“It’s okay, man. Let it out. We need you.”
“Knock, knock. I hear you guys. I need you too, Roosevelt.”
I recognized that sweet voice, but why was Sindy in my office?
Chaz whispered into my ear, “Stay in here. Get yourself together. Take as much time as you need. I’ll deal with Sindy until you come out.”
“Thanks.”
He closed the door. I sat in his chair. Maybe I should get a gun; my bodyguard might not be enough.
I picked up the TV screen, placed it on Chaz’s desk, then texted the contractor: The screen fell again. Send a replacement now.
This was the last time I was taking out my frustrations on objects. The dreams of drowning in blood still haunted me. When I closed my eyes at night, I struggled to breathe, fought to wake up. No more sleeping at my brother’s condo, fearing Granville would show up at my place. Hopefully, the nightmares would end soon.
I wasn’t going to lose my mind, but at times it felt like it. I took a few deep breaths, then opened the door. Seeing Sindy calmed me. This woman was amazingly gorgeous.
“Hey, you,” she said, giving me a hug. She always greeted me with open arms. I liked that.
“What were you and Madison talking about in the lot?”
Sindy gave me a kiss. “Nothing that matters. You ready?”
Chaz said, “Let me grab my iPad and I’m ready. Numbiya is going to meet us after she finishes with her client.”
“Why don’t we go solo tonight,” I told Chaz. “You can meet your girl and I’ll take Sindy out.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“Cool. No problem,” Chaz said. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I looked at my bodyguard and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow too.”
I had Sindy follow me to my place, park her car, and get into mine. Brennan’s on Smith was an excellent choice. I valet parked. The host right away seated us upstairs. We sat at a table in the corner of the wine room.
“I’ve got it,” I said, pulling out Sindy’s chair. Her back was to the door. Mine was against the wine rack glass-enclosed wall.
“Thanks.” She reached for my hand, then softly asked, “Roosevelt, how are you?”
I wasn’t sure how much she’d seen or heard earlier. She was here with me. That was all that mattered. “I’m good.”
Squeezing my hand, she said, “It’s time for you to be honest with yourself. You’re a good man. You deserve a good woman. But you are not good.”
“I’ll be your waiter for this evening. Would you like to start by sampling one of our finest wines?”
“Yes, anything red, please,” Sindy said.
The waiter left. She gazed into my eyes. “I’m in charge. No questions asked. And I’m staying at your place tonight.”
Suddenly I remembered I’d never gotten my key from Madison. I’d placed Madison’s clothes in a drawer to avoid seeing them in the closet. The Clarisonic on the vanity was my mom’s. She carried those things in her purse all the time and left them like they were disposable. The framed picture of Sindy on my dresser, next to her favorite perfume, would seem strange if she saw it, since she hadn’t given them to me.
“Sindy, I like you. A lot. I don’t want the start of our relationship to be entangled in what’s happening in my personal life.”
“Then what do you want from me?” she asked.
“Right now, I need a friend. One I can trust. One who won’t judge me. I understand if what I require is more than what you have to offer. But friendship is all I can give you or any woman at this moment.”
I had no desire to practice abstinence forever. My dick would happily screw Sindy. I’m sure her pussy was plush, hot, juicy, pretty—all of that and more. Some women were worth the wait. Busting a nut too soon crushed potentially good relationships. There was no recovery from fucking first, if you fucked up shortly thereafter.
The waiter returned. Sindy sampled three wines; then she said, “We’ll have a bottle of the Pinot Noir. We’ll order an appetizer momentarily.”
He nodded. “Of course.”
There were a few couples dining across the quaint room. “Tell me about your ex.”
She shook her head. “You know all you need to know. My father wants me to wed an obnoxious billionaire. I won’t. I’m interested in you.”
“You can have any man you want. Why me?” I asked.
I was worthy of a woman of Sindy’s caliber. When a woman is dropped in a man’s lap, and her beauty exceeds all he’d imagined, he has to question it if she doesn’t get up.
The waiter poured Sindy’s wine first, then mine.
