The success of the consulting company skyrocketed after the press got ahold of the news that the four fearless women who had shared their dark industry secrets had formed together to work at a company. They had been in almost every television show, newspaper, and magazine there was—everyone wanted them for an interview. They had all made a remarkable shift in the way women in the business were viewed; they were thanked daily by women who said their male bosses had been more respectful and they had been treated less like sex objects. They never imagined they would go from being ashamed of their stories to proud. It was the power of drama.
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From Diva Diaries
Chapter 1
FOOL ME TWICE, SHAME ON ME
“I am such a fool—I am getting too old for this crap,” Dakota said to herself as she sat on the edge of her king-size bed. Her bed was covered in peach silk sheets, with two scented candles burning on both nightstands. The lights were dim all throughout her condo, and her Bose stereo in the bedroom was quietly playing Avant’s latest album. Right outside her building was the busy traffic and chaos of midtown Manhattan, but on the inside of 4D was a romantic getaway.
Dakota had already spent thirty years on this earth, but there were times she felt like she hadn’t learned a thing. It still amazed her how, with all the street smarts she had from her years of growing up in Brooklyn, she was able to make her way through life and through corporate America, but she couldn’t seem to prevent nights like these.
She had made her way from her bedroom into the living room, attempting not to focus on her rising anger. She hit PLAY on her TiVo box, and her television began playing back her recorded episode of Judge Judy. After about twenty minutes, she had stopped paying attention to what the evidence was from the plaintiff and her mind started to wander again. She began to analyze what was happening on yet another Friday night.
“I can’t believe I am lying here alone in this expensive lingerie, freezing my butt off, and God knows where he is or who he is with,” she murmured.
A dozen thoughts ran through her head as she slowly felt herself losing any bit of romantic or sexy vibes she had left in her body. The more emotional she got, the more she knew it was only minutes before she would completely lose it and leave Tony a nasty message on his answering machine. She would have told him to his face, but he was m.i.a. and wasn’t answering his house or cell phone. He was supposed to be at her place at 9:00, and it was now 11:30, and not even a simple call was made to inform her of any change of plans.
Maybe he fell asleep, maybe he had a car accident, maybe something really urgent came up, maybe he is on his way and his cell battery is dead. Maybe, maybe, shmaybe. She knew he was just fine and he was just being a man. She was tired of making excuses for him, to herself, to her friends; she had to fill in his blanks constantly. It was just her way of delaying having to face the reality that he was up to no good. She couldn’t give him the benefit of the doubt, because he didn’t deserve it. She had done that early in the relationship, the first few times he pulled something like this, but at this point she knew from experience.
She sat there and envisioned just how the night was going to play out, how it would happen and what he would say and do. He would eventually call or show up and actually almost pretend like nothing was really wrong. He would just hope his sorry excuse would be enough, or at least his sorry attempt at apologizing and seduction. On nights when she just wanted not to waste her preparation for the night, she would just let it go, but on other nights, when her self-pride was shaking its head at her, she would make a big deal out of it.
Some nights she would call up her girls to vent, and try to get some sense talked into her head. But this relationship was becoming way too dysfunctional, and quite honestly, Dakota was not in the mood to face that. At least not tonight, not as she sat in her room in a teal-and-pink Frederick’s of Hollywood negligee. Besides, she knew what they would say, or at least what they would think, even if they didn’t tell her. She knew so well because she knew what she would think when she heard a story from one of her female counterparts getting played by her man. Even when the girl is in denial, it’s not hard to tell when she is getting played. Dakota was a realist—she knew her man was up to no good.
Dakota didn’t know if she was more frustrated with herself or with men, because before Tony, the last guy she let into her heart was her college sweetheart, Chris, who turned out to be a real barking dog. She spent years trying to work through stuff with him and forgive him for his infidelities. Once she realized he was just taking advantage of her obvious fear to let go of him and be alone, she promised herself she would never be that way with any man again. She had convinced herself no man was worth losing her self-respect, and she wasn’t taking any nonsense from any of them. She had decided she would much rather greet them, freak them, fuck them, then duck them. She preferred that over getting all caught up in fairy-tale land. In a sense, she adapted to the ways of men; she wasn’t looking for a serious commitment and wasn’t trying to make one. So, Tony was the first one to break through some of that wall in a long time. Still, she had made all of these rules for herself about things she wouldn’t accept, but once again, love and emotions found her back in the same predicament. Dealing with the same excuses, different man…or, better yet…same shit, different dog.
Tony was probably the worst man that she could have let her guard down for, too. In no time, she allowed good sex to turn into feelings she had no business having. Tony wasn’t just a professional athlete who was often traveling—he had another woman in his life. Dakota heard at some point they were engaged, but he told her differently. Either way, she was aware there was a woman out there whom he kept protected. He would tell Dakota he was only with this girl for the sake of their child and that he didn’t love her. Of course, he loved Dakota and wanted to be with her—at least that’s what he said. Whenever Dakota would complain or catch him in a lie, he would say I just ask that you be patient with me and understand my lifestyle.
