Head Games

by Mary B. Morrison

  Wham! My face and neck snapped left. I stumbled, regained my balance.

  “You fucking on the job now.” Walter’s eyes were filled with disgust.

  I couldn’t tell him about the bet or swear I had no idea I was going to get my dick sucked. Standing close to Walter, I made it harder for him to swing on me again.

  “Is that why you won’t marry Francine? You using her and won’t marry that girl. I told your ass Penny can’t handle this Essence crowd by herself and no way in hell is DJ leaving my location to put in extra hours here so you can chase chicks.”

  I was only gone for twenty minutes and Penny had betrayed me. There was no escaping my big brother. Retreating into the office was not a good idea.

  “I’m not ready, bro, you know that. I can’t marry her just to say I have a wife. I appreciate the way Francine takes care of me. I’m not ‘in love’ with her, and I’m not going to spend the rest of my life with her. She’ll never become a Dupree.”

  Walter stared into my eyes. I braced myself for a tackle, or a punch to my gut. “Then stop using her. That girl has been faithful to you since y’alls freshman year at LSU. It’s time for you to do the respectable. Let her go. Or buy her a ring.”

  I shook my head. “No can do, big brother. I got the ring, but I’m not giving it to her. I can’t do it.”

  “Then you will marry her. I’m not asking.”

  If I were going to be forced to permanently commit, might as well put her ass on the clock. I hit up Francine with a text, Get ova here right now. Need you to work my shifts all weekends.

  She replied, omw, babe!

  CHAPTER 3

  Francine

  Day 1

  “Francine. You have got to be kidding me.” Rene was like a sister.

  I hated disappointing her. We’d met on LSU’s campus at a Greek show during our junior year. I was there supporting Trymm. Rene was solo enjoying the entertainment.

  En route to Dupree’s, I exited Interstate 10 at Tchoupitoulas. “I know. I feel bad, too. I promise I’ll pay you back. How much was my ticket?” I asked driving across Poydras Street. Traffic was stop and go, cars were separated by pedestrians traveling toward Harrah’s Casino to my right and the Windsor Court on the left adjacent to what was once the W Hotel. After acquisition and an almost $30 million renovation, Le Meridien was our newest competitor. Being a hotel manager of a five-star chain, I knew the forty-five dollars for third-party valet service which did not offer a validation discount to diners caused their hotel to lose money.

  A text registered from Trymm, You coming or what?

  Quickly glancing at my keyboard, I typed, omw, before creeping upon Canal Street.

  Wasn’t as though he’d given me sufficient notification that he needed me to fill in for him tonight, tomorrow, and Sunday. In forty minutes I’d showered, gotten dressed, swept my hair into its usual ponytail (that I was literally sitting on), beat my face, and I was less than twenty minutes away. Give or take five.

  “The price isn’t the problem. You know I planned our girls’ night out six months ago. Bought four front-row, center, tickets with VIP backstage access for tomorrow’s concert and this is the thanks I get? Why can’t you make it and you’d better not let Trymm’s name come out of your damn mouth because y’all still on break.” Rene’s huffing projected through my car’s Bluetooth like static.

  Couldn’t say if she were in my shoes, she’d do the same. Rene was happily married to her high-school sweetheart. I, too, could find balance in my relationship if Trymm weren’t unpredictable. But just like with Rene’s husband, my man came first.

  She didn’t understand how badly I wanted to be a Dupree, and Trymm was the last one who’d marry. A long family tradition, Duprees did not divorce. I’d never be a single mom, and I’d planned on giving my father- and mother-in-law a baby right away. But not accidentally, the way Penny had done. Trymm would never forgive me if he felt trapped.

  The love, time, energy, I’d invested in Trymm for almost ten years, I was not going to risk throwing away for one night at the Mercedes Benz Superdome partying with my girlfriends.

  “I appreciate and love you,” I said, making a left off of Decatur.

  “Too bad you don’t appreciate and love yourself. You’re beautiful, young, sexy, intelligent, and if you don’t wake up, one day you’re going to look in the mirror and see a bitter, single old woman with no babies, who wasted the best years of her life on a man that she granted permission to use her up anytime he wanted. You haven’t cut your hair since you met him because he won’t let you. He won’t let you!” she shouted, then added, “It’s your damn hair, Francine! Trim your edges. Apply for the general-manager position you deserve.” Rene exhaled her frustrations onto me.

