Black Beauty

by Erica Hilton

  “I love you,” she said.

  “I love you too, baby,” he said.

  It was approaching midnight, but things started to really heat up with them on the couch. Mateo cupped her breast and caressed her butt, and their tongues wrestled, fighting for dominance. The movie was now watching them. Chanel wanted to take things to the bedroom. She wanted to know what sex felt like—to feel him inside of her.

  They had been together for months and their conversation was still strong like they’d met yesterday. They were getting to know each other really well. Chanel felt like tonight she could take things to the next step. She could finally exhale and breathe.

  He unbuttoned her shirt and she thought, This is it.

  But then, Mateo pulled away from her, and their passionate moment came to a halt.

  “Baby, what’s wrong?” she said.

  “I need to take you home,” he said.

  “Take me home! Why?” Chanel lamented.

  “It’s getting late.”

  “I don’t want to go home. I want to stay the night with you. I want to be with you, Mateo, not home!” she exclaimed.

  “Chanel, just chill—”

  “No, fuck that! What is really going on, Mateo? We sitting here on the couch making out, you groping me, and I’m finally ready to have sex with you, and you want to take me home!” she shouted.

  “Baby, calm down.”

  “Don’t tell me to calm down! Are you fuckin’ some other bitch?”

  “What? No,” he lied. He was still seeing a couple of jump-offs.

  “You told me that you would never fuckin’ lie to me! So don’t!”

  “Baby, listen.” He tried to reach out to grab her, but Chanel angrily pushed him away. She didn’t want him to touch her right now.

  “You got my heart, Chanel, and you will always have my heart.”

  “Then why don’t you want to have sex with me? Why do you always want to take me home, huh? Explain that shit to me, Mateo!”

  Mateo took a deep breath. “It’s . . . it’s complicated,” he stammered.

  “Then don’t make it fuckin’ complicated,” she cursed. Chanel found herself sounding like Bacardi with so much cursing.

  “I love you, Chanel. I love you too much,” he admitted wholeheartedly.

  By now, Chanel had some tears trickling down her face. She was in love, and the last thing she wanted was to be hurt by the man she loved. Regardless, she simply wanted the truth from him.

  “Look, I’ve been with a lot of women, baby. A lot,” he said. “And you—you are special and so unique in my life that I don’t want to ruin a good thing,” he said.

  She sighed. Chanel had become an emotional wreck so fast. She continued to throw a jealous tantrum, and no matter how Mateo tried to appease her, she strongly felt that he wasn’t telling her the truth.

  She hollered, “You don’t want to have sex with me because you got an STD from some other bitch?”

  Mateo was shocked by the accusation. “What? No! I’m clean, baby, and I told you that I wasn’t having sex with anyone else.”

  “I just don’t understand you, Mateo. First, I don’t hear from you for months, and then you pop back into my life and give me this story about your ex-girlfriend and her fake pregnancy. And now you don’t want to make love to me and you don’t want me spending the night at your place. How do you think that makes me fuckin’ feel?”

  “I promise you, baby, I’ll make it up to you.”

  “No! If you gonna hurt me, then do it now and tell me the truth.”

  “It is the truth.”

  She didn’t believe him. That feeling of being betrayed was eating away inside of her. She didn’t want to hear it.

  “Fuck this and fuck you, Mateo. I’ll take an Uber,” she replied.

  Chanel quickly gathered her stuff and stormed off.

  Mateo gave chase behind her. “Chanel, why are you acting like this?”

  Chanel spun around with anger contorting her pretty face and she yelled, “Because I love you too much, Mateo. And if you gonna do me dirty, I rather find out right now.”

  “Beautiful, I promise you that I’m not doing you dirty,” he replied.

  They looked into each other’s faces. He seemed sincere. Damn. Chanel wanted to believe him.

  He drove her home that night, and still being somewhat upset with him, she got out of his SUV without giving him a kiss or telling him goodnight. She needed to be alone for a moment and think.

