the projects.”

They reached the store, which had been converted from an old gas station. Men sat around a rickety card table playing Spades, smoking cigars, drinking Colt 45 and Budweiser. Others stood around watching the game. They all stopped momentarily to stare lustfully at Shae when she approached.

“Hot damn. Tenderoni!” one man yelled. “Will you be my wife?” Everybody laughed and hooted. Larry didn’t find it amusing at all. He ushered Shae into the store.

“Man, that you?” a teenager heading out asked him as he surveyed Shae with appreciation. “Girl, is ya husband married?” he whispered to Shae.

“Man, what the fuck you lookin’ at?” Larry challenged. “Yeah, she my lady.”

The guy threw up his hands. “Ain’t nothin’ man! Jus’ askin’.” He jumped on his bicycle and rode off.

“That nigga on a bike and tryin’ to holla. Why would you want a broke pimp?”

Shae laughed. “Why did you lie to that boy?”

“Just made myself feel good. I wish I could have a lovely girl like you. That’s an impossible dream.” Shae just smiled and walked ahead of him. She cared about Larry more than he knew. But, some things were better left unsaid.

Shae’s ass immediately enraptured the old man behind the counter. He failed to notice three kids stuffing candy bars under their shirts. Larry caught wind of it though and chuckled.

“Yo Pops, EBP?” Larry asked when the man continued to eye Shae up and down. He was smacking his lips like he was getting ready for a tasty treat.

“W-what was that, boy?” The man stopped staring at Shae and turned his attention to Larry.

“I said, EBP?” Larry repeated.

“What’s that, some new kinda drug?” he asked in a suspicious tone. “Ain’t gonna be none of that up in here, son!”

“No, it means, do you have an eye ball problem? I see you sweatin’ my lady. What’s up?” He held up his hands in a questioning gesture.

“Aw boy, all I can do is look.” He waved Larry off good-naturedly. “I’m too damn old to do anythin’ else. No harm intended. You got ya self one fine young lady.” He leaned closer to Larry and lowered his voice. “You got that yet?” he whispered.

“Got what yet?”

“You know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout boy. You ain’t dumb, is ya?”

“Old man, you a border line perv! Do you order women’s panties on-line?” He saw Shae walking toward the front of the store. “Hey Shae, guess what this man just asked me?”

“What?” Shae inquired, placing the items she’d gotten on the counter top.

“You don’t even wanna know!” Larry laughed. “He asked me if I got me some yet?”

“That ain’t his fuckin’ business!” Shae said rather loudly. The kids that had been stealing stood at the front of the store edging toward the door. They giggled loudly. The man paused from ringing up Shae’s items and glared at them.

“Y’all sticky fingered lil bastards, get on outta my sto’!” he yelled. They gave him the finger and ran out. He leaned over the counter, craning his neck to yell behind them. “I knows all ya folks! Don’t get it twisted!” He turned back to Shae as if he hadn’t stopped talking to her at all. “I know it ain’t my business, but you sho look mighty fine. Mighty fine!”

“Stop foamin’ at the mouth and finish ringin’ her up,” Larry told him impatiently. He didn’t care if the man had one foot in the grave; he was flirting with his woman.

“Awright! Awright! You ain’t gotta yell. Shit! Fuckin’ young ass fuckas dese days ain’t got no damn respect,” he mumbled as he threw the stuff into a brown paper bag.

“What’s up, old man? You want me to come cross this damn counter?” Larry challenged. Shae knew that he was joking, but she wasn’t sure if the old man knew.

“Larry, come on and stop messin’ with that man. He might have a heart attack,” she said.

“Only thang gone make me have a heart attack is you, Suga,” the man responded, winking at Shae. “I’ll try that Viagra drug for you. You one fine, sweet young thang. Make a man wish he was fifty years younger.”

“Please! If you was fifty years younger, you’d still be about sixty!” she threw over her shoulder as she grabbed her purchases and sashayed away.

Grandpa had a lot of nerves, trying to hit on her. He’d probably give her worms. Besides, she wasn’t in the market for a sugar granddaddy. She doubted he could afford her on the chump change he made working at the store and his social security check all put together.

“Girl, if you belonged to me, I’d have to lock you up,” Larry said, half joking, half serious. “You get too much attention. I’d be too jealous.”

They watched as a white Chevy Caprice pulled up in front of the store. It caught Shae’s attention because of the spinning rims and the loud music blasting from the amps in the trunk.

“Damn Red!” The guy on the passenger’s side leaned out the window. He had big teeth and resembled the actor that played JJ on Good Times. “What’s yo name?” He ignored Larry who scowled at him.

“Come on, Shae. You don’t need to mix with them kind of people,” Larry said lowly.

“Go on Larry. I’ll catch up with you. I won’t be but a few minutes.” Larry stood there with a defiant look on his face. “Go on, shit! I ain’t no damn baby needin’ to be watched,” she snapped.

With reluctance, Larry headed off. He moved slowly and looked back several times. Finally, he just threw up his hands and started walking at a normal pace. He turned the corner and was out of sight.

“What’s up, Red? What’s yo name?” the

***DISCLAIMER***

This excerpt may contain strong language and/or adult content. Please read at your own discretion.

Chapter One

Checking her hair and makeup in the rearview mirror, Vicki Holiday caught a glimpse of something that initially startled her. She stared for a while to make sure it wasn’t a figment of her imagination. Her initial shock soon turned into anger.

“That bastard is following me again. When will he stop?” She realized that she was talking to herself, but didn’t care. She was fed up with her ex-boyfriend, Terrence James. This had to be the fifth time she’d caught him following her.

She looked again to make sure she hadn’t mistaken his vehicle. She hadn’t. It was definitely him, and confirming this fact only made Vicki clench her teeth. She couldn’t go anywhere without encountering Terrence’s annoying presence. He needed to stop harassing her. She was about to go off on him.

When she first realized what he’d been up to, she’d tried reasoning with him, but that hadn’t worked. When he’d shown up to a few other places she’d been, she’d tried ignoring him. However, Terrence wasn’t easy to ignore, especially when he made sure that he was seen. He just couldn’t seem to get the message in his head that she didn’t want to be bothered by him. She’d been too nice trying to get her point across. Now, it was obviously time for her to handle things differently.

She picked up her Sprint flip cell phone lying on the passenger’s seat and punched in his number. She used to have it programmed in her phone, but she’d deleted it. She wished she could do the same to him. Just delete his tired ass right out of her life. If only it could be that easy.

“What’s up?” Terrence’s smooth tones vibrated through the receiver when he answered.

“Don’t what’s up me,” she snapped. “Are you following me, Terrence?”

“No,” he said, casually.

“Yes, you are,” she said, hotly. “I see you behind me.”

“I’m heading to my grandma’s house,” he told her. “I’m not following you.”

“Terrence, your grandmother doesn’t live in this area. Besides, why would you be going to her house at almost one o’clock in the morning?” He was such a liar. She sucked air through her teeth.

“I had to move in with her since you kicked me out,” he said accusingly. “I understand that you’re mad. I get that. But, can you at least talk to me? Then, I wouldn’t have to follow you around.”

“So, you’re admitting that you’ve been following me?”

“I didn’t admit anything,” he said, quickly. “I can’t help it if I end up where you are. This is a small city.” He became impatient. “Forget the small talk, shit. Can we talk?”

“I have nothing further to say to you. Do you know that you are pathetic?” She couldn’t resist the insult.

“I see you’re turning bitter. I really don’t understand what I did that was so unforgivable.”

His nonchalant tone infuriated her further. “Are you fucking serious?” she practically yelled. “You know what, whatever, Terrence. I’m wasting my time talking to you. But before I hang up, I want you to understand this. Get it through your fucking head, okay? I don’t want shit else to do with you. Do you understand? Stop calling my job. Don’t call my house or my cell phone. Stop dropping by my apartment and stop stalking me,” she said through gritted teeth, and disconnected.

She felt the fury boil inside her and wanted to slam the cell phone against the windshield. She wanted to hit something- someone- mainly Terrence.

The cellular phone rang, but she ignored it. She didn’t want to talk to Terrence anymore. He was an idiot.

Once Terrence realized that she wasn’t going to accept his calls, he began flashing his headlights behind her. He even turned on his high beams. What an asshole.

She found it hard to believe that a little over a month ago, she’d thought he was the man of her dreams. She’d even considered marrying him.

“Vicki,” she heard Terrence calling. He’d pulled up next to her in the left lane and lowered his window. “Vicki, talk to me. We can work it all out. I love you,” he yelled through the opened window.

She let her window down and shouted, “Leave me alone.” She glared at him as all of the pain resurfaced. “I don’t love you,” she hurled.

For a second, a hurt look crossed Terrence’s face then he turned ugly. “Bitch,” he swore. “You’re going to talk to me. I’ll be damned if it ends. It ain’t over unless I say so.”

She tried to put as much venom in her words as she could. “Kiss my ass, Terrence.” With that insult delivered, she rolled up her window and sped off.

Terrence honked his horn repeatedly. She ignored him, turning down another street to get away. He swerved into the lane behind her, following in hot pursuit. She picked up speed. He did the same. Terrence began trailing her so closely that she was certain she’d feel his F150 hit the back of her Honda. She suddenly felt genuine fear. Would he run her off the road? Was he trying to cause an accident?

She picked up her cell again and entered his number. “Terrence, what are you doing?” She asked when he answered. She could hear the tremble in her voice, so she was certain he heard it, too.

“I’m just trying to get your attention. Do I have it now?” he asked sarcastically.

“You’re scaring me. Can you slow down before you run into me?”

“Are we going to talk?” he demanded to know.

She sighed audibly. “Okay. Okay. Let’s go to Starbucks. Turn right at the next light.”

“Don’t play, Vicki,” he growled. “You’d better be there.”

The only reason she agreed to talk was Terrence seemed to be on the verge of doing something stupid. She’d never seen that side of him and frankly, she didn’t care for it. If push came to shove, she’d get the police involved.

Terrence had to accept the fact that their relationship was finished. It was dead and buried. His cheating had been the nail in the coffin.

She pulled into a vacant parking space in front of Starbucks. Terrence had to drive around to find one because the coffee house was crowded. She waited for him to appear before exiting her car.

Inside, they were lucky to find a table that some college students recently vacated.

“So, Terrence, what do you possibly need to say to me?” she asked as soon as they sat down. Her arms were crossed over her chest, showing her obvious irritation and annoyance.

“Vicki, you’ve been avoiding me for weeks,” he stated, ignoring her discontent and anger.

“What did you expect? I walk into our apartment and find you and some skank with her feet up to Jesus. You’re lucky that avoid you is all I do,” she said tightly.

