“Yeah, baby, that was brutal. You might want to use Scope and Listerine,” I called out after him.
I heard the water running as I got up out of the bed. I picked up my sundress, which I had left in the middle of the floor last night. I smiled as I reflected on our unforgettable night.
As expected, my baby had had a wonderful evening planned. First, we ate dinner at Bellagio’s on Westheimer. Then he took me on a carriage ride through a recently renovated downtown Houston. After that, we went back to my place for a romantic completion to the night. We don’t get to spend much time together, but when we do, Myles makes sure it’s first-class. He didn’t make much money as a councilman, but his thriving real estate law firm afforded him the ability to treat me as the queen that I am.
I slipped my robe on and poked my head in the bathroom. “You better get going. How would it look if Mr. Councilman is late for his constituents’ breakfast in his honor?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Myles said. Within five minutes he was walking back into the bedroom. “I still wish you were coming with me.”
“I do, too, baby. Really I do. But you know I have to tape today and Malcolm’s people said this morning was the only time he could do the show.”
“So you’re kicking me to the curb for ol’ black Malcolm Long, just because he’s a big superstar?”
I laughed as I laid back down across the bed. “Now, baby, just because Malcolm is deep mocha fine doesn’t mean I’d choose him over the sexy future mayor Myles Jacobs. I would much rather be with my baby. Besides, I don’t cut for Malcolm like that anyway because he doesn’t like black women. He says we’re too bossy.”
Myles slipped into his crisp, white Armani shirt and began buttoning it up. “You are. Do this, Myles. Do that, Myles. I’m going to get me a nice, obedient Asian woman, too.”
“Don’t get cut,” I said, half-joking. I could have a jealous streak when it came to Myles, but it was only because I couldn’t have anyone jeopardizing my master plan.
“I’m just kidding. I wouldn’t trade my Nubian sisters for anything.” He leaned down and kissed me on the lips. “Now, I need to finish getting dressed before you get me all worked up again.”
I watched his backside as he disappeared into the bathroom. I flipped over on my back and smiled. I had a dream job. A dream man. A dream life. A life so far removed from Sweet Poke.
“You only have about fifteen minutes,” I called out to him.
“I’m hurrying!”
I closed my eyes. It was hard to believe we’d only been together a year. I’d seen Myles around town when I was out covering stories. But we didn’t officially meet until the NAACP Freedom Awards banquet a year ago. I was the emcee and he was receiving an award for his achievements in the political arena. We immediately clicked. He asked me out to lunch the next day and we’ve been going strong ever since.
Myles was everything I had ever hoped for: intelligent, sexy, and successful. We complemented one another. The power couple. That’s how the various newspaper and magazine articles that featured us described our relationship. We were even slated to appear in an upcoming Ebony magazine article. I loved that man to death. And I had no doubt that his love for me ran just as deep.
Myles’s family loved me, too. His father, who was deceased, had started their law firm, Jacobs & Jacobs, Inc., knowing his son would follow in his footsteps. Myles’s mom, a successful Realtor, bragged about me like I was her own daughter. And his younger brother, although not as successful as Myles, was still trying to make his mark in the film industry. It felt so good to be a part of such a together family. Such a normal family.
On the other hand, Myles hadn’t met my family. It was definitely not from his lack of trying. In fact, I hadn’t even been completely honest about my background. He took it personal that I didn’t want him to meet my people. But the last thing I wanted was my family worming their way back into my life and ruining my relationship with Myles like they did with Alex.
The last time I went home, four years ago, I took my boyfriend, Alex, a wealthy surgeon from a blue-blood background. We never went farther than the hospital, yet my cousin Tank stole Alex’s wallet. Shondella beat her oldest daughter right in the hospital lobby, and Aunt Ola and Uncle Otis got into a fight in the parking lot. Alex was so mortified by the way my people acted that he broke it off with me when we returned home. Initially, he just became distant. Finally he admitted that our families would never be able to mix, that his family would be disgraced if we ever got married, and he was worried about “his lineage” if he ever had a child with me.
