by Tia Sirrah
"Conner told us. He stopped by our new place the other night. Imagine my surprise, hearing it from him and not from my best friend," she lightly admonished.
This was news to me. Conner and Quentin were best friends, so I guess he beat me to it. "I’m sorry, Amy."
She flipped her long blond hair over her shoulder and turned towards me, perching an arm on the back of the bench. "It sounds serious. Conner seems smitten with you." She took a sip from her straw, eyeing me skeptically. "You look ridiculously happy. A lot must have happened while I was away." She examined me with narrowed eyes. "I must say, I’m surprised. You usually don’t sleep with a guy you’ve known for such a short amount of time. You made Andre wait a long time. Even with Marcus, you guys had been classmates for a year before you had sex with him."
I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and absentmindedly rubbed my new pendant between my fingertips. "We actually haven’t had sex yet," I admitted. Sexual acts, yes. You say potato, I say po-tah-to.
Amy choked on her lemonade.
"You’re so dramatic, Amy." I pursed my lips.
"I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. I’ve known Conner for a long time. You do know he’s slept with hundreds of women, right? He’s a sex maniac, for crying out loud. And you guys haven’t had sex yet?"
"Say it louder. I don’t think the people across the street heard you," I quipped. "It’s different with us. And I really care about him." A slow grin formed on my face. "I know this sounds crazy. But I’ve never felt this way before about anyone."
"Wow. You’ve got it bad. I mean, I’ve never seen you like this. I’ve never seen Conner so taken with anyone. What Creole voodoo magic spell do you have him under?" I brushed my middle finger across my face, gesturing to her how I felt about that little comment. "Oh, lighten up." She shooed a manicured hand at me. After looking at me knowingly for a couple of seconds, she said, "Ah, I see. What’s the vernacular I’m looking for…dick sucking lips? You do have those, so I guess I can see why Conner’s sticking around."
"What the hell?" I shook my head. "There are so many things wrong with what you just said."
Amy looked affronted and splayed a hand on her chest. Her diamond rock of a wedding ring blinded me. "What? Don’t get all overly sensitive on me."
"I’m just saying, Amy. It seems like you’re insinuating that the only way Conner could ever be interested in me is if I gave him head or put a voodoo spell on him. Hater, much?"
"Oh, my gosh! No, sweetie. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m kidding. I just didn’t expect this. You and him."
"I didn’t expect it either. But here we are. Am I crazy for falling so hard, so soon?"
She gave me a sympathetic smile. "You’re not crazy. Sweetie, you’re not the first woman who has fallen for an unattainable man. It’s just that…Conner doesn’t have a reputation of sticking around. I just don’t want you to get hurt."
Dread filled the pit of my stomach, and I winced at her words. "Do you think he’ll hurt me?"
She sighed and shrugged. "I don’t know. Is he worth it?"
Both feet in. "Yes. I’m in this." I decided to fill her in on our plans. "I’m spending the weekend at his place. I’m ready to take things to the next level."
She was stunned silent for a moment, which was totally not the reaction I expected from her. "Wow, that’s…that’s great, honey," she smiled. "Just be safe, okay."
"I’m not stupid. We’re both clean and get tested regularly. I showed him my test results, and he showed me his. And I’m still on birth control." I held up my forearm and pointed to the tiny birth control implant under my skin.
"Looks like you have this all figured out then." She clasped my hand in hers. "God knows you deserve to be happy. And if he makes you happy," she said on a sigh, "I support it." She smiled, and her eyes were hopeful.
I exhaled, feeling lighter. "Enough about Conner. How are things with you and Quentin?"
Her smile faltered a bit. "Let’s just say, there’s more passion and love between you and Conner, than Quentin and I ever had." I squeezed her hand, my eyes misting up at seeing the conflicted look on her face. "The way Conner spoke about you…" she trailed off, her cornflower blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Trust me, you’re not the only who’s falling in love."
"So, what now? Have you talked to Quentin about it?"
She shook her head. "No use."