“That girl didn’t mean anything to me, Vicki,” Terrence began, but she cut him off.

“Is that supposed to justify your actions? Is that what you’re telling me?” Her eyes flashed.

“No. I’m not saying that,” he whined.

“How could you fuck someone else, Terrence? And in our bed? The bed that we shared?” She hadn’t realized how much that hurt until now. Damn. It really hurt.

“I wasn’t thinking. I just got caught up in the moment,” Terrence explained. “That girl threw herself at me. It was just supposed to be oral sex, but one thing led to another.”

“So, if she’d just sucked your dick that would have been okay?” She smirked with distaste.

“Well-” he shrugged. “I mean, a little head ain’t nothing. That doesn’t constitute cheating.”

“If you believe that, then what am I supposed to think? Maybe you’ve been getting a little head all along,” she snapped.

“Naw, that’s out. I haven’t been with anyone before Tenesha. No one except you,” he added softly. He reached for her hand. “I made a mistake.”

“You are right about that.” Her eyes shot daggers at him as she snatched her hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

“Vicki, I fucked up. I’m sorry. I can’t go on without you. You know you are my life.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You should have thought about that before you stuck your dick in some whore.”

“Don’t be like that, Vicki,” he pleaded. “We can get past this. We can even set a date,” he said, licking his lips anxiously. “I’m finally ready to get married.”

Vicki stared at him incredulously. Did he honestly think that they could just shove what had happened under the rug and move on? She was supposed to forget that he’d cheated? The fact that their three-year relationship meant so little to him he’d risk it for a taste of different ass infuriated her. Mainly, she couldn’t believe how little he valued her after they’d been together for so long. He’d obviously mistaken her for a dumb bitch who’d accept any type of treatment from a man.

She’d often heard, “once a cheater, always a cheater.” She wouldn’t take Terrence back even if she wanted to, though that was the furthest thing from her mind.

“Terrence, I wouldn’t marry you now even if you were the only available male left of earth,” she said evenly. He had the nerve to look surprised by her statement. “You cheated on me. Not only did you destroy the trust that I had in you, you may have put my health at risk.”

He held up a hand. “No, I didn’t do that. I used protection,” he insisted.

“You can tell me anything. Anyway-” she said curtly, “I don’t care. The fact that you could sleep with someone else showed me just how deeply you care about me. Terrence, it’s over. I don’t want anything else to do with you.”

He stared at her in silence until her words finally registered in his brain. “You’re making a big mistake. I refuse to let you go. Vicki, don’t do this,” he begged.

“Don’t do what, Terrence?” She finally let her annoyance seep through. “You did this to us- you and your doggish ways. I’m finished discussing this. It’s over. I mean it.” She rose from the table.

“Vicki, don’t walk away from me,” he said stiffly.

“Goodbye, Terrence.”

“Vicki, I’m not finished talking to you.”

She gave him a stern look. “I’m finished talking to you,” she said and walked off.

“Vicki.” His voice level increased, causing some curious stares. She kept going. “I’m not playing with you. If you walk out that door, you’ll be sorry.”

He had such a look of fury on his face that a couple sitting at a booth next to him got up and moved. The manager, at the register up front, tossed him a nervous glance, but said nothing.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” Terrence snarled, glaring at the man. The guy quickly averted his gaze. Terrence got up and stormed out of the Starbucks.

After her run-in with Terrence, Vicki changed her plans for the night. She’d intended to meet some of her friends at a club in Tampa, but didn’t feel like it anymore. Plus, she feared Terrence would follow her and ruin everything. Instead, she headed home.

She hadn’t been inside her apartment more than fifteen minutes when she heard her car alarm. Accustomed to it going off from time to time, she thought nothing of it. She grabbed her keychain which had the remote attached and aimed it. She heard the familiar chirp and soon the noisy alarm stopped.

After getting constant calls from Terrence, she shut off both her cell and home phone. As she prepared for bed, her mind replayed the events of the day she’d caught Terrence and that skank in the act.

She worked as a forms processor at Cobra Services, an insurance company. At times, their computer system went down and the processors were unable to enter claims. When that happened, they could either go to another department and help out, or go home for the rest of the day. She’d chosen to go home because the only department she’d been cross-trained in was customer service. The last thing she felt like doing was answering phones and getting cussed out repeatedly. She didn’t care about having to use her paid time off. She had plenty of time accumulated because she rarely missed a day of work.

Arriving at the apartment at about a quarter past three, she saw Terrence’s car which was unexpected. He worked the 7am to 3pm shift, and usually got home much later. Maybe he had the day off and had forgotten to mention it.

Vicki had been skeptical about letting Terrence move in with her two months prior, but the arrangement had worked out beautifully. They got alone well. Terrence was neat and orderly. He didn’t have any disgusting habits that she couldn’t put up with. He took out the garbage, washed the dishes, cleaned, did the laundry and even cooked. He also made sure that her car was maintained and washed, and he detailed it regularly. He seemed to be the ideal mate.

They’d been dating for more than three years when they’d decided to shack up. It made sense to cut back on spending money to maintain two places. They could save toward a down payment on a house.

She parked behind him and went inside. Terrence didn’t hear her enter the apartment. Since he hadn’t expected her to come home so early, the bedroom door had been left wide opened.

As soon as she walked into the room, she saw them. She made a startled sound from somewhere down inside.

“What the hell is going on?” she finally managed to get out. Surely, her eyes were deceiving her.

Terrence jumped off the woman he’d been giving immense pleasure to, judging by the moans resounding throughout the room. The woman scrambled off the bed and grabbed her clothes.

“Vicki, w-what are you doing here?” Terrence asked dumbly.

“I live here,” she snapped. “The question is what is this bitch doing here? What the fuck is going on?” she repeated.

Seeing the look of fury on Vicki’s face, the woman said nothing. She quickly pulled on her bra and panties, tossed Terrence an annoyed look and told him, “Handle ya business.” She rushed past Vicki who had a notion to grab her by her fake hair. Before she could act on her anger, the woman was out the door.

“Baby, I can explain-” Terrence began, but Vicki wasn’t hearing anything he had to say. She went over to the closet and began snatching his clothes from hangers.

“Get your shit and get out.”

“Vicki, wait. I’m sorry.”

“Get out, Terrence,” she yelled. She felt so much anger that it almost choked her. She found it hard to breathe. The disbelief, pain and heartache encumbered her.

“I’ll go. But, once you’ve calmed down, we’ll talk about this,” he told her.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Her voice came out sounding weak and pitiful.

She plopped down on the bed. She remembered that Terrence had just screwed someone in that bed and jumped back up. In a fit of rage, she grabbed the sheets and threw them at him.

“You can take those with you. If I could pick up the bed, I’d throw that at you, too.”

Looking guilty, Terrence just picked up the sheets and placed them in the laundry hamper. He picked up the clothes that littered the floor and put them in a laundry basket. He got some of his personal items off the top of the bureau. He threw those on top of the clothes and headed for the door.

“Call me,” he said.

“Negro, please.” She slammed the front door so hard that all the windows in the apartment rattled.

Chapter Two

Vicki remembered the sordid details of that day and wanted to cry. She held it in because she was finished shedding tears over a no good man. She didn’t care how much Terrence claimed to love her. Love didn’t pull down its pants and fuck tricking whores.

“As far as I’m concerned, love doesn’t live here anymore,” she said.

She reached for the remote control and clicked on the television. The apartment was too silent. She had gotten used to having Terrence with her. She still hadn’t adjusted to not having his warm body next to hers.

She thought about all the times they had snuggled together and made love for hours. Then, there were those times that they’d just laid in each other’s arms. She’d considered those times special and precious.

Now, her heart ached. How could Terrence throw their love away? If she’d been lacking in certain areas, he should have just told her. He’d left her feeling inadequate. If she had put it down right in-between the sheets, he wouldn’t have strayed. She must have done something wrong.

She could admit that she wasn’t a firecracker in the bedroom, but she wasn’t a prude either. Plus, she’d been willing to learn and try different things. She didn’t mind pleasing her man. She felt it was her womanly duty. She didn’t look at sex like it was a chore. It was something she enjoyed doing with the right man. She thought that Terrence had been that man. How wrong she’d been.

She tossed and turned trying to get comfortable. Since she’d put him out, she couldn’t really sleep through the night. She felt so lonely and empty-hearted.

She didn’t care how miserable being without him made her feel. She would not take him back. She’d be a damned fool. If he cheated and she took him back, he’d do it again because she had allowed it. If there was one thing she’d learned in life, it was that we teach people how to treat us. If he cheated and she did nothing about it, he’d cheat throughout the relationship.

She was better off without Terrence. It was a good thing that he’d shown his true colors before they’d gotten married. Had they been married and he’d stepped out of their relationship, Vicki might have caught a charge. It is one thing to fuck over your girlfriend, but fucking over your wife takes it to a whole different level. She might have gone Lorena Bobbitt on his ass and sliced off his dick.

Thinking about Terrence’s dick caused a tingle between her thighs. He had been one hell of a lover and his being well-endowed had been a plus. When she first saw his dick, she had thought to herself, There is no way he’s sticking that elephant trunk inside my stuff. But, he’d been very gentle and patient the first time. Before that night ended, she’d been clinging to the bed sheets, begging for him to give her more and go deeper. He’d been only too happy to oblige.

Now, all she had was a vibrator that she didn’t want to use. Once you’d had the real thing, you just couldn’t go back to the fake. She wanted a man and she was going to find a replacement. The best way to get over one was to meet another. With that thought on her mind, she drifted off to sleep.

Saturday morning Vicki woke up around ten o’clock. She puttered around the house in her nightgown and bare feet. She felt like eating French toast so she made some. After cleaning the breakfast dishes, she took a leisurely shower and got dressed. Maybe she’d go shopping at the mall and get some new books from Borders.

She dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt that she’d gotten from an author on MySpace advertising his new book, Diary of a 12-inch Brotha. The model posing on the tee-shirt was hot. All he wore was a pair of boxer briefs, and those briefs were definitely wearing him.

Grabbing her purse and keys, she headed out. When she stepped outside, she gasped in horror. All four of her tires were flat. Her heart thumped in her chest. Now she knew why her alarm had gone off the night before. Someone had vandalized her car.

Momentarily, she was paralyzed, not knowing whether or not to call the police. She knew that four tires couldn’t just go flat at the same time. It wasn’t a coincidence. Besides, Terrence had threatened her. Her best bet was that he’d done it.

She flipped open her cell phone and called her friend, Tresica. “Tressy, you up?” she asked.

“Girl, hell no,” Tresica answered, hoarsely. “I went out last night, remember? What the hell happened to you?” Vicki told her what had happened with Terrence and why she hadn’t made it to the club.

