Friday came sooner than Charisma expected. Once again, Nico sent a dozen roses to Charisma’s office. Later that day, Charisma and Nate were engrossed in conversation around the printer. Everyone else had gone to lunch, leaving them both behind.
Nate grabbed her left hand. “What, no engagement ring?”
“No.”
“The way he’s been wining and dining you with roses and Lord only knows what else, I thought for sure you’d be off the market by now.” He dropped her hand.
“No,” she repeated.
“I’m sure he’s fine with vanilla, but I bet he wouldn’t even know how to handle chocolate thunder. Does he do it for you?”
Charisma didn’t answer.
“You want a white boy over me?”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then make me.” His eyes searched hers. When she didn’t answer, he spoke for her. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said, walking away.
Charisma locked herself away in her office for the rest of the day. She didn’t want to see or hear from her boss. She was too ashamed to admit that she wasn’t feeling Nico at all. He was just a pawn in her scheme to get back at Chase.
It was all an act. If Nate found out the truth, he’d probably lose all respect for her as a woman and a human being. That would devastate her.
She worked a full day, came home, showered, and got ready for dinner with Nico. She drove to his condo in Baldwin, dealing with heavy traffic the whole time. She found a parking spot not too far from his building and sat in her car for a few minutes, collecting her thoughts. She looked over her hair and makeup one last time. Satisfied, she got out of her car and walked the block-and-a-half distance to his building. It was a bitter cold night, and by the time she reached his building, she wished she had worn a hat. When he buzzed her inside, the warmth was a welcome relief.
She took the elevator up to the fourth floor. When the elevator door opened, Nico was right there waiting for her.
He ushered her inside, helped her off with his coat, took her into his arms, and planted a nice, warm kiss on her lips.
“It’s good to see you, gorgeous,” Nico told her.
“Likewise,” she said, looking around at his black leather and cherrywood living room. “Nice place.”
“Glad you approve.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know. I was just joking. Can I get you some wine?” he asked her.
“I’d love some. By the way, the roses were beautiful.”
“My pleasure. Have a seat and make yourself comfortable.”
He walked over to the bar and poured her a glass of white wine.
“Thanks,” she said, taking a sip of wine. “I bet you’re some cook.”
“Well, I do all right,” he said modestly.
“I bet you do more than all right,” she said, grinning.
“You can be the judge of that. Let me check on dinner, and I’ll be right back.”
“Can I help with anything?” she asked.
“No, just sit back and relax. Everything’s under control. I hope you’re hungry.”
About twenty minutes later dinner was served—Caesar salad, lobster Alfredo, asparagus, and Italian bread. The aroma alone could have led Charisma to the dining area.
“Oh, this is why you asked if I was allergic to seafood,” she said, twirling her pasta.
“I didn’t want to have to make a run to the emergency room.” He laughed.
“It’s delicious.” She gazed into his hazel eyes.
“So you work with Chase Martini.”
“I guess somebody has to.” She shook her head.
“I know the feeling. She’s been sweating me for years.”
Nico grabbed a piece of Italian bread. “But she has a good heart, Charisma. She really does.”
“Oh, yeah? Maybe one of these days, I’ll see it.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin.
“I hope you saved room for dessert—apple pie à la mode.”
“I couldn’t eat another bite,” she admitted.
“Maybe later,” he said as they made their way back to the sofa. They both sat and he pulled her legs up onto his lap, removing her shoes and massaging her feet. She eased back onto the sofa, closing her eyes. Nico removed her kneehighs, and she smiled to herself, enjoying his touch on her bare feet. Before she realized it, he had made his way up to her end of the sofa and had begun massaging her neck and shoulders. His technique felt so marvelous that she didn’t want him to stop. When their lips met, she didn’t stop him.
His tongue darted into her mouth, and his hands slid down to her breasts, milking her nipples through her silk blouse until they stood erect. Finally, he began to unbutton her blouse very slowly, revealing a lacy, black bra underneath.
Though their lips never left each other’s, they managed to stand and remove her blouse and his sweatshirt. They stopped kissing just long enough to remove their pants and return to the couch. Charisma stretched out on her back, and Nico slid on top. He reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor. He gasped at her beauty. Charisma smiled to herself, enjoying the sensations she felt as he pleasured her breasts with his mouth. Before long his hand slid from her shoulder down to her panties.
His slender finger found its way inside to her swollen lips. She spread her legs ever so slightly, allowing him easier access to her privates.
Slowly, he stood and removed his briefs. Charisma stole a quick glance at his dick before he sat down on the leather sofa. It was all pink and wrinkled. He pulled her up next to him so they sat side by side. Then, he reached for her hand and covered his dick with it. She squeezed him gently and a tiny drop of semen oozed out. All she could think about was raw chicken. She began to gag. Charisma looked at him apologetically. This was not going to work.
18
Tangie
“We’ll have two martini pops,” Tony told the bartender over the weekend crowd.
“A martini pop? That’s a new one,” Tangie said. “What’s in it?”
“Vodka, strawberry and banana puree, and a splash of pomegranate juice.”
“Well, I’m game,” she said as the bartender returned with their drinks.
