A Price to Pay for Everything

by Kameisha Jenkins

  “Kiss my ass. Not everybody can afford that Euro trash shit in your place. Can’t even sit on it. A ten thousand dollar couch and you can’t even sit on. What sense does that make?” Natalie responded.

  “Oh, the poor and repressed. It is a sofa…not a couch. That is what you have. You wouldn’t know taste if it was rammed down your throat. I am FAB-U-LOUS and everything I own is an extension of me. What the hell does a stained brown ottoman say about you? I’ll tell you what it says: Load up on some triple A batteries cause you’re gonna need it!”

  “What part of kiss my ass did you not understand? I own my home, thank you very fucking much. I have the American dream…”

  “Well your ass needs to wake up and hire an interior designer ‘cause this shit is depressing. You know I have a friend who…”

  “Oh, hell no! Not another one of your temperamental little bitch boys in my house. The last person you referred to me painted my room teal. What the fuck matches teal? Sorry, brah, but I will stick to Pier 1.”

  “Pier 1 is so ghettry.”

  Ghettry was the term the two adopted to describe something that was ghetto and country.

  “At least I can afford it.” Natalie added with selective venom that she hid with her laughter.

  “What the fuck ever.” Eric said as he rolled his eyes at his sister’s loaded comment.

  Natalie emerged with a camel colored leather skirt, matching boots and a black angora sweater that rested off of her shoulders.

  “That’s what you should have looked like the first time.” Eric said as he nodded in approval of his sister’s chic outfit.

  “Yeah, I know. It’s too bad that you look like Barney on crack in that purple people eater shirt.” Natalie said as she chuckled and wrapped herself in a black cashmere pashmina.

  “Okay, that’s it. First of all, bitch, the color is amethyst, and second…you know what, forget it. Let’s just get out of here before the furniture eats me.”

  Natalie turned off all of the lights in her house except the hall light and locked the door behind them. The two entered the car and Natalie immediately turned on the radio. The rapper Fifty Cents was the first sound that they heard telling his audience that they could find him in the club with a pocket full of dubs. Both listeners bobbed their heads to the catchy club beat.

  As Natalie headed down the street, she reminded herself that she took her medication before she left. This subsequently meant that she could not drink anything alcoholic. The song eventually ended and the DJ came on to announce a slew of parties for the upcoming weekend. This made Eric and Natalie uncomfortable and their silence affirmed their collective despair about impending doom this weekend offered. Natalie attempted to be upbeat, nonetheless and attempted to disrupt the silence.

  “So, you ready to see your new nephew, Lavonte?”

  Eric grimaced and answered, “Yep, him and the rest of the children of the corn. And why in the hell did Tanya name that boy after a cheap assed car? Damn, that girl wouldn’t know class if they was giving it away at the Safeway.”

  “You didn’t tell momma about me being in the hospital, did you?” Natalie asked, clearly concerned.

  “Girl…and risk having an exorcism when we get there? Look, I might be a lot of things, but stupid aint one. And speaking of going, you got me on the airline ticket, right sis?” Natalie stretched her eyes in disbelief.

  “Negro what?! You mean to tell me you don’t have enough in your little stash to pay for your damned plane ticket? What about one of your ‘associates’?”

  “Bitch, this ‘aint no E. Lynn Harris book and I don’t have no rich lover who can fly me all over the place. These children are out there struggling just like everybody else. They just happen to struggle with finesse.”

  “Well, finesse or not, you better sell some of those clothes, ‘cause I am not paying for your ticket. How ‘bout that?” Natalie added stress to the latter statement more for herself than her brother. Eric knew his sister well enough to know that she would pay for the ticket so didn’t see the need to continue to fight a battle that he already won.

  Natalie glanced at her brother as she awaited a smart response. When there was none, she became nervous and quickly sparked another conversation.

  “You’re gonna’ like this place. I hear there are a lot of influential black people that hang out here. Two players from the Houston Oilers own it. It’s got a laid back, upscale feel. Like Justin’s in Atlanta.”