“Your ass needs to have that crazy Negro locked up. He ain’t gonna stop this shit until somebody gets hurt.”

“Well, wait until I tell you what I think he did. Tressy, all four of my tires are flat.”

“What the fuck,” Tresica screeched through the phone.

“Girl, I just stepped outside and I swear to God, all four of my tires are flat,” she repeated. “Should I report this to the police?”

“Are you fucking serious? Of course you report that shit.”

“But, how do I know that it was him?”

“Because he’s a deranged motherfucker,” Tresica said bitterly.

Vicki sighed heavily. “So, I should call the cops?”

“Heifer, do I have to come over there and slap some sense into your empty head? You are too nice. Personally, I’d stomp a hole in that negro’s ass. But, you handle it your way. Call the cops, girl. I’m going back to sleep.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”

With some hesitation, she dialed the St. Petersburg Police Department. The officer taking down her complaint sounded bored. Even so, he told her that someone would be out to look at the damage and make a report. She went back inside and waited.

In the meantime, she called someone who could fix her tires. She breathed a sigh of relief when she was able to reach him, and he agreed to help. Gary was a decent guy, but he wasn’t overly nice. Sometimes, he could be downright rude. That was just Gary.

She’d met him on the job and had instantly taken a liking to him. Even though he had a harsh outlook on some situations, for the most part, she agreed with him. Some people couldn’t take his straightforwardness. He gave it to you straight-up with no chaser. He wasn’t one to sugarcoat anything. If you didn’t want to hear the truth, then Gary wasn’t the one you needed to talk to.

Gary arrived shortly after the policeman had taken her statement. When she told him what she thought happened, he let her know in no uncertain terms what she needed to do about the situation.

“If he did this shit, have his ass locked up. That was a bitch move. What the hell kind of man slashes tires? That’s some simpin’ ass shit.”

“What do you mean by simpin’?”

“That’s a simp. A weak-minded individual. What the fuck? If a woman caught me cheating and told me it was over, hell, it’s over. Slashing her damn tires ain’t gonna make her take you back.” He gave her a worried look. “You need to be careful. I have a feeling that it doesn’t stop here. That brother is mad that you cut off the punany.”

Vicki couldn’t help but to laugh. Gary was a trip. “Well, I wouldn’t have done it if he’d been faithful.”

“Hell, he doesn’t care about that. He’s probably thinking about how he fucked up. He’s missing that good loving right about now. It’s making him crazy. Prime example, he’s fucking up ya tires. You must have put it down in the bedroom, girl.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious. What’s the chance that I can get a piece of that?”

“Gary, I don’t have sexual relations with men that I work with,” she said.

“Hell, I can quit.”

She laughed again. “You are silly.”

“I’ll be back after I have these repaired.” He’d taken off all the tires and placed them in his Durango. ”You sit tight and think about what I’m offering. You won’t be disappointed,” he told her through the opened window.

“Gary, let’s not go there. First of all, I’m more than ten years older than you. Second, I don’t have those types of feelings for you.”

“And third, because I know there’s a number three,” he joked.

“I think of you as a brother,” she said.

“Oh, hell no. I was hoping that you’d at least think of me as a distant cousin, twice removed, only related by marriage. Damn, a brother? I’ll never get in them panties.”

“Gary.” They both laughed, and he backed out of the driveway.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. Can you cook something?” he asked. “I’m tired of eating my cousin’s cooking.” He grimaced.

“It can’t be that bad.”

He frowned. “Oh, it is. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.”

After Gary returned and he finished putting her tires on the car, she invited him inside. Gary had shared with her that he was a vegetarian and tried to eat healthy meals. She’d fixed tilapia fried in lemon-pepper fish-fry and tossed a garden salad.

“Wow, it smells good,” he complimented. “Where’s the bathroom so I can wash my hands?”

“Down the hall, first door on the right,” she directed.

A few minutes later, Gary joined her in the dining area. She placed the fish and salad on the table.

“Well, sit down and dig in,” she said. “What would you like to drink?”

“You have iced tea?” he asked.

“No. I have Country Time Lemonade.”

“Pink?”

“No just regular.”

“I’ll take it.”

“Coming right up.” She went to the refrigerator and got the pitcher of lemonade. She poured some of the beverage into a glass and placed it before him.

“So, you said you were tired of your cousin’s cooking?” she asked, sitting down.

Gary, who had been enjoying his food, stopped chewing, and gave her a look. “Tired ain’t the word. He needs to stop cooking all together. Hell, he needs to be banned from all kitchens. He can’t cook worth a damn. The thing is he doesn’t know it. He actually thinks he’s a gourmet chef.”

“Stop lying.” She giggled as she stuck her fork into a slice of tomato and guided it to her mouth.

“I’m not. The other day, for instance, he cooked some meatloaf. Well, he said it was meatloaf, but I beg to differ. It was like no meatloaf I’d ever seen. It resembled some mystery meat. I mean, it was all lumpy and greasy. I have never seen anything like it. And he wanted to know why I wasn’t hungry when he showed it to me.”

Vicki cracked up to the point of almost choking on a mouth full of tilapia. “Gary, if you don’t stop, you’re going to have to perform the Heimlich maneuver on me.”

“But, I am not exaggerating one bit. Tell me the truth, have you ever cooked meatloaf?” She nodded. “Well, do you put corn in it? And he used some shit I ain’t never heard of. Wor- something or another.”

“Worcestershire, perhaps?”

“I don’t know what the hell it was, but it was brown and nasty-tasting. There wasn’t no kind of ketchup in the meatloaf. It was just lying in a pan of grease looking like a big blob of yuck.” He took a drink from his glass of lemonade and continued. “Plus, I don’t ever want to eat nothing he cooks anyway because he doesn’t wash his hands. And he double dips back into the pots and shit.”

“How do you know that?” she asked, still chuckling.

“I asked him if he had double-dipped, and he took too long to answer. So, I know. He had cooked dinner, supposedly, and he told me, ‘Gary, I cooked.’ He said it all happy, too.”

“I feel bad for your cousin. He’s just trying to be helpful.”

“Helpful hell. He’s trying to kill me. Anyway, he was all excited. So, I asked him what he’d cooked. When I saw that shit, I was like: ‘I’m good.’”

“What had he cooked?”

“The hell if I could identify it. It was supposed to be chicken and rice, but I think he put some Worcestershire sauce in that, too.”

“Did you at least try it?”

“He-llll no. First off, I know how he is. I know he’d tested it to see if it was done and that he’d double-dipped the spoon back into the pot without washing it.”

“He could have washed the spoon.”

“I doubt that. Needless to say, I didn’t eat it.”

“You probably hurt his feelings,” Vicki said.

“I don’t care. Hell, even if I was a poster child for Feed the Needy, I wouldn’t eat that crap.”

“Well, I’m glad I’m not your cousin. You couldn’t hurt my feelings like that. I’d stop cooking for you.”

“I damn sure wish he thought like you.”

They continued to carry on idle conversation as they ate. As she listened to Gary, she thought that he might have missed his calling. He should have been a stand-up comedian.

“I really appreciate you having my tires fixed,” she told him, pouring him some more lemonade.

“Enough to give me some?” he asked, with a hopeful look on his face.

“Gary, why does it always have to go back to sex with you?”

“Hell, why not?”

“Sex isn’t everything.”

“I know it’s not.”

“And it’s the reason that I’m single again,” she added. They both fell silent.

“Vicki, he was a loser from the jump,” he said, breaking the awkwardness. “Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“I can’t help but to think that it’s my fault.”

“Well, why would you think that? Did you give him some pussy?”

“Gary,” she exclaimed.

“Well, did you?”

“Yes,” she answered, feeling a blush creep into her cheeks.

“Did you give it to him when he wanted, the way he wanted it?”

“Yes,” she said, not understanding for the life of her why she was answering such bold questions.

“Well, how was his cheating your fault?” He pushed his empty plate away. “It amazes me when women think that way. Women need to wake up. A man will only do to you what you allow him to do. Believe that.”

Gary hadn’t spoken anything but the truth, so she couldn’t get mad.

“What are your plans for the rest of today?” she asked, changing the subject.

“I’ll be working on my website and recording an audio book. I plan to release it soon.”

“That’s great. Well, I’m gonna head to the mall as originally planned. I really do appreciate your help.”

“Anytime. You know, you might find another man at the mall, so keep your eyes open.”

“I’m going to a bookstore. I doubt if many men will be browsing through the romance section,” she said.

“You’d be surprised. That‘s one of the main places I meet women. I usually run up on them at a bookstore or in a department store.”

“I guess that means you have a lot of books,” she said in amusement.

“Yep. But I also happen to read.”

“You?”

“Yes. I’m not all that into fiction, but I read a lot of non-fiction, self-help, and inspirational books,” he said.

“Really?” Again, she was surprised. There was more to Gary than a pretty face. If she wasn’t so through with men, she might have considered him as a love interest.

“A good book to read is the autobiography of Malcolm X,” he told her.

“I might check it out. I saw the movie where Denzel played Malcolm.”

“The book is more in depth. It’s deep.” He looked at his phone. “I gotta run. I have to go fix my grandma something for dinner.” She gave him a puzzled look. “My grandma can’t get around. So, I go over and fix her meals for her,” he explained. “That’s why I’m working so hard on this audio book. If it sells the way I hope it does, I’ll be able to quit my job and take care of my grandma full-time.”

Vicki’s heart melted. A man who took care of his elderly grandmother had to have a heart of gold. Gary wasn’t as cold, uncaring and impersonal as he pretended to be after all. Maybe she’d take him up on his offer the next time he propositioned her.

Chapter Three

The anger surged through Terrence’s veins. Vicki had to take him back. Yeah, he’d fucked up. All men fucked up from time to time. He’d told her he was sorry. An apology should be enough. Why was she being so stubborn?

He didn’t understand why women put so much value on faithfulness. All men cheated. If they said they didn’t, they were lying through their assholes or they were hen pecked, pussy-whipped wimps.

He wondered how Vicki had reacted when she saw her tires. He knew he should have controlled himself, but when she walked off like that at Starbucks, it had riled him up. Then, she wouldn’t answer his calls. He had never resulted to violence when he couldn’t get his way. There was a first time for everything.

He didn’t know what had come over him. Something dark lurked inside, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep it at bay. He had a burning desire to hurt somebody if Vicki didn’t take him back.

He thought about what he’d done to the tires and experienced a small amount of remorse. Vicki didn’t deserve that. She was a wonderful person- great, actually. She’d treated him like a king and had been the only woman to make him feel special. He had no idea why he’d cheated on her.

