With This Ring

by Allison Hobbs

  “Oh, God!” Looking disgruntled, Vangie shook her head.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Why do you always have to throw your marriage in my face?” Vangie asked bitterly.

  Harlow looked perplexed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Every chance you get, you bring up the fact that you’re married and I’m not.”

  “You can’t be serious.” She placed a hand on top of Vangie’s. “You’re my best friend, Vangie; I would never deliberately say anything to hurt you.”

  “It doesn’t seem that way,” Vangie said with a scowl and removed her hand from beneath Harlow’s.

  The cab pulled up in front of a Japanese restaurant on East Forty-Seventh Street.

  “This place looks expensive as hell,” Vangie grumbled as she climbed out of the cab.

  “It is. They serve top-notch sushi; the fish is flown in from Japan. But don’t worry; dinner is on me.”

  “You already treated me to the play. I thought we were going to an affordable Caribbean place.”

  “You said you didn’t care where we ate. Why are we arguing over every little thing? I’m trying to show you a good time in New York and all you’re doing is complaining.”

  With tension in the air, the two women were silent as they were escorted to their table. The silence continued while the hot sake was being poured. Vangie wrinkled her nose when she tasted the rice wine. “Oh, hell no; I can’t drink this nasty shit. I need some American alcohol.”

  Harlow burst out laughing, breaking the tension. “Sip it slowly. Sake is an acquired taste.”

  Vangie wrapped her palms around the cup and took another sip. She grimaced. “Is this your way of punishing me for having a bad attitude all night? If so, I’m sorry.” She reached across the table and squeezed the top of Harlow’s hand. “I have a confession, and I hope you can forgive me.”

  “What is it?”

  Vangie took a deep breath. “I’m ashamed to admit it, but I’m envious of your perfect life. I don’t want to be, but I am. I’ve even prayed to God, asking him to take the jealousy out of my heart, but He’s not listening. Oh, Harlow, I’m so…so sorry. You’re the best friend in the world, and I’ve allowed this evil envy to drive a wedge between us.”

  Harlow studied Vangie’s face. “I knew something was wrong, but I had no idea you were hating on me. If I could, I’d give you a million dollars like Oprah gave Gayle back in the day. But it’s not my money to give; it’s Drake’s.”

  “I know. And to be honest, it’s not only your money that has me feeling inferior and insecure. It’s your marriage.”

  “Why?”

  Wearing a pained smile, Vangie said, “I’m jealous of what you and Drake have.”

  Harlow lowered her head, feeling hurt and disappointed in Vangie.

  “And…”

  “There’s more?”

  Vangie nodded. “I’ve been keeping a secret from you.” She sighed and shook her head. “I’ve been acting like it’s all good between Alphonso and me, but actually, our relationship is a hot mess, girl. And I’ve been too ashamed to tell you that Alphonso only thinks of me as a special friend. He told me a few months ago that he’s a confirmed bachelor. Not interested in marrying me or anyone—ever!”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “I kid you not. The man is a commitment-phobe like Shawn. I’m so pathetic.” Vangie shook her head.

  “No, you’re not. Don’t say that.”

  “It’s true. After he told me his views on marriage, I should have ended our relationship, but instead of moving on, I accepted his terms.”

  “Why?”

  “I was hoping I could figure out a way to change his mind.”

  “But you tried that with Shawn and it didn’t work. Why would you knowingly repeat the same mistake?”

  “I’m a stupid ass and a glutton for punishment, I guess.” Vangie laughed bitterly. “Seriously, where would I find another single black man, who doesn’t have any kids and who’s as sophisticated and successful as Alphonso? I don’t feel like I have a choice. I have to be patient and stay the course.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. You both want two different things, and since he straight out told you there’s no possibility of him ever getting married, what’s the point in waiting around?” Harlow went quiet and thought for a few moments. “Are you in love with Alphonso?”

  Vangie shrugged. “Not really. I doubt if I’ll ever love anyone the way I loved Shawn. I think a lot of women feel the way I do, you know, after they have a man’s child.”

  “Are you saying you’re still in love with Shawn?”

  “Hell no. I hate Shawn’s guts. But I used to love him. I loved him hard, and I could never feel that way about anyone else.”

