Blac snickered, turned away, like he hadn’t given it any thought at all, when he actually had. He shook his head and said, “What the hell would I look like hanging out in Wisconsin? Nope. No thanks. I ain’t no dairy farmer.”
When he turned to look back at Wanda, there were tears on her face. “You’re gonna end up in trouble if you stay, Joe. You gonna end up in trouble or dead.”
37
His hands in his pocket, his head lowered, Eric walked a line back and forth across his room.
When he heard a knock, he stared at the door but did not move.
The knock came again. Eric walked over and opened the door to find Cobi there.
“What are you doing locked up in this room again? We live in a mansion. There are other places to do things, you know.”
“Prison mentality,” Eric said.
“How did your meeting go this afternoon with—”
“Jess,” Eric said. “It ain’t go very good.”
“Let me get you out of here. We have acres of land out there. Let’s take a walk.”
The night was warm, and the sky above was speckled with stars.
Eric told Cobi about the meeting, about how nicely Jess was dressed and how embarrassed he felt because he was wearing the same clothes he wore three years ago, when he was thrown in prison.
Cobi appeared saddened by what Eric told him but remained quiet.
Eric looked just as sad. “She said I just need to leave her alone and let this happen. What the hell does that mean?”
“You can’t just wait on her. You have the letter from the attorney,” Cobi said. “I’ll call him, so we can find out exactly what’s going on.”
“How can she say I’m unfit to see my daughter?” Eric said, distress in his voice. “I love my little girl and treated her the best I could. Why would Jess do this?”
“You were in prison for three years, right?”
Eric nodded.
“And the child is four years old now?”
“Yeah. She just made it last month. You wanna see a picture of her?” Eric said, digging into his back pocket. He pulled out his wallet and slid out the old photo of Maya and handed Cobi the picture.
“She’s gorgeous. Look at that smile, and those dimples. She’s beautiful, Eric,” Cobi said.
“She is, isn’t she,” Eric said proudly.
“Maybe Jess thinks you been away too long. Maybe that’s why she’s doing this,” Cobi said, passing the picture back to Eric. “I really don’t know. We’d have to speak to a family law attorney. If Jess is filing a petition, there’s going to be a hearing. I know a good man who practices family law. I’ll get him to represent you.”
38
The next day Eric and I walked in the house around three in the afternoon. I took off work today, because I had the appointment with Sissy and the mystery woman I was supposed to be marrying, but I also wanted to start the process of helping my brother keep his daughter.
This morning, I knocked on Eric’s door to wake him up, but he had already dressed and showered and was sitting on the edge of his bed.
“You’re up early,” I said.
“Still on prison time.”
“You have plans today? I got somewhere I want to take you.”
We ended up at my favorite clothing store. AERO was located on Michigan Avenue. They carried the finest designers from all over the world, and they even had a spa, where I often went to get a facial, mani-pedi, and a massage.
I knew the owner, Monica Kenny, so I always received five-star treatment.
Standing outside the big glass doors of AERO, Eric stopped me just before I pulled on one of the handles.
“What are we doing here?”
“We’re getting you some new clothes.”
“No. I don’t need none.”
“You told me the only clothes you had were the clothes on—”
“I wasn’t saying that to get you to take me shopping. I ain’t like that, man. And I don’t need none of your charity.”
“Then what, Eric?” I said. “You wanna walk around wearing the same jeans and T-shirt?”
Eric lowered his head. “I don’t wanna take no handout from you, man. I need to earn it.”
“Fine. Whatever I buy you today, or from now on, we’ll look at it as a loan.”
“I’m gonna need a way to pay it back.”
“I’m one step ahead of you. My sister has a little influence in the family company,” I said, smiling. “I’m sure we’ll be able to find you a job there.”
The owner, Monica—an attractive, shapely woman, with short-cropped curly black hair—almost passed out when she saw the two of us. I had called her earlier this morning and told her I wanted her to lay out a fashion show’s worth of fine men’s suits, casual clothing, and sportswear.
“Changing up your look?” Monica asked.
“I wouldn’t quite say that,” I told her. “You’ll see. Oh yeah, and I have a surprise for you, too.”
Seeing Eric and me, Monica gave me a hug and said, “So is this the surprise you were talking about? You’ve been cloned?”
“Very funny,” I said. “Monica, this is my long-lost twin brother, Eric.”
Monica stepped forward, looked at Eric’s attempt at a handshake, blew it off, and gave him a hug. “Family of Cobi’s is family of mine. I assume this is really who the clothes I laid out are for?” Monica said to me.
“Yup.”
“Then why don’t you go over to the spa? Charlene is waiting to take care of you, and I’ll make sure Mr. Eric here gets everything he wants.”
Eric and I walked back in the house at three carrying six thousand dollars’ worth of clothes. He picked out jeans, jerseys, slacks, shirts, and even three beautiful Italian suits and ties to match.
On the way home, we stopped off and had Eric hooked up with service and the latest iPhone.
Inside the mansion, we set down all of the bags. Eric shook his head. “What am I supposed to say, man?”