He sighed aloud. It was just complicated. He couldn’t explain it. Tenesha had been coming on to him for months. He had a dime at home and couldn’t understand his attraction to Tenesha. She wasn’t even his type. She wasn’t much to look at. She was one of those ghettofied project chicks. You know the kind. They wear two-toned hairdos, smack gum, roll their eyes and talk too loud. They sport fake, acrylic nails with ridiculous color schemes. The kind with low self-esteem, who think having sex is the way to a man’s heart. Tenesha was the ride-or-die, shit-talking type.

She got hired through work force in a program called Welfare to Work. She’d just gotten off Section 8 housing, and could barely pay her rent. She complained about it all the time. She told her problems to anyone who would listen. Terrence happened to be the person she griped to the most.

He guessed it must have been her body. She did have an hour-glass figure and one of those juicy asses – like the BET video dancers. She always wore something tight and provocative to work. She seemed to exaggerate her twist every time she passed by him.

She’d make it a daily habit to call him over to her desk and hold a conversation. Her breasts would almost be bursting out of the blouse she wore. He couldn’t stop himself from staring at those puppies and salivating. Tenesha knew exactly what she was doing.

She was supposed to be the receptionist. But, she hardly answered the phone because she was too busy running her mouth. Her other way to avoid working was to surf the Internet or instant message her unemployed friends all day.

It wasn’t long before he’d gotten the idea in his head that he wanted to tap that ass. Hell, she practically laid it in his lap. She’d probably let him take her off in one of the empty patient’s rooms and knock it out real quick. She seemed to be that kind of freak.

The day he’d finally taken Tenesha up on her offer hadn’t been planned. They’d gotten off at three in the evening. She’d needed a ride because her car had broken down. He’d agreed to give her a lift since she lived on the south side.

In the car, she’d boldly told him what she could do to him. She said how good she could make him feel. She’d bragged that Superhead wasn’t the only one that could get a book deal for sucking dick.

He’d been curious and his curiosity had gotten the best of him. He’d taken her to his place because she’d said one of her kids would be home from school. He didn’t want some snotty nose brat interrupting his nut. He knew how kids could cock-block. They’d cry and whine, beg for a glass of Kool-Aid or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Kids aggravated his nerves. His place would be unoccupied.

The last thing he’d expected was for Vicki to get home early and catch them in the act. He couldn’t deny or explain it away because he’d been butt-naked, wearing only his socks. It had been like catching a kid with his grubby hands in the cookie jar. Damn.

He thought Vicki would clown, but didn’t count on her kicking him out. Well, actually he had expected to be in the dog house for a while, but not totally kicked to the curb.

Shit, she didn’t want anything to do with him. Period. He’d been edited out of her life, like insignificant words to a novel. It’s like she’d hit Ctrl, Alt, Delete.

He couldn’t accept it.

Something urged him to drive by Vicki’s place that Saturday morning. He’d been living with his grandma and she was getting on his nerves. She had a rule: no sleeping past ten o’clock. He’d had to get out. If he stayed, she would find some work for him to do. She’d want him to mow the yard, clip the hedges, pick the grapefruits off the tree—shit he didn’t feel like doing.

His missed his old routine. On his days off, he liked to sleep as late as he wanted. More often than not, Vicki would be curled up next to him. When he did wake up, she’d give him some good loving. Then, she’d fix him breakfast.

His grandma said she wasn’t cooking or cleaning up behind no grown ass man.

“I didn’t do it for ya mama, and I’m not gonna start with you,” she’d told him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he’d mumbled.

“Now, I ain’t gonna turn you to the streets, but I’m gonna suggest you get ya own place real soon, Son. I need peace in my old age.”

Grandma was not the coddling type. She wasn’t a sitting in the rocking chair, knitting a quilt, baking cookies type either. She didn’t play. Trust him; he wanted to be the hell out of there ASAP. That’s why Vicki had to quit tripping. He had given up his apartment to move in with her three months ago. He couldn’t afford to get his own place for at least another couple of paychecks. His grandma would have driven him to suicide by then. And if he had to put up with seeing her stockings hanging over the shower stall for another day, he didn’t think he could take it.

When he turned the corner and saw an unfamiliar vehicle parked behind Vicki’s car, he almost screeched to a halt. He took notice of the person driving it - a tall, medium built, handsome guy. He was light-skinned with that good grade of hair.

He couldn’t stand those pretty ass Negroes. What the fuck was the dude doing at his lady’s house? He saw the guy jack up the car and take off the tires. He relaxed a bit, but not much. He heard him say something that caused Vicki to blush and laugh. Who was the motherfucker flirting with his woman?

He saw red.

Chapter One

What day is it? Audrey Peterson couldn’t recall. It had to be the weekend. Lord, please let today be Saturday, her mind screamed. Her body felt like it needed an entire weekend to recuperate. Had she been stampeded by a herd of cattle?

What time is it? She didn’t have an answer for that question either. She had her eyes closed, lingering somewhere in between that realm of dreaming and being awake. She kept trying to figure out what prevented her from drifting back to sleep. She was almost certain that she wasn’t ready to begin the day just yet.

“What is that sound?” her unconscious mind asked her muddled brain. “I’ve heard it before, but I can’t quite make out what it is.” She managed to crack open one eyelid and looked to her left.

What she saw cleared any lingering cobwebs from her brain and jarred her fully awake. A strange man lay sprawled across the bed next to her, snoring. She sat upright, brushing hair out of her eyes in order to see him more clearly.

No, I didn’t, she thought. But, she had. It all rushed back to her like a motion picture.

She was sitting at home bored out of her mind. Russell had picked up the kids, leaving her alone in the house. She thought about passing the time reading, but didn’t have any new books. She regretted letting her membership with Black Expressions expire. Her shelf held a few Dean Koontz and Stephen King novels, but she wasn’t in the mood for reading horror. She didn’t want to read Harlequin Romance either. Reading sappy love stories left her feeling like she needed a man.

It didn’t take long for her to rule out the idea of reading. The quietness had been too much. It made her think about how alone she truly was. In spite of having two sons, most of the time, loneliness consumed her. She didn’t have a life outside of her children and boring job.

She’d been only too glad to hear from her friends, Jeanya and Faith who called while on their way to the club. Hearing their enthusiasm made her want to get out too. It didn’t take too much coaxing from them to convince her to tag along. Staying at home, staring at four walls had been the only other alternative.

She told them to pick her up and spent the next hour trying to find an outfit to wear. She didn’t own any clothing that could be considered club attire. She didn’t dress in revealing or tight clothes, which seemed to be the norm for everyone else. Even though she was going to a club, she wanted to appear respectable.

It tripped her out every time one of her friends complained about a man feeling her up in the club. In Audrey’s opinion, you got what you asked for. If you dressed like trash, you got treated like trash. What man would respect you if you let half your butt hang out or allowed your breasts to wiggle in every direction? It really didn’t take much to get most men excited. Seeing flesh just egged them on.

Almost every outfit from her closet ended up in a pile on the bed. Nothing seemed appropriate. Either it was too dressy, too tight, or too short. She made herself a mental note to clean out her closet and donate some stuff to Goodwill. Why hang on to size threes when she’d never squeeze her hips into those outfits again?

She finally decided to wear a Phat Farm, denim jumpsuit. She pulled it on and surveyed herself in the full-length mirror. It looked trendy and didn’t fit too snugly. She could stand to lose a few inches off her stomach though, then her body would be banging. After dabbing some Glow perfume on her wrists and behind each earlobe, she was ready.

Hearing a car horn, she grabbed her Coach purse that rested on the bed. It had been one of the few things she’d been able to afford before her credit had gotten ruined. She also owned a Dooney and Bourke as well as a Louis Vuitton. The total of the three purses combined could pay a month’s mortgage. She almost felt guilty for hanging onto the material things when she had to struggle so hard to make ends meet. But, those few things made her determined to rise above any problems and conquer them.

Audrey locked the front door and walked the few feet to Jeanya’s car. Of course Jeanya and Faith had on what Audrey considered “hoochiefied” outfits. It almost made her change her mind about hanging out with them. They always got too much male attention no matter where they went.

“Girl, look at you in your tight bodysuit,” Jeanya exclaimed.

“Do I look alright?” she asked, self-consciously.

“You know you look good and you’re so thin. You can wear stuff like that,” Faith said.

“Yeah, she sure can. I’d have to put on a girdle to hold in all my flab,” Jeanya remarked and sucked air through her teeth. They all laughed.

Audrey sat up front because Faith was in the backseat. She carried on an animated phone conversation as Jeanya drove toward the club.

“Hey Faith, tell whoever that is to meet you at the club,” Jeanya threw over her shoulder.

“Girl, I don’t want him to find out where I’m going. He’s a bug-a-boo,” she said, holding her hand over the phone so the guy couldn’t hear. “But, he’s good in bed. So, I might want to hook up with him later.”

“TMI, Faith. Too much information.”

Audrey just shook her head and said nothing. She didn’t understand how Faith could sleep with random guys, but she wasn’t one to judge. Obviously, her friend knew what she was doing.

Jeanya parked across the street from the club. Even though it was a small facility, it generated a moderate sized crowd. The majority of the people just hung outside, sitting on the hoods of their cars, smoking or shooting the breeze. The men tried to hit on the ladies before they had a chance to disappear inside the building.

Jeanya exchanged numbers with one guy and another latched on to Faith and followed her inside. Audrey was glad that no one tried to come on to her.

Once in the club, Audrey bought a Hennessy and Coke. She took one sip and went, “Whew!” The bartender had made the drink strong, which was rare at most clubs. Usually the drinks were over-priced and watered down. She smiled and gave him a tip to ensure that he’d keep dishing out the favors the rest of the night.

While walking from the bar she made eye contact with a tall, handsome, young man who looked to be in his late twenties. He had smooth caramel colored skin and hazel eyes. He sported brother locks, but it didn’t take away from his good looks and sex appeal. He could have just stepped off the set of a fashion show. She wondered what he was doing at such a hole-in-the wall type of establishment.

She and her friends went because it was about the only decent (depending on your definition of the word) urban club they had in St. Petersburg. And, if you wanted to call the Nightriders Van Club a club. Most of the other clubs had shut down because the young black men in the area didn’t know how to act. They always ended up fighting, stabbing or shooting each other. Ironically, two of the places that used to be clubs had been converted into churches.

After flirting with his eyes for a while, they guy finally approached her and offered to refresh her drink. Against her better judgment, she accepted. They exchanged names and ended up on the dance floor together. The rest of the night, she couldn’t shake him, not that she wanted too. He was cute. He had proven that he could dance when R Kelly’s song Step in the Name of Love played. He didn’t mind spending money. Not only had he bought drinks for her, he’d hooked Jeanya and Faith up as well.

