My Woman His Wife Saga
Page 9
“I told you to stop calling here!” Sheila said sharply through the phone. Monica was getting on her last nerve, and she had already hung the phone up twice on her. Something Monica said made Sheila freeze up. She was holding the phone tightly to her ear, tears streaming down her face.
Jasmine touched her shoulder to let her know she was standing there, and that she was starting to get weird looks from the other workers in the office. Sheila held up one finger to indicate she was almost done with her conversation, and she wanted to talk to her.
“I’ll meet you there, but this is the last time,” she said to Monica on the phone.
“Be there or else,” Monica said then hung up.
Sheila placed the phone back on the hook slowly and followed Jasmine back into her office. After twenty minutes of convincing Jasmine that she would be okay, Jasmine recommended that she take some time off to get herself together. She informed Sheila of the procedures for a sick and a personal leave, and told her to let her know what she would do by the next day.
“I’m just looking out for you,” Jasmine said while offering Sheila more tissue for her never-ending tears.
“I know, and I really appreciate it. If you could get the paper work for me, I’ll come in tomorrow and fill it out so you can put it through.” Not that Sheila wanted to leave work, but Monica was too much to handle emotionally and physically, and if any shit went down between Monica and Jasmine’s husband, she didn’t want to be there for it.
“No problem, just go on home. I’ll get one of the temps to do the subpoenas for me and we’ll talk tonight, okay?”
“Okay,” Sheila responded after giving Jasmine a hug.
Sheila gathered her stuff and followed Jasmine out to the elevator. On the way down to the street level, Jasmine offered her a ride to wherever she needed to go.
“That’s okay,” Sheila said. “You’ve already been a big help.”
“Just let me know if you need anything.”
“I will.”
As the elevator doors opened, Sheila tried to quickly step through them and managed to bump her right arm against the door. She winced and dropped the folder she was carrying. The photos Monica sent her scattered across the floor.
Both women bent down at the same time to pick them up, but before Jasmine had a chance to put her hand on one Sheila scooped them all up in a big pile. Jasmine peeped a few, but not close enough to notice her husband in any of them. Jasmine handed Sheila the hat she dropped.
“You sure you don’t need a ride?” Jasmine asked one last time.
Sheila pulled the folder close to her chest. “Yeah,” she muttered. “I’ll just take the bus.” She waved, turned, and walked off.
By the time Sheila got to Monica’s house, she was a nervous wreck. She opted to take the bus over there for two reasons. One because she needed time to clear her head; she had to put Monica in her place, or at least try to. She was determined to make Monica understand that she wanted no parts of the bullshit she was brewing up and that she wanted to be left out of the entire situation. The second reason she caught the bus was because she knew Jasmine and Monica were cool—not exactly how cool they were—but she knew they were friends and she didn’t want Jasmine to know she was chillin’ with Monica like that.
Walking up the block slowly, Sheila made her way to the only pink house on the block. Monica’s house stood out, seeming to make the neighborhood look a little brighter. Approaching the door, she raised her hand to knock. Monica swung the door open before Sheila’s fist could make contact with the wood, and she accidentally punched Monica in the mouth. Monica immediately covered her mouth with both hands, caught off guard by the blow. She knew it was an accident by the look on Sheila’s face, but she snapped anyway.
“Monica, I’m so sorry.” Sheila reached out to hold Monica’s face, but Monica stepped back. The hit wasn’t as hard as Monica was making it out to be, but being the drama queen that she was, she milked it for all it was worth.
Instead of answering, she just turned around and went toward the kitchen to get some ice for the non-existent swelling she thought would take place. Sheila was so close on her heels that when Monica stopped suddenly Sheila bumped into her, causing the back of Monica’s house shoe to flop off. Trying to keep her cool, Monica kicked the shoe off and continued to the freezer to get the ice. Sheila waited silently at the kitchen table for Monica to wrap her ice in a towel, put on the house shoes that were by the back door, and examine the back of her foot.