“Cheers,” Tony said simply as he took a sip. He waited for Tangie to do the same. “Whatd’ya think?”
“Mmm, it’s good,” she admitted.
“Stick with me and we’ll go places,” he told her, smiling.
“I may have to take you up on that,” she said.
“So tell me, Tangela, we’ve been on what, six, seven dates now and each time I see you, you’re wearing a ring on your left ring finger. What’s up with that?”
Tangie smiled slightly and took a sip of her martini pop before speaking from the heart. “I wear a ring on my left ring finger as a bandage. Every time I look down on my bare finger, I’m reminded of all the men in my life that I’ve given myself to who have rejected me. I’m reminded of the takers. So this ring hides my pain from the world. If I were bald, I’d wear a weave. If I wanted green eyes, I’d buy contacts. If I wanted to cover gray, I’d dye my hair. It’s a defense mechanism. People do what they have to do to survive.”
Tony was silent for a moment, choosing his words carefully.
He raised his glass in a toast. “No more scars.”
“From your lips to God’s ears.” Tangie changed the subject.
“Where in the world did you ever find lime roses?”
“Did you like them?”
“Like them? I loved them. I never even knew lime roses existed. Where’d you find them?” she repeated.
“A special lady deserves special roses. I had them flown in just for you.”
“Oh, you got it like that, huh?” she joked.
“Well, you know I have my connections.”
“I bet you do,” she agreed.
Tony looked around, his eyes fixated on a guy across the room. “Let’s get outta here,” he said, draining his glass
.
A few days later Tony surprised Tangie by meeting her for lunch. It was an instant day-brightener.
“Nice,” she said simply as they ate at the food court. “No work today?”
“I’m always working in one way or another,” Tony replied, looking fresh as new money in a black turtleneck and trousers. “But no more job fairs, thank God. So, you’ll never know where I’ll show up.”
Tangie sipped a smoothie while Tony enjoyed a brisket of beef on rye. She was too excited to eat even though she did her best to appear laid-back about their lunch date. Inside, though, she was like a little wiggly worm.
“So what are you doing tonight?” he asked her.
“I’m just going to take it easy.”
“What about you?”
“I have to go out of town tonight—on business.”
“Oh,” Tangie said simply.
“But I’d love to see you tomorrow night if you’re free.”
“I think that can be arranged.” She laughed.
“Good. Pencil me in.”
“I already have.” Tangie checked her watch. “Oops, I’m late.”
“Let’s get you back to work.” Tony stood and helped her with her coat. They hurried across the street just as raindrops began to fall. Right before she went inside, Tony leaned forward to kiss her. This time Tangie allowed his lips to gently cover hers. As Tony left and Tangie returned to work, the grin on her face remained for the rest of the day.
When Tangie woke up Saturday morning, her first thought was of the night to come. She rolled over onto her side and hugged her pillow, feeling calm, excited, nervous, anxious—in other words, all of the above.
The phone rang and she rolled over onto her other side to answer it. It was Blade.
“You trying to make me look bad?” he asked.
“What?”
“You heard me. I saw you and your little friend yesterday outside the gym. Don’t be throwing your little boy toy up in my face ’cause two can play that game.”
“Go crack another rib,” she told him before hanging up.
Blade called her right back. She let her answering machine pick up.
“Tangie? Pick up the damn phone.”
She picked up and immediately slammed the phone down into the receiver. Apparently, he got the message because there was no third call. Tangie was seeing Tony that night. She wasn’t about to let Blade spoil her mood.
She spent the day cleaning her house from top to bottom and running errands. She went to the grocery store, the drugstore, and the dry cleaner’s. By the time she got home, she had three messages on her answering machine. The first was from Charisma. Her father hadn’t had a heart attack after all. His heart was fine. He’d had an anxiety attack.
He was out of the hospital and home recuperating. Thank God for that. She erased the second message the moment she heard Blade’s hostile voice.
The third message was from Tony. She instantly perked up.
“Hey, babe, it’s Tony,” he began. “Listen, I’m going to have to cancel on you tonight. Something came up, and I can’t get out of it. I’ll give you a call as soon as I get back in town.” Sure, she was disappointed, but Tangie didn’t stress or get upset. Smiling, she recalled a quote from Diane Ackerman in an old issue of O magazine: “Give a man enough rope and he’ll wrap himself around your little finger.”
“So how’s that mystery man of yours?” Charisma asked Tangie over Heather’s one night.
“You probably know as much as I do,” Tangie replied, sitting on the couch. “I mean, I can’t even get him on the freakin’ phone half the time. I might as well be dating a ghost.”
“At least you know there’s not another woman,” Heather said.
“Are you kidding me? A woman I can compete with. A job is a whole different story,” Tangie admitted.
“How long was he gone?” Charisma asked.
“Too long.” Tangie shook her head. “But he did bring me Cold Stone ice cream.”
“That was sweet,” Heather said.
“Yeah, that he is. I gotta give the man his props.”
“What else did you give him?” Charisma asked slyly.
“You are so bad,” Tangie told Charisma.
“I was joking,” Charisma said.