Her friends had been impressed, not that their opinions in men counted for much. They gave her the thumbs up and Faith whispered in her ear, “I hope you let him get you over that dry spell you’ve been having.” Audrey couldn’t help but to laugh at that. If she’d kept her mouth shut then her friends wouldn’t know all about her business.

After two more drinks, and mind you she had a two-drink limit, she’d been through. She tried to dance it off but had to face the fact that she was wasted. She figured as much when they’d played, Pull It All the Way Down, and she tried to pull it down but couldn’t pick it back up. Her new friend helped her. Because she could no longer focus or stand up straight, they decided to leave. He offered to drive her home.

If Jeanya or Faith had tried to talk her out of going home with a man she’d just met, she couldn’t recall. Those heifers were supposed to have her back. They knew that she and brown liquor didn’t mix too well.

She vaguely remembered her and the guy leaving the club. They stopped at Gyros, a fast food joint, to get something to eat. She could remember French fries and grease, but the rest of the night remained a blur.

Audrey groaned aloud. How could she just let a stranger pick her up? Not to mention the fact that she’d brought him into her home. She was acting like she was hard up for sex or something. Actually she was hard up, but that didn’t excuse her behavior.

It penetrated her brain that the snoring had stopped. She turned to stare at the young man and saw that he was no longer asleep. His light colored eyes met hers and his lips turned up in the corners. He had a beautiful smile, with nice even white teeth. At least she hadn’t ended up with someone who looked like a wooly mammoth. She would have killed Jeanya and Faith.

“Good morning,” he greeted.

“Um- yeah. Look, I can’t remember your name right now, but you have to go,” she said quickly. After noticing his smoldering stare, she pulled the sheet up to her neck. She didn’t care if he considered her to be a prude. In the broad daylight, she’d sobered up and come to her senses.

“It’s Carlos,’” he reminded her, making no move to get out of her bed. “Why are you kicking me out? Don’t I at least get some breakfast?” He leaned on his elbow and stared at her with big, soulful eyes.

Audrey almost laughed in his face. She couldn’t even remember what had happened. Had he been good enough to deserve breakfast?

“Look, Carlos. I’m sure you’re a nice young man and I’m not trying to be rude. One-night stands are not my thing. In order to save us both from further embarrassment, I think it’s best for you to go. If you want, you can take a shower. After that, you have to leave,” she insisted.

“You sure you don’t want to cook me breakfast?” he asked, smoothly. When he stood up she saw that he had the fine chiseled body of a black Adonis. She could understand how she’d lost her head- the man was perfection. He reminded her of a male stripper she’d once seen at a pleasure party. But this man would give the stripper a run for his money. “Or do you want to be breakfast?” he asked seductively, throwing her a mischievous grin. Audrey shook her head, blushed and sank further under the covers. He winked and left the room.

While Carlos showered, Audrey looked around. When she saw the two torn Magnum packages, she breathed a sigh of relief. At least he’d been responsible enough to use protection. A lot of men would have jumped at the chance to take full advantage of a drunken female. That constituted not using a condom if she’d been too inebriated to ask them to put one on.

She got up, grabbed her terry cloth robe from the closet and slid into it. She then pulled the sheets off the bed and got some clean ones. She was just about finished re-making the bed when Carlos stepped back into the room.

“So, do you have a man? Is that why you’re running me off?” he asked bluntly.

“No. I’m single. If I wasn’t, you wouldn’t be here,” she told him.

“Even though you were smashed most of the night, I enjoyed your company,” he said. Once he finished drying off he let the towel drop to the floor. Audrey averted her eyes. “Are you going to call me?” he asked as he pulled on his clothes. He was gorgeous but truthfully, she didn’t think he was her type. Besides the big gap in their ages, she’d always be suspicious of him. If he’d picked her up in the club, what other woman would he pick up?

“Sure,” she lied. “You gave me your number, right?”

“Yes, I added it in your list of contacts on your cell phone. It’s under Los.”

“Why doesn’t a handsome man such as you have anyone?” she questioned. “You’re not married are you?” If he was it wasn’t her fault that he’d committed adultery. He should have told her he had a wife.

“Nah,” he shook his head. “I just broke up with my baby mama. She kicked me out so I’m living with my aunt right now.”

Baby mama drama waiting to unfold, Audrey thought.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Carlos,” she said, escorting him to the door. The last thing she needed was to be caught up in some love triangle.

He turned and stared in her eyes. “I hope this won’t be the last time I see you.”

“That’s up to you.” As his lips devoured hers passionately, suddenly she didn’t care about anything else but having him. His age, the fact that he’d picked her up from a club, the possible drama- it all flew out the window when his tongue wrestled with hers. She almost led him back to the bedroom. If she hadn’t been concerned about Russell bringing the boys home in the next few minutes, she would have been on her back again. Carlos just might have gotten breakfast after all.

“Girl, why didn’t y’all stop me from going home with a stranger?” Audrey asked Faith and Jeanya. They all sat at her dining room table holding fresh drinks. It was Friday, which meant it was time to unwind after a long stressful week. Once they finished drinking, they would probably hit a club. If they got too tipsy to drive across the bridge to Tampa, the Nightriders Van Club had “Grown Folk Friday.” They had a free fish fry so usually there’d be a pretty good turn out. People always showed up for free food.

“You didn’t look like you wanted to be rescued to me,” Faith said.

“Sure didn’t. Besides, you were too heavy for us to pick up off the floor. We’re glad he was there to do it.” They cracked up.

“Where’s Vanessa? Isn’t she coming over?” Audrey asked.

“Yeah, she had to go to one of those hot houses and get some weed. She can’t drink without smoking. You know that.”

“Well, I’m not smoking tonight. If I smoke anything, then y’all know I’ll be fast asleep. Going to the club will be out of the question,” Audrey told them.

“Hey Audrey, you haven’t told us how it went yet,” Faith interrupted.

Audrey played it off. She knew that Faith was trying to get in her business so she stalled her. “How what went?”

“You know, your encounter,” Faith said. “Don’t try to act all innocent. You hadn’t had any for six months. I bet he rocked your world.”

“Or at least cleared some cobwebs out,” Jeanya said.

Audrey threw up her hands. There would be no stopping the questions. Her friends would never let it go. She opted to just tell them the truth.

“Y’all I was so drunk I can’t even remember,” she said. “And that’s a shame because if it was mind-blowing, I want to know.”

“You can’t remember anything at all?” Jeanya asked.

Audrey shook her head. “That’s sad, huh?”

“He was sexy. Maybe you should hook up with him again. Did you at least get his number? Why don’t you invite him over here to drink with us?” she added. Audrey knew better. If she did, Faith would try to get her hooks in him. Faith would sleep with any Tom, Dick or Harry who showed her some interest. It didn’t bother her a bit if one of her friends had been with him first. To make matters worse, she’d try to compare notes later on. Audrey wasn’t about to let Carlos become community property, passed around from friend to friend.

She hesitated before answering. “Yeah, I got his number. I just don’t want to call him. I mean, he’s younger than me and I don’t see any future in it. So, why pursue it?”

“Simple. Use him for sex,” Faith explained. “I mean, the men do it to us, right?”

“They sure do,” Jeanya agreed. “All the time.”

She stared at her friends incredulously. “That doesn’t make it right,” Audrey pointed out. She couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of their mouths. But, it didn’t surprise her at all. Nowadays females had switched roles with the males. They were more aggressive than ever and cared even less about a committed relationship than most men.

“Forgot about what’s right and wrong. Just have some fun. He’ll be happy. You’ll be happy. No strings attached. No drama.” Faith’s cell phone rang. “Hello?” She placed the phone to her ear and picked up her drink. “I’m going outside so I can get better reception. This is one booty call that I don’t want to miss,” she told them. She could be heard giggling into the phone before the front door closed behind her.

Faith was something else. She hadn’t slowed down since her broken engagement two months prior. She’d been involved with a man who’d left her for someone he met on the Internet. He’d seemed so perfect for her. He’d been hard-working. He didn’t hang out in the clubs. He wasn’t much of a drinker and he didn’t do drugs. He’d acted as though she was the best thing since sliced cheese. But, behind her back, he’d been communicating with women in chat rooms. He’d met one in person and his engagement went downhill from that point on. He ended up flying the woman and her child in from Georgia. They moved in with him and Faith had been forgotten. That goes to show, you just can’t trust anyone.

“I’m going to refresh my drink. You want another one?” Jeanya asked and stood up to get some more ice. Audrey shook her head no. She wasn’t even halfway finished with her first drink. It surprised her that Jeanya was on her second one already. That woman could drink like a camel.

“What are you so stressed about now? You’re downing those drinks kind of fast,” she commented, watching Jeanya get the ice and close the freezer door. “I thought things were looking up. You just moved into your own place. The kids have space and you don’t have to bicker with your mom and brother anymore. What’s up?”

“Girl, it’s Marcus,” she said in a frustrated tone as she sat down again. “He keeps telling me that he’s going to help me with the rent and other bills, but he never does. Every time I ask about it, his excuse is that something came up.”

Audrey’s brow lifted. “Does he work?”

“No girl. You know he’s on the grind. But, it’s not like he doesn’t have the money. He just gives it to his baby mama. Anytime she calls asking for something, he breaks his back to give it to her.”

“Well, he has to take care of his child.” She couldn’t fault the man in that area. She knew of too many brothers who didn’t provide for their own.

“She takes advantage of it though. I mean- he just gave her close to a thousand dollars. She claimed she needed it for child care expenses.”

“Whoa, that’s a lot of money.” Audrey could smell a lie in Marcus’s story. If Jeanya wanted to convince herself that he was telling the truth, so be it.

“I know. He said that if he hadn’t given her that, he would have paid half the rent.” She sighed deeply, poured a majority of Hennessy in her cup and a little chaser. Audrey shook her head. She just couldn’t do it. Her drinks had to taste more like the chaser than the liquor.

“If he’s on the grind, he should make more real soon,” Audrey consoled. “Just keep asking him. If he lives there, he should pay half of the expenses. Rent isn’t free.”

“I know. I just don’t want to nag him. Having someone live with me is a new experience. I’m not sure if it’s something I’d recommend.”

Audrey stirred the ice that was left in her drink and took another sip through the straw. “I know I can’t fathom living with a man. I need my privacy because I have my moods.” She finished her drink off with a slurping sound. “Well, at least you get to get some every night.”

“Whatever.” Jeanya gave her a look, tossed her a “child please,” and curled her lip.

“Well, what is he good for?” Audrey exclaimed. “He ain’t paying bills, and he ain’t breaking you off every night. He needs to go.”

“I can’t let him go. I just care about him so much,” Jeanya said in a pitying voice. She reminded Audrey of those women on the Dr. Phil Show who stayed even after their men physically or mentally abused them. They always made excuses for the no good men. What made women so weak? Audrey let the subject drop and got up to fix a second drink.