"What was it like on the honeymoon? There was no connection?"
"We only had sex once. He was a total dick most of the time." She leaned back and ran both hands through her hair. "I don’t have to be in love to screw, you know. But he barely touched me." She fumed with anger; her cheeks were now flushed. "Quentin is a great lover. One of the best I’ve had. Everyone loves him. Everyone wants to be his friend. They think he frickin’ walks on water. But sometimes, he can be cold, so distant. It’s like I don’t even know him. He won’t let me in. Ever."
"Think you’ll stay with him?"
She shrugged. "I don’t want to talk about Quentin."
I gave her a sympathetic smile. "Okay, I understand. Let’s gossip instead," I said, rubbing my hands together, conspiratorially.
We spent the rest of the hour catching up on gossip and looking at Lake Como pictures on her phone.
∞∞∞
"YOU KNOW I LOVE your ass. You could have booked an appointment at the shop," Fatima said as she strolled through my door.
"Thank you, cousin," I responded while hugging her.
"Got me coming over here on my day off," Fatima grumbled with a smirk on her face. She headed to the kitchen island where my schoolbooks were scattered about and picked at a fruit platter that I had prepared just for her. "You do get brownie points for feeding me."
"I made some smothered chicken, rice, and cream corn for dinner later."
"Yass, girl! But don’t try to butter me up with food. You know what I really want is another Novalee creation." Popping a grape into her mouth, she winked at me.
"I just made you an outfit for your birthday," I stressed.
"Yeah, so…"
"So, you’re going to have to wait. I’m still working on a gown that I plan on wearing to the Brathwaite’s annual charity gala next weekend."
"Nice. Can I see the sketch?"
I grabbed my sketchbook and flipped through pages and pages of sketches until I found my most recent one. My latest design was a floor-length, backless gown with an asymmetrical neckline. I added a thigh-high split to the fitted gown for added flexibility. A scrap of ruby red crepe fabric was clipped to the page.
"I love it, cousin! You are so freakin’ talented. I don’t know why you’re not pursuing a career in fashion."
"Because I’m going to be a dentist," I said matter of factly, though I wasn’t too sure anymore.
"Yeah, that," she deadpanned. "Still trying to please step mommy and daddy, huh?" Her tone was laced with sarcasm. "Anyways," she drawled. "Let’s get started. With all this damn hair you got, I’ll be here all night."
I sat down on one of my barstool chairs. "I bought the extra-long Kanekalon hair."
"How long do you want it?" Fatima stood behind me and proceeded to part through my hair with a rat tail comb.
"Waist length. And I want them small to medium-sized. You know I hate thick braids."
"Oh, good lord. You so owe me."
"What color lipstick are you wearing, by the way? I love it!"
"I see what you’re doing." She combed through my hair, securing it in sections, before opening a pack of Kanekalon hair. "It’s fire though, huh," she said, referring to the glossy cranberry lipstick she wore. Fatima never left home without a full face of makeup. Her YouTube subscribers followed her religiously, not only for her hairstyling demo videos, but also for her makeup tutorials. Today she adorned a daytime smoky eye palette, which accentuated her perfectly arched natural eyebrows and almond-shaped eyes. Fatima was a classic beauty with killer bone structure and deep-set dimples in her cheeks. Her long goddess
locks were braided in a halo crown around her head.
"It is fire, like always," I chuckled. "And you taught me well, cousin. I will make you proud next weekend at the gala."
"I know you will." She dabbed a small amount of hair gel onto my edges, before wrapping the synthetic hair around mine and proceeding to cornrow it back.
Back in high school, Fatima taught me all the tricks of the trade on how to apply a full face. Fatima was a junior when Amy and I were freshmen. She was like a big sister to Amy and me. Besides makeup lessons, she gave us advice about boys and sex, showed us how to roll a blunt, and how to strut in 4-inch heels.
∞∞∞
"I LOVE IT, FATIMA! I ran my hands over my cornrows, looking at my hairdo in my bathroom mirror. "It’s so cute!"