  Marrying Trymm would be my promotion.

  You know what. Forget it! Trymm texted. I can’t depend on your selfish ass for anything.

  Rene was right. I was always there for him. The same as she was for her husband. I replied, Looking for a park.

  “Rene, I promise I’ll repay you. Forgive me. I’ll explain Monday, when I see you at work.”

  Might take me longer this time to get back in her good graces, but I was her supervisor, she wasn’t mine. I’d hired her as my assistant manager and taught her everything I do. I wasn’t jealous of Rene, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want what she had. A husband. Two children. Out of respect I’d given her a day to find my replacement.

  “He’s never going to marry you,” Rene said, then ended our call.

  She was wrong. Over my dead body would I let François marry another woman. Parking at a paid lot off of Bourbon Street, I headed to Dupree’s. Marching on the uneven brick roads, coated with dirt, gutters were lined with plastic fishbowls, green plastic grenades, black atomic bombs, and Styrofoam containers, some with leftover food.

  “Excuse me,” I said, zigzagging between mostly happy, and a few intoxicated, females. Thank God, Trymm hadn’t left. I spotted him behind the bar. I gave my man a lingering hug.

  “Thanks for helping out. You know I love you for this.” Trymm stepped back, pecked my cheek.

  Our on-and-off relationship was one I’d become accustomed to, but I desperately wanted us to stay on. The longest break he’d given me was two months. Remaining faithful to Trymm wasn’t hard. Where was I going to find a dick that big, unless I had married one of his brothers? I’d heard Penny mention all of her brothers had a gigantic one.

  “Love you, too,” I said. “I guess we’re back on track.”

  “I was never off track,” he said. “When you learn to do what I tell you to do, when I ask the first time, and stop making me repeat myself, I can take this off.” He wiggled his ring finger. “And put on a real wedding band.”

  I hugged him, pressing my breasts against his stomach for comfort. “Baby, I’m trying.”

  “Try harder. I told you I need you to close for me the next three weekends. Be on time. If you do a good job, I might propose.”

  That would be great. All I ever wanted was to be his wife and birth his babies. I was determined to do an outstanding job. Checked my cell. I may have to work the remaining Saturdays and Sundays of this month. Best not to mention that right this moment, else he’d put me on break again. I’d figure out something. Might have to beg Rene to take my shifts.

  I was his wife in every way, except on paper. “Since I have to come back tomorrow, I’ll spend the night at your place after I get off?”

  Four, five, or six in the morning, whatever time Penny closed Dupree’s, going to my house in the East would take fifteen minutes, but I’d be too tired to drive. Kept a change of clothes in my trunk, since Trymm didn’t like me leaving my personal belongings at his condo. I missed my man. Desperately wanted to sleep with him in my arms, even if we haven’t had sex in thirty-five days.

  “Kohl needs me to help him out at Kash. No telling what time the club is going to shut down. Since I’ma be out your way, go to your house. I’ll come there.” Try
mm glanced up at the red light inside the charcoal dome, then pivoted toward me. “If Walter comes by asking for my whereabouts, tell him I’ll be right back. I had to make a cash drop. Be sure to clear the drawer right away if he walks in.”

  Like a good soldier, I marched with my orders. Entering the kitchen, I put a spoon of white rice in a bowl, added a scoop of seafood gumbo. Penny’s signature roux saturated my taste buds. Scrumptious. Placing the empty bowl in the sink, I checked the stock on shrimp, blue crabs, andouille sausage, Patton’s hot sausage, catfish, greens, corn bread mix, pickled watermelon, spices, and noned-ible supplies. I updated an order that was already in the computer for what we’d need to handle Sunday’s crowd.

  Penny walked in. “Girl, thanks for covering for my brother. How he gon’ go to the concert with Blitz when we have a line out the door? Check the liquor at the bar for me and put in an order for what we need. I’m going to help close out some of these tabs. When you’re done, work on seating guests.”