“No, you weren’t,” Tangie insisted.
“So what’s new with Blade these days?” Heather changed the subject.
“Nada. He’s still a first-class ass,” Tangie said. “The other night he was waiting for me when I got home from work. When I didn’t let him in, he called me from his cell phone every fifteen minutes until I finally had to take the phone off the hook. Why can’t he just let me go?”
“Now, if you were chasing him, he wouldn’t give you the time of day,” Heather said.
“You know a man can’t handle the thought of another man savoring his ex’s flavor,” Charisma told her.
“Rubber or not, if he even thought he was gonna stir his dick in Miss Crappuccino’s cup and then put it back in me . . .”
Tangie shuddered at the thought.
“Just be glad you found out when you did,” Charisma told her. “It may have been a blessing in disguise.”
Eventually, the conversation made its way to Charisma and Nico. Apparently, Charisma had surprised herself.
“I thought I’d do just about anything to get back at Chase, but the bottom line is, I’m too much into the brothers.
Life is too short to waste on the wrong guy. I tried, but I just couldn’t.” Charisma shook her head.
“In other words, you dissed him,” Tangie said.
Charisma thought for a moment. “Uh . . . yeah.”
“What exactly turned you off?” Heather asked.
“Hey, if you weren’t feeling it, you weren’t feeling it,” Tangie decided.
“Do you think you could sleep with a white man?” Charisma asked them.
“Don’t get me wrong.” Tangie laughed. “Brothers can put you through hell, but I love ’em too much to even think about going anywhere else. On the other hand, when a white man is into sisters, he’s really into sisters. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had offers, but none that I couldn’t refuse. I guess it comes down to what price are you willing to pay?”
“I had a white boyfriend in college,” Heather admitted.
“Where were we?” Charisma asked.
“Oh, you guys had already graduated,” Heather said.
“How was he?” Tangie asked.
“Different,” Heather admitted. “Not unpleasant, just different.”
“Would you do it again?” Charisma asked.
“I don’t know.” Heather thought for a moment. “So getting back to Nico. I still can’t figure out why you even thought you could go through with it.”
“I don’t know what I was thinking. He’s a nice guy, but it never should have happened.” Charisma slid down into the love seat, relaxing to the sounds of Alicia Keys..
“What happened?” Tangie and Heather said in unison.
“I told you we went out on a few dates, right? No problem. I didn’t mind the stares we got on the street from the brothas.” Charisma paused for a moment to rub the back of her neck. “And you know I couldn’t care less about the stares from the little blonde chicks.”
“So what was the problem?” Tangie asked.
“He cooked dinner for me one night, and afterward we relaxed on the sofa. One thing led to another, but I couldn’t go through with it. I was so embarrassed. All I could do was put my clothes on and leave. He’s tried calling me a few times since, but when I saw his number on my caller ID, I just let it go to voice mail. Eventually, he got the hint and stopped calling.”
“You should never have gone out with him in the first place,” Heather said. “I know you just wanted to get back at Chase, but happiness is the best revenge.”
“That’s what they say,” Charisma sighed.
“It really is. She’ll get hers one day,” Tangie reminded her. “Tr
ust me.”
“I know. I’m just tired of waiting,” Charisma said.
“We know,” Heather agreed.
Tangie woke up Tuesday morning feeling like a worn-out dishrag. She had nausea, diarrhea, and a fever. Achey and damp, she promptly called in sick and made herself a cup of tea. Tangie barely had enough time to make it to the bathroom before the bile rose up in her throat. She crawled back into bed and drifted off to sleep. Somewhere around eleven her phone rang, jarring her awake.
“Hello?” she answered, her voice raw and irritated.
“Tangela? Are you okay?” It was Tony.
“Oh hi, Tony. I think I’m coming down with the flu.”
“Poor baby. I just got back last night. Can I bring you anything?”
“All I want is sleep.”
“Have you eaten?”
She looked over at the cold cup of tea on her nightstand.
“I don’t think I can keep anything down.”
“I’ll be right over.”
“No, I’m a mess.”
“I don’t care. I’m on my way.”
Tangie tried to brush her teeth without gagging, took a super-quick shower, and changed into fresh pajamas. She lay down for a few minutes, mustering enough energy to get the door for Tony when the bell rang.
“Hey,” she greeted him simply.
“You look terrible.” Tony walked in carrying a big bag of groceries, which he proceeded to take into the kitchen.
“You didn’t have to bring me anything.” Tangie ran her hand through her hair and followed him into the kitchen.
“So sue me,” he said, emptying the contents of the bag onto the table. There was chicken soup, orange juice, oranges, herbal tea, a box of tissue, and throat lozenges. Tony took off his coat and washed his hands. “Why don’t you get back into bed, and I’ll whip you up something?”
“The pots are . . .”
“I’ll figure things out,” Tony reassured her.
“Ooh, I feel a little light-headed.”
“Go get some rest.”
Tangie did as she was told. She got back into bed and turned on the television. Naturally, nothing much was on except daytime soaps. Thank goodness for the remote. She channel-surfed from one station to the next until finally Tony appeared with lunch.
Cheesecake and Teardrops Page 18