Getting to the Good Part

by Lolita Files

  “Uh-huh. In trying to look out for your best interests, seems like I almost fucked them up.”

  The ringing phone was on a mission.

  She twisted her lips together.

  “Will you admit that you wanted things to get fucked up between us?”

  Wow. That was a tall order.

  She didn’t bat an eye.

  I smiled weakly.

  “Maybe,” I mumbled.

  She clucked her tongue.

  “Yeah, I guess,” I added quickly. “A little. I didn’t want to be out here alone, by myself.”

  Misty shook her head, still clucking her tongue. She looked up at the ceiling, tears spilling out anew and running down her cheeks.

  “You are soooo stupid!” she exclaimed.

  “I know.”

  Ring!! Ring!! Ring!! Ring!!!

  “When are you gonna realize that I’m not trying to leave you?”

  “I’on know,” I mumbled. My eyes were now wet, too. “I got a little jealous, okay? I admit it. You seemed so happy, I almost wanted it to go wrong.”

  She pressed her lips together. We both sat there like that for a few moments, with nothing but the sound of the ringing phone dominating the room.

  “Don’t let this happen again,” she said with finality.

  I moved my head rapidly, agreeing. Then I had a thought.

  “But what about if I see something for real?” I asked with a certain amount of seriousness. “Do you want me to tell you, or should I just keep it to myself?”

  “You’d better do your homework first,” Misty replied.

  Her tightly pressed lips began to form a soft smile.

  “Then, if you don’t tell me, I’ll personally come and kick your ass!”

  I chuckled.

  “Okay. I will. I promise.”

  “And do you promise to start helping me with my wedding plans?” she added. “Things are getting down to the wire.”

  “I promise,” I answered sincerely.

  There was a knock at the door.

  “Now, who the hell could that be?!” I asked, springing from my chair.

  The phone had never stopped ringing.

  I looked through the peephole. Again, it was dark.

  I definitely needed to get another peephole.

  “Who is it?” I demanded.

  “It’s Rick!!!” he bellowed. “I know Misty’s there. Let me in!!”

  Misty jumped up from the couch, rushing toward the door.

  “Here,” I said as she approached. “You let him in. I’m gonna answer the phone.”

  She undid the locks while I raced for the receiver.

  “Hello?” I answered, slightly winded.

  “Hey!! What took you so long to answer the phone?”

  It was Dandre.

  “I was handling some business.”

  “Handling some business? What kind of business?”

  I started to say something flip, then remembered our conversation from earlier in that evening.

  “Misty’s over here,” I said with a sigh.

  “That’s why I was calling. Is Rick there yet?”

  I glanced over at the door. The two of them were standing there, locked in an embrace.

  “Yeah, he’s here.”

  “Good. They need to work that shit out. I can’t understand why two people would start trippin’, right before they’re getting ready to get married.”

  I stood there, holding the phone, feeling like the devil in a pink robe.

  “Come get me,” I said.

  “What?” Dandre responded.

  “You heard me,” I snapped. “Come get me. I’m gon’ let them stay here tonight. It’s too late for them to be driving back to Greenwich.”

  “That’s a good idea,” he agreed. “Okay, let me throw on some clothes. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  I hung up the phone.

  Rick and Misty were still standing in the doorway. Misty was crying, talking, and grinning, all at the same time. Rick was holding her hands like she was the last woman on earth.

  Suddenly, I remembered something. I walked into the bedroom, found my purse on the dresser, opened my wallet, and pulled out some money.

  I went back into the living room.

  “You guys come over here and sit down,” I said.

  They glanced at me, all starry-eyed and euphoric. Rick led Misty by the hand, over to the couch. When she sat down, I held out two twenty-dollar bills toward her.

  “What’s this for?” she asked, puzzled.

  “Dolce,” I answered. “I told you I was paying that day. But you wouldn’t take my money.”

  “Reesy, please,” Misty sighed, pushing the money away.