She leaned against the doorframe while eating a plate of food. "I can’t have you out here lookin’ crazy with some whack ass braids."
After fixing myself a plate, Fatima and I took our food and drinks to the balcony. The sun had set over the cloudless sky, and the temperature was a bearable 75 degrees. "So, what’s going on with your love life? Whatever happened with bae from the club? He was fine." I sat back in one of my wicker chairs.
She took a swig of her beer and sat down beside me in the adjoining chair. "He was fine, right? Too bad he had a little dick."
I snorted in laughter. "And you would know that because…"
"Because I fucked him, duh." My eyebrows climbed before I schooled my face to a composed expression.
"Don’t give your judgy eyes." She pointed her beer towards me. "It was just sex. Safe sex."
After a few beats, I asked, "Well, was it good? Size isn’t everything."
Fatima pursed her lips. "The hell it ain’t. What type of guys do you be fucking?"
"Andre didn’t have much, but he knew how to work it."
She cackled loudly. "Damn, girl! You never told me Andre had a little one. Tell me more."
I laughed, my shoulders shaking, as I pressed my hand to my stomach. "You are a fool!"
After our laughter died down to a chuckle, she asked, "You don’t have to worry about that with Conner. I hear he’s an ovary bruiser."
I spit out my water, which resulted in Fatima and I laughing hysterically. "Don’t say things like that when I’m drinking. You are so inappropriate sometimes." I playfully shoved her.
"Here you go. Still trying to pretend like you’re Lil’ Miss Innocent. I know you, cousin. I know an undercover freak when I see one."
"Whatever," I chuckled.
"You can fool your daddy all you want. Hell, you can fool Conner, for now. But I know you love to fuck."
"Fatima!" I feigned offense, dramatically splaying my hand across my chest.
"Umm, remember when Chris and I spent a few weeks with you and Andre in Cabo? You two weren’t exactly quiet."
"You heard us?" I was mortified even though it was years ago. We were staying in a six thousand square foot house with our bedrooms in separate wings.
"Yeah, bitch. We heard y’all. Multiple times a day."
I had been told by Andre and Marcus that I had a strong sexual appetite. Maybe I was making up for lost time. While everyone back in high school was screwing like bunnies, I remained a virgin until I was nineteen years old.
"Don’t be embarrassed. It gave Chris and me some good porn material to work with." At that, I threw my balled-up napkin at her. "I know aunt Helena raised you to be all prim and proper. And men love that shit. They love a good girl in public and a freak in private."
Fatima placed her empty plate on the side table and leaned back in her chair. After a few seconds of silence, she said, "In all seriousness, I’m happy for you, cousin. I saw that Conner added a picture of you to his Facebook page. He even changed his relationship status."
"Really? When did he do that?" I had yet to reactivate my social media accounts.
"Yesterday. Brace yourself, cousin. It’s about to be a crazy ride. More than a few people have already linked you to being the former reality t.v. star and ex-fiancé of Andre Johnston."
"I wish Conner would have asked me first before doing that."
"At least he’s claiming your ass. You’re not some secret fuck that he hooks up with whenever he feels like taking a walk on the black side." She sneered. "Conner is letting it be known that you’re his woman." Fatima stared out into the night sky and took in a shaky breath. "This man knew you for a week before making you his woman. It’s a little crazy and possessive as fuck." I groaned. "But it’s beautiful, cousin. I love the fact that he gives zero fucks. He saw who he wanted, and he went for it. Fuck the haters." Fatima had a point. Conner and I couldn’t hide behind closed doors forever. At least he seemed to be all in.
Fatima’s eyes looked unusually glossy as she continued. "It would have been so much easier to go after a woman he’s expected to be with, rather than the woman he wants to be with. He followed his heart and got a real one. Not some fuckin’ tea hat-wearing, country club chick. Not Conner. Instead of starring in an Amy and Quentin remake, Conner had a fucking backbone."
I read between the lines. And what I read, I had a hard time reconciling. I reached over the took Fatima’s hand.