Dakota was naive when she was in love—that’s why she tried her best not to feel that way. It wasn’t worth the headache or heartache. Even as naive as she could be, she could usually see through Tony’s b.s. Unfortunately, she really wanted to believe him. He was just the kind of guy that Dakota felt was a match for her. Successful, handsome, charismatic, and he had great taste. If she settled down, she wanted it to be with him, if she could only get him to do it. So she sat here on nights like this, trying to show him what she had to offer. Except he was nowhere to be found.
It was now about midnight, and Dakota broke down and called her girlfriend Chrasey. Just sitting there watching television was not making her feel any better; she was leaving room for a variety of angry thoughts to fill her head. She needed some type of human contact.
“Dakota, leave his behind alone…stop putting yourself through this…I don’t even know why you wait on him…You know how it goes—he fooled you once, it was shame on him. But now he keeps fooling you—shame on you,” Chrasey rambled on as soon as she heard Tony was pulling one of his disappearing acts.
See, this is exactly what I didn’t need right now, Dakota thought to herself. It wasn’t that she wanted to be in denial, but she wanted to try to keep from getting upset, and letting negative opinions cloud her thoughts. Besides, every female knows we love our girls until they are talking junk or telling us to leave our man. Then it’s a totally different situation. It was moments like these when she understood how some women say they don’t have female friends. She could see how jealousy, envy, deceit, and all those things could make females distrust one another. She could see how a female telling you your man who deep down you’re hoping you can share a white picket fence with, ain’t worth a darn could make a ch
ick choose the man over the friend. Lucky for Chrasey, that was not the case for Dakota. She and Chrasey, along with their third amigo, Jordan, had been friends since college and they were almost like sisters. Of course, most close friends say that, but these three came the closest to that bond. Most friends say that until they have some really big fight, and then they can’t bring themselves to put it behind them. Or better yet, that’s just the case until they grow apart, or jealousy and competition or another female trait gets the best of them and they decide they are too grown up for that play-sister crap. These three, though, had been through over a decade of real sisterhood, fights included. Not the little fights, either—big fights, fights most people don’t make up from—but in the midst of those fights, if one was going through something like a true sister, the others would still be there for her. So, when Chrasey or Jordan told her something, she knew it was from the heart and one of the reasons she hated listening. The truth can hurt. So she sat there and listened to Chrasey, and she knew deep down that she was right; she was breaking all of her own rules and putting up with even more than she did from Chris.
“Chrasey, it’s just that when things are good, they are so good. Then he goes and pulls something like this and messes it all up.”
“I know, ’Kota…and if it was the first or second time, I would tell you you’re overreacting. But he does this way too often—you can never depend on him. And let me guess—you got all sexy and ready for him, didn’t you?”
“Girl…my favorite teal-and-pink teddy I had been waiting to wear,” Dakota responded. They both giggled.
“Look, ’Kota…you just need to put your foot down. Any time you guys have plans, he feels no obligation to keep them or even call you to cancel. Each time he apologizes, and you step back out there and expect him not to do it again, there is disappointment after disappointment. It’s just out of hand.” As if she was more upset than Dakota, Chrasey rambled on. “Showing up hours late without even calling—you don’t even do that to a hooker, let alone someone you care about. You need to let him go or get serious and let him know that this is the last time. If he does it again, you’re through. I know you two don’t have a commitment, and deep down you know there may be some side pieces somewhere, but he has to know he can’t take you for a fool.”
“Yeah, you’re right. When he does show up, I am going to have a long talk with him.”
After about another ten minutes, Dakota got off the phone and jumped under the covers. After ten seconds on her plush peach pillow, the tears began to roll down her cheeks. She didn’t want to cry. What if he showed up right now? She would look terrible, with bloodshot eyes and a runny nose, and on top of that she was messing up her silk pillow covers. She realized, though, she wasn’t crying because of what Tony was probably out there doing, but because of what Chrasey had said. Just hearing that made her feel really low.
When it came to Tony, she could barely understand herself. It wasn’t like Dakota wasn’t well put together. Dakota was in great shape for her age. She was five-feet-five, 125 pounds, with just enough titties and ass—not too much and not too little. She had a pretty, dark-chocolate complexion, with off-black long hair reaching about a quarter of the way down her back, and brown eyes. Her high cheekbones brought character to her face, but her full lips and slanted eyes were what actually made Dakota beautiful. However, Ms. Dakota Watkins wasn’t all looks—she had brains, too. She was the top publicist at her PR firm, and the youngest female on her level. She had several high-profile clients, was making over $95,000 a year, had a nicely furnished loft in a chic area of Manhattan, drove a 2004 purple BMW, and had what would be considered a great life. Despite all that she had accomplished, her love life overall was still chaotic.