  “Take it,” I insisted. “Consider it hush money,” I added with a smile.

  Rick looked at her.

  “Hush money for what?” he probed.

  Misty’s mouth twisted into a crooked smile as she cut her eyes at me.

  “Nothing really,” she mumbled. “It’s more like a penalty fee for an honest mistake.”

  “Oh,” he replied, rubbing the back of her hand.

  I was quite weary.

  “I’ll be in the back for a minute,” I yawned, “then Dandre’s coming to pick me up. You two take my place tonight—it’s much too late for you to head all the way back to Connecticut.”

  “Okay,” they answered in unison.

  I went into the bedroom and shut the door. I sat down on the edge of the bed, my head in my hands.

  Boy!! What a disaster that almost was!! Thank God I was able to salvage it.

  I really did love Misty and definitely didn’t want to do anything to hurt her.

  Breaking up with him, especially under false pretenses, would have really been devastating for her.

  In my mind, I could still see the way Rick was clutching her hands. Misty was so lucky to have him.

  I’d do anything to have somebody love me like that.

  Instead, I was dealing with a man who gave great dick and fantastic toys, but was, for all intents and purposes, my mortal enemy. I had been setting him up for weeks to get him back for humiliating me. What kind of a love affair was that?

  And then there was that other thing. But I still wasn’t ready to deal with that just yet.

  Tomorrow, I reminded myself.

  And, as long as it was dark outside, tomorrow was still a day away.

  Well, tomorrow came upon me, whether I was ready for it or not.

  And, like Scarlett O’Hara, ready or not, I had to belly up and deal.

  Helmut was waiting for me in my dressing room when I came in that evening for the show.

  When I opened the door and flicked on the lights, he was sitting there, like the Ghost of Christmas Past.

  “You didn’t acknowledge my flowers,” he said with a smile.

  At the sound of his voice, I felt an unmistakable tingly throb between my legs.

  Oh, hell no!! Please, Reesy, girl, say it ain’t so!!! No way could my cat be aching for this… this WHITE man!!

  It had to be a slip. I was just horny. My poor cat was merely responding to the fact I was feeling a little bit in heat.

  He was at my dressing table, in my chair. In his hands, there was a little box wrapped in silver paper, with a little silver ribbon.

  Aw, damn. What was I going to do? I couldn’t leave. I had a show to go on with.

  “Yesterday was hectic,” I replied casually, tossing my duffel back on the floor and walking over toward him.

  Helmut rose from the seat, waving his hand graciously. My cat was growing warmer by the second.

  This was starting to become a very serious concern.

  “Your throne, my queen,” he said nobly.

  “Hmmphh.”

  I sat down and immediately began pulling out my makeup and applying it to my face. I squirmed a little in the seat, trying my best to squash the little feline flames flickering below.

  It only made matters worse.

 
; “You can’t stay in here,” I announced, not bothering to look at him. “I have to get dressed.”

  Helmut stood there, smug and content.

  “What’s the big deal?” he murmured seductively. “I’ve already seen you naked.”

  Behind me, he gingerly ran his forefinger across the nape of my neck.

  “And what a lovely sight it was,” he added.

  By now, my cat was a raging conflagration. I mean, flames were practically shooting out from under my chair.

  “That was an accident,” I countered in pitiful protest.

  “Then it was a helluva crash,” Helmut returned, bending down toward me. He kissed my neck.

  “I want us to do it again, as soon as possible,” he whispered.

  I stopped applying my foundation, weakly shrugging him off me. I fixed my eyes on the surface of the dressing table.

  On the inside, I was freaking in a big way. This was definitely a problem. A real problem for sure. I could not be attracted to this white man.

  That mess just couldn’t, wouldn’t, and didn’t fly.

  “Helmut, what happened was an accident. I was drunk. Very drunk. It’s never going to happen again.”

  His breath was hot against my skin. From below, I swear, I heard my kitty give a squeal.