“Monica, I’m so sor—”
“Bitch, just be quiet! You done just about worked my last nerve, and you ain’t been here that long. Fall back!”
That shut Sheila’s ass right up. Monica was a tad on the demanding side, but she’d never talked to her in that tone before. Sheila wanted to say something, but for reasons even she didn’t understand, Monica scared the hell out of her. Even if she wasn’t scared, she couldn’t think of a snappy comeback in time anyway, so she did as she was told and fell back. After about five minutes of silence and Monica giving her dirty looks, she finally joined Sheila at the table and got down to why Sheila was there in the first place.
“I need you to help me out with something,” Monica began in a matter-of-fact tone like she dared Sheila to say she wouldn’t do it.
“What is it?” Sheila did not feel like the Monica drama, but she figured if she just agreed to do whatever she wanted, she could leave and not hear from her again.
“James keeps asking about you, and he wants to know if you’re down with a threesome. I told him you would do it,” Monica closely watched Sheila’s reaction.
Monica had spoken to James about a threesome when she was at his house the night before, but he said he didn’t want anything to do with it. Since she stopped by his house that day, she had to find some way to have sex with him again if this pregnancy thing was going to work. She had taken two pregnancy tests so far and both came up positive, but she wanted to be one hundred percent sure before she visited her gynecologist.
“I’m not getting into that with you. Find someone else; you know his wife is my boss,” Sheila said with her arms folded across her chest. For the first time, Sheila was seeing just how crazy and deranged Monica really was.
Monica came around the table and stood close to Sheila. She bent down so that the two were face to face.
“You’ll do it,” she whispered, “because if you don’t, every step you take I’ll be right in your ass. Trust and believe that life for you will be nothing wonderful when I’m done with you.”
“Monica, what are you going to do? So what you sent pictures to the job? Your bedroom is in the background, and they weren’t even clear shots,” Sheila responded, feeling confident all of a sudden. She tried to play the same role Monica was playing and hoped that Monica would be somewhat intimidated.
“Dear Sheila, a lot of shit has changed,” Monica said while walking circles around the table. Her facial expression seemed to turn sinister.
“The photos I sent you were that way because I knew you would underestimate me. I have photos of you giving him head and everything. I can take your picture and put it anywhere I choose—even e-mail them to Jazz if I wanted to take it to that level. How much of a job will you have then?”
Trying to hold her ground, but close to breaking down, Sheila was determined not to be a part of the nonsense. Jasmine was looking out for her in a major way even though she already violated her by sleeping with her husband. She couldn’t bring herself to cross Jasmine again, and was damn near about to cry. She couldn’t understand how Monica could act the way she did and not care about the lives of the people she was hurting.
Monica took her seat across from Sheila and waited for her to reply. In Monica’s mind she couldn’t take it far enough to get Jasmine. She wanted her as much as she wanted her next breath, and she was determined to have her by any means necessary. Sheila would be the perfect source to get Jasmine to leave James, and she figured she would have James’s
child so they could both have him in common. Sick and twisted? Yes, but she didn’t care and was getting fed up because it was taking too long to get what she wanted.
“How do you plan to get James to come by? He’s obviously happy at home. Jasmine came in the office today looking like he put some serious work in this morning,” Sheila said hoping to throw Monica off.
Monica almost laughed. “You let me worry about that,” she said, smirking. “Just be ready when I set up the meeting. I’ll call you the day before. Now leave, your presence is making me feel sick.”
Sheila wanted to grip Monica’s ass up, but she decided it wasn’t worth it. Monica could call until the cows came home. Sheila would be changing her phone number the very next day, and would be staying at her mom’s house during her leave of absence from work. Monica was crazy, and Sheila decided to let her be crazy all by herself. Not wanting to reveal how she would pull off her disappearing act, Sheila readied herself to leave.
“I need a ride home,” Sheila said to Monica on her way to the door.