"That’s what I want one day, Novalee. A man who isn’t afraid to follow his heart, instead of following his selfish ambitions. Anyways," she drawled.
"You know you can talk to me, right? About anything." I squeezed her hand.
"I love you, cousin. It’s getting late, and we both have an early day tomorrow." She rose from her chair and grabbed her plate. I followed her inside and stood beside her by the sink. Just like when we were kids, she washed the dishes, and I rinsed and dried them. Tonight, we did this in silence, as my mind went through memories and moments during our high school years and beyond. I racked my brain, searching for something, anything that I missed. Or maybe it was something I chose not to see, because of the conflict it would have created between two people whom I loved dearly.
"I’ll text you when I get home," Fatima said, as she dried her hands with the dishtowel.
"Please, do." I helped her gather her things. "I’ll walk you to the elevator."
She hugged me goodbye when the elevator doors opened. "Have fun tomorrow night. Tell Conner I said hi."
"Thanks. Will do." After the elevator doors closed, I remained frozen in place. How did I not see it before? How did I not see that Fatima was in love with Quentin?
Chapter 7
CONNER SENT HIS DRIVER, Colin, to pick me up. Colin stood beside the opened passenger door of a shiny black Rolls Royce Phantom. He was a tall, imposing middle-aged man, with red buzz-cut hair, and a thick Irish accent. He was dressed in a black tailored Canali suit and dark aviator sunglasses. Once I settled inside of the car, I surveyed the plush peanut butter leather interior. There was a transparent glass partition that turned opaque with the press of a button. The glass also appeared to be soundproof with an intercom button for communication purposes. This came in handy since my dad called not long after we drove away.
"What do you really know about this young man," my father asked gruffly.
"Daddy, he’s a great guy. You can’t believe everything you see on the Internet."
"So, I shouldn’t believe my lying eyes? He had a different woman on his arm in every single photograph."
"Daddy, what’s the crime in that? He was a single man."
"I’ll tell you what’s wrong with it. Now he’s with my daughter. Helena and I didn’t raise you to become some man’s trophy piece."
I winced at his words and his tone. "Daddy, I’m not doing this with you right now."
"Excuse me?" he asked incredulously.
"I will not do this right now. Conner is my boyfriend. He cares about me, and I care about him deeply. Your opinion of him is not going to change that." If I could’ve high fived myself, I would have. I’d never spoken up to my father before about anything.
"I see you’ve lost your mind. Talking to me like this."
"We’ll see about that," he grumbled.
"Okay, daddy. Talk to you soon. Love you."
"Love you too, Freckles."
After disconnecting the call, Colin drove through a large iron rod gate. Two security guards, who sat inside of a guard station, tipped their hats as we drove by. We cruised down wide tree-lined streets with antique streetlight posts scattered about. Mansions were tucked away behind sprawling lawns and circular driveways, fountains and constructed lakes. Colin made a few turns before driving down a secluded road towards another set of custom wrought iron gates with the initials C B monogrammed in the center. The gates opened for us and we passed mature curved oak trees on each side of the road that connected overhead, blocking out the sun. Acres of pristine green lawn surrounded us, before slowing to a stop in front of a large stone and stucco mansion with sharp lines and lots of windows. The two-story estate had a large wrap around balcony on the second story and a rooftop deck. Connected to the massive home was an impressive size car garage. "We’re here, Miss," Colin’s voice reverberated through the intercom.
"Thank you, Colin," I said before adding some gloss to my lips and smoothing down my braids.
Colin helped me out of the car. I ran my hands down the mini, bell-sleeved, sunflower-yellow baby doll dress.
"I’ll see to it that your belongings get inside," Colin said as he retrieved my suitcase from the trunk.
"I appreciate it, Colin." I made my way up the front entrance and rang the doorbell. A few moments later, the door opened, and there stood my mouthwatering boyfriend. Conner was dressed casually fine in pair of tan khakis and a short sleeve soft cotton pale blue shirt. "Miss me?" I asked as I twirled a braid around my finger.