  “Sounds like someone doesn’t believe you,” he murmured.

  My eyes grew wide. Ol’ boy had obviously heard my kitty squeal, too.

  “Never say never, Reesy,” he warned tauntingly. “That’s a powerful word that many a person has ended up eating.”

  “I never eat my words,” I stated, ignoring the fact that I had almost just ruined Misty’s relationship because of that very thing. “When I say never, that’s exactly what I mean.”

  Helmut chuckled. Both he and I knew that I was obviously turning into putty about this whole ordeal.

  “Good,” he replied. “That means I’ll enjoy watching you eat crow, among other things, all the more.”

  He sat the silver box on my dressing table.

  “A little gift for you, my dear.”

  “No gifts, Helmut,” I refused, pushing the box away. “I think we need to keep our relationship purely professional.”

  “Then take it as a professional gift,” he insisted, gently pushing it back.

  “No!!” I replied sharply, helplessly. “Now, if you would, please leave so I can get dressed.”

  “As you like.”

  He left the gift on my dressing table and walked away.

  “You’re forgetting something,” I said.

  “Of course I am.”

  “I’m not taking your gifts, Helmut! So stop messing around!”

  I turned toward him.

  He was nowhere to be seen. And the door had been discreetly closed behind him.

  I huffed and turned back around, staring at the silver box sitting on my table.

  I squirmed again in my seat.

  My eyes were still fixed on the box.

  I don’t know who I was trying to fool. Shit, I love myself some gifts. Always have. The mere fact that I got mail with my name on it was enough to excite me.

  And since I had begun spending those stipends, giving myself gifts and allowing myself to get them had become a somewhat regular, almost orgasmic, indulgence of mine.

  Hell, when Dandre gave me the car, it’s a wonder I didn’t nut up right there on the street.

  (Hmmph… Considering what we did in the car that night, I guess, in a way, you could say I did.)

  I allowed my fingers to run over the surface of the silver wrapping.

  Just because I’m taking this gift doesn’t mean I’m gon’ get with him, I thought to myself. I didn’t ask him to give me this.

  I played with the ribbon on the box. I was excited by the mystery of its contents.

  I can keep it, I justified. Helmut owes me this for that stealth fuck he slipped on my ass.

  I loosened the ribbon and tore into the gift.

  It was from Tiffany’s. At least, that’s what it said on the box.

  I lifted the lid, and gasped.

  It was a dazzling diamond tennis bracelet. That bad boy had to be at least six or seven carats total weight.

  “Wowwwwww!!!” I whispered.

  I lifted the bracelet from the box and draped it across my left wrist. I gingerly held it in place as I fastened it.

  I held up my arm to the light, blinded by the glimmer.

  “I’ve got a problem,” I mumbled to myself. “I’ve got a biiiiiiiig problem.”

  That was a freaking understatement. I had some serious shit going on. I needed to talk to somebody about it.

  I needed to talk to Misty.

  Now that things were back straight with us again, I needed to bounce this nonsense off her. I knew she’d help me make heads or tails of it.

  ’Cause, right now, I damn sure couldn’t.

  What with my fiery cat and the dazzling ice dangling off my arm, I was at a loss about who I was turning into.

  I’d always considered myself to be in charge of my life.

  But right now, I felt like an out-of-control, materialistic, no-scruples-having hoe.

  I called Misty up as soon as the show was over, and asked if she had time to see me.

  “Are you all right?” she asked with concern. “It’s kinda late for you to be coming out here to Greenwich.”

  “I’m straight,” I lied. “I just need to talk.”

  She paused, listening for something else in my voice.

  “It’s nothing we can talk about on the phone?” she asked.

  “I didn’t say that when your ass rolled up at my crib last night!” I blurted. “Can you see me or not? I need to dump this shit now!”

  “Then come on,” Misty said. “You know I’m here for you, girl.”

  “All right. I’ll be there in a few.”

