by Carl Weber
Loraine
9
“Are they here?” I tried to keep my excitement down as Jerome walked into my office. I’d been expecting some very important people for a two o’clock meeting, and it was ten after when he walked in.
Jerome didn’t answer me at first. He just closed the door behind him with his head hanging low. I didn’t like the way he was acting at all, because his body language had bad news written all over it. I just hoped and prayed it didn’t have anything to do with my two o’clock meeting.
“Okay, spill it. What’s wrong?”
“I just got a call from Ms. Jericho’s office. The meeting’s been canceled. They’ve decided to back someone else. I’m sorry, Loraine.”
I ran my hand through my hair as I tried to comprehend why they would cancel a meeting that they’d asked for. Had I done something wrong? Was this whole thing some sick joke to play with my emotions? Dammit! I slammed my hand down on my desk.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. I been kissing these women’s asses for over two years.” If anyone else had been in the room, I would not have shown this much emotion, but Jerome was my rock, my best friend, my confidant, and my right-hand man all rolled into one. “How the fuck can they do this to me?”
“They didn’t.” Jerome laughed. “I was just playing with you. They’re in reception.”
“Ooooh, Jerome, I’m going to kill you.” I pointed my finger at him, looking evil but feeling relieved. “That wasn’t funny. You almost made me cry.”
“Sorry, I just couldn’t help it. You’ve had a stick up your ass all week, waiting for these people to give you what you deserve. I had to have some fun with it.”
“That’s not fun. What you did was cruel. This is important to me.”
“I can see that. Don’t worry. You’re gonna knock ‘em dead.” He winked at me.
“How do I look?” I chewed nervously on my bottom lip.
“Seriously? You need to put on a little blush.” Jerome gave me a pointed look, lifting his eyebrows. “Stop chewing your lip. You know how dry they get. Oh, and put on some lipstick too.”
I straightened the lapels of my pink suit, reached into my purse, and pulled out my compact. I patted makeup over my face and used a little beige concealer to cover the circles under my eyes. I lined my lips, then put on a neutral-colored lipstick. I slid on my Sarah Palin eyeglasses, then turned to Jerome for his inspection. He nodded his head in approval.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about. Go get ‘em, girl,” Jerome whispered, making a circle with his right thumb and index finger.
“Well, then, let’s get this show on the road.” I spun my desk chair toward the door. “You can show them in now.”
While I was waiting, I contemplated how I got to this point, something I did before any serious meeting or decision. I thought about my life. I’d started my own public relations firm at the age of twenty-nine, with the help of Jerome. We’d gone through good times and bad together, and our company was still running strong. Jerome had been there for me in lots of ways, including accompanying me to events that my own husband—who only wanted to watch TV, play golf, or look for the next get-rich-quick scheme—was never interested in attending. Sometimes it felt like if it weren’t for Jerome, I would not have any social life at all. Jerome had it going on. Sometimes it was as if I were living my life through his life, since my personal life was so boring.
But all that was about to change. I straightened up my face and put on my professional façade as Linda Brooks, Leigh Seabrooks, Nancy Jericho, and Kim Garner walked into my office. They were all high-powered members of my sorority. My sorors, as I liked to call them.
After a round of pleasantries, I said, “Have a seat, ladies. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” Of course, I knew what the meeting was about, but it wasn’t the type of thing you admit to until it was formally put on the table.
Nancy Jericho spoke up first. She and Kim Garner were the state presidents for the sorority in Virginia and Maryland, respectfully. “You’ve been on the national board in the past and held state office twice. You really made an impact during your tenure.”
“Thank you. We all must do our part.” Suddenly my intercom buzzed. I hit the button, and Jerome’s voice came through the speaker.
“You have Mariah Carey on line one.”
I pressed another button and said, “Tell Mariah I’ll call her back later.”
“You also have Usher’s PR people on line two—must be damage control about that divorce.”
“Tell his people I’ll get back with them. And hold all my calls until my two o’clock is finished.”
I spun back around in the chair to face my visitors. I could see they were impressed; I was too. I wish I had Mariah Carey and Usher as clients. That Jerome was always playing games; although, from the looks on my visitors’ faces, it may have actually helped.
“I’ve been following your career for some time,” Kim spoke up. “You’ve been voted businesswoman of the year for the past two years.”
“You’re just the type of leader we need,” Leigh added.
“For what?”
“Well, let’s just say quite a few members of the sorority have their eye on you. You’re on a short list of people we want to run for national president.” Linda sounded excited.
“We need new blood in there, Loraine, young blood,” Nancy stated.
“Now, I’m not one to talk about my sorors, but the average age of the board is seventy,” Kim added.
“I—we—know you can do the job, Loraine,” Leigh said.
“Well, I’m honored.” I was all smiles. “Tell me more. Wait, let me order coffee. Coffee, anyone?”
All three women nodded.
I turned and buzzed Jerome on the intercom. “Jerome, please have your secretary bring in coffee and some refreshments for my guests.”
“I’m on it,” Jerome replied. I cut off the intercom. In business with Jerome, I gave orders, he didn’t question them, and I didn’t often say thanks. He was on a job—a six-figure job at that—so when it came to work, he was my girl Friday.
