“I’m trying to talk about it.” Her lips trembled as she spoke.
“When both of us have time.”
He came to stand in front of her, smelling like a mix of warm musk and mango shampoo. He looked like every black woman’s dream with his Adonis features, chiseled body, and perfect height. Who picks up a ringing phone without looking at? She wanted to rip the BlackBerry from his slacks and smash it into his face. “You’re beeping,” she said.
He looked confused, like he couldn’t hear the insistent chirp in the quiet of the room.
“Your phone is beeping.” She pointed at his jacket pocket. “Don’t you need to see who it is?”
“I know who it is.”
That much is true, she thought.
“It’s the hospital. My patient is probably there.”
Angelina nodded and took the kiss he placed on her cheek. He really thought she was stupid. That particular beep was not the hospital.
“Don’t hold dinner. I’ve got a long day.” He threw the words over his shoulder as he left the room. He’d been tossing them way too much.
A long day—there were too many of those lately. Late evenings, strange phone calls, special beeps on his pager. She sat on the side of the bed and let the tears she’d been holding cascade down her cheeks. Her life was a mess. Her husband was probably cheating, and now as the final act of betrayal, he wanted to take her babies.
Greg’s going to break my heart. Angelina didn’t know when the other shoe would drop, but she knew it was falling. She closed her eyes and shut out the voice in her head that said leave him now because he wasn’ t going to do it. She needed to get something out of the thirteen years she’d sacrificed in the marriage. She wouldn’t let him steal her dream of being a mother. She had lost Danielle right before she was to turn six months, and she’d accepted that. She had no choice. That had been God’ s will. Her choices were to accept it or lose her mind. But to give up what she wanted to a man who walked around in a flesh and blood suit. No way. She was going to get pregnant and Gregory Preston was not going to stop her.
Chapter 5
I pulled my BMW Z4 convertible into traffic on Hammond Drive. The perfume counter at Saks had been pretty crowded for a Thursday morning, but I’d gotten what I wanted, or at least what I needed. I hadn’t expected to run into a one day sale. All the happy little, stay-at-home moms were out today spending their husband’ s money like I would be doing one day soon. I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. I was going to be a few minutes late for my lunch with Greg, but that was a good thing. He needed to wait for me for a change, especially since I had to wait so long for him to get up the nerve to actually take me to lunch. It hadn’t come without persuasion.
“Come on, you know I can’t go out with you in public. ”Greg had protested as he moved his body higher on the pillows I’d propped behind him.
I was ready for that lame excuse. I already knew how to work around that one. “You can explain me if you have to. I’m a consultant, remember? It would be a business lunch. ”That was somewhat true. I had a consulting business, back office practice administration stuff, but it wasn’t doing well. I’d had very few clients. A nursing background wasn’t enough of a credential these days. Everyone wanted an MBA, which I’d failed miserably at getting after I’d flunked out of the advance practice nurse program. Higher, higher education wasn’ t for me.
Greg hemmed and hawed for a moment. I pulled back the sheet that covered our bodies and climbed on top of him. After leaning forward and kissing him on the forehead and then the lips, I applied the pressure. “Look, I really like you, baby, and like you said, I knew you were married before I got into this, but baby, I can’t stay cooped up in this condo every day waiting for you. I’m young. I’ve got to get out.” I played with the hair on his chest.
After a moment of the pleasure, he weakened. “Okay. We can have lunch.”
I clapped my hands victoriously and squealed.
“But no touching and acting like lovers. The last thing I need is for my wife to find out about you. I’d be finished.”
Finished indeed, I thought.
I pulled in front of Moreland’s Fine Dining. I opened the small bottle of perfume I’d purchased and covered myself in a fresh spray of the scent. It wasn’ t exactly something I would wear, but it was appealing enough, and obviously if Mrs. Preston wore it, Mr. Preston liked it. The parking attendant pulled the door open and offered me his hand. I accepted his assistance and reached in for my briefcase. I loved first class service. Nothing topped it.