  “Then it shouldn’t be difficult for you to break it off with Alphonso. You’re wasting precious time and humiliating yourself by lingering in a relationship that isn’t going anywhere.”

  “You’re right.”

  The waitress, a beautiful woman dressed in traditional Japanese garb, approached their table and asked if they were ready to order. “Not yet; we need a few more minutes,” Harlow said as she scanned the menu. “Can you bring my friend another drink? She doesn’t like sake.”

  The waitress nodded in understanding. “What would you like?” she asked Vangie.

  “Can I get a pomegranate martini?”

  “Sorry. We only have a small wet bar. We don’t serve that here. I can offer cold sake.”

  Vangie scrunched up her nose. “No more sake. Do you have anything sweet?”

  “Plum wine?” the waitress offered.

  “Great. Bring us both a glass. Hell, bring us a bottle,” Harlow said and nudged a menu toward Vangie.

  They both studied the menus. “I’m not feeling all this raw fish,” Vangie said.

  “You don’t have to get sushi. Why don’t you order the Russian King Crab with Special Vinegar Sauce for an appetizer? I’ve had it and it’s really good.”

  “Okay, what are you having?”

  “I think I’ll start out with the Tuna Tartare with Beluga Caviar and Scallions.”

  Vangie scanned the menu, checking out Harlow’s selection. “Damn, your appetizer costs a hundred and fifty dollars!”

  “And it’s worth it. So delicious. Wanna try it?”

  “No, I’ll stick with the King Crab. Hell, thirty dollars for crab meat is bad enough.”

  “You’re not paying for it, so stop worrying about it.”

  “Seems wasteful,” Vangie said, shaking her head.

  Harlow glanced at Vangie’s new handbag that was hanging on the back of the chair. “I guess that Louis Vuitton bag was cheap?”

  “I get to carry my bags over and over, but this food is going in one end and out the other.”

  “Oh, live a little and stop being a joy snatcher.”

  When the waitress returned with the drinks, Harlow ordered their appetizers and main course, getting the Chef’s Special Sushi and Sashimi platter for herself and Teriyaki Chicken and Tempura Shrimp and Vegetables for Vangie.

  They both liked the plum wine and raised their glasses in a toast. Harlow’s phone rang and she broke into a grin when she saw Drake’s name on the screen. “Hello, sweetheart! How’s everything working out in London? It’s going good?… Oh, I’m so glad to hear that.” Then she lowered her voice. “I miss you, Drake. Our bed is so big and lonely without you.”

  “Tell Drake I said hello,” Vangie chimed in.

  “Vangie says hello.” She glanced at Vangie. “Drake said, hi.” Then she returned her attention to her call. Vangie began taking big gulps of the wine while Harlow talked with Drake.

  “We went to see that play about Motown. It was awesome. Now we’re at Kurumazushi. Yes, we’re having a great time…Okay, see you soon, darling. I love you, too.” Wearing a pleasant smile, Harlow clicked off the phone and returned it to her bag.

  “That’s what I wish I had,” Vangie sai
d solemnly, and took a big sip of wine. “I wish I had someone who cared enough to check up on me. A man who loved me enough to put a ring on my damn finger.”

  “Your day is gonna come, Vangie. But the first thing you have to do is break it off with Alphonso.”

  “Why are you pushing so hard for me to dump him?”

  “He won’t even define your relationship; he refers to you as his special friend!” Harlow made a scoffing sound. “What kind of mess is that? From what you’ve told me, I get the feeling that you’re being treated like a mistress…or worse.”

  “Well…to be honest, we don’t spend that much quality time together, and he gives me expensive gifts every time we sleep together. So, I guess you could say I’m allowing him to treat me like a whore.”

  “Why, Vangie? Why would you stoop to that? Your personal integrity has to be more valuable than a pair of expensive sandals…” Harlow paused and glanced down at Vangie’s metallic sandals. “You can do better than Alphonso, girl. I want you to find someone who wants the same thing you want. Even if you end up with a bus driver, so what? I mean…why these high standards now? Shawn was a barber…cutting hair in his mother’s basement and you had a child by him. Alphonso was only a bodyguard when you met him at my wedding, and that didn’t bother you at the time.”