“Thanks,” she told him. Lifting her glass, she said, “Cheers.”
Tipping my glass to hers, I said, “Cheers.”
“Roosevelt.”
I loved the way she said my name. Light. Seductive.
“When a woman chooses the man, check. When a man recognizes he has a real woman, and he chooses that woman, checkmate.” She tapped her glass to mine.
I scanned the menu. “So you play chess?”
“Roosevelt.”
Looking up, I answered, “Yes.”
“The key to winning at the game of love is when the king respects the fact that the queen holds more power.”
When I equated her analogy to life, she made me think how the queen moves freely and the king takes one step at a time. Her point was definitely debatable.
Curious, I said, “Go on.”
Sindy stuck out her tongue, pressed the tip to her glass, and then sipped. “Most men believe they’re a knight in shining armor, but they’ll forever remain a rookie. They pick the wrong woman because they’re not willing to give up their pawns in order to capture a queen.”
I told her, “I like that.”
“Are you hoping the baby is yours?”
Whoa! After all she’d just said, her question was bigger than whatever answer I would give her. I opened my mouth, then closed it.
Sindy smiled, and then she said, “Roosevelt Chicago DuBois, I like you. You are a man worth waiting for. Promise me that if you don’t believe I’m the one, you’ll be honest with me.”
She was definitely a queen. Not a pawn.
I quietly exhaled. I didn’t want what Madison and I had to end. Despite all she’d done, I couldn’t explain why I was still in-love with her. Before viewing the video in court, yes, I prayed I was the father. Seeing my wife screw another man in front of everyone in the courtroom, I did not want Madison’s child to be mine.
Why did Sindy make me comfortable, yet uncomfortable? I told her, “You deserve that much.”
Pushing away from the table, she said, “When you’re over her, and when you’re done patronizing me, let me know. Maybe I’ll still be available.” Sindy left me sitting alone.
What did I say to deserve that?
CHAPTER 42
Granville
Speed dating? What’s that?
Beaux had stopped by unannounced, again. This time he had on a suit and tie. A shoe box, with a gold bow, was in his hand. “Happy birthday, bro.”
It wasn’t my forty-sixth yet. With my new bod, I was getting younger by the day. Prison had taken ten years off me. Guess for me, my stay at FDC was a workout minivacation.
Women introduced themselves, asking, “Are you available?” If I stopped on my way home to get something to eat, they asked, “Mind if I join you?” Where were these females before I fell in love? I had sex with a few of them, but none more than once. Didn’t want them getting attached.
“Thanks for trying. You can stay, but I’m not going out,” I said.
I was lounging in boxers, letting my balls swing freely. I went from being an inmate to a visitor. I hadn’t forgotten about No Chainz. G-double-A proved himself the man. I asked him why his last words about me were “He’ll be back.”
“You needed a reality dose. And you damn sure didn’t need both of us telling you the same
thing. I knew you were going to walk,” he said. From misdemeanors to felonies, he was making a lot more money in the pen helping guys who were representing themselves.
None had won their cases. Guess I was the lucky one. Since I was acquitted, I didn’t have a record. I’d gotten another construction job, making six figures for real. This time I wasn’t lying. Every week for No Chainz, I padded his books with a C-note, and I accepted collect calls from both of them. No Chainz would be out in a month, in time to celebrate his twenty-first birthday. I was getting his ass lit all day. The only thing I wouldn’t do was the request from G-double-A to sneak him ten cell phones. Why would he ask me to do that?
“What the hell?” Beaux said, staring at the wrapped boxes in my living room. He placed the shoe box on my coffee table. “It’s not Christmas yet, bro. What’s all of this shit? Damn, it’s not even Halloween. And I know no one sent you gifts.”
He was right. No birthday, Halloween, or Christmas gifts were in those packages. Spending my cash on clubs and women wasn’t happening either. In between screwing strangers, Precious came over to empty my sacs when they got too heavy, but I didn’t do anything special for her. She could stop doing me whenever she got tired. It didn’t matter. She didn’t matter.