I strolled into Moreland’s like I had been here a thousand times. Although I had many occasions to dine in fine restaurants with the various men I’d dated in the past, the bourgeois interior of this particular establishment took my breath away. I’d read about it in Upscale magazine and saw clips on the Fine Dining Network channel, but I’d never expected it to be so posh. A tingling sensation traveled down my spine as I made purposeful strides through the restaurant atrium. I loved when men spent money on me. It was the perfect foreplay, and most of them knew it.
“Madame, may I assist you?” A man stepped into my path. I assumed he was the maître’d judging by his snooty tone and penguin attire.
I was stunned at his swiftness. I’d almost banged right into him. I wanted to let him know how annoyed I was at how he’d cut me off mid-stride, but instead I put on my brightest smile and used my well-rehearsed business voice. “Samaria Jacobs with Jacobs Better Health. I’m dining with Dr. Preston.”
The maitre’d took a few steps to a waist high podium at his left, looked over his glasses and down his nose at the reservation log, and then back at me. I was rewarded with a crisp smile. “Yes, Dr. Preston is waiting. Allow me to show you to the table.”
We walked a short distance, turned a corner, and I spotted Greg sitting at the end of a row of round tables near a window in the rear. He was doing something with his BlackBerry and was so distracted that he hadn’t seen my approach. Which was a shame; I’d purposely worn a skirt that accentuated my long legs.
The maitre’d cleared his throat to get Greg’s attention. “Dr. Preston, Ms. Jacobs.”
Greg stood. He took my elbow and guided me to the chair across from him. The maître’d nodded and walked away. I didn’t get the kiss I was used to receiving every time he greeted me. I hadn’t expected that—not today. I took my seat and placed my briefcase in the space next to me. Greg put his tall frame back into the seat he’d risen from. I took in a breath, and my stomach did the same flip it did whenever I set eyes on him.
Greg was fine. His skin was the color of an espresso bean, but his eyes a lighter, hazel color that contrasted so much with his complexion that it almost looked eerie. His short, curly hair had a part cut in front which gave him a boyish quality that I found very sexy for a man his age. His DNA would make some beautiful babies. Of course my perfect genes would help.
I met Greg at a downtown sports bar near one of the hospitals. At first he was standoffish. I could tell Dr. Preston wasn’t interested in a woman on the side, which made him even more appealing. Then one Wednesday afternoon he came into the bar visibly upset. After much prodding, he shared that he was grieving over a young patient that died in surgery. He was vulnerable and ripe for my advances. So I pushed and got him. I’d had him for six months, but being the woman on the side wasn’ t good enough. I wasn’t getting any younger. I wanted more. I wanted financial security.
“Waiting long?” I asked, cupping my hands together on the table.
“You know exactly how long I’ve been waiting because you’re late.” Greg pushed away from the table and adjusted his tie.
“I’m worth it,” I replied, batting my eyelashes. I pulled my legs under the table and stroked his upper thigh with the tip of my shoe to remind him of why he was here in the first place.
Greg shifted in his seat, and I sensed I’d gotten my message across. I opened my briefcase and removed a small notebook computer.
“What’s that for?”
“This is a business lunch, isn’t it?” I raised an eyebrow. “I’m helping with the presentation, Doctor.”
He laughed deeply and seemed to relax instantly. “You’re something else.”
“You know it.” I winked.
Greg and I chatted a bit. I ordered the most expensive steak on the menu and started a good bottle of wine. The good doctor couldn’t drink on the job, but I managed to get him drunk with lust. I teased him more than he could bear, so after lunch, we checked into a room down the street at the J.W. Marriott Hotel. Sex hadn’ t been in the plan for today, but I figured after paying over ninety dollars for lunch, if he was willing to spend another buck and a half for a hotel room, I’d let him. After all, the whole point of the outing was to remind him that I was no cheap trick he had on the side.
