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Four Degrees of Heat

Page 15

by Rochelle Alers, ReShonda Tate Billingsley, Brenda L. Thomas; Crystal Lacey Winslow


  “I’ll take it,” Black said.

  “How much is this ring?” I asked. Black didn’t ask such things because he believed that if you have to ask, then you can’t afford it.

  “That beauty costs one-point-five million dollars.”

  I was smiling like an ad for Kool-Aid. This ring was making up for every unsavory thing Black had done to me.

  After Black purchased my ring, he wouldn’t let me put it on. He put it inside his pocket, and we left.

  “Why can’t I put it on?” I pouted.

  “Because if we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.”

  “Oh. So you’re calling a press conference?”

  “Not like that, Nicoli. Just shut up and let me handle this.”

  Chapter 20

  Black called Tavern on the Green and had a special table reserved for us. Once we sat down, we ordered Cristal, rock lobster tails, and Beluga caviar. I felt like Cinderella.

  “Black, we could have just as easily gone to get some fast food. This is going to take too long, and I want my ring—”

  “Nicoli, you’re about to be Mrs. King. Baby-girl, you don’t eat fast food no more. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, Black.”

  “Nicoli, do you know why I fell in love with you?” he asked. I honestly didn’t know the answer to that question.

  “You love my blow jobs?” I joked.

  “That too,” he laughed, then got serious. “I fell in love with your carefree spirit. When I first met you, I knew we’d sleep together on the first date. That was what I wanted, and I usually get what I want. But it was whatyou wanted as well. The women I deal with I usually fuck on the first night, then they spend the next few days trying to convince me they’ve done something they didn’t want to. Thinking that I won’t respect them. They make sure they speak correctly. Dress correctly. Show how independent they are. Make sure I know that they have their own money and that it’s not aboutmy money. They use every trick in the book to catch me. Now, you, on the other hand—you make me laugh. You act silly. You speak in broken sentences. You’re rude. You have a temper. You don’t listen to me. The list goes on and on. And overnight you have totally captivated me. You’re the realest female I’ve ever dated, and I’m so afraid that I could lose someone as authentic as you…”

  “Awww, baby. You’re so sweet,” I said, and leaned over and kissed Black.

  As lunch ended, Black got down on one knee and said, “Nicoli, will you marry me?”

  Much to my amazement, tears welled up in my eyes, then streamed down my cheeks. I knew I’d be entering another phase in my life with Black, and the anticipation was overwhelming.

  “Yes. Yes, I will marry you.”

  Then Black reached in his pocket and pulled out the ring. It was like seeing it for the first time. The stone looked like pink lemonade. It was flawless.

  As he slid the heavy rock on my ring finger, we both smiled.

  “Let’s live happily ever after. Just like they do in fairy tales,” he said, and kissed my lips.

  After a blissful reconciliation, things pretty much went back to normal for Black and me. Today would be my first day out on the town in weeks. Summer was coming to a close, and I wanted to get out and have more fun before it ended.

  After Black went to his office, I finally had a chance to return Big L’s telephone calls. She was calling me so much, I had to shut my cell phone off and keep it off for days. I was also free to go and see Joy.

  I’d already told Joy about the engagement and she was dying to see my ring. I decided to wear a pair of Filthmore jeans, a wife-beater, and the new pair of Manolo Blahniks I’d just bought. I put on my $100,000 Piaget watch, luxuriating in Black’s wealth. I couldn’t wait to become Mrs. King.

  I asked Joy to meet me at the McDonald’s on Atlantic Avenue. I told her to bring Stacy and Fertashia along as well. Joy had told me that when she went back and told them that we had to beat a bitch ass over Black, Stacy and Fertashia went talking my business to the whole neighborhood.

  When I pulled into McDonald’s, my girls were already there. I beeped my horn twice, and they walked over.

  “Whaddup, girl?” Joy said, and jumped into the front seat. I didn’t respond, I just showed her my ring. As she was studying it, Stacy and Fertashia climbed into the back.

  “Wassup, Nicoli?” Stacy asked.

  “This,” I said, and pushed my ring in her face.