  Mateo sighed deeply and once again yelled, “I love you, Chanel.”

  She didn’t respond. She marched toward her project building without turning back to look at him or saying that she loved him too. Mateo sadly drove off.

  That night, Chanel could be heard crying from her bed. Claire, lying on the opposite side of the bedroom, slyly grinned at her sister’s grief, assuming that Mateo had broken up with Chanel. Now things could go back to normal in the household, with Chanel once again being the outcast.

  ***

  Chanel sat in silence and stared aimlessly out the window as the city bus navigated its way through the Brooklyn traffic. It was a sunny afternoon on a warm spring day, and she was on her way from school. She didn’t want to think about Mateo, but she thought about him all the time. She missed him. It had been a week since their argument and he was calling her every day to apologize for his actions. Chanel wanted to be stubborn for a moment. She proclaimed to Mateo that she needed time to think.

  The bus traveled down Ralph Avenue and approached the next stop, where she would get off. She was shocked to see Mateo’s pearl white Range Rover parked near the bus stop.

  She stepped off the bus and Mateo climbed out of the SUV and approached her with a wide, bright smile and clutching some colorful flowers in his hands. Chanel was surprised by his unexpected presence, but she looked at him deadpan. He always had a knack for finding her at the right place at the right time. She remembered not giving him her apartment number inside the building, and yet he and Pyro were knocking on her door on one of the coldest days of the year.

  “Are you stalking me?” she joked.

  “I missed you, and I had to see you,” he said.

  He handed her the flowers and she happily accepted them. “I missed you too.”

  “Can we go for a ride somewhere?” he asked her.

  After a brief hesitation she said, “Sure.”

  Always the gentleman, Mateo escorted her to the SUV and opened the passenger door for her. Chanel slid inside with a lot of eyes watching her from afar, seeing her being courted by the young and handsome Hispanic male with the nice truck. Some of those eyes were envious.

  Mateo started the vehicle and drove away from the area. Chanel always felt like a queen inside his white chariot. Where is he taking me? But she didn’t really care. Being with him again felt good.

  Mateo drove to the nearby park. He liked parks. He told her that they were always a relaxing place for him—the greenery, the playgrounds, and the kids. Parks were temporary escapes from the bustling cities.

  They went for a walk around a trail that neighbored a small pond and talked. Mateo was very apologetic. He wanted her to forgive him about the other day, but she already had. Mateo took her hand in his. Every time they touched, there was a spark between them.

  “There is no one else, Chanel, and there will never be—not now and not in the future,” he said.

  “Why don’t you want to have sex with me?” she asked.

  They stopped walking and he looked at her with deep love and concern. “Because you’re the purest thing I have ever been with. And-and, I don’t want to treat you like all the other women I’ve been with—like you’re some whore, because you’re not. You’re ready to give me your virginity and I truly respect that, Chanel. You’re giving me something special, and I want to give you so
mething special in return.”

  Suddenly, Chanel found Mateo bending a knee in front of her, his hand still in hers. She looked at him with some alarm and astonishment. “Baby, what you are doing?”

  She kept her eyes on him and his eyes were locked on her. Is he doing what I think he’s doing? she asked herself.

  “Chanel, you’re the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on, and I fell in love with you swiftly, and I know you love me for who I am, and . . .” he paused for a moment and reached into his inner jacket pocket and removed a black velvet case. Chanel couldn’t take her eyes off of him. He opened the case to reveal a rose gold, 5-carat diamond engagement ring.

  He continued with, “Will you marry me, Chanel? I want you to become my wife.”

  Chanel stood there with her mouth open. “Mateo,” she uttered in amazement.

  “Say yes, beautiful, and I promise to always take care of you. You’re willing to give me your virginity and I’m willing to give you my last name and make your very first experience count. It’s my special thing for you.”

  No other nigga would have done this. They would have probably fucked her and used her. But Mateo wasn’t an ordinary dude.