Not that he wasn’t already doing things for me. He had begun giving me a small stipend a few months ago to help out with my bills. I’d let him know how much I was struggling with the new business and he, of course, was more than happy to keep my stress to a minimum. I presented a monthly invoice to his office for consulting services, and by the tenth of every month, I had a check that covered half the cost of my condo and my entire car payment. Plus there was jewelry and other little things he would buy me from time to time. But even with his help, I had a cash flow problem. My paycheck was gobbled up in student loan debt and credit card bills. The two totaled more than sixteen-hundred dollars a month. The messed up grad school attempts and extra money I borrowed from the Department of Education had me sunk. A person couldn’ t escape student loan debt, not even in bankruptcy. I’d already explored that option. My ninety thousand dollar tab to Uncle Sam’s higher education department wasn’t going anywhere.
Greg stepped out of the bathroom, freshly showered and fully dressed. “I had a great time.” He came closer to the bed. I let the sheet fall from my shoulders. He got that gleam in his eyes again and leaned forward to kiss me.
“You’re something else you know.” He pulled away. “I’ve got to go. I have to be in surgery in an hour.”
“Too bad.” I lay back on the mattress and rolled onto my stomach, revealing the rest of my banging, naked body.
“Yes, too bad. But somebody has to work around here. ”Greg leaned down and kissed me one more time on the forehead. “I’ll call you later.”
I grabbed his tie, tugged until he came closer to me and whispered, “You sure you don’t have twenty more minutes?”
He growled low and deep. “I’m certain.” He removed my hand from his tie, smiled again, and pulled on his jacket.
“Don’t forget to call me.” I worked my body deeper into the mattress.
“I won’t,” he said. “Oh, and by the way, I like the new perfume. ”He disappeared through the door.
“I bet you do.” I turned over on my back and pulled the sheet around my body. I reached for my cell phone, pushed the buttons, and waited for an answer on the other end.
“Hello, Angelina. This is Rae Burns. I was wondering if we could have a cup of coffee.”
Like a clip out of a runway fashion show, I watched as Angelina pushed the door open and glided into the Caribou Coffee Shop where I was waiting for her. The spot was almost empty, so she saw me right away. She nodded a hello, went to the counter to order something, and then joined me. I jumped up from my seat and gave her a hearty hug like I’d learned from watching the church sisters the other night. “Thanks so much for meeting me.”
“No problem. I told you, I’ve love to help if I can.”
“Most people don’t make time for strangers.”
“Actually, I have to let you in on a little secret,” Angelina replied, hanging her bag on the back of her chair. “Our women’s group has a formal mentoring program for new Christians. It’s called Mentor-a-Sister. Once a woman joins, she’ s assigned a mentor to acclimate her to the church.”
I took a sip of my latte and considered what this might mean. “That’s interesting,” I said, although I didn’t quite know how interesting it actually would be.
“It’s a good program. The person who’s assigned to mentor is a spiritually mature woman who can answer questions about the Bible or pastor’s message. We pray with each other, talk to each other—share anything that needs to be shared. It’ s kind of like a fast friendship. It really helps because people usually feel all alone when they join a new church, especially one as large as Greater Christian.”
I didn’t say anything, just moved my cup around on the table. I couldn’ t believe my luck.
Angelina continued. “It’s not meant to be intrusive. It’s strictly on an as needed basis. You call, and your mentor is there for you. You don’t want to be bothered, and I go away.”
I sat back. “By ‘I go away,’ do you mean, you? Would you be my mentor?”
“If you’d like me to be. I’m only working with one other woman right now, and she’s already made some new friends.”
Bingo. I nodded noncommittally. I didn’t want to seem too eager.
Angelina looked puzzled, and when she made the next statement I knew why. “Don’t let me scare you off. I won’t be a pest, and I can certainly assign you to someone else if you’d like.”
“I think it’s a great idea. I could use someone to talk to about spiritual stuff from time to time. ” Shoot I didn’t want to play it so cool that I lost her.
Angelina’s face relaxed. The cashier delivered her coffee. She thanked her and took a hungry sip like she needed the jolt of caffeine. “So you said you hadn’ t joined the church yet?”