  “Well, I’ve grown accustomed to the finer things in life now. Alphonso has given me so many material things, I couldn’t imagine being with an average guy after being with him. I want the kind of life you’re living, Harlow. Why don’t you want that for me?”

  “Because you’re being fake and materialistic, Vangie, and I’ve never known you to be that way. I didn’t marry Drake for his money; I married for love. Rich or poor, I’ll always love him.”

  “Good for you, Harlow. You’ve always been a Miss Goody Two-Shoes. Everybody isn’t like you.” Vangie leaned forward and whispered, “By the way, I have another confession.”

  “Jesus! What now?”

  “Alphonso is terrible in bed. Girl, he’s the worst. I’ve never had an orgasm with his no-fucking self.”

  Harlow frowned and then giggled. “Oh, my God. I feel so embarrassed for Alphonso. What’s the problem? Is he packing a mini…down there?” She nudged her chin downward.

  “It’s not exactly a mini, but it’s short and stubby. I can’t stand his fat little, sawed-off dick. But that’s not the worst of it.”

  Harlow frowned. “There’s more?”

  “Uh-huh. Your boy is a five-minute man.”

  “Oh, no! I shouldn’t be hearing this. I’m never going to look at Alphonso the same!”

  “He has no finesse in bed. Doesn’t bother with foreplay at all. He doesn’t do shit. No kissing. No caressing. No nothing.”

  “He doesn’t kiss you?” Harlow asked, looking astonished.

  “Nope.” Vangie took another sip of wine. “In the beginning, he had me thinking I had bad breath or something, but the dude simply isn’t affectionate. He’s a strange individual. Really cold and disconnected.”

  “So, I ask you again, why are you still dealing with him?”

  Vangie shrugged. “He’s generous. So generous that I’ve convinced myself that eventually our sex life will improve.”

  “Seems like you’ve been trying to convince yourself of a lot of things. I’m trying to picture this five-minute sex act that’s devoid of affection. It sounds like a nightmare.”

  “It is. Want me to paint you a vivid picture?”

  “Not really.”

  “Well, I insist. I suck his stumpy dick for a few moments and then he rams it in me and fucks me doggy-style.”

  “Only doggy-style?”

  “Yup, and he’s fast and furious. That bastard pounds my pussy like it did something to offend him. Thank God he’s quick, otherwise, I don’t think I’d be able to survive his vicious hard-fucking. It’s not his dick that’s hurting me; it’s the way he slams his hard, muscular body against my ass. He seems to be trying to make up for that stubby dick by pounding his hard body against mine. It’s a wonder my insides haven’t been knocked all around.”

  Harlow turned up a corner of her top lip. “Does he go down on you, at least? You know, to get you in the mood.”

  “Nope. I have to use a lubricant before I let him ram the hell out of me. Luckily, it only takes a few strokes for him to bust. Selfish bitch doesn’t give two shits whether or not I get mine.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I’m stunned speechless. I mean…I thought you two were in love.”

  “What made you think that? Did he say anything about our relationship?”

  “No, Alphonso never talks about his personal life with me.”

  “He doesn’t talk about it with me, either.” Vangie refilled her glass and quickly drained it.

  “Don’t try to drink your troubles away,” Harlow cautioned. “Think about Nivea and how she practically ruined her life with all that drinking she was doing.”

  “My life is such a mess. I might be worse off than Niv.”

  “That’s impossible. But speaking of Nivea, did she get the results of the baby’s paternity test?”

  “I don’t know; I haven’t talked to her in a minute. Between you and me, I don’t think the baby is Knox’s child. That baby belongs to a white man, trust me. I don’t know who Nivea thinks she’s fooling.”

  “I haven’t seen Mackenzie since she was born, but I thought she’d darken up over time.”

  “She’s four months old and still pale as a ghost,” Vangie said and burst out laughing.

  “But she’s cute, though,” Harlow added.

  “Uh-huh, but Nivea needs to stop trying to mess up her sister’s marriage and go after the real baby daddy.”

  “Who could it be?”