  Penny must’ve gotten Blitz mixed up with Kohl, and the club confused with the concert. She always got things twisted when it came to my guy. That was why I’d stopped listening to her dog Trymm.

  Turning to head to the host stand, I bumped into Walter.

  “What the hell you doing here? Where’s Trymm?” he demanded, scanning every corner.

  I stared at the floor.

  “I don’t have time to keep up with Trymm,” Penny said, swiping a credit card.

  Facing Walter, I lied, “He went to make a cash drop.”

  Oh, shit! The drawer opened. It was stuffed with cash. Penny closed it.

  Walter stared into my eyes. “Leave, Francine.”

  Opening my mouth in protest, Walter sternly said, “I’m not Trymm, and I’m not asking.”

  “Thanks, gurl. Bye.” Penny swiped another card.

  I overheard Walter say to Penny, “We know why he stays with her. She’s too nice.”

  On my way out, I paused. A beautiful chocolate lady, wearing a red halter, fitted jumpsuit, sat at the bar. She exuded confidence. I wondered if it was the sparkling wedding set on her finger or if she was always that way.

  “Excuse me,” she said, looking at Penny. “When you get a moment, I’d love to have an old-fashioned.”

  I noticed Walter replacing the almost overflowing drawer with one that I should’ve popped in, which had five 20s, ten 10s, ten 5s, twenty singles, two rolls of quarters, a roll of nickels, and one of pennies.

  Soon as I got outside the door, I typed, Walter came in. He put me out.

  Regardless of how Walter knew, or if it were happenstance, Trymm would blame me. I heard his voice in my head, “You dumb bitch! I’m not coming to your place!”

  Felt like a fool for canceling on Rene and my girlfriends. Erasing the text to Trymm, I called Rene.

  “I hope you reconsidered about tomorrow, ’cause I’m not selling your ticket,” she answered.

  “Can you meet me for a drink at The Ritz?” I asked.

  Heard her say, “Baby, I’ll be back. Going to meet Francine for a drink at The Ritz”; then she confirmed, “I’m on my way. Margaritas? Or Hurricanes?”

  Margaritas signified a happy get together. I responded, “Hurricanes.”

  No need to get my car, the hotel was a few blocks away. So was Trymm’s apartment. What sense did it make for me to have a key I seldom used? I’d barely come off of a break with Trymm, and now he had reason to shut me out again for God only knew how long.

  Maybe Rene could tell me what I was doing wrong and how to get Trymm to put a ring on my finger without her judging me.

  CHAPTER 4

  Trymm

  Day 3

  “Cozy crib,” Kandy complimented after entering my villa. Tossing her oversized canary-yellow purse on the sofa, she strutted through my French doors, stepping onto the balcony. “Wow. This courtyard, with the water fountain, is making me wet. All the times I’ve paraded through the Quarter, I never would’ve guessed all of these amenities existed inside these cement walls.”

  My complex wasn’t unique in that regard. A privacy barrier was standard for most residential properties north of Canal and east of Rampart. Besides being less than a half mile from my restaurant, not having to worry about females that I’d smashed showing up unannounced made my $700,000, two-bedroom, two-bath investment worth it.

  Joining Kandy outside, I stood behind her. “Damn, your husband is one lucky man. No way I’d let you outta my sight.” I had to touch her ass. Let my johnson do the honors. Her arms were silky smooth. “Coconut oil?”

  “That, and a little shea butter,” she answered.

  I exhaled, wondering how the rest of her felt. I swept her hair aside, French-kissed the nape of her neck, let my lips rest there as I slowly inhaled.

  A whiff of strawberries, mixed with vanilla maybe, made my dick crawl up her spine. The warm summer breeze blended my next breath with the scent of wild magnolias dangling on tree branches that hovered over benches below.

  Speaking like Athena, the goddess of wisdom, Kandy let me know. “I stay because my husband worships me. Almost impossible to find a man that respects himself, let alone his woman.” She turned around. Gazed into my eyes.

  I felt the alleged respect pumping blood through her veins. Get the fuck outta here. She was lying. A woman who had a husband that put her on a pedestal wouldn’t freely give his pussy to a man she barely knew. Kandy wasn’t even a challenge. She was more of a mystery. My standing her up didn’t keep her from showing up tonight. Perhaps her wedding ring was as illegitimate as mine.