  “That’s cute,” she said, uninterested. “Now, can you move your hand from ’n front of my face.”

  “Stacy, a two-million-dollar ring isn’t cute. It’s fabulous!” I snapped.

  “That cost two million dollars?” she said disbelievingly.

  “It was appraised at five million,” I lied. “Look at the clarity. Go on, look. Take notes and run around and tell the block that I got this because of that bitch I beat down the other night.”

  “Nicoli, I’m happy for you ’n shit. But I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stacy said in a diplomatic tone. She can be really irksome. Then she continued, “Besides, why are you fighting over a man? That’s wrong. That girl didn’t have anything to do with you. She can only believe what Black tells her. You should have fought Black.”

  “You defending that slut,” I accused.

  “That’s what’s up.”

  “Get the fuck out!” I exploded. Rehashing the whole incident didn’t sit well with me.

  “Why I gotta get out? I’m only keepin’ it real. I thought we were girls? I thought we were gonna chill in the Benz,” Stacy whined.

  “I’m not fuckin’ wit you no more. You gotta get out, yo,” I said, using my street vernacular.

  Stacy got out, slammed my car door, then said, “You coming, Fertashia?”

  “Nah, I’m a chill wit Nicoli and Joy.”

  “No the fuck you not. You can get out too,” I screamed.

  “Fuck you, Nicoli!” Fertashia yelled as she got out. “Say, it’s ten o’clock. Do you know who your man’s fucking?”

  “Bitches,” I stated to Joy.

  “You buggin,’ flippin’ on Stacy and Fertashia. If you stressed, go and fight Black. But Stacy or Fertashia didn’t cross you.”

  “Oh, you on their side, too?”

  “Sorry, yo. But weall used to be tight. Just ’cause you ain’t rollin’ wit them no more don’t mean I have to feel the same way. I’m ya girl, no doubt. But when you ain’t around, Fertashia and Stacy are what’s really good.”

  Joy was right. I wasn’t there all the time, and she was used to it being the four of us. So I smiled and treated my girl to Juniors Restaurant. We ordered jumbo shrimp and strawberry cheesecake.

  As we were talking about old times, my cell phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Where have you been!” the caller screamed.

  “Who’s this?”

  “This is Big L. I’ve been calling you for weeks. I thought something happened to you,” she said, and I could tell she was relieved to hear my voice. Surprisingly, I actually missed the crazy broad.

  “I’m cool. I had some issues.”

  “Well, you could have at least called,” she whined.

  “Well, I didn’t. So what’s up anyway?” I said.

  “You free? Why don’t you come through?”

  I thought about it for a quick minute. My time with Joy was coming to an end, and I actually wanted to go to Big L’s. I’m sure she’d have some E, and we could have a good time.

  “I’ll be there in an hour,” I said, then hung up.

  “Who was that?” Joy questioned.

  “Big L.”

  “So you leaving me to go be with her?” she asked, accusingly.

  “You can come, too.”

  “Why the fuck do I want to go over there? In how many mutherfuckin’ ways do I need to tell you I ain’t down wit that dumb shit?”

  “Joy, I’m not down with that shit either. I’m only going for the E pills.”

  “Wha
tever.”

  I paid the bill and rushed Joy home. Driving on the FDR, I realized that I had become addicted to E. If I didn’t curb my craving, I could lose everything.

  Chapter 21

  The clock is ticking,” I said to Big L, who was running me a bath. She wanted to do the romantic thing, so I decided to humor her. She’d stopped at Melodrama Books & Things and purchased the Kama Sutra and a book on erotic massages. I decided I’d indulge—maybe learn some new tricks for my soon-to-be husband.

  The hotel’s suite had a nice-size whirlpool tub, and I told Big L to put lots of apricot bubble bath inside. While the water was still running, we both got in. She had pulled the drapes because it was still early and lit a few candles. The champagne was ice cold, and the strawberries were sweet. After I’d taken the E pill, I was ready to speed things up because I needed to be home at a decent time.

  “Let’s get out,” I suggested, and Big L didn’t object.