After that fiasco I vowed to never let another man meet my family. So taking Myles to Sweet Poke was not an option. Shondella would be jealous and find a way to sabotage everything. Mama Tee would probably say he was uppity. My cousin Nikki would try to get him into bed, and heaven only knows what other secrets would be uncovered should we set foot in Sweet Poke. While Myles wasn’t as anal as Alex, I simply didn’t want to take that chance. Nope. Myles was best off believing I was estranged from my family. In fact, I hadn’t even told him where I was really from, instead lying and telling him I was from Little Rock. I didn’t want him getting any bright ideas. I felt bad about lying to Myles, but ultimately, I didn’t see any other way to handle it.
The ringing telephone snapped me out of my thoughts. I rolled over and answered it just as Myles blew me a kiss and headed out the door.
“What’s up, girl?” It was Shereen, the only real friend I had at the station. No, make that the only real friend I had in Houston.
Shereen was director of community service at Channel 2 and didn’t let my ways get to her. She didn’t let much of anything get to her. She was a cross between hippie and ghetto, a wild-child sister-girl. But she had proven to be a really good friend since I’d met her.
“Hey,” I responded.
“Girl, turn on the TV and look at Lorna’s hair.”
Lorna was the black anchor at the ABC station. She was my only real competition.
I grabbed the remote and flipped the TV set on.
“Oh…my…God.”
Shereen laughed so hard I could barely hear. “I know. Can you believe she dyed her hair blond?”
I joined in her laughter. Lorna looked like an idiot. “Girl, I hope she keeps it. It’ll make the few viewers she has turn away and over to us. Not that I need her five measly viewers.” I laughed.
“Rae, you are too much.”
I liked that Shereen understood my confidence and wasn’t turned off by it. That’s just another reason why we got along so well. Shereen was about five-three, 220 pounds, and wore minidreadlocks. She had no desire to be on air, so I didn’t have to worry about her stabbing me in the back.
“So, are you ready for Malcolm?”
“Yeah, I’m about to get dressed now,” I said as I pulled myself off of the bed.
“Me, too.”
“I thought you were off today.”
“I am, but I have some work to do. Yeah, that’s it,” she stammered.
“Yeah, right.”
“Okay, so you got me. But how will I ever get Malcolm to father my children if I can’t get him to meet me?”
I snickered. “Yeah, okay.” Like Shereen had a snowball’s chance of Malcolm even looking her way. But Shereen was my girl, so far be it from me to tell her that.
“Why don’t you hook a sister up? Tell him I got the cure for his jungle fever. Once he tastes me, no other he’ll want to see.”
“A poet you’re not. Good-bye, Shereen.”
“Tell him that once he samples this black, he’ll never go back.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Help him get it through his head that big girls are better in bed.”
I laughed again and hung up the phone. I was grateful for Shereen’s friendship. Ever since I’d left Sweet Poke, I’d been a loner, too scared to let anyone get close to me because I didn’t want anyone to find out about my past. Of course, Shereen h
ad asked about my past, but I’d told her the same thing I’d told Myles, that my father was dead and I was estranged from the rest of my family. I think she knew I was lying, because she gave me this crazy look, but she never called me on it, only telling me that whenever I wanted to talk to her about anything, she was there.
I scanned the racks of clothes on the far side of my closet. I had suits for days. Dana Buchman, Donna Karan, Albert Nipon, Tahari, you name it, it was hanging in my closet. I had come a long way from when Mama Tee would sew our clothes and hand them down from Shondella to Nikki to me. By the time I got them, they were usually hanging together by a string.
“Those days are long gone,” I mumbled as I picked out a deep green BCG jacket and skirt. The suit alone cost $700. That’s more than Mama Tee probably spent on all my clothes my entire life. I put Mama Tee, Sweet Poke, and my previous life out of my mind as I held the suit up to my body and surveyed myself in the full-length mirror. I looked good. I felt good. And as I twirled around in the middle of my closet, I couldn’t help but feel like I was on top of the world.