“There’s money on the table in the living room. Call a cab, and wait outside for it. I want you gone before I start getting pissed.”
Sheila just gave Monica a look like she couldn’t believe how she was acting and walked away. In the living room Sheila found about two hundred dollars sitting on the table next to receipts from Neiman Marcus and Strawbridge’s. It only cost about seven dollars for her to get home, but Sheila opted to take the whole two hundred. Instead of calling a cab, she walked until she found one. Calling her sister over to help her with her son once she got home, she gave her sister half the money to tell Monica she wasn’t there no matter how many times she called. Sheila knew getting away from Monica wouldn’t be easy, and she needed her sister there just in case she needed backup.
Before morning, Monica was ringing Sheila’s phone off the hook. Sheila didn’t think she would be calling that soon, but she did take her money and instantly regretted it. Between Monica’s calls she called the phone company, but it was after hours, and she would have to wait until nine the next day to do anything.
Sheila told her sister as much as she could without incriminating herself, and her sister decided that she didn’t care how many times Monica called, she would have to get over it and move on.
“Hello, can I speak with Sheila?” Monica asked in her sweetest voice. She was calling to set up some time with Sheila for the next night, hoping she could get her to help persuade James into having the threesome.
“She’s not available, can I take a message?” Sheila’s sister replied just as nicely. She knew it was Monica from her calling the house before, and whatever reason her sister had for not wanting to talk to her was a good enough reason for her not to like her. There was something about Monica that she couldn’t place her finger on, but she knew it wasn’t good.
“What do you mean she’s not there? I suggest you find out where she is and have her call me back!” Monica screamed into the phone, frustration wrinkling her brow already.
“Excuse me?” Sheila’s sister had to look at the phone to make sure she heard right.
“I said Sheila needs to be contacted ASAP,” Monica came back with even more attitude. She didn’t know who the girl was on the other end, but she did know she didn’t want to talk to her.
“You need to get a better attitude before calling someone’s house!” she said and hung up.
Monica was pissed. She almost dropped her phone in the tub she was so mad, and she slipped while she was getting out, damn near breaking her ankle. She didn’t know who answered the phone at Sheila’s house, but she didn’t play those games and would be over there in a flash if Sheila didn’t answer the phone.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she dialed Sheila’s number again, and this time she was ready. Sheila didn’t know who she was dealing with, and Monica would make her life a living hell if she didn’t act right. The phone rang ten times before Sheila’s sister answered again.
“Put Sheila on the phone!” Monica demanded from the other end.
“Bitch, please! When you learn some manners, call back,” and she hung up again.
This was just pissing Monica off more, and it took a lot for her not to go over to the house and snatch this woman up. Dialing the number one more time, she decided that if Sheila didn’t get the phone, her life would be hell from there on out.
From Crazy To Insane
Three weeks had gone by, and Monica still hadn’t heard a word from Sheila. When she called the office, a temporary assistant answered the phone, informing her that Sheila was on an indefinite leave of absence. Monica had been trying to keep her cool, but this was the last straw. Getting dressed in a sweat suit and sneakers and pulling her hair back into a ponytail just in case she had to whip someone’s ass, she got in her car and raced over to Sheila’s apartment to see what the problem was.
Double-parking her car in front of the building and not giving a damn that she was holding up traffic on a busy intersection early on a Saturday afternoon, she took the stairs two at a time all the way up to Sheila’s third floor apartment. Knocking turned to practically trying to break the door down as Monica screamed and hollered for Sheila to show her face. She figured Sheila was inside hiding from her.
Monica was making so much noise in the hallway that Sheila’s neighbors started to come out in the hall to see what all the ruckus was about. After all, Sheila didn’t exactly live in the ghetto, and it was normally quiet in the overpriced, working class renters’ apartment building. Monica kicked and banged on the door for a half hour, thinking Sheila would come out eventually. She was so into it that she didn’t see one of Sheila’s neighbors walking toward her.