“Nothing, because you already thanked me a gazillion times on the way home.”
Eric pulled the phone out of his pocket and started poking the touch screen. “Dude! I even got a phone. I can’t believe it. Tonight, my boy is gonna be like, wow!”
“You’re meeting someone tonight?”
“Yeah, I’m probably gonna be out pretty late.”
“Well, have a good time.”
Eric gave me a quick hug, clapped me on the back, and said, “Thanks again for the clothes.”
39
Because Austen no longer had a car, a limo had been sent for her, which brought her out to the Winslow Hair Care Products corporate offices.
When Austen was given the okay by Sissy’s secretary to step into Sissy’s office, she saw that the woman was on a very heated phone call.
“Listen, I told you we will have the money! When have we ever been late?” Sissy raised her voice into the headset as she paced the office. Tiny, quarter-sized circles of perspiration dotted the blouse under her arms. She held up a finger to Austen, while giving her a forced smiled. “Well, you just hold them off as long as you need too, understood? Good!”
Sissy disconnected the call, pulled off the headset, and walked over to greet Austen.
“Sorry about that,” Sissy said, taking Austen’s hand.
Austen had made a point to put on a nice earth-toned spring dress and short heels to appeal to the man she was supposed to meet today. It’s not as though she felt she had to sell herself, but over the last couple of days, she did realize that this deal was something that she desperately needed, and she wanted Mr. Winslow to feel as though he was getting what he was paying for, so to speak.
“Sorry that my brother isn’t here yet,” Sissy said. “He should be walking in the door any—”
Before Sissy could finish, her office door opened and in walked Cobi.
Austen had seen pictures of him in magazines before Sissy had given her the clippings. She had even seen him on t
he evening news a couple of times, but none of those sightings did him justice, Austen thought. Gay or not, Cobi Winslow was a beautiful man with his medium chocolate brown skin, his chiseled facial features, perfectly shaped head, and athletic body. It was sad, because yes, Austen felt her body warm a little at the thought of what he would look like standing there nude.
“Austen,” Sissy said. “Let me introduce you to my brilliant big brother, Cobi Winslow.”
Cobi took the four steps over to Austen, displayed a beautiful smile of gleaming white teeth, and shook her hand. “Pleasure to meet you. Miss Greer, correct?”
“That’s right,” Austen said, enjoying the softness of his hand and the strength of his grip. “The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Winslow.”
“Well,” Sissy said, behaving like a proud mother sending her teenage son to his prom. “Looks like we’ve made a connection. Once I get the contract prepared, we’ll have this deal done in no time. Till then, why don’t we just all sit down and get acquainted?”
“You know what, Sissy?” Cobi said. “Would you mind stepping out for a moment and giving me and Ms. Greer a few minutes to speak alone?”
“Oh,” Sissy said, surprised. “No. No problem,” she said, making her way to the door. “Just . . . call if you need me.”
After the door closed, Cobi paused a moment before cutting to the chase and saying, “So what do you think?”
“What do you mean?” Austen was caught off guard.
“If I know my sister, she has already explained every minute detail about this potential arrangement. You understand what will be happening, don’t you?”
Though fully aware, Austen sounded uncertain. “I do.”
“This in no way will be a traditional, fairy-tale marriage. Not even close.”
“I’m not expecting it to be.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“I am.”
“Because you’re having financial difficulties and this deal will rescue you from them?”
Austen didn’t like it being summed up like that. It made her feel like the high-priced prostitute she told Sissy she wasn’t. “I guess so. And how about you? I won’t be the only one in this. Will you be okay with it?”
“I will.”
“Because you’re gay, and your father wanted you to marry a woman in order to receive your trust?”
“I guess I deserved that.”
“You did,” Austen said, trying to smile. “Is this something that you really want to happen?”
Cobi looked down at his shoes, then back up at Austen. “I don’t necessarily think it’s a good idea. You?”
“I feel the same,” Austen admitted. “But just like me, if you had any other option at all, you’d take it. Right?”
“That’s right,” Cobi said.
40
After the meeting, I sat in my father’s Mercedes, thinking about the woman I just met—the woman who would be my wife. She was beautiful, pleasant, and didn’t seem to have any pie-in-the-sky beliefs as to what this would be. That was a good thing. I just hoped my sister knew what she was doing.
I picked up my cell phone and dialed Sissy.
“Cobi, she’s perfect, yes?” Sissy said. I could hear in her voice how proud she was of her work.
“She’s nice, Sissy. But there’s no such thing as perfect. That’s not why I’m calling. I need a favor.”
“Well, considering what you’re doing for me, I guess I owe you one. Shoot.”
“I need you to give my brother a job.”
Silence.
“Sissy.”
“No. There are a million other places he can work.”
“He’s an ex-con. You know how hard it’ll be for him to find work,” I said. “And he shouldn’t have to go through that, considering he has family that can employ him.”
“You’re his family,” Sissy argued. “Find him a job at the state building where you work.”