Chapter 3
I was still floating as I gathered my things to leave the studio. The interview with Malcolm had gone well. Extremely well in fact. He had even asked me to have dinner with him before he headed back to New York. Shereen, who had showed up at the station anyway, came over and introduced herself to him, but as I’d expected, he didn’t pay her any attention.
She had mouthed, “Oh, well, his loss,” before sashaying her big ol’ behind off. I laughed and was grateful that she didn’t see him as he turned his full attention to me. Although guys always flock to me whenever Shereen and I go out, she’s never fazed.
Anyway, I told Malcolm no can do. I could tell he’s used to getting whatever woman he wants because he acted surprised that I wouldn’t take him up on his offer. But I calmly explained to him that I was madly in love and my boyfriend wouldn’t approve of me dining with another man, even if that man was Malcolm Long.
Even though I am completely faithful to Myles, it feels good when other men show interest. It lets me know I still got it. And judging from the number of letters, e-mails, and calls I get from men asking to take me out, I’ve definitely still got it.
And tonight, I wanted to use it all on Myles. I had secured tickets to the Broadway play Aida at the Wortham Theatre. I planned to surprise Myles and take him there, then back to my place, where I was going to practice these new tricks I’d read in Zane’s latest book.
I decided to call Myles to make sure he came straight home. I planned to swing by my place, grab some clothes to wear tonight, then just meet him at his place since I had a key. It had dang near taken an act of Congress to get it, but after weeks of me pouting and protesting he’d given in.
As soon as I got in my car, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Myles’s office. After I’d played nice with his secretary, she patched me through to him.
“Hey, baby,” I said, after he picked up the phone.
“Hey yourself.”
“Working hard or hardly working?”
“You know I’m working like a Hebrew slave.”
As much as I loved his work ethic, sometimes I wished he would just slow down. “Well, stop what you’re doing and meet me at your place. I have tickets to Aida tonight.”
“What’s that?”
“The Broadway play. You know, the one I was telling you about that’s playing downtown.”
“Oh, yeah, I remember. Well, you’re going to have to call Shereen or something. I can’t get away tonight.”
I closed my eyes in frustration. It quickly dawned on me that I was in the middle of traffic, so I whipped my eyes back open just in time to slam on my brakes to keep from running into the Honda Accord in front of me. “What do you mean, you can’t get away?”
“I’m in the middle of a project and I probably won’t get out of here until late tonight.”
“But, Myles…”
“Babe, I can’t just drop everything.”
“Do I ever come first to you?” I whined.
Myles sighed. “Please, not that tired old argument again.”
“It’s not tired.”
“It really is. You knew what I did for a living when you met me. Now, you’re constantly complaining because I’m always working.” Myles huffed.
“You should be able to find a happy medium.”
“Good-bye, Rae. Have fun at the play. I’ll hook up with you tomorrow.”
Then he hung up the phone on me. I was furious. How dare he hang up on me? I viciously punched his numbers into my cell phone.
The secretary answered again. “Jacobs and Jacobs.”
I knew Myles had a direct line, even though he denied it. I couldn’t stand always having to go through his damn secretary. “Put Myles on the phone.”
“Excuse me? May I ask who’s calling?”
This heifer knew who was calling but I was not in the mood to argue with her. “It’s Rae.”
“Oh, Miss Rollins.” She quickly changed her tone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your voice. Mr. Jacobs is in a meeting right now. May I take a message?”
“He is not in a meeting! I just talked to him!”
“I’m sorry. May I take a message?” she softly repeated.
I contemplated cursing her out, but I didn’t want to give her anything else to gossip about. Besides, she was probably only doing what Myles had told her to do.
“You know what?” I said. “Don’t worry about it, okay? Just don’t worry about it.”
I flung the phone on the floor on the passenger side of my car and gripped the steering wheel tightly. Myles had pissed me off again. Now some perfectly good tickets would go to waste because I was in no mood to go see a play.
Chapter 4
We had been back and forth over this issue so many times my head hurt. But I refused to budge.
“This is ridiculous, Rae,” Ian, my producer, said. He turned to my news director, Richard, who was sitting in the conference room with us while we went over ideas for upcoming shows. “Richard, tell her it’s just a show.”