“Ma’am . . . Ma’am, are you looking for someone?”
Monica turned around to stare at the elderly Caucasian guy standing a few feet from her. Almost doubling over in laughter, she tried to control her smile as she stared at him. He reminded her of the cartoon character named Mr. Burns off The Simpson’s television show, teeth and all.
“Would I be banging on this door like a madwoman if I weren’t looking for someone?” Monica asked, her smile disappearing. After thirty minutes of kicking and banging, she decided if Sheila hadn’t come to the door by now, she wouldn’t be.
“Well, Ma’am,” the senior citizen responded like he was getting an attitude, “it’s just that you’re making a lot of noise, and some of us are trying to sleep.”
“Does this look like the face of someone who gives a fuck?” she asked him, looking him dead in his eyes. “I’m not here for you, so take your old wrinkled ass back to your apartment before you write a check your half rich ass can’t cash.”
“Your attitude is not necessary, young lady. I was just simply stating . . .”
“Simply stating what?” Monica replied, approaching the elderly man like she was going to strike him.
“That you need to take that hood shit back to the hood; this is a peaceful building and . . .”
“Old man, save it! I do what I want when I’m ready. What are you going to do to stop me?”
“I . . . I’m going to call the police,” Sheila’s neighbor responded, taken aback by what Monica said.
“Yeah, you do that. I’ll be waiting right here for them,” Monica shouted at his turned back as he shuffled down the hallway and into his apartment.
She could hear him making the call to the police department and perched her tired body into one of the chairs to wait for the cops to get there.
Not even ten minutes later, who but Officer Hill and Monica’s other favorite officer of the law, Officer Collins, came strolling up the hallway to investigate the situation. Looking at Monica like he wasn’t sure if he knew her, Officer Hill proceeded to knock on the neighbor’s door to see what happened.
“Someone report a disturbance?” he asked the frail old man. He looked visibly shaken, and was afraid to step foot into the hall.
“Yes, that woman right there,” he said point
ing at Monica, “was making all kinds of noise and threatened me when I asked her to stop.” Monica just sat there with a smirk on her face.
“Ma’am, is this true?” Officer Hill responded, taking a closer look at Monica. As he got closer to her, he recognized her and smiled in spite of the situation.
“No, Officer, it isn’t. I’m just waiting for my sister to get home. This guy seems to get nervous around black people or something,” she replied, smiling seductively at the cop. He remembered the night they spent together and started blushing.
“That’s a lie!” the elderly man spat out between his dentures. “She was kicking the door and everything. Look at it, you can still see her footprints on it.” Everyone looked at the door at the same time, and there were scuff marks on the bottom half of it. Monica just laughed softly to herself.
“Officer, those marks were on that door when I got here. My sister was supposed to meet me here, and I’ve been waiting for her for about ten minutes. That’s my car double-parked out front. I haven’t been here for that long.” Staring at Monica’s breasts and not really paying attention, Officer Hill didn’t hear much of what she said.
“Sir, do you have any witnesses?” Officer Collins asked the man, reluctantly turning his gaze away from Monica.
“This is ridiculous,” the neighbor said. “What do you have to do to get a good cop nowadays?” Without looking back, he walked into his apartment and slammed the door. Monica and Officer Hill stood in the hallway looking at each other and smiling. Monica was hoping they would just leave, but she was sure it wouldn’t go down that way.
“And for the record,” the Mr. Burns look-a-like said inching his door back open, “this is a quiet building. Take all of that ruckus back to your hood,” he hollered before giving the door one final slam, clicking the locks loudly.
Both law enforcers turned to face Monica. Officer Collins couldn’t even look at Monica for fear that he might snatch her up. He had dealt with her for only a short time, and she had managed to almost destroy his marriage. He too fell for the Jedi Pussy Trick, falling head over heels for the sexy vixen with amazing control of her vaginal walls.