  “Of course I’ll marry you,” Chanel excitedly accepted.

  Mateo smiled so big that he got his ears wet. He slid the engagement ring on her finger and it was a perfect fit. How did he get that right? But her man was always full of surprises. Mateo finally stood up from his knee and Chanel threw herself into his arms and they kissed so passionately that things almost became X-rated in the park.

  It was hard for them to pull away from each other. Their love was strong and Mateo wanted to show the world how much he loved Chanel. He wanted the young girl to become his wife. He didn’t want to lose her.

  “Listen, baby, I want us to get married on your eighteenth birthday, on June twenty-fourth,” he said.

  “Seriously?”

  “It’ll be my birthday gift to you. Marriage.”

  Chanel was completely overwhelmed. Her birthday was in two months. There was a lot to do, many arrangements to make, and of course Mecca was going to be her maid of honor.

  “I have another surprise for you,” said Mateo.

  Chanel wasn’t sure if she could take any more surprises from him. She was becoming inundated with happiness. It was already the perfect day, so how could Mateo make it any more perfect? But knowing him, he could.

  They walked hand-in-hand out of the park and back to his Range Rover. Chanel was floating on cloud nine the entire time. From her view, she could see everything and it was so beautiful—sprawling blue skies and bright sunshine. There was no way she was going to come down from the cloud. Being so high above everything else with Mateo, she felt so safe and secure and far away from all the bullshit and drama.

  He drove her to a dealership in Queens. She had no idea why she was in Queens. That borough was definitely foreign territory for her. All Chanel knew was Brooklyn and Harlem, and some of the Bronx, thanks to Mateo.

  And why were they at a dealership?

  Mateo was close with the owner of the dealership. He was an affable white male in his early forties named Michael. He approached Mateo’s Range with a smile and introduced himself to Chanel.

  “So, this is the lucky lady, huh?” He shook Chanel’s hand and added, “Mateo tells me a lot about you. Now I see why he’s willing to go all out for you. Congratulations.”

  Chanel smiled.

  “Beautiful, come out the car. I want to show you something,” Mateo said.

  Chanel coolly climbed out of the car and she was still soaring high. Mateo and Michael guided her through the car lot where there were a lot of nice cars for sale, Beamers, Benzes, Jags, and SUVs. Mateo led her toward a pearl colored Range Rover Sport that sat in the rear of the lot. It had a bright red bow on the hood of the trunk. Mateo pointed to it and said, “It’s yours, baby.”

  Chanel didn’t know what to think.

  “What? What you mean, Mateo?”

  “That’s your new car.”

  “But Mateo, I don’t even have my license.”

  “You got your permit, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “So we’ll work on getting your license. And I trust you in driving because you drove my truck plenty of times. And you having your own ride saves me from not having to drive to the projects all the time,” he said.

  “Ohmygod, Mateo, you’re gonna spoil me. I don’t deserve all—”

  Before she completed her sentence, he approached her and softly placed his index finger against her lips. “Shhhh . . . you deserve it all, beautiful, especially after everything your family put you through.”

  Chanel could feel her eyes welling up with happy tears.

  “I got you, beautiful, and I always will. I promise you that. Just enjoy it, Chanel.”

  She took a deep breath and smiled as one of the tears escaped. In one day, she was engaged with a giant rock on her finger and she had a brand new car.

  Although Mateo would occasionally hit her family off with some money, once he was married to Chanel, he planned on excluding them from their lives completely. The generosity was a ploy to keep the peace between Chanel and her family after all the horror stories she’d told him. Bacardi was a greedy bitch, and he wanted that bitch to enjoy it while it lasted, because in two months, they were going to get married on her birthday and then he planned on flying them off to Hawaii for their honeymoon.

  Mateo wanted to fulfill her wish and marry her as a virgin.