  There was a part of me that wanted to take my time. Caress her nakedness. Hold her in my arms. Then there was the dawg in me, dying to lean her over the rail, hike up her purple sundress, snatch her hair, and fuck the shit out of her. Then right before I’d come, I’d pull out and spew white seeds all over those luscious gold heels she was wearing.

  I’d never lusted for Francine. She was on first base ’cause she was consistent. All the things she’d done for me in college—date one, Francine cooked and invited me to dinner at her aunt’s home in Baton Rouge. Week two, she cleaned my dorm room, top to bottom. Week three, according to her, I was the first man she’d performed fellatio on. What was there not to like about having a woman that did it all because she was crazy about me?

  “We don’t have to pretend, Trymm? Right?” Kandy unzipped my pants. “You invited me and I came for your big dick.” She lowered her strapless dress to her navel. “Put it in whatever hole you’d like.”

  Damn! Her natural tits with those huge nipples . . . “Um, um, um.” What the hell? I watched the purple lace descend to her feet, scanned the courtyard below, grabbed her hand, and escorted Mrs. Kandy indoors. Confirming that her nipples tasted like chocolate, I needed the video, didn’t want to risk my neighbors posting my ass on social.

  “Leave the doors open,” she insisted.

  Running my fingers through her thick, shoulder-length strands, it was fluffy and—thank God—track free. Slowly I lowered the waistband of my pants over my erection. She smiled at my dick and I swore my one eye winked back at her.

  “Let me help you,” she insisted as she peeled my cotton shirt from my body.

  Kandy picked up an armless chair from my dining table, turned it around, knelt on the cushion. Bracing herself, she glanced over her shoulder, then moaned, “Kiss my sweet pussy.”

  The moment I’d anticipated arrived. Saliva flowed, I swallowed. I didn’t have time for foreplay. In a few hours I’d have to board the yacht, set sail on my third voyage. While she started masturbating, I said, “Don’t move,” then placed my cell on the shelf and started secretly recording a video.

  Spreading her juicy buns wide, I placed my nose against her asshole, inhaled. Damn, everything on this woman is fresh. I stuck my tongue in her vagina. Man, her name was fitting. I sucked her clit, then teased her asshole again. Cream coated my finger when I slid it in and out of her pussy.

  “I’m getting
bored. Let’s switch,” she said, standing.

  Well, that made two of us. I was attempting to accommodate that bitch. Positioning her back to the video, I questioned, “You want me to get on the chair and tilt my behind in the air?”

  I did as she’d instructed. No matter what she’d do, she couldn’t take my manhood, and I’d already confirmed she was indeed a woman.

  Returning the favor, Kandy tea-bagged my nuts, French-kissed every inch of my buttocks. “Goddess, I love you.” Wanted to know if I needed that confession would I get it.

  “I love you, too, Trymm. Right?”

  I chuckled at her attempt to play me. I was cool with not going all the way. What we’d done definitely counted as a date, sex, and an unnecessary confession.

  Wasn’t often I’d come across a real woman that knew how to toss salad and didn’t mind doing it. Standing, I asked, “How long you in town for? I have to help out at the family restaurant in a few, but I really want to see you again.”

  “Have a seat,” she said in a low seductive tone, before pushing me down.

  Straddling my thighs, she wiggled her butt on my knees. Kandy held my shaft down, aligned her pussy, then slowly danced until the head was in. “So, is this what you men do?”

  I placed my hands on her hips. She removed them. “Do what? I don’t understand.”

  “You and I are married. Obviously, your wife doesn’t know about this spot. For all I know, my husband may have a hideaway where he takes his bitches, too. How can I find out for sure?”

  What the fuck? I needed her to shut up and concentrate on me. The way she took her time was nice. Her body simulated a wave motion.

  Slap! “Answer me,” she demanded.

  I grabbed her wrist. She gently touched the side of my face.

  “Damn! I confess. I’m not married. I wear the ring because I hate explaining to random-ass females why I don’t want to be in a relationship with them. I don’t want to justify my intentions with them when all I want is . . . a woman like you.”