Here she was, letting Tony ruin another Friday night for her. Regardless of how many times she asked herself why, the only answer she could come up with was because she allowed it. Feeling disgusted with herself, for lying in an empty bed wearing lingerie, she finally got up and threw on an oversized night shirt. She took her stereo remote control and hit PLAY. Keyshia Cole’s single, “I Just Want It to Be Over,” seeped from her Bose Wave speakers as she wrapped her hair and got ready for bed. She had just put her Razac Perfect for Perms hair crème away and finished tying a scarf on her head when her phone rang. She wasn’t sure if it was Chrasey calling back, or Tony finally calling.
“Hello.” Dakota tried to use her sexy-yet-upset voice.
“Hey, miss,” a male voice responded from the other end of the phone.
“Who is this?”
“It’s David—you busy?”
David was this “guy friend” of hers. They had been cool for some time; they had worked together a few years ago and never broke contact. A few years back, they’d had a few “indiscretions” between them, but they now had one of those “mature friendships.”
After a few minutes of conversation, he was able to hear in her voice that she wasn’t at her best and offered to come over and cheer her up. She was hesitant at first, but then he offered to come make a late-night meal. Full of emotion, anger, and lust, she accepted his offer. Fully aware that she had no clue if Tony was going to just pop up eventually or not, she left her night shirt on, combed her hair back down, put on some lip gloss, and waited to see who would arrive first.
From She’s No Angel
Chapter 2
“Oh, my goodness!” Jasmine screamed into the phone as Charlene told her the news.
Jasmine was sitting on her couch curled up in her lavender cotton pajamas watching The Office when her phone rang. Two towns over, Charlene was still fully dressed sitting on Isaac’s loveseat with her cell phone, smiling from ear to ear as she shared her breaking news story. Charlene would have died if she hadn’t gotten Jasmine on the phone right away to tell her.
Jasmine was one of Charlene’s closest friends; they’d known eath other since A. B. Gail Junior High School. They had been through a lot together, and they had celebrated and suffered a lot together. Jasmine was twenty-eight years old and she had been married for only a year to her high school sweetheart. Jasmine was one of Charlene’s few childhood friends who had graduated from high school. Since high school Jasmine had been working at clerical jobs to make ends meet, and raising her baby girl, Serenity. Jasmine was also one of the few friends from Charlene’s youth that she still kept in touch with. Jasmine, like Charlene, tried her best to live a better life than they had once had and to become a mature adult woman. They wanted to live a life for the future, and not remain stuck in their past. So, although they were at somewhat different stages in their lives, they always had that understanding and bond with one another. It was the bond of reform; they both knew where they had been and where they were trying to go—or, rather, what they were trying to leave behind.
Charlene and Jasmine had often discussed marriage in their friendship, but it was usually about Jasmine’s, and about Charlene’s belief that hers would never exist. So, without hesitation, Charlene had to call Jasmine to tell her that she was finally one step closer.
“I know, I know…It still feels like I’m dreaming,” Charlene said back.
“How is the ring?” Jasmine asked.
“It’s beautiful…looks like it’s about two or three karats,” Charlene said, holding out her hand to look at the rock Isaac had bestowed upon her.
“Uh-oh…Souky, souky now…” Jasmine said.
“Be quiet,” Charlene replied, blushing. “The ring is designed like a flower with petals; it is the most gorgeous ring I have ever seen,” Charlene said while still staring at her ring.
“Aww, that’s nice. Especially since you love flowers,” Jasmine added.
“Yeah, I know. I’m still kind of in shock.”
“Charlene’s getting married…go ’head, go ’head…” Jasmine started to sing some silly song.
They both laughed. Charlene would have loved to sit and talk about every detail of the night, but she had to rush Jasmine off the phone so she could
tell her family and call one other friend to brag. It wasn’t actually bragging, most of Charlene’s friends were either married or engaged, but she had to let people know she was “validated” as well. Some of it was because at Charlene’s age, when everyone is getting married and engaged, it messes with your self-esteem when your ring finger is still bare. However, some of it was from Charlene’s own low self-esteem. She hadn’t completely become comfortable and stable as the woman of worth she was trying to be. So Isaac hadn’t only made her romantic dreams come true tonight, he helped make her whole. And Charlene was eager to spread the news. As soon as there was a moment of silence she told Jasmine she would call her back because she had to call her mother.
Charlene had kicked off her shoes and buried her feet into the couch in Isaac’s living room. She looked over at the pewter picture frame that held an 8 x 10 picture of the two of them at Great Adventure. She looked over and smiled as she dialed her parents’ house number. Most people would be surprised to find out that Charlene had any esteem issues. She was all of twenty-six years old, and full of youth and energy. She had the body of a runway model: tall and slender with long legs. She was light-skinned with a beautiful face that most people would say was made for television. High cheekbones with naturally rosy cheeks. She was gorgeous and she knew it; her looks got her by a lot in life. Yet with all her beauty, what made her feel like a true woman was sitting there on her hand, her left ring finger, to be exact. So, as she waited for one of her parents to answer, she sat there in Isaac’s living room still glowing with joy.
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