Vanessa finally arrived. Faith finished her cell phone conversation and came back inside to join them. At that time the party got crunk. It wasn’t long before Vanessa rolled a blunt, lit it and passed it around. Even though Audrey had said she wasn’t smoking, she took a hit anyway. After several more puffs, she decided to call Carlos after all. She didn’t let Faith know of her plans, though.

She convinced her friends that she was too drunk to go out. After they left, she invited Carlos over. She felt a certain anxiety about hooking up with him again. A one-night stand was supposed to be for one night only. She was turning it into something more by inviting him back.

Pushing her fears aside, she took a shower and prepared herself for the late night rendezvous. When Carlos arrived, she caught the look of appreciation in his eyes when he saw her. She had changed into a red, lace teddy with a matching robe. His eyes made her glad she’d taken extra care to dress in something special.

“You look really sexy,” he said in a husky voice.

She stared into his honey colored eyes. He was one of those gorgeous men who could make your bones turned into jelly from just one glance. She’d really lucked up when she’d met him.

That night, she remembered everything. Carlos packed more than she cared to work with. No wonder he carried Magnums, which were rumored to be for the larger sized man. After thirty minutes of trying to relax, she finally gave up and apologized for wasting his time.

“It’s the brown liquor. I shouldn’t have drunk so much. It affects my sex drive,” she explained.

“Can’t you do something?” he asked in disappointment. “Are you going to just leave me hanging?”

Audrey knew that something meant perform oral sex. She really didn’t care to do something so personal with someone she barely knew. But, she felt bad because she’d gotten him all worked up and hadn’t been able to accommodate him. She ended up giving in and doing what he wanted just to please him.

“I’ll call you,” he said before he left that night. Audrey knew what that meant. She’d probably never hear from him again. If he did call, it would be because his main woman wasn’t available.

“Another one bites the dust,” she said as she lay in bed staring at the ceiling. “Why do I keep doing this to myself?” She felt even more alone and couldn’t explain the sadness that suddenly washed over her.

Chapter Two

Audrey hadn’t seen the inside of a church for months. She sat in her car contemplating whether or not she would enter the building. According to the clock on her dashboard, it neared 11:30, the start of morning worshipping services. She took a deep breath then exhaled.

“Lord, if I can’t go through with this please don’t send me to hell,” she prayed silently.

“Miss?” The tap on the window startled her. She still had the engine running, trying to enjoy as much of the benefits of air conditioning she could. It wouldn’t be long before she got hit with Florida’s humidity.

“Yes?” she asked tentatively, pushing the down button for the power window.

“Are you coming inside?” A man dressed in a casual suit and tie asked. He wore a big friendly smile on his face.

“Er- well-”

“Come on and join us today,” he invited. He seemed so pleasant and mannerly that she immediately felt comfortable. She couldn’t help returning his smile.

“Ok. I’ll come inside,” she said, letting the window back up. She shut off the engine and took the key out of the ignition.

She grabbed her purse and Bible from the passenger seat, got out the car, and followed the gentleman. He held the door for her as she entered the church.

It was a small house of worship, not at all what she’d been accustomed to when she regularly attended church so long ago. Back then, she belonged to the Church of Christ. At the 20th Street Church of Christ, she’d immediately felt swallowed up when she stepped inside the building. At church she should have felt at home, instead she’d felt so insignificant. That’s one of the reasons she didn’t attend anymore. She thought that most churches had become too political. They’d also become places for people to showcase what they had instead of hearing about Jesus Christ and salvation.

Audrey took a seat toward the back and surveyed the people. There weren’t many in attendance, mostly women and children, a few men.

Why did I have to pick a third Sunday of all the days, to come? she grumbled to herself. She remembered that on a third Sunday black folk usually stayed at home. It would be children’s choir day also. From the looks of it, there weren’t too many children in the church who belonged to the choir.

Well, maybe the pastor will preach a moving sermon. At least it won’t be a complete waste of my time.

It ought to be a shame that a film of dust actually covered the front of her Bible. She wiped it off, opened it and flipped through the pages. The only verse that stood out in her mind was the 23rd Psalm, known as the Lord’s Prayer. She read that as the rest of the attendees filed into the church.

The pastor took a seat up front. Audrey was looking down so she didn’t witness his dumbfounded expression when he saw her.

The choir began singing an old hymn that she didn’t know the words to. She hummed along. She noticed that the row of women in front of her all wore skirts with hems that nearly touched the floor. She wondered if their outfits had been tailor made. She couldn’t remember seeing such long dresses in any of the department stores she shopped at.

She felt a little uncomfortable in her own two-pieced skirt set. It wasn’t a mini-skirt, but it wasn’t a burlap sack either. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that the woman next to her wore a pants suit. She almost thought she’d visited a sanctified church and had considered getting up to leave.

“Let everyone in the church please stand for the reading of God’s Word.” The pastor’s deep voice rang out over the church. Audrey placed her Bible on the seat and stood. When her eyes encountered the pastor it momentarily threw her.

He’s a pastor?

He was light complexioned, incredibly handsome, and couldn’t be any older than she. She vaguely remembered him from somewhere. She searched her mind until she came up with an image of him streaking through the streets of St. Petersburg on his motorcycle. His name was Raymond Something Or Other. If memory served her correctly, he’d been really popular with the ladies, too.

Great! Another womanizing, wannabe preacher! Well, I won’t listen to one word that Pastor Raymond- She gazed at the business card one of the ushers had handed her on the way in. -Dickerson utters.

She’d encountered a few of those “so-called” preachers who happened to frequent the clubs more often than she did. She thought of them as hypocrites. How could you be a man of God and save souls, when you hung out and frolicked just as often as the sinners? Who wanted you to witness to them with a whiff of Hennessy on your breath?

She couldn’t recall seeing Pastor Dickerson out clubbing during recent years. She had spotted him on a few occasions, though. Once she ran into him at Kmart. Another time she saw him with his family at Denny’s Restaurant. She’d encountered him and she assumed his sons at Marshall’s Department Store. Recently, she’d seen him again at the bank.

She wondered why her memory had been jolted all of a sudden with memories of the pastor. He was a man and probably wasn’t any different from the rest. She had to get her mind off him. She was in church to repent because of men.

She forced her thoughts onto something else. She chuckled as she remembered going to the Van Club Saturday night. Only at the Van Club would you see men sporting Jeri curls and wearing cowboy hats. The dance floor was no bigger than a paper napkin, but it was a place to go. You could socialize and intermingle with your people.

She didn’t necessarily like the Van Club, but she didn’t dislike it either. As long as you tipped, the bartender made the drinks pretty strong. She always left that place feeling a little light headed.

She’d run into Carlos again and had let him follow her home. Of course, they ended up in the bedroom. In the middle of the process his cell phone kept ringing. He hadn’t answered, but he stopped what he was doing to check the number. It wasn’t long before he finished, got up and pulled on his clothes. He hadn’t even bothered to take a shower. His leaving had proven just how much he cared about her feelings. Even though she’d brought it on herself, she felt so used.

She shook her head to clear it of Carlos. She couldn’t call it a one-night stand because she’d already been with him three times. Still, she’d been laden with guilt because he wasn’t her man. That’s why she felt such a strong desire to attend church. Maybe, subconsciously, she thought attending would purge her of her sins. She wasn’t sure if she’d chosen the right church for that, though.

Pastor Dickerson stood up after the junior pastor finished speaking, and it immediately drew her attention. He really was quite handsome. As his eyes met hers, he appeared to become suddenly nervous. He took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow.

Audrey couldn’t look away. Something about him intrigued her. When he began his sermon, surprisingly the words held her interest. She forgot all about his appearance and concentrated on the words. He spoke about how Christians that had been saved knew the Word and knew about living righteous lives. When they backslid it became more difficult for them to find their way back to Christ. He referred to a verse in the Bible that compared backsliding Christians to a dog that turns back to its own vomit.

After reading the Bible verse and reflecting on it, Audrey truly felt the importance. She could picture a dog vomiting and licking it up; it sickened her to her stomach. Yet, she was a dog turning back to her own vomit.

Audrey knew the things she did was wrong. She’d given her life over to the Lord at age fifteen. At that time, she’d been baptized. She knew that when she’d gone under water, she should have felt something. Yet, she hadn’t experienced anything phenomenal. Maybe she should have waited until she’d been old enough to understand the significance of baptism. To that day, she still felt like something had been missing.

Baptism was a topic worth discussing with someone more knowledgeable of the Bible. She had other questions as well, about faith and tithing. She didn’t even know how to pray, at least not effectively. It was sad but true.

She wondered frequently if God even answered her prayers. Sometimes, she felt as though something blocked her from God. She didn’t know how she could get past the wall. Maybe getting involved with a church would be a good start.

She’d been raised up in the church the majority of her life. She knew that the lifestyle she led wasn’t pleasing in the sight of God. She just didn’t know how to find her way back from her sinful ways.

She thought about all the sins she’d committed recently. She’d hooked up with Carlos: fornication. Just sleeping with the men she’d been with was sinful because she wasn’t married. She drank and held wild parties. She smoked marijuana on occasion. Even though “Thou shalt not smoke weed,” wasn’t one of the Ten Commandments, she knew that God didn’t approve of it. Her thoughts weren’t always pure. Heck, she thought evil thoughts as she sat in church. At that moment, she wondered why the woman in front of her had to wear such an ugly hat. Hats should be banned from church or only allowed during funerals. The one the woman sported proudly was wide. It was black with sparkling sequins and red feathers. What a combination. It looked like a Thanksgiving turkey had taken perch on top of her head.

Her attention turned back to the pastor as he asked if anyone wanted to join the church that day. He looked her way, but she bowed her head and avoided his gaze. He then offered to pray for anyone who felt in need of prayer. A few people went forward, but Audrey remained in her seat.

All in all it had been an excellent sermon and she’d gotten something from it. Pastor Raymond Dickerson wasn’t a hypocrite after all. She wondered why he chose to head a congregation. Why had he become a pastor? Had something tragic happened in his life to make him turn to religion? Had he been called to minister the gospel?

Audrey didn’t quite understand what it meant to be called by God. She remembered reading in the Bible how Moses had been chosen by God to lead the Israelites out of Egypt. God had spoken to him from a burning bush. Had it been like that for Pastor Dickerson?

As she sat lost in her thoughts almost everyone had filed out of the church. The pastor and a few other parishioners stood nearby conversing. With a start, Audrey realized that the church was nearly empty. She grabbed her Bible, collected her purse and stood up to leave. Pastor Dickerson caught her eye as she stepped into the aisle.