  “How did YOU hear about it? That doesn’t sound like your type of place.”

  “Elise brought me here for my birthday one year, and I come by every now and then to check it out. Why?”

  “Because I know that if the chitlins’ to chardonnay ratio is too high, your ass won’t return.”

  They both chuckled at Natalie’s notoriety for frequenting restaurants that don’t host a large black crowd.

  “You make it sound like I don’t like black people or something.”

  “Well if the Manolos fit…”

  “Whatever. I can party with the best of them. I just prefer to be in the company of those who don’t think that an exotic drink is a forty ounce with a cherry in it.”

  As the two continued effortless banter about the party scene, they approached the circular driveway of the bistro. Natalie felt a sudden rush of apprehension and began to grip the steering wheel of her BMW tightly. Just as she was about to suggest that they go home, Eric smiled at the approaching valet attendants.

  “Ooh, this IS nice. You know you have arrived when you got little white boys waiting on you hand and foot.”

  Natalie smiled and relaxed as they exited the car and watched it disappear down the street. Almost as if they were cued, the live band began to play their rendition of “Happy Feelings” by Frankie Beverly and Maze when Eric and Natalie entered. Ornate wall sconces of polished jade stones lined the walls. The darkness of the stones against the backlighting gave an intimate appeal to the eatery. The hardwood floors were dark cherry wood and polished brilliantly. All kinds of tasteful oversized artwork framed the cranberry colored walls. The most notable feature of the establishment was the floor to ceiling frame windows that hosted window seats large enough to seat three people. Tasteful tapestry of reds, burnt orange, and browns were sprinkled through out the room. The bar was an amalgamation of diamond cut glass and marble.

  The crowd was a sophisticated mixture of blacks, browns, and the occasional peach. They schmoozed as they sipped champagne with blackberry currants, cosmopolitans, bleach blondes, ad of course, personal bottles of Moet Chandon. They all clutched their drinks mercilessly as they offered complementary chuckles and shared conversations about everything from mutual funds to the benefit’s of Barack Obama’s likely succession to the white house.

  Eric quickly found someone who shared his verve for fashion and shared a drink with the meticulously coiffed gentleman. The fact that he seemed to drip money from his fingertips added a welcomed incentive to Eric.

  Natalie was quickly bored by their comparison of Robert Cavali to the more classic and clean lines of Kenneth Cole. She found herself drifting from corner to corner of the large great room. She settled near the 6 foot, intricately carved marble fireplace and quietly observed the conversations and business deals happening around her. She sipped on cranberry juice and watched people watching everyone else. She moved from side to side as the band played a mellow version of “Sumthin, Sumthin” by Maxwell. She thought about how it would be nice to move rhythmically in the arms of a strong someone for the night. Secretly, she longed for the feel of a man and desperately missed the feeling of being desired, even if only for one night. Almost as if God had instantly granted her wish, she felt the warmth of someone standing behind her.

  “Enjoying yourself?” An undeniably deep male voice inquired.

  Natalie turned around slowly to find Heath Anderson staring at her. His rich rust colored cashmere v-neck sweater competed with his bronze colored skin. His decision to wear chocolate color
ed slacks seemed sensible for the atmosphere. The perfectly curled brown and auburn ringlets framed his face that was now not as closely shaved as Natalie remembered from their meeting at Smith Line.

  Natalie forced herself to focus on her words and not on the Greek Adonis standing before her.

  “Actually, I am. This is a really hot spot.”

  “You look really nice. We must have been thinking the same thing when we left the house. Gotta’ love cashmere, so soft against the skin. ” Heath said as he gently touched Natalie’s scarf.

  Looking down nervously, Natalie’s only reply was “Yep, must have been.”

  There was a cool silence between the two as Natalie suddenly regretted that she had not called Heath once since he gave her his phone number over four weeks ago.