“No.” I played with my cup. “I don’t think the women like me. They were pretty chilly at Bible Study.”
“Well, you can’t let other people run you off from a good church.”
I raised my cup, took a sip, and held it to my lips to buffer my statement. “There are so many snobs.”
“There’s a reason you keep coming back.”
I put my cup down and looked her in the eye. “I try to surround myself with people who are where I want to be.”
Angelina nodded. “That’s admirable.”
I shrugged. “It can be lonely too; always being the outsider. ”A beat of silence passed between us. I couldn’t believe I’d said that. “Maybe you can unofficially mentor me. Convince me it’s the right church.”
Angelina pursed her lips. She was amused, but nodded her head. “We can give it a try.”
“Okay.” I raised my cup and took a sip. “Now that we have that bit of business out of the way, let’s talk about why I asked you here. ”I returned my cup to the table, crossed my legs, and locked my hands together atop my knees. It was time to find out if this diva knew her husband was creepin. In the coolest and calmest voice I could muster, I said, “Angelina, your husband is cheating.”
Chapter 6
Angelina felt like someone had kicked her, and she was actually having trouble seeing straight because Rae Burns had morphed into Satan. She was sitting there as cool as you please with her legs crossed liked she’d just said they’re having a secret sale at Neiman Marcus instead of, “your husband is cheating.”
A bead of perspiration formed over Angelina’s top lip, and she struggled to find her voice. The kick to her gut had been so hard. Who was this woman? She looked down through double vision and saw that her hand was trembling, so she released her coffee cup and clasped it with the other underneath the table. That would also ensure that she’d have a delay in snatching this heifer’ s weave out of her head if she answered her the wrong way. She cleared her throat. “What did you say?”
“Oooh, girl. Calm down. It’s a hypothetical question. ”Rae waved a hand. Then she picked her cup up off the table.
Angelina felt her heart slow it’s beating, but she still wanted to smack the stew out of her. What kind of stupid game was she playing? Why would she ...?
“I have a friend, and her husband’s cheating on her, or at least it looks like it. I need to give h
er some advice.”
Angelina reached for a napkin and began to pat the sweat above her upper lip.
“Are you okay?” Rae frowned.
Angelina picked up her now bitter coffee, took a sip, and put the cup on the table. “I’m okay. I’m just tired. A lot’s going on at work.”
“Oh yeah, it must be with that child’s death and all. They won’t stop talking about it on the news.” Rae was glaring at her. “And the poor little sister. What’ s to become of her?”
What was to become of Katrice indeed? Angelina had spent the day with the foster home assignment unit at Youth Services’ downtown office trying to find the right home for the little girl. They needed someone who wanted to foster-to-adopt, so when Katrice’s mother’ s parental rights were severed in a few months, she wouldn’t have to move again, but they hadn’t found anyone. They searched in an antiquated database that hadn’ t been updated, and then went through manual files, but no one in their entire roster was a right fit. None of their adoption-ready foster parents were looking for a little black girl. It broke Angelina’s heart.
“The news reported she’s in a new foster home.”
“I can’t talk about the case,” Angelina responded. Rae shrugged, and Angelina was glad she was moving on, but no sooner than she thought it, she regretted the boomerang in the conversation.
“So now, your husband’s cheating,” Rae continued. “What’s the first thing that goes through your mind? Besides who is she?”
Angelina reached up and smoothed her hair. She really, truly didn’t want to go there. So she stalled. “Tell me about your friend.”
Rae rolled her eyes up. “She’s a good friend, one of my best since high school, and she’s been married to this clown for five years. He’s a college professor, and he’ s been working late and leaving early a lot, getting phone calls, coming home showered ...”
Rae’s voice began to fade as a mental picture of Angelina’ s own husband came to mind. His late nights and early mornings. He had a lipstick stain on a shirt last week and the unmistakable scent of a woman’s perfume hummed from the cotton fabric.
An Inconvenient Friend Page 3