  We both ran naked, dripping wet with soapsuds, to the bedroom. I fell onto the bed, and Big L grabbed a small bottle of scented oil and began to massage my back. Her masculine fingers kneaded into my skin and took away any stress I was harboring. As she massaged my whole body, I drifted off into a deep meditation. I thought about how wonderful it felt to be pampered. I also thought about how if I were home with Black, I’d be doing the rubbing and not getting rubbed. But before I could get angry, I thought about Black’s million-dollar smile. This made the task of tending to his needs worthwhile.

  Big L started to kiss the nape of my neck, and I moaned in pleasure. Then she started to make her way down my back.

  “You have a really nice ass,” she complimented.

  “Don’t stop.”

  And she didn’t. Big L took her hands and separated my ass cheeks. Then she licked the outside of my ass, then explored the inside. I turned over and spread my legs. When my hands reached down to grab her head, she noticed my ring.

  “What’s that?” she said, stopping all movement.

  “Don’t stop,” I said again, but she didn’t move.

  “That’s a ring on your finger,” she said. My eyes flew open, and I realized she was agitated.

  “Oh, yeah. Black and I are engaged. Isn’t this the most exquisite thing you’ve ever seen?”

  Big L slapped my hand away, and it startled me.

  “What’s your problem?” I asked, jumping up. She’d blown my high.

  “What do you think we’re doing here, playing games?”

  “We’re fucking. Period. Having a little fun.”

  “Nicoli, I can fuck any bitch I want. I thought that you and I had something serious. I was waiting for you to realize that you loved me and not that silly nigga you keep chasing after.”

  “First off, he’s not a nigga. His name’s Black and he’s my man, and I love him.” That was the first time I’d said that I loved Black, and it wasn’t even to Black. I had to remind myself to tell Black that later.

  “You can’t love him! Not the way you come in here and make love to me.”

  “Big L, our encounters in here, behind closed doors, are to just heighten my sexuality. I don’t want to be old and saying there were things I wished I’d tried. You only have one life, and in mine I’m doing everything I possibly can. You’re just an experience among many experiences. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  “Bitch, are you stupid! I should beat the shit outta you up in here!” she yelled, and her eyes hooded over. For a brief moment, I was intimidated. I knew that I had to end it. Today. And so I did.

  “I thought you’d be grateful having someone like me sharing your bed. But instead you have to keep bitching. There can only be one bitch in my relationships, and, sweetie, that’s me. Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “What do you mean, I should be ‘grateful’?”

  “Well, you should. Look at how beautiful I am. I can have any man I want. And yet, I come spend my time with you. I mean, I spend hours looking in your face. And you should be the first to admit that you’re a bit hard on the eyes.”

  “You pompous, conceited, hateful, self-loving whore. You ain’t shit!”

  “So I’ve been told. Listen, Big L, I’m outta here. It’s over. I don’t need no psycho broad going ballistic on me. You got some deep, disturbing issues that need to be worked out. Too much anger built up inside of you. You need to go out and get some dick to release that shit. But your problems are your problems. I gotta go. Ciao,” I said. Now dressed, I sauntered out of Big L’s hotel suite, swearing never to see her again.

  Chapter 22

  The Labor Day weekend came and went. Black and I were supposed to fly to Hawaii and get married, but at the last minute he had to stay and handle some business. It rained the whole weekend, so I didn’t come out until Tuesday morning.

  In the parking garage, I clicked my alarm, and my ignition automatically started. I liked doing that. As I approached, my pace slowed down and my mouth fell open. My beautiful Mercedes-Benz CL 600 had been vandalized. Someone had scratched “lesbian bitch” on both car doors, the hood, and the trunk. Immediately, I dialed Big L, and the hotel said she’d checked out days ago. That might be so, but I knew she was behind this.

  I slowly got into my car. Then I panicked. Black could not see my car like this. I drove to the dealer, dropped off my Benz, and received a loaner car. I told the dealer that I’d left it parked in Brooklyn, and it was vandalized. Still, he looked at me suspiciously, as if to say, “Who you fooling?”