  “So, how have you been? I heard that you LEFT Smith Line. I can’t say that I was surprised. They are a bunch of racist jerks over there anyway.” Natalie appreciated his play on words, despite his knowledge of the truth.

  “Well, sometimes you have to cut your losses. I guess I was too… I don’t know, too honest for them.”

  “Unlike us sleazy lawyers, right?” Heath asked with a devilish smile.

  Natalie’s discomfort surfaced and distorted her face. “Relax, I’m joking. Don’t take me seriously. Really.” Heath attempted to put her at ease.

  “I knew that. I actually never classified you as one of the sleazier lawyers there. You seemed to be the only one to have the balls to stand up to Tom. Now, you talk about sleazy and underhanded…”

  “You don’t have to tell me that. I work for the asshole.”

  “Lucky you. At least you are on still on the payroll.”

  “Listen, you didn’t let them sever your contract without paying it out, did you?” Heath instantly wished that he could pull his words into his mouth.

  Natalie smiled at his inability to mask his embarrassment. Natalie attempted to console him.

  “So much for corporate discretion. I know you knew how messy things got with them. When they sent my confidentiality contract, I refused to sign. After thinking about it for a little while, I decided to take my money and run.”

  “If I’m not being too intrusive, can I ask you how much you ran away with?”

  Natalie was thrown off by Heath’s interest in her settlement. She wondered if he was sent by Smith Line to provoke her in breaking her contractual agreemeof confidentiality. She glanced up at his olive colored face and decided to trust him.

  “About ten, the agreed upon retainer. I didn’t break the bank, but it was a nice piece of cash to forget about the whole thing.”

  Heath’s face grew distorted as Natalie revealed the pay off.

  “Oh, well, okay then.” Heath said as he stared into his vodka and tonic, nervously.

  Natalie was growing hot from the fireplace and shifted her position away from the fire. She stood directly in front of Heath and instinctively sensed his apprehension.

  “Is there something wrong Heath?” Natalie asked as she touched his arm.

  The tension in Heath’s shoulders eased a little as they welcomed Natalie’s touch.

  “No, nothings wrong. It’s just that if you held out, I think you could have gotten a little more.”

  “You think?”

  “Alright, you know that I know, but I am a little nervous about divulging company information over a vodka and tonic.”

  Natalie sensed that the conversation had lost it’s intimacy and was moving toward an awkward place that made the hairs on her neck stand on end. A familiar silence returned as they both mentally searched for ways out of their conversational abyss.

  Heath made the proverbial first move.

  “Where are my manners, can I refresh your drink? What’s that a cosmopolitan?”

  “Well, it is if you hold the vodka.” Natalie replied as she moved the small straw around in the ice.

  “Conservative drinker, huh? I can appreciate that in a woman. Cranberry juice it is.”

  Heath disappeared into the crowd and Natalie watched him walk away. She also noticed the distasteful stares of black men who hadn’t given her a second glance when she first walked in. She returned their looks of betrayal with a sly smile and decided that she would savor the attention that she held for the moment. She smoothed her hair back behind her ears seductively like she had seen actresses on TV master. It always made them look demure and approachable. She had hoped that it did the same thing for her.

  She managed eye contact with a tall brother that seemed interested, but decided to play the elusive role. Natalie wasn’t sure that she wanted to play along. She could tell that he was accustomed to the attention because there were several women vying for his attention. He gave a respectful nod in Natalie’s direction. The diamond encrusted basketball hanging from an oversized platinum necklace made his neck look strained and unsteady. Natalie decided that she didn’t want to be another stallion in his stable and turned her back to the Cristal drinking pseudo celebrity. She never understood why athletes felt it necessary to drape themselves in the gaudiest jewelry. The Roca Wear sweat suit he wore was loud and intended to announce his affluence. It, too, was oversized. ‘Why would a six foot nine man need to have clothing that was obviously too large for him?’ She thought as she eyed him curiously.