I splurged a little on myself. I loved, and was not giving up, my brew. I enjoyed a few beers every night and a few extra on weekends. That was it.
Inside the three boxes were a playpen, a car seat, and a stroller. It was close to that time. Madison probably wanted to pick out the crib, but next week I was getting her a walker and some other stuff. She didn’t need a baby shower. She had me to make it rain on her and the baby.
Picking at the paper, Beaux asked, “What is it?”
“Don’t touch that!” I wished he wouldn’t be nosy. “It’s some things for Mom,” I lied.
Our mother was struggling to survive. Her health was going down quickly, but she refused to move to Houston and live with Beaux or me. She wanted to spend her last days in the house our dad had died in, in Port Arthur. Her sister—the mean one who hadn’t spoken to our mother in years—was at the house taking care of Mom. She probably wanted to be the first to get whatever she wanted out of the home. The doctor had given Mom two weeks, so we were going to see her this weekend. We’d planned a huge barbeque and seafood boil. All of Port Arthur was invited.
“Liar,” Beaux said.
I’d saved six grand for my kid and Madison. I didn’t have as much as the dudes she’d dated, but I was working on it. Child support wasn’t going to be necessary. When we brought the baby home, we’d make space at my one-bedroom penthouse apartment, or I’d move-in with Madison.
Her photos were on my nightstand. Madison’s sweet, creamy praline face was the first one I saw in the morning, and the last one I kissed at night. I’d found this place online where they could take any pictures and make wallpaper. Six rolls with Madison on them were in the back of my closet. Since I wasn’t sure where I was going to live, once my baby arrived, I’d wait to decorate.
“Put on one of those suits, your favorite cowboy boots and hat, bro. We have cause to celebrate. You have to get out of the house. Madison is not your woman, and she’s never going to be yours. She’s not pregnant with your baby. Move on with your life before you end up—”
“Shut up!” I curled my fingers tightly.
That wasn’t true. The baby was mine. My dick was so big and long—my sperm didn’t have to swim far to penetrate her egg. I thought about how tight Madison was. Her pussy had snatched off my condom. It was destiny. We were meant to be.
“If I go to this thing, I just want to meet a girl and fuck. No headaches. Just head banging. Mine inside of her. Hers against the headboard. I want to come and go,” I said. “Let’s hit the strip joints. Or get tickets to the football game tomorrow.”
“No!” Beaux jumped up. “You trying to get locked up before we go see Mom.” He hit me in the jaw and pinned me to the floor. “You cannot go to a football game while Chicago is GM. Where’s your gun?”
I pushed him in the air, rolled from under him, then stood. “I don’t have a gun,” I lied.
Beaux shook his head, then straightened his shirt. “You’re lying. If your dumb ass goes back to prison, I’m disowning you.”
He didn’t own me. He said some dumb stuff, but he wasn’t stupid. I’d gotten a lot stronger than him. That would probably be the last fight he’d start.
What if Chicago wanted revenge? He was the one running around with a personal bodyguard. I wasn’t going to do anything to him. He had his new woman and I had mine back.
“Speed dating is where we’re going. I’m getting you fucked up and laid. Wash your ass and get dressed.”
Beaux grabbed a cold beer from my refrigerator, picked up the remote, and then sat on my sofa. I was not excited. Staying at home kept me out of trouble.
“What’s in the shoe box?” I asked.
“If I can’t touch your shit, don’t touch mine.”
“All right.” I went to my bathroom.
I shaved my head and my mustache; then I got in the shower, which was over the small tub. There wasn’t enough space for me to bathe. I recalled soaking in Madison’s Jacuzzi. Yeah, I’d have to move into her place, but I was paying the mortgage.
Lathering up, I thought my new bod was irresistible. A thousand sit-ups and push-ups every day were still the norm. I never wanted to lose my sexy. Not feeling lucky today, I didn’t put on the power suit Beaux got me for my verdict day. I was saving that super one for my wedding, or maybe for Mom’s funeral. I let the shower wash away my tears.