  I rushed home and went to the security guard on duty. It had dawned on me that the parking garage should have a video surveillance camera that might have recorded who had vandalized my car.

  “Alex, last night my car was vandalized in the parking garage. Could you rewind the tape from yesterday so I could see the perpetrator and report it to the authorities?”

  “What’s your car location, ma’am?”

  “Spot four-oh-five.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad.”

  “What do you mean by that? What’s so bad about it?”

  “That camera has been out for weeks. I’ve called for repair on numerous occasions, but no one has shown up yet,” he said. The whole time he never looked me in my eyes, which I took as a sign of disrespect.

  “You gotta be kidding me!” I yelled. “I pay millions to live up in here, and you’re telling me that my safety is in jeopardy because your lazy ass won’t stay on top of your job?”

  “Calm down, ma’am.”

  “Don’t fucking patronize me. I could have beenkilled . Do you know who my husband is?”

  “Ma’am, I know Mr. Black King. Is that your question?”

  His smart ass was trying to be cute. So, okay, Black is not my husband. But my fiancé was going to get this piece of shit fired. Today.

  “I hope you don’t like your job, Alex. Because you won’t have it much longer,” I threatened.

  “Good day, ma’am,” he replied without an ounce of fear.

  I stormed out of the building and called Joy.

  “Joy!” I shouted.

  “Nicoli, what’s wrong?” she said, detecting the panic in my voice.

  “I’ve got to meet you. I got to talk to you. Meet me at McDonald’s on Atlantic in an hour. Can you do that for me?”

  “I’ll be there,” Joy said, and we hung up.

  Chapter 23

  As I drove over the Brooklyn Bridge, I put on 50 Cent,“Many men…wish death ’pon me…blood in my eyes dog and I can’t see…”

  I let my head nod back and forth to the beat. I was frustrated that Big L was this petty and childish. Relationships end. Feelings get hurt. That’s life. You don’t go around tormenting someone just because they don’t want to be with you.

  I arrived at the McDonald’s in an hour just like I said I would, but Joy wasn’t there yet. I started to go through the drive-thru and get some fries but remembered that Black said we don’t eat fast food. So I decided to wait in my car and chill. I had been waiting nearly an hour
for Joy, when someone tapped on my window. I looked at the stranger. She was a brown-skinned girl with cornrows going all the way back, wearing a black T-shirt.

  She motioned for me to roll down my window, and I complied.

  “What’s up?” I asked, thinking she was lost. All of a sudden she reached through my window and pulled me out. For a girl she was awfully strong. I tried to scream, but there was no time for that. Before I knew it, three other girls circled me. They were all punching and kicking me mercilessly. They dragged me in back of a Dumpster behind McDonald’s. I tried to fight back as best as I could, but I was no match for this crew. I wished that Joy would come and see the commotion and help me. But she never came.

  “Hold her down! Hold her down!” someone kept yelling as they tried to grab my hands and feet. But I made it hard for them by kicking my legs and flailing my arms. Finally they constrained me. I was lying flat on my back, and each girl had a limb in her hands. Everyone was breathing hard. As the tall, dark figure approached, dread crept upon me, and my heart fluttered in fear. The dark figure had on a black hooded sweatshirt, sweat pants, and a pair of huge, dark-tinted sunglasses. But even in disguise, I knew it was Big L. She looked around to make sure no one could see the chaos, then she reached in a knapsack and pulled out a pair of scissors. When I saw the scissors, I thought that they were going to pierce my heart. Just leave me for dead.

  “Help-p-p—” I started to yell, but was silenced by a fist. I tasted the blood inside my mouth.

  Big L leaned down with the scissors and started to cut off all my hair. Meticulously, she cut off all my locks until I was nearly bald-headed. As I listened to the scissors cut, the metal clashing together would be a sound that would haunt me for years to come.

  “Take her ring,” the masked Big L said. “Make it look like a robbery.”

  One girl wrestled with me for a moment before she was able to slide the ring from my finger.

  As I lay there bald and bruised, I thought they were done. All I kept thinking about was what my girls and I would do to Big L once we caught up to her.

 

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