  “I have no idea, but I’d bet money that it’s some fly-by-night white man. Nivea probably doesn’t know who the father is, her damn self. Our girl went on a sexual rampage after Eric dumped her. God only knows how many potential fathers are out there.”

  “For the child’s sake, I hope Nivea can give her some information about her biological father.”

  “I doubt it.” Vangie took another sip from her wineglass, and Harlow gave her a stern look. “All right. I’ll slow down, but it’s…I’m just so miserable, Harlow.”

  “I know exactly what you need.”

  “I need a husband!”

  “But while you’re waiting on Mr. Right, you need some immediate gratification. I made an appointment for us to get massages at my favorite day spa, and our appointment is tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Okay, that’s cool. I’ve shared my secret, so what can you tell me about Alphonso? Like, is he seeing other chicks? Does he have a baby mama? Or God forbid, a wife I should know about?”

  “I told you, he keeps his personal business to himself. Seriously, Vangie, after all you’ve told me, I think you need to let him go.”

  “It’s not that easy. I’ve put in a lot of time with him.”

  “So, what!”

  “I’m not ready to give up.” Vangie turned somber and briefly drifted off in thought. Then she gazed at Harlow with a mischievous glimmer in her eyes. “I do know a little something else about my mystery man.”

  “What do you know?”

  “I know that he keeps a gun strapped to his ankle.”

  “How do you know that?” Harlow asked in a whisper and looked around the restaurant, indicating that Vangie should keep her voice down.

  “Yuri told me.”

  “How would Yuri know?”

  “He saw it and asked Alphonso if he could hold it, and Alphonso actually let my son hold his gun.”

  Harlow gasped.

  “I know, right? Awful, isn’t it?” Vangie leaned in closer and spoke in a conspiratorial tone. “I was thinking about when you confided in me. Remember when you told me about that incident on that yacht, back when Alphonso was Drake’s bodyguard?”

  Harlow nodded. “I remember, but I don’t want to talk about that. Can we plea
se change the subject?”

  Vangie ignored Harlow’s request. “Since Drake and Alphonso are partners now, and since Alphonso is supposed to be a refined gentleman like Drake, I wonder why he feels the need to carry a gun. What exactly are they into—you know, besides the car dealerships?”

  Harlow tried not to dwell on thoughts of Drake and his gun-toting ways. It was an uncomfortable topic, causing her palms to sweat and her heart rate to increase. “Drake doesn’t tell me all the details of his business and I don’t ask.”

  “Hmm. Has it ever occurred to you that maybe you don’t know Drake as well as you think?”

  Harlow glowered at Vangie. “I don’t know what you’re insinuating, but I don’t like it.”

  “Don’t shoot the messenger,” Vangie said, holding up her hands in surrender.

  The food arrived and Harlow and Vangie ate their meal in complete silence.

  NIVEA

  The Sandburgs’ maid admitted Nivea into an entryway that had a dramatic dual staircase. The home was even more luxurious than Nivea had imagined. Dr. Sandburg was living the life! Hopefully, Nivea and her daughter would be, too.

  Mother and child were both dressed in high fashion, with Nivea wearing a Prada ensemble and Mackenzie decked out in lilac-colored Baby Dior. Her head was adorned with a headband made of a cluster of silk violets. Purple was Mackenzie’s color, Nivea had decided, and the baby’s wardrobe was filled with various shades of the color.

  “Welcome to my home,” Rachel said, smiling broadly. Rachel Sandburg wasn’t the dowdy matron that Nivea had assumed she’d be. Despite the few strands of gray that threaded through her curly, dark hair, she appeared much younger than her husband. Dressed in shimmery yoga pants and a fitted T-shirt, she was trim and fit. Though she couldn’t be described as beautiful, she exuded a sense of confidence and vitality that made her attractive.

  “Let me have a peek at her,” Rachel said, taking Mackenzie from Nivea’s arms. Her brows gathered together as she trained her eyes on Mackenzie. She studied and assessed her as if searching for defects that would rule her out as her husband’s child. Waiting for the verdict, Nivea anxiously nibbled at the corner of her bottom lip.

  She emitted a sigh of relief when Rachel proclaimed, “She’s a beautiful child, and she’s the spitting image of Bertram—an exact replica of his baby pictures.”