“Thank you for coming,” he told her, extending his hand. She noticed the absence of a wedding band.

“Hopefully, you’ll come again,” another voice stated. It was the gentleman from earlier. Audrey gave them both a polite smile, but said nothing. She took the hand that the pastor held out and shook it.

“Have a blessed evening,” he said. She stared into his eyes and her heart did a crazy pitter-patter. She released his hand quickly.

“You too,” she answered softly and left the church.

As she headed toward her car, she couldn’t imagine for the life of her what had just happened. She’d had a reaction to a man of God. It hadn’t been a sexual reaction, but it had been something to ponder. It filled her head with all kinds of questions and stirred something within her.

* * * * *

Pastor Dickerson couldn’t stop thinking about the woman who came to visit his church. Of course, she’d been pretty, but over the years he’d learned that true beauty began on the inside. It had been something else about her that fascinated him other than her looks.

She made him nervous when he saw her from his position at the pulpit. He’d been accustomed to glancing out over his congregation and seeing the regulars. Of course, from time to time they got visitors, but rarely on a third Sunday. Seeing a new face had been a welcoming sight.

His reaction to seeing her hadn’t been motivated by the Spirit, but the flesh. It took him back to a time when he’d been worldly. Those were his before-Christ days. It jarred him, throwing him off a bit. He felt himself sweating and had to say a quick prayer to God asking for forgiveness. He momentarily slipped back to his old way of thinking and had to reflect on Psalm 51 for strength.

“God, be merciful to me because you are loving. Because you are always ready to be merciful, wipe out all my wrongs. Wash away all my guilt and make me clean again.”

Now, as he sat at his desk preparing his lesson plan for the evening services, he let his mind drift. He knew her name: Audrey Peterson. Actually, he didn’t know her personally, but knew her brother, Charles Peterson. Some years back, he and Charles attended the same school to become barbers. Charles lived off Twenty Second Street, one of the streets he’d frequently speed down while riding his motorcycle. On occasion, he stopped by Charles’ house. During a few of those times, he saw Audrey.

Back then, he’d been known as a true player. He could have tried, and had no doubt that he’d have succeeded, in getting with her. But, he hadn’t. Partly out of the respect he had for Charles and also because even then, he sensed something uniquely different about her.

Audrey Peterson. He sat back in his chair and wondered, “What brought her to my church?” He knew that in time, God would give him the answer.

For now, he had to review his notes from earlier. Usually, for the six o’clock worship he’d use the same sermon he presented at the morning services. A handful of his congregation attended both morning and evening services, but most of the time, it was people who couldn’t make it to the church by 11:30 AM, for whatever reasons.

He turned to II Peter 2:20-23, “For if after they have escaped the pollutions of the world through the knowledge of the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, they are again entangled therein, and overcome, the latter end is worse with them than the beginning. For it had been better for them not to have known the way of righteousness, than, after they have known it, to turn from the holy commandment delivered unto them. But it is happened unto them according to the true proverb, The dog is turned to his own vomit again; and the sow that was washed to her wallowing in the mire.”

Deep. This was a scripture that he’d meditated and prayed on for a while. Heading a congregation, he’d witnessed this happening time and time again. So often, people who knew Christ reverted back to their old ways. They got tangled up in the world and often times became enslaved once again to the evil things that had controlled them before. Those things could be sexual addiction, alcoholism, drug abuse, pornography, lying, causing division among other people, or wrath. For those people, it would have been better for them to have never known the right way. They knew what was right, yet still turned away from it. Turning away from the right way is like a dog turning back to lick up its own vomit or like a clean pig going back to the mud and wallowing in filth again.

Raymond had his own personal testimony to the fact. He’d battled long and hard with drinking. He had been what they classified as a “stay-at-home drunk.” He hadn’t needed to hang around people to get his drink on. He drank frequently and he’d started doing so at a young age. He’d also smoked marijuana. At one time, he too could roll a blunt with the best of them. Unlike President Clinton, he did inhale. Drugs and alcohol had been a significant part of his life.

God had truly delivered him from the pits of hell. Alcoholism was a disease that could eat away at you from the inside out. Smoking weed destroyed brain cells in a way that you couldn’t possibly imagine. They had both, at one point in time, enslaved him. God’s grace had broken the binds of those enslaving chains and released him.

Raymond sat back in the leather office chair and sighed aloud. Knowing the right way but turning back to the wrong way had been what caused his marriage to end. Sometimes, he wondered if he could have handled things differently. Maybe his wife would have stayed with him.

But, he didn’t want to dwell on that. He could write a book on all the right and wrong things to do in a marriage. Presently, he was doing what he’d been ordained to do by God. His ex-wife hadn’t been able to handle that.

“Wist ye not that I must be about my Father’s business?” Doing God’s will was the only thing of importance to him. He couldn’t help but feel a certain surprise when he was hit with, “And the LORD God said, It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a help meet for him.”

Chapter Three

“I hate my life,” Audrey grumbled as she struggled to pull the cleaning cart through the hotel’s hallway. She worked thirty hours a week as a maid at the Holiday Inn. The cart held a variety of items - cotton towels, soaps, shampoos, shower caps and plastic cups - that sported the hotel’s logo. There were also individual coffees, sugars, and creamers. On the bottom level were the toiletries.

Audrey rapped on the door to warn any guests that she would be entering. Receiving no answer, she used her card to swipe her way inside. She opened the door, went inside and surveyed the room. From the looks of it, the occupants had checked out.

She liked when the guest had vacated the premises. That way, she wouldn’t feel rushed or feel as if she was invading someone’s personal space. Some people were funny like that. They didn’t want anyone in their room with their belongings.

Audrey didn’t blame them for feeling that way. Some of the women she worked with had sticky fingers. Eartha, the person who trained her, had been that type. She ate the people’s snacks, searched through the closets, half made the beds, and drank their soft drinks.

Eartha had ended up getting fired for stealing the hotel’s towels. She took them directly from the laundry room and placed them in large plastic trash bags used by the hotel. The supervisor of housekeeping caught her stuffing them in the trunk of her car so she couldn’t deny it.

Audrey sighed audibly. Eartha had been quite a character. She’d always had animated stories to share with them about her weekends. With Eartha around, there had never been a dull moment. If only she hadn’t been such a kleptomaniac, she’d be there for Audrey to talk to. Maybe then her mind wouldn’t drift so often, causing her to get depressed about her job.

After attending college for four years and obtaining a Bachelor’s Degree in Business Management, this is where she’d ended up, cleaning up after folk. What a shame and what a waste of her skills and qualifications.

She couldn’t believe the way her life had taken a turn for the worse. At one point, she’d been living high on the hog, so to speak. She had a nice home, drove a SUV and had plenty of money in the bank. She’d been able to enjoy life. If she wanted to blow one of her checks on shopping for frivolous things, she did just that. She went out to dinner and splurged at least once a month.

She could remember when she, Jeanya and Faith had decided to make every third Saturday girl’s day. Somehow they all manage to get rid of their children so they could enjoy a relaxing day. They went shopping from mall to mall. Sometimes they end up in Sarasota. Other times, they wound up in Tampa.

Tired from walking from store after store, they’d stop at a nice restaurant and sit down to eat. That usually resorted in them having a few drinks. Once alcohol entered the equation, there’d be no telling what could happen next. The night would usually end with them trying to dance the effects of the alcohol off at a club.

Audrey sighed again. Those had been the good old days. But, she’d been unfortunate enough to meet Curtis Black. Just saying his name put a bad taste in her mouth.

Curtis. He could sweet-talk the panties off a nun then convince God that he’d done nothing wrong. He not only messed up Audrey’s credit, he just about ruined her life.

Thinking about that slimy dog made her so angry. She snatched the sheets off the two twin beds and threw them on the floor. As she re-made the beds with fresh, clean linen her thoughts drifted.

She’d met Curtis Black during her senior year at college. He’d been in her Business Law class. One day he asked her for a ride home and she took him. This was the start of the worst relationship she’d ever gotten herself into.

From the jump, many red flags went up that she refused to acknowledge. For instance, Curtis never offered her any gas money and she drove all out her way to take him home. Next, Curtis always wanted something to eat from Wendy’s or McDonalds, but Curtis never reached for his wallet. Curtis even told her that she tipped too much and had the audacity to take two dollars back one time when they went out to dinner. Of course, she had paid the bill. That should have been a clear warning, but she’d missed it.

She’d ignored all the signs. At the time, she’d been lonely and suffering from a dry spell. Actually, the dry spell had just about turned into a drought.

Curtis hadn’t been bad looking. He wasn’t a Denzel Washington, but he could run neck to neck with Cuba Gooding Jr.

She’d been vulnerable to his overtures and naïve to his smooth maneuvers. She tried not to rush into sex, but he piled the charm on heavily. A month later, she finally gave in.

Once they become intimate, Curtis transformed into a new creature. He became bossy and demanding. Not only that, he started to talk down to her. He even went so far as to try to control every aspect of her life. To make matters worse, she let him. She hated to admit it, but the man had her mind.

The things he had done in the bedroom temporary blinded her. But once she saw her bank statement three months later, she snapped back to all five of her senses. A confrontation had been inevitable.

Curtis had made numerous withdrawals in substantial amounts. When she asked him about them, he became mute all of a sudden. He couldn’t explain what he’d done with her money. The final straw was when she discovered he’d maxed out her credit card to buy spinning rims for his car! (A car that she’d purchased with her student loan check.) Not only that, he used her social security number to buy a cell phone that he ran up over a thousand dollars.

He’d squandered the rent money. All of her bills were late because he hadn’t paid them, even though she’d given him the money to do so. She couldn’t believe that a human being could be so selfish and heartless. How could he even look in the mirror without breaking it? She considered him less of a man, taking advantage of a single parent.

She ended up getting evicted for lack of payment of the rent. She had to move into a smaller, two bedroom house that she could barely afford. She had to ask her mother to get the electricity turned on for her. She couldn’t do it in her name because they wanted a $400 deposit up front, which she simply didn’t have. It’s sad to have to get a bill put in your mother’s name, but it couldn’t be helped.

There was no more cable, cell phone or second phone line. She had to cut back on the excess. She seemed to have gotten caught up in Murphy’s Law. Whatever could go wrong did go wrong. Right after she moved, they cut her position at the insurance company where she worked as a claims processor. Since she’d been there for five years she received a severance package, but that had only lasted for so long.

She signed up with numerous temp agencies. Things got difficult because even the temporary employment agencies required a credit check. Many times, she got turned down for the good-paying jobs because of her poor credit score.

She considered filing bankruptcy but didn’t even have the money to do that. It seemed like a no-win situation. She couldn’t get a job because of her credit and she couldn’t fix her credit because she didn’t have a job!