No way I was wasting dollars on a big ceremony or funeral. A plain burial for Mom, and a nice, short honeymoon to Lake Charles with Madison would be romantic. We’d have to take the baby, of course. I looked at my jeans.
“Suit and boots,” Beaux shouted from the living room.
“Fine!”
Buttoning up a black shirt, I put on the gray slacks and jacket with my black gators and grabbed my hat. “Almost forgot.” I sat my hat on the bed, poured cologne in my hands, and then slapped my face and head.
When I stepped into the living room, Beaux had dozed off. I could go in my bedroom, throw all of this on the floor, and go to sleep too. I reached for his shoe box.
He sprang into a sitting position. “What did I say?” He picked up the box. Opened it.
My jaw dropped. “Is that what I think it is?” I asked, staring at the gun.
He nodded.
I kept staring at this gun inside a plastic bag inside a box. “How? How do you know for sure?”
“Don’t worry about that. When Mom dies, we’re putting this gun in the bottom of her casket and burying it with her. She wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Mom knows?”
“Of course not. She still thinks you’re innocent, and that’s how we’re going to let her leave here.”
My brother had done this for me. Rubbing my head, I said, “You do know I can’t be retried for the same charges. You might be setting yourself up if we get caught. You’ve got to tell me how you got this gun.”
Beaux stared at me.
“Never mind,” I said. If I had to testify on his behalf, I didn’t want to lie on the witness stand and end up behind bars like Loretta.
Beaux clapped his hands once, then said, “Let’s rock and roll.” He stood tall. “You look like money, bro. The women are going to be all over you.”
CHAPTER 43
Loretta
Lesbian? Me?
The restaurant in Sugar Land was filled with men and women. I’d come here after work with the intention of escaping my part of town, having a few drinks, and opening myself up to meeting a female. Waiting for the Long Island ice tea to give me the courage to move from this table to the bar, I sat alone.
A tall, thin woman, with short, dark hair, came over. She was attractive, but I couldn’t see myself in a relationship with her. She wasn’t my waitress. Certainly wasn’t dre
ssed as though she worked here. Since she approached me, I decided to let her initiate the conversation.
“Would you like to sign up?” she asked.
“For what?”
Placing an iPad on the table, she asked, “What’s your age?”
“Thirty-five,” I said, glancing around the room. People seemed very friendly with one another, as though they were already familiar. “Is there a private party going on?”
“Not at all. Great!” she chirped. “The age range tonight is thirty-five to forty-five. We’re having a singles mixer. Ever done speed dating?” she asked.
I’d heard about it. Saw posts on Facebook for events in Houston. To me, these gatherings were just another word for “booty call.” I could open myself to having sex with a stranger. Why not? The Lord knew my needs.
“No, but what the hell. I’ve heard about it. Sign me up.” Maybe I’d meet a man I liked so I could dismiss these weird feelings I have for Madison.
“We’ll start in fifteen minutes. What’s your name?”
“Loretta.” Soon as I’d given her my real name, I wished I’d lied and told her, “Brenda” or “Carmen.”
“Great, Loretta. You stay here. The men will come to you. You have ten minutes to ask and answer questions. If you meet a man you like, you’ll have more time to mingle with him after the speed-dating part is over. Cheers!” she said, whisking away.
My cell rang. I looked at the screen, debating on whether I should answer. Before it went to voice mail, I said, “Hey, Tisha.”
“Hi, Loretta. Look, I can’t take a friendship feud among Madison, you, and me. Madison already agreed. I’m inviting you to my house tonight so we can talk this out.”
My heart raced. I could use the opportunity to come out to them. Or I could stay here. “What time? I’m in Sugar Land.”
“Whenever you get here is okay. What time is good for you?”
The event was starting. Speaking into my Bluetooth, I looked at my phone. “I’ll be there in two.” I paused. There was a pair of cowboy boots firmly planted to the floor. A man with a cowboy hat sat at my table, with his head down. He smelled good. My pussy puckered. “Make that three hours.”
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