  She then noticed the man approach Heath. The two were immediately engulfed in conversation as they moved away from the crowd. Natalie reasoned that Heath was probably helping him out of some paternity mess that seemed to frequently plague athletes. The two spoke with the ease of familiarity that did not resemble the relationship that an overpaid athlete had with his attorney.

  Natalie couldn’t help but notice all of the black women that suddenly developed an interest in Heath. Perhaps his association with a wealthy ball player contributed to his new found popularity. She refused to conform to the predictable behavior.

  While scanning the room for Eric, Natalie saw a group of four women enter the eatery. With oversized rocks dominating their fingers, the women gracefully moved about the club with a well rehearsed, if not synchronized, sense of entitlement. They were the players’ wives. As they headed towards the VIP section they flashed dismissive looks at the other women in the club and laughed at corny jokes that y made amongst each other.

  One particularly petite wife had flair about her that separated her from the other women. She was clearly the leader of the pack. A very eclectic mix of African American and Asian lineage afforded her an exotic look that defied normalcy. She had her hair pulled into a tight pony tail that draped down her petite back. Her tanned skin seemed to make her surroundings appear drab and lifeless. Even with her Jimmy Choo stilettos, she was the shortest and from her lightly muscled body, most well maintained. As she entered the VIP area, the women looked on with measured envy, the men with poorly veiled desire. Her eyes met Heath’s and she quickly diverted them, like she did not want anyone to detect their clandestine connection. Natalie made a mental note that Heath had a penchant for women of color and decided that she would purchase a gym membership first thing in the morning. Just in case their little “thing” turned into more. She would have to compete with women like that and she wasn’t about to come up short.

  Natalie mentally envisioned herself as his wife and the world that it would offer. Glitzy parties, ball players and entertainers frequenting her home, vacationing on yachts in exotic countries. She quickly dismissed it as she pondered the infidelity and inevitable paternity suits that wives of prominent men were subjected to. “I’ll pass.” Natalie mumbled to herself as she continued to scan the room.

  “Talking to your invisible man again?” Eric asked, chuckling as he emerged from behind his sister’s back. He was clearly tipsy from the alcohol. His eyes were now reddened.

  Natalie knew that he had found someone that he could “relate” to. She waited for what she knew was coming next.

  Eric cleared his throat. “So you gonna be alright if I leave with a couple of friends?” Er
ic asked while looking at two men who could be models in GQ.

  “Sounds like you already made up your mind. Boy, you don’t even know them. They could be killers or something.” Natalie attempted to reason with her sedate brother.

  He laughed and waved it off.

  Heath eyed the exchange her from a distance though he was in the midst of a very involved conversation with the ball player. It made Natalie blush.

  Eric waived at his waiting buddies and told Natalie that they were gonna party at a males only club in downtown Houston and a few other late night spots. Natalie shook her head as Eric mused about how much money the guys dropped in the eatery on champagne and food. Natalie interrupted his monologue with a relevant question.

  “So how you gonna get home?”

  Eric appeared unaffected.

  “I’ll get there. You just make sure that you have your phone on in case I have to call. You don’t know what kinds of tricks these fools might have up their sleeves.” Eric smiled devilishly.

  “I thought that was what you liked.” Natalie hissed.

  “Whatever! You are such a fake assed Mary Poppins. At least one of us should see some dick tonight.”

  As the two coordinated where she would leave the spare key outside of the house, Heath walked up behind Natalie. While not territorial, he was careful to make his presence know.

  Eric’s eyes stretched as far as the cannabis he had just smoked would allow. Instinctively, Natalie turned around to see what the distraction was. When she laid eyes on Heath, he radiated a glow that was indescribable. It was like passion mixed with anticipation. It looked like he wasn’t sure if jealousy was the right reaction, but he was at the brink of it. He bit his bottom lip just slightly. It made Natalie’s body quiver with electricity. The energy that flowed through his eyes was being transmitted to her. She recognized this and did her best to conceal the attraction.

  “Oh, you’re done with your talk. Is everything okay?” Natalie asked wondering if he his jealousy made him forget her drink.