Richard, who hadn’t even been paying attention, looked up from the notepad he was doodling on. “Huh?”
“Tell her this is a great idea and she’s just being difficult,” Ian said.
“Uh, Rae, listen to him. It’s a great idea and you’re being difficult.”
I shook my head, disgusted not only by Richard’s lack of management skills lately, but by his overall appearance. “Richard, do you even know what he’s talking about?”
“Yeah, of course. Um, he wants us to um, do a show, um, and uh, I’m just here to listen and supervise,” he snapped.
We both looked at him strangely. His eyes were deep pink, his hair disheveled and he looked like he was totally spaced out. Richard had shocked us when he even showed up to our editorial meeting because normally he left the story planning up to us. But he had been acting stranger by the day.
I blew Richard off. It was obvious his body was in the meeting room with us, but his mind was totally somewhere else. “Find another topic,” I told Ian. I rubbed my temples. I was still upset about wasting those play tickets last night.
“But it will be Mother’s Day and what better topic to do than mother/daughter relationships. I think it would be great for you to bring your mother on. We’d even fly her in from…where does she live again?”
I tensed up. I couldn’t even remember what lie I had told him. That’s the trouble with lies, you have to remember them. “Ian, just drop it. I’m not doing a show with my mother.”
“Fine, I can understand you don’t want to have your own mother on, but what’s the big deal about having other mothers on?”
“The big deal is I don’t want to do it and I’m not going to do it,” I snapped. The real reason was I couldn’t stand to look at some happy-go-lucky mother and daughter talking about how great their relationship was. I didn’t need any reminder of how screwed up my own rela
tionship with Rose was.
“Will you at least consider the idea?” Ian pleaded.
“No! Let’s move on already! There are a lot more pressing issues going on. You need to find them.” My head was throbbing and Ian was getting on my last nerve. “I have to go.”
I stood up, nearly knocking over my chair, and paced along the conference room table. I didn’t need to deal with memories of my mother on top of all this drama with Myles. I called him until four in the morning, but he didn’t answer my calls. I only knew he was home because I drove by his house at two. I should’ve gotten out but I didn’t want him to think I was checking up on him, so I went home to wait for his call. It never came. That truly pissed me off and made my tolerance level really low.
“I think you’re being unreasonable, Rae,” Ian said.
“You want unreasonable, I’ll show you unreasonable.” With that, I turned and stormed out, leaving Ian sitting in the conference room. I ducked into my office, grabbed my purse, and headed out the back door to my car. I needed to get away. Go somewhere and calm down. Just escape. It was only ten o’clock and we weren’t taping my show today, so I had plenty of time before having to do the newscast at six. An afternoon of pampering at the Escape Day Spa was just what I needed.
Despite my best efforts, as I sped down Interstate 45 toward the spa, I couldn’t get my mother out of my mind. Images of D-day, as Shondella had referred to it, ran rampant in my head. Drop-off day.
I was eight, Shondella was thirteen, and Jasmine and Justin weren’t even a year old. Mama, or Rose as she made us call her, had left our hometown of Lake Charles, Louisiana, and driven for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, we arrived in Sweet Poke. I only knew that because I saw the huge WELCOME TO SWEET POKE sign lit up as we were pulling into town. Rose had pulled into the gas station and parked, and we sat there in that parking lot for over two hours. Rose had been acting strange all day, and snapping at each of us if anyone uttered a word. Justin and Jasmine napped in their car seats. Shondella and I were sitting in the backseat, quiet and scared. We knew something was up; we just didn’t know what. Rose was chain-smoking cigarettes, the car was clouded with smoke. We were too scared to even cough. Rose would puff a cigarette, run her fingers through her hair, bite her nails, huff, and sigh. It was so strange. I tried to ask her what we were doing, and she told me to shut up and just sit there until she figured out what she was going to do. After a little while, she got out and used the pay phone. We couldn’t hear what she said, but when she got back in the car, she was crying.
I Know I've Been Changed Page 3