  ***

  The diamond engagement ring and the new Range Rover Sport that Chanel had were all too much for Claire and Charlie to take. Overnight, it appeared that Chanel had hit the jackpot—a man with money who loved her, and she was getting married on her birthday.

  Bacardi was over-the-moon. Chanel marrying Mateo meant a step up for the family too, she assumed. She was already treating him like he was her own son, and now it was about to become cemented.

  Charlie felt the opposite. It bothered her that her little sister was getting all the attention from the family, and that Chanel had a baller to take care of her while her man was still locked up. It bothered Charlie that Chanel now had better things than her. That bitch had a Range Rover Sport to drive around in, and she didn’t even have her license. The envy ate away at Charlie.

  Now Charlie had to go to the extreme to help get God out of Rikers Island. She decided to pawn everything she had to make that happen—because now, her ugly duckling of a little sister was becoming that bitch.

  God and Fingers were going back and forth to court, and their lawyer was able to get their bail reduced to a lower amount, which meant that Charlie could get the both of them out. But she had to go to some extreme measures to raise the money, because pawning her shit wasn’t quite enough. So, unbeknownst to God, she started to dance in some shady clubs and perform sexual favors to raise the rest of the bail money. It was a degrading act, and Charlie had hit an all time low, especially now that her little sister was soaring high with material things and respect.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chanel, this dress is almost fifteen thousand dollars! Are you serious? You really wanna pay fifteen grand for a wedding dress?” Mecca asked.

  “Mateo said whatever I want, I can get, and it’s gonna be my special day,” Chanel said.

  “But damn, fifteen stacks for something you’re only gonna wear once?”

  Chanel smiled. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Mecca’s furrowed brow softened a touch. “I mean, it is . . .”

  “I can’t wait, Mecca. I’m getting married!”

  Mecca smiled. “And I’m happy for you, girl. You deserve to be happy.”

  Chanel did a graceful twirl in the wedding dress she was trying on and stared at her image in the long mirror. It was beautiful. It was
a Monique Lhuillier wedding gown, in all white to signify her purity.

  The two were inside Kleinfeld Bridal located on 20th Street in Manhattan. It was an upscale bridal boutique, and the woman helping them eyed them suspiciously and wondered how such a young girl could afford such an expensive wedding dress.

  Mecca was happy for her friend and the fact that she was doing it the right way, although she wasn’t too pleased about her friend spending a small fortune on a dress. She eyed Chanel in her white, flowing gown. Her friend was so breathtaking—so beautiful.

  Chanel turned and beamed toward the saleslady, a middle-aged Caucasian woman who seemed snobbish at first, but lightened her mood when she knew the girls were serious about purchasing the dress.

  “I’ll take it,” Chanel said wholeheartedly.

  “Perfect!” said the saleswoman. “And how will you be paying?”

  Chanel handed the woman a credit card with a fifty-thousand-dollar limit. It belonged to Mateo.

  “It’s my fiancé. He’s spoiling me rotten,” she said.

  The woman smiled and replied, “Whatever makes the misses happy. Happy wife, happy life.”

  “Yes. We’re going to have a very happy life. We’re getting married on my birthday next month.”

  “Well, congratulations. I’m sure it will be a beautiful wedding.”

  The purchase went through and Chanel and Mecca walked out of the upscale boutique with a very expensive dress.

  “Where are you gonna keep the dress, Chanel? I know you’re not about to take it back to your mama’s place.”

  “No. I was hoping that maybe you could hold it for me at your place until the wedding,” Chanel said.

  “Of course, girl. I got you. I’ll put it in the closet and it will be safe there.”

  Chanel was grateful.

  Originally, Mateo and Chanel were going to get married at the Justice of Peace, but things changed. Mateo wanted to give his queen a small and intimate ceremony. Chanel left Landy numerous unanswered telephone calls because she wanted her there. Mecca was going to be her maid of honor, and Pyro was going to be the best man. The whole thing would take place in Hawaii, where they would have their honeymoon too.