“Yeah, right. Our business is locking up people like Eric, not employing them,” I said. “It would never happen, no matter how hard I tried. I need this from you. You said you owed me one.”
“Cobi, I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“Sissy . . .” I said firmly. “I wouldn’t ask this of you if—”
“Fine,” I heard her blow angrily into the phone. “But he’ll be cleaning toilets.”
“No. You can do better than that. I’m signing my life away for two years. He can file records, answer phones, or something.”
“Dammit, Cobi, all right. I’ll find something. But if he does anything I perceive as questionable, he’s fired.”
41
Blac kissed Theresa’s full lips, rode her with a little less force till she finished climaxing, then he lowered her legs, leaned over her, brushed her sweat-drenched hair from out of her face, and kissed her deeply again.
Theresa’s eyes closed as she breathed. A content smile appeared on her face. She looked up at Blac. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
His only family was in Wisconsin, and if it wasn’t for Theresa sitting outside that gate in her rusting Chevy Malibu to take him home with her he would’ve had nowhere to go.
Blac raised himself from the bed and stood in front of the mirror on her dresser. She sat up behind him, admiring his tight, well-built body.
Blac glanced at the reflection of the slightly overweight woman behind him. She had gained a few pounds since he had gone to prison, but they were all in the right places—her hips, her ass, and her breasts. Her hair was longer now—a weave of some sort, Blac thought. It looked nice, though, and he figured she might have done it a day or two ago just for his release.
Theresa wasn’t winning no beauty pageants. She was a hard 5.5 on a scale to 10, but that’s what Blac liked. A woman who didn’t think she was too cute. A woman who wasn’t getting hit on every time she walked through the grocery store. A woman who thought she could get no luckier than to find a man like Blac.
Yeah, Theresa was exactly what he needed, and as Blac slid on his jeans, without first putting on his underwear, he figured he’d stay here till he was able to drum up the money to give Cutty, then he would head out to Wisconsin.
He just hoped he could get it in time.
Blac was surprised he had not heard from the drug dealer or any of his boys yet. They knew where Theresa lived, and Blac was surprised not to find some black Hummer or huge GMC truck with smoked-out windows sitting in front of her house when they pulled up earlier.
Theresa knew about Blac’s past, about his brushes with the law, but for the last year, he had promised her that he had changed and would not bring any of that criminal behavior back into her house.
If she got wind of him owing a drug dealer money, despite how much it might hurt her, Blac was almost certain she would put him out.
“You hungry, baby?” Theresa said, climbing out of bed and sidling up behind Blac. Her body was soft against his skin. Her erect nipples pressed into his back, started him going again.
Theresa sunk her small hand into the loose waist of Blac’s jeans, grabbed his growing penis, and tugged at it softly.
“We could go again, then I could make you whatever you want to eat.”
He could do that. His sexual appetite was enormous, his skill was masterful, and Theresa was easy. He could bring her to orgasm three more times without as much as a drop of sweat falling from his brow.
“We got all the time in the world for that, baby,” Blac said, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her on the forehead. “Why don’t you get that food together now, ’cause I’m starving. And get me the phone. I got an important call to make.”
“Sure, baby,” Theresa said. She grabbed a robe off a chair in the corner of the room and covered her naked body. She stepped out of the room for a moment, then reappeared with the cordless phone. “Roast beef, potatoes, gravy, and green peas sound good to you?” Theresa said, handing the phone over.
“Perfect, baby.”
Theresa smiled.
Blac patted her on the ass as she stepped out the room, giving him his privacy.
He pulled out the scrap of paper Theresa had written Eric’s cell phone number this morning, when he called the house about their hanging out. Blac was happy that Eric did as he said—actually called the number Blac had given him the day before Eric was released.
Now Blac called Eric, and waited, a frown on his face, with the pressure of having to find $150,000 for Cutty.
When the call was picked up and Blac heard Eric’s voice, a sincere smile appeared on his face. Not until then had he realized how much he missed his friend. “Hey, man! You coming by to pick me up for that beer tonight, or what?”
42
I sat on the living room sofa, thumbing through an Essence magazine to check out the new Winslow Hair Care advertisement while I thought again about the woman Sissy was having me marry.
Sissy said the contract would be ready for signatures tomorrow.
“I’m going to want the two of you to make at least two very public appearances before we announce the wedding—give people the impression that this has been going on privately, at least for a little while. Then I’m thinking a quick private wedding with just family and a few friends. Don’t get me wrong. It’ll still be beautiful,” Sissy had said.
The home phone rang on the end table beside me.
“Hello,” I said, picking up, noticing that the screen said it was a call from the front gate.
“Cobi.”
A tingle went through my body at the sound of Tyler’s voice. That always happened after not speaking to him for more than a day. I wished I was able to control that and not feel like a giddy schoolgirl whenever he decided to call or drop by to grace me with his presence.
“Tyler,” I said.
“Guess where I am?” he said in a singsongy voice.
“At my front gate.”
“How did you know?”
“I’m psychic. I’m buzzing you in.”
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