Once the bills started piling up and the electric, phone and water got disconnected a few times, she swallowed her pride and applied for the housekeeping position at the hotel. Her brother knew someone who knew someone else that could get her hired.

She needed a job desperately in order to take care of her family. Even though she’d been over-qualified for the position, she convinced the manager that she’d be one of the best room attendants she’d ever hired if given a chance.

Now, she was grateful she had a steady paycheck but felt stuck cleaning rooms. She continued to put in applications for other jobs, but so far nothing had come of it. She felt like she wasn’t living up to her potential and that really bothered her self-esteem. Working as a maid, couldn’t turn into a lifetime career.

She graduated with a Bachelor’s degree but now found herself broke, with bad credit. All she had to look forward to was paying back student loans. Not to mention the constant phone calls she received from various bill collectors.

She couldn’t understand bill collectors. If she hadn’t paid them then what made them think she would pay them now when she had next to nothing? Keeping food in the refrigerator, having a roof over her children’s heads and maintaining the necessities was all she cared about right now. Old credit card bills and personal loans didn’t stand a chance of getting paid. Even if she wanted to pay, she couldn’t do it on her meager salary.

Audrey surveyed the room to make sure everything was satisfactory. Even though she hated being a maid, she still did the best job that she could. Unlike some of the other maids, she thoroughly cleaned the rooms and changed the sheets on every bed. She wouldn’t take any short cuts because she knew she wouldn’t want someone to do that to her. Those people paid their hard earned money to be able to stay overnight in a clean room. It was the least she could do.

Audrey’s spirits picked up by the end of her shift. She received nearly $75 dollars in tips - money that she didn’t have to share with anyone, not even Uncle Sam. Being courteous, polite and friendly to everyone she encountered paid off. She could treat her sons to the movies with the extra money.

As she drove toward home, she noticed that her 1993 Saturn seemed to jerk when it switched gears. The last thing she needed was car problems.

“Not the transmission Lord,” she prayed. She’d have to take it somewhere the next day she had off. She couldn’t afford to be without a vehicle. For the time being, she stopped at the Family Dollar Store and got a bottle of transmission fluid.

“I hope this delays the problem,” she said as she pulled into her yard and popped the hood.

“Mama, what you doing?” Bernard, her eight-year old son asked. He’d cracked the door and peered out when he heard her pull up.

She threw him a smile. She’d taken the job at the hotel because she didn’t want her children to be at home alone for too long before she arrived. She usually got off at three o’ clock. As it was, they spent less than an hour without adult supervision. Even though her oldest was twelve, she just didn’t trust him to be responsible enough if something went wrong.

“I’m putting transmission fluid in the car,” she told him. “Where’s your brother?”

“Playing video games.”

“Did you do your homework?” Silence. “Nard, did you do your homework?” she repeated.

“Nope, not yet,” he admitted.

“Well, go inside, sit down at the table and do it. Make sure you turn the TV off,” she reminded.

“Okay.” She could hear the door close as he went back inside. She poured the transmission fluid in then slammed the hood shut.

As soon as she entered the house she could feel her blood pressure rise. The couch pillows were tossed on the floor, shoes blocked her path. In the kitchen, dirty dishes sat in the sink. Spilled soda in the middle of the table trickled onto the tiled floor, making one huge puddle. The final straw was a big gigantic jelly handprint on the door of the refrigerator.

“Shaquil!” she called. “Shaquil! Get in here.”

Shaquil, tall and lanky and looking like his daddy, ambled into the room.

“Why is this kitchen- this house looking like this?” she asked, indicating the grape jelly and the messy living room. He shrugged nonchalantly. “Clean it up. Now!” His lips moved but he said nothing. “Boy, don’t make me go up-side your head. You know it irritates me when you stand there mouthing off.”

“But I didn’t say nothing,” Shaquil whined, heading for the sink.

“Just you moving your lips says enough. Don’t cop an attitude with me. I have to get on you every day about this house.” By now she’d ventured into their room. “Oh Lord have mercy! I know you don’t think that this room is clean! I told both of you to clean up this room this morning before I left for work. Is this supposed to be clean?” She stared at Shaquil like he’d lost his mind. He was the oldest but also the laziest. At least the baby had attempted to make up his bed. It was a pitiful attempt but at least he’d tried. She just shook her head. “When you finish the dishes and when you finish your homework, both of you, go clean up that room. Don’t make me have to tell you again or I’ll be getting the wooden spoon.” Shaquil laughed. “Oh, you think that’s funny? You just try me. By the way- ” She waited for both of them to look at her. “I was going to take you to the movies, but since y’all so hard-headed, that’s out of the question.”

“Aw man!” Bernard pouted.

“Mama, that ain’t right!” Shaquil griped.

“What ain’t right is your attitude. When you two learn to do as I ask you to do, then you’ll be rewarded. You’re not going to get anything for being hardheaded. I shouldn’t have to tell you the same thing over and over again.”

“I know because I’m tired of hearing it,” Shaquil said under his breath.

“What? Boy, don’t get hit in the mouth,” she warned.

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he muttered.

Audrey just glared at the back of his head as he stood at the sink half-heartedly washing dishes. She had the mind to just pop him right upside his mug. He was just getting too grown and sassy for his own good. Somebody would have to do something with him because she was going to hurt his behind.

“You stop talking back to mama!” Bernard piped up, giving his brother a serious look from his position on the floor in front of the television. He wasn’t at the table and the TV was still on, but Audrey was too tired to comment on it.

“Shut up!” Shaquil snapped at him.

“You shut up!” Bernard yelled back.

Audrey raised her voice over them. “Boys, please! Will you both just be quiet? Y’all are giving me a headache.” She massaged her temples and sighed aloud. “I’m going to take a shower and lie down for a while,” she told them.

Bernard got up from the floor where he’d been doing his homework. He stretched out his arms for a hug.

“I love you,” he said as she embraced his warm body.

“I love you more.”

“I love you much, much more!”

“Whatever!” Shaquil said from the kitchen. “I just threw up in the back of my throat.”

* * * * *

Audrey had just nodded off when a light tapping on her door awakened her. She sat up in bed and looked around the semi-darkened room.

“Yes, what is it?”

“Mama,” she heard Bernard’s muffled voice through the door.

“Yes, what is it?” she repeated, getting up and cracking the door to peer at him. She felt groggy but at least her headache had dissipated.

“I was playing with my cars and I found this up under the couch,” he said, holding out a white business sized envelope. She immediately noticed that it was from the middle school that Shaquil attended. It was addressed: To the Parents of Shaquil Peterson.

“Thank you baby. Go back in the living room and watch cartoons.”

“Okay.” He closed the door, reopened it, stuck his head in and said, “I love you!”

She smiled. “I love you, too.” Once the door clicked shut she tore open the letter to read the contents.

She couldn’t believe what her eyes showed her. It was a Notice of Suspension. Shaquil had gotten suspended one day for continuous misconduct!

“What has this boy done now?” she fumed as she stormed out of her room. Her headache had returned full force. “Shaquil! You get your behind in here, right now!” Once he stood in front of her, he gave her a bored expression. “What is the meaning of this?” She angrily waved the letter in front of his face. “Explain to me how you ended up getting suspended from school! And why did you shove the notice under the couch?”

“I didn’t shove nothing under the couch,” he blatantly lied.

“Why did your brother find it under the couch then?” He just continued to look bored and unaffected. She felt like snatching his head off. She bet she’d get a reaction from him then. “I guess it just grew legs and crawled under the couch by itself? “

“Must been did,” he said.

“Boy, just get out of my sight! I can’t stand to look in your face right now. Just go!” He walked off. “And no video games. Turn it off! Turn the TV off. Read a book or look at the wall for all I care!”

Since it wasn’t four o’clock, his school hadn’t closed. She picked up the phone and dialed the number at the bottom of the letter.

After her conversation with the assistant principal, she was even hotter than before. Her first thought was to get the belt and wear Shaquil’s behind out. But, she had to exhale. He was too big for whippings. Plus, she was in no mood to be chasing him around the room. She would just have to call his daddy.

She dreaded making that call and letting Russell in on her business. It would just be one more thing that Russell could hold against her. As if he had room to judge. He was always so busy working that he didn’t have time for the boys. That probably was one of the reasons Shaquil continued to act up at school. Shaquil knew that she wasn’t going to do anything to him but yell and perhaps ground him. He also wasn’t too concerned about what Russell would do. By the time he showed up, the incident would have been forgotten. She couldn’t postpone the inevitable so she picked up the phone.

After her conversation with Russell, she felt even more stressed. She thought about having a drink. She had a bottle of Arbor Mist in the refrigerator but that wasn’t nearly strong enough. She needed some hard liquor like brandy or cognac. She wanted something that would go straight to her head and make her forget everything.

She contemplated what to do about her son. She’d heard the horror stories of what some parents went through once their children became teenagers. It seemed that she wouldn’t be spared. Shaquil hadn’t quite made it to his thirteenth birthday and he was already cutting up.

She’d learned from the assistant principal that Shaquil had been caught in the hallway with two other six graders playing with matches. When spotted, he threw down the matches and ran. Since these incidents had been occurring at the school for some time, the assistant principal felt it should be investigated. She pulled all of the boys involved out of their classes and questioned them. All three received one-day suspensions. She suggested that Audrey sign him up to attend the Pinellas County Juvenile Firesetters Program. Audrey hadn’t even known such a program existed.

After agonizing over her problems, she finally retrieved the bottle of Arbor Mist and poured a glass. It wasn’t long before one glass turned into two. She knew that she’d wake up the next morning with a hangover. Cheap liquor always did that to her. But, for the time being, she continued to sip and sulk.

* * * * *

Russell sat back on her living room couch wearing that holier than thou expression that he always had. He’d just finished having a conversation with Shaquil. “That’s the problem with you, you just stop at the surface and don’t try to get to the bottom of what’s going on,” he told her. She wasn’t even listening to him, but pretended that she was. “After digging a little deeper, I found out what he and those other boys were really doing.”

Audrey sighed aloud. “They were playing with matches and could have burned the school down,” she said. “At least, that’s what the assistant principal told me,” she added. “She recommended a program for kids who attempt arson.”

“Arson? That’s nothing. Knuckle head here-” he indicated Shaquil who sat next to him on the couch. He wore a remorseful look now that his daddy was there.

“- was really trying to smoke weed.”

“What?” she exclaimed. She crossed her arms and glared at her son. “I know he didn’t!”

“Oh, yes he did. He told me that’s what they’d been doing the other times too. One of the boys came to school with a sack of marijuana and they rolled a joint. They were attempting to smoke it when they got caught.”

“He’s twelve-years-old. His friends couldn̵