  “Be careful, Reesy!” she warned. “Don’t drive too fast trying to get up here. Whatever it is, just be cool and take your time.”

  “Yeah, right,” I mumbled, and hung up the phone.

  I didn’t even bother to go through my usual presto-change-o. I didn’t have time. I just grabbed my duffel bag and bit my lip as I rushed out of the side door and braved my way through that frightful alley, still in my outrageous Mimosa getup.

  I just wanted to get outta there before Dandre or Helmut had a chance to find me. I could always change my clothes later at Misty and Rick’s.

  “So what’s the matter?” Misty asked over a hot cup of coffee.

  We were sitting on the bed in their room. She was in the middle of the mattress, facing me. Rick was in the den checking out the Giants game.

  I was leaning back against the pillows, my feet tucked up under me. I had changed out of my costume, and was in some jeans and an oversized gray sweatshirt. I had stripped my face of any trace of makeup.

  I cradled a cup of coffee damn near bigger than my whole head. Misty’s was straight java. Mine had enough cognac in it to choke a cheetah.

  “Girl,” I said evenly, staring her straight in the eye, “I think I’m a hoe.”

  Misty burst out laughing, almost wasting her coffee.

  “Reesy, quit playing!” she sputtered. “You almost made me scald myself!”

  I kept staring at her, my gaze unwavering.

  Misty wiped a touch of coffee from her leg, looking up at me, surprised that I hadn’t joined in her laughter.

  Her expression froze when she saw that I didn’t find it funny.

  “Oh my God, girl! You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am. I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

  She took a sip of coffee, her eyes peering curiously at me over the rim.

  “Okay,” she said, after taking a swallow, “talk to me.”

  I sighed and took a swig of my industrial-strength drink.

  “Just what I said,” I replied finally. “I think I’m a hoe. I seriously think there’s something wrong my libido and, maybe, my sta
te of mind.”

  “I don’t understand what you’re talking about, Reesy. This is the most stable I’ve ever seen you. I mean, you’re in a serious relationship with Dandre.”

  “Am I?”

  “What do you mean? Things aren’t going well between you guys or something? I thought you two were a perfect pair.”

  I exhaled a gust of wind that burned my tongue as it blew out.

  “Whatever,” I replied dismissively. “And what do you mean by this is the most stable you’ve seen me? You act like I’ve been acting like a hoe all along.”

  Misty reached over and touched my hand.

  “No, baby, that’s not what I mean.” She had a funny little semi-smile on her face. “But you know how you always used to make me so nervous, the way you’d just go out there and pick up a hardhead in a heartbeat. Look at that guy Donovan. And remember that guy you brought back to our place that time? The one with the black booty and the Joe Boxer drawers?”

  I sat there, quiet, thinking about it. She was referring to the night I got upset about all the trouble at Burch, and went out and picked up this roughneck and brought him home.

  But it wasn’t like he had been a total stranger. I mean, I had seen him around a time or two when Misty and I first moved to the city. We had even conversed on the casual a few times. So when the urge finally needed some closure, I just went out and tracked him down. Homeboy had long given me the digits to access him.

  “Well, his booty wasn’t the only thing that was black.”

  “Oooh, child!” she laughed.

  Misty kept on talking as I took another sip of my coffgnac.

  “Think about it,” she said. “Since you’ve been here, you’ve been with that guy you brought home that night, and then Donovan, and now Dandre. At least, those are the only ones I know about.”

  “That’s all there’ve been,” I countered.

  “Okay,” Misty replied. “And while that’s not a whole heap of men, it’s way more than I’ve been with, total, in the past five years. You’ve always been unihibited. I’m much too scared to be out there swinging it like that.”

  “Scared of what?” I mumbled, letting the swinging it remark go by without comment.

  “AIDS,” Misty exclaimed. “It’s a different day and age, girl!! We’ve had this conversation too many times! You just don’t mess around like that.”

  “You know I practice safe sex, and I get tested every six months.”