“I’m flattered, but you’ve got to tell me more.”
All three looked at me approvingly. I could feel their sincere respect for me as a woman who was capable of getting the job done. But as they talked about the pros and cons of running for office, my mind wandered to my marriage. If these people only knew what my home life was like.
I cleared my throat. “Well, I’ve got to discuss this with my husband.”
“That’s right,” Leigh commented. “We wouldn’t want something like this to come between you and your husband.”
“I’m sure he’s a secure man to be able to live with such a dynamo like you,” Nancy commented, trying to feel me out.
I’ve never liked how women are always trying to check out your relationship with your husband. But they were barking up the wrong tree if they thought I was going to tell them anything different about my marriage. I was so good at doing PR, I knew just how to paint a pretty picture of a marriage. “Leon is the greatest. He always wants what’s best for me, and he loves to see me shine.”
“Well, then I’m sure he won’t have any problem with you running for our national president.”
I smiled, hoping they were right and that Leon wouldn’t have a problem with it. All I needed was one more thing for us to fight about.
Isis
10
I climbed up the stairs, a breakfast tray in hand. Plenty of times I wished I was the lady of the house, and today I was enjoying the next best thing—I was playing lady of the house while my sister was gone. Since I couldn’t lay up in the house with Rashad, I had the next best thing—Tony, who was visiting for the weekend. He’d managed to sneak away from his wife, feeding her some cock-and-bull story about having a conference to attend. Too bad he had to lie to her, but he’d been lying to me for years. I was elated.
“Hey, baby,” I cooed as I put the breakfast tra
y over Tony’s sheet-clad nakedness. “I made you breakfast—your favorite.”
Tony surveyed the tray, grinning. “Eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, fresh-squeezed orange juice, and coffee. I could get used to this.”
“So could I! That was some good lovin’ you gave me last night, baby.”
Goodness gracious, if my sister had any inkling I had Tony laid up in her bed, screwing him like there was no tomorrow on her expensive silk sheets, she’d kill me. But to be perfectly honest, that just made the whole thing that much sexier.
“You like the way I put it on you last night, huh? Well, there’s more where that came from,” he teased, slapping my ass under my sheer negligee. I got moist right away. It reminded me of when I lived in New York, and Tony and I would role-play that he was a burglar who had broken into my apartment. He would tie me up and spank me until I told him where my valuables were. I’d always end up confessing that they were inside my panties, and he’d have to take them off to get them.
“Promises, promises. What I got last night was a ten on the Richter scale. I don’t think anyone could perform that good two nights in a row.”
“Oh, you doubt me?” His face said what his mouth didn’t: He was up for the challenge.
“Eat your food and let’s find out.”
He picked up his fork with a smirk. “You do realize that when I finish this, it’s about to be on?”
“So, hurry up and eat. I’m about to start without you.” I lay on the bed next to him, hiking up my nightie. I closed my eyes and moved my right hand to my eagerly awaiting pussy. Sliding my fingertips over my wet lips to moisten them, I began to rub my clit gently. It felt so good I let out a moan. I could hear Tony trying his best to wolf down his food. Even though he was eating, I was sure he was watching my every move. He loved it when I masturbated in front of him.
I decided to mess with him. “Oh, damn. I’m so wet, I’m gushing. I just need something to fill me up.” I slid a finger inside myself, and the next thing I knew, I heard a loud crash that scared the crap out of me.
I opened my eyes to see the tray of food all over the floor. Tony had the sheets pulled back, totally exposing his nakedness. His erection was pointing at me like a Viking sword. Before I knew it, we were making love for the umpteenth time since he’d gotten there. He was thrusting his penis inside, sending me over the top again and again.
“That’s it, Tony. Give it to me,” I hollered as he exploded inside of me. “Oooh, baby, make me a momma! I wanna have your child!”
“Huh, have my child?” Tony pulled out of me faster than if I’d just told him I had gonorrhea. “What are you talking about?” He looked down in my face.
“I wanna have your baby.” There. I’d said it.
“Where the hell is this coming from?” He rolled off of me.
“It’s always been there. I just figured we’d get married first—oops, that’s right, you’re already married. So I guess I’ll have to have my baby out of wedlock.” Yes, I said it, and I did have an attitude.
“What if I don’t want a baby?” He had the nerve to have an attitude too.
“Oh, so you don’t want me to have your baby? Why not?” I sat up. “Hmmph. So, I’m good enough to fuck but not good enough to have your child. Is that right?”
Tony reached down to his dripping penis as if he wanted to pull his sperm back up in it. “This ain’t cool, Isis. It’s not cool at all. You know I’m married.”
“I didn’t hear you hollering about being married just now when you was all up in me, raw dog, busting a nut. I thought you said you love me.”
“I do, but—”
I cut him off. “But what? You want your cake and eat it too? It’s not that easy.”
“No, but my wife will take me for everything I’ve got if you come up pregnant.”
“She ain’t got to know. I’ve accepted that I’m the other woman, Tony. You just have to keep treating me like I’m not.”
“I ain’t trying to have no more kids, Isis. My kids are older—finally. I’m glad to be through with diapers and bottles.” He groaned in disgust. “No way will I go back down that road.”
“But you love kids. You’re always talking about your kids. Besides, if I have a baby, then me and you can be together like we planned. I’m glad I stopped taking those pills.”
“Wait a minute. Don’t tell me you stopped taking the Pill.”
I couldn’t lie. I didn’t answer, though. I guess the look on my face said it all.
“Aw, shit! I knew I shoulda stopped fucking with this crazy bitch.” Tony started talking to himself as if I wasn’t even in the room.
I didn’t pay his crazy comment any mind. I just looked at him and said, “Time to man up, Tony. Either you love me or you don’t. Either way, if I’m pregnant, I’m having your baby.”
Tony hit the palm of his hand with his fist. “This is some bullshit, Isis. Some real underhanded bullshit.”
“Like the shit you’ve done to me over the years isn’t some bull? You fucked me up so bad I’m living with my sister and my ex. I lost a good damn job because I lost my mind over you and your lies. So if you want to talk about underhanded, look in the fucking mirror.”
I watched him get up and slip the sheet around himself. He ran to the shower, and the next thing I knew, he was dressed and down the stairs.
“Tony, I love you.” I followed him to the front door. “We can do this. We can raise this baby.”
Just as the words fell out of my mouth, I looked up the walkway and saw an irate-looking Egypt and Rashad stalking toward me. They’d come home early. Tony flew by them without a word, his overnight bag clutched in his hand.
“Isis, what is going on?” Egypt called out. I saw Rashad looking mad, but I didn’t care what they said.
I ran upstairs, locked my bedroom door, and put my legs up against the wall to make sure that none of Tony’s sperm escaped out of me.
Jerome
11
“You did what?” I almost dropped the phone. I was so surprised at what I’d just heard. “Can you repeat that, please?”
“I told my wife I was gay and that I was leaving her for a black man,” Peter, my little George Clooney look-alike, said to me.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Peter.”
“Why not?” he asked adamantly. “I can’t lie about who I am anymore or how I feel. For the first time in my life, I feel alive.”
“Yeah, but leaving your wife? She’ll take you to the cleaners.”
“I don’t care. She can have it. I just want to be with you. I think we can have a life together.”
Oh, boy, here we go again. You know, if I could bottle these lips and sell them, I’d make a million dollars. No, I’d make ten million dollars, ‘cause these dudes be losing their minds when I suck their dick. Whatever happened to never let ‘em see you sweat?
“Look, I’ve been having a good time with you. And I really appreciate the diamond bracelet you bought me last week, but I never said anything about us being exclusive.”
“But I’m falling in love with you. I never felt like this about anybody before. Just give me a chance. I know I can make you happy.”
Now, this is why I never had people other than Big Poppa come by the crib. Never knew when one of them would get too attached and cross over the line to stalker status.
“Look, Peter, no offense, but the feeling’s not mutual. I like you, but I’m nowhere near in love with you. I’m not even sure I know what love is.”
“You can learn to love me. For now, I have enough love for both of us.”
Damn, this guy just didn’t understand the meaning of “it ain’t gonna happen.”
I tried to reason with him. “You need to take a deep breath. I think you’re confusing good sex with love.”
“I don’t think you’re taking me serious, Jerome. I didn’t come out of the closet because I was confused. I came out because I’m in love, and I won’t take no for an answer.”
“L
isten, I can’t have this conversation now. I’m with some people. Let’s talk about this some other time.” I closed the phone without even waiting for him to respond. This dude was gonna be a problem; I could feel it.
“What was that all about?” Loraine asked, sipping on her drink. We were at T.G.I. Friday’s having a drink after work. It was kind of a ritual every Friday.
“Remember that fine-ass white guy I told you I was seeing? The one who looks like George Clooney?”
She nodded. “Yeah, the one who sent the roses to the job?”
“Mmm-hmm, that’s him.” I shook my head. “He just told me he’s in love with me, and he’s divorcing his wife.”
“Damn, Jerome, you’re a pimp,” Loraine said with a smirk. “What do you do to these guys?”
I shrugged my shoulders rather shamelessly. “I don’t know. Just spreading around what God gave me, treating others the same way I want to be treated.”
“In other words, you suck the hell out of their dicks.”
“Among other things.”
Once Loraine stopped laughing, she said, “All jokes aside, don’t you feel sorry for his wife? The poor woman probably had no clue. Probably got kids too.”
“Poor woman my ass. Poor me. She’s getting rid of him. If she had a clue, I wouldn’t have to deal with his crazy ass.”
“Oh, please. You know you love it when they leave their wives for you. I can see your ego getting bigger by the second.” She leaned back in her chair and glanced around the restaurant to check out the other patrons. “And speaking of ego boosts, you might wanna check out the bar. I think somebody is looking at you.”
“Really?” I tried to play it cool by not turning my head toward the bar. “Male or female?”
“Male,” Loraine replied. She wouldn’t look me in the face—probably because she would have busted out laughing.
“Hmm, what’s he look like?”