Mildred had been working the hell out of those Kegel balls Chevy had given her, and it was paying off nicely.
She constricted her muscles.
“Aaah, stop it—you're going to make me come.”
Tony pulled out a bit, raised himself up onto his arms, and gazed down at her. “I'm so glad you're here,” he said before sinking into her again.
Mildred closed her eyes and began to grind her hips against him. She dug her finger into his waist, pulling him deeper.
They were both slick with perspiration by the time he started to approach his climax. He lunged into her with passionate fury. Sensing the approaching explosion, Mildred wrapped her legs around his back.
“I'm coming, baby, I'm coming,” Tony screamed before his entire body exploded in convulsions.
Afterward, as they lay there basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking, Tony placed a gentle kiss on her cheek before climbing out of the bed and walking to the bathroom.
Mildred threw her arm over her forehead and gazed up at the whirling blades of the ceiling fan.
This would be so perfect, she thought to herself, if it wasn't so fucked up.
Tony reentered the room, his limp penis bouncing against his strong thigh. Coming to sit alongside her again, he took her hand in his, kissed her palm, her wrist, and then began to kiss the tips of her fingers.
Mildred watched him with quiet satisfaction. This is what real love looked like, felt like.
She closed her eyes as he gently sucked each of her fingers. She thoroughly enjoyed the eroticism of it.
As casually as he started, he stopped, and Mildred opened her eyes to see a sparkling diamond ring on her finger.
She was speechless.
“Karma, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” Tony's voice quaked. He moved from the bed and then got down onto his knees. Mildred raised herself up and into a sitting position as Tony gently rested his head on her stomach.
It should have been the sweetest moment in her life, but it was marred by the memory of his words: She looked like a pig on steroids!
Mildred's lips curled. “There's nothing in the world I would want more.”
CHAPTER
Sixty-two
Tony opened the medicine cabinet and his eyes fell on his shaving cream, a box of Tylenol, and the bottle of prenatal pills. Closing the cabinet, he was met with his mirror image.
The mirror Tony grinned foolishly back at him.
“Baby?” Mildred called to him from the bedroom. “Do you need me to make you something before you go?”
They'd been living together for a month now and Mildred had gotten through her first menstrual cycle with tampons she kept hidden deep inside the box of laundry detergent. For the five days she bled, she claimed morning, afternoon, and evening sickness in order to keep him off her.
While Tony was out supervising the operation of his Jet Skis, Mildred spent her time spending the money she had helped him steal. She was planning the most fabulous wedding the island had ever seen. They'd already booked the prestigious Sandy Lane Hotel, the same hotel where Tiger Woods had had his wedding.
Rock lobster, escargots, and caviar for the cocktail reception. A live band and horse-drawn carriage.
“A cup of tea?”
“Nah, I'm good,” Tony called back as he reached in and started the shower.
She was already being the good wife. She waited on him hand and foot, laughed at all of his jokes, cooked fabulous meals for him, fucked him long and hard, and showered him with unconditional love.
Tony felt like he'd hit the jackpot.
And for the icing on the cake, the contractor had called just that morning to advise him that he and his team were ahead of schedule.
Could things get any better?
Later that day, as Mildred and Chevy finished up their lunch, Chevy looked deep into her glass of iced tea as she pondered Mildred's next move. She didn't know if Tony trusted Mildred enough to go along with it.
Mildred had told Tony that she'd been in touch with her parents to tell them of her impending wedding and that even though she was estranged from them she was willing—for the sake of her new husband and unborn child—to try to work things out. During the conversation, her father had shared some confidential information with her, some information that would make them all rich. The investment was a mere $200,000, and the return would more than double within thirty days.
That last little tidbit had gotten Tony salivating.
“That's a lot of money to just hand over to someone you've never met before. Wouldn't he want to talk to your father first, to get the particulars?”
“Yeah, he did say he wanted to speak to him,” Mildred said as her eyes roamed around the restaurant, as if seeking out someone right there who would carry out that part of the plan for her.
“Let me think about it and I'll call you later on tonight, okay?” Chevy announced as she stared off into the distance.
Mildred nodded.
CHAPTER
Sixty-three
Hello?”
“Noah?”
“Chevy?”
“Yep!”
“Well, Ms. Drama! How the hell are you?”
Noah's clipped Brooklyn-British accent echoed across the telephone line. The friendship between Chevy, Geneva, and Noah went back decades, back to a time when they all lived in an Upper West Side housing project. Now Noah lived in London with his partner, Zahn, and daughter, Destiny.
“If I complain, will you listen?” Chevy laughed into the phone.
“Probably not!” Noah exclaimed. “But I know you, Ms. Drama—it's not like you to make a long-distance call just to say hello. You're an e-mail type of girl, so let's cut through the bullshit and get down to the real shit, shall we?”
Chevy could hear Noah snapping his fingers in the background, and she imagined the snapping fingers were probably accompanied by a dramatic neck roll as well.
“Okay, Noah, you got me,” Chevy allowed. “I need a favor.”
“I ain't got no money—”
“I don't need any money, Noah. I need—”
“Good, because I got one child, not two, and—”
“Noah!”
“Look, Ms. Drama, don't be raising your voice at me—”
“Noah, please, will you let me speak? This is my dime, you know?”
Noah was silent for a minute.
“Well, go on, speak!”
“Okay . . .”
Chevy gave Noah the abridged version of what had happened, what was happening, and what they wanted to happen.
Noah laughed long and hard, and then he said, “I don't know, Miss Drama. That can't be good karma for me—excuse my pun.” Noah giggled.
“Aw, c'mon, Noah,” Chevy whined into the phone.
“Why should I?”
“Because we're friends.”
“Yeah, you and I are friends. I don't know this Mildred chick from Adam!”
Chevy bit her lip. “But she's my friend, and Geneva's friend, which makes her your friend by association.”
“That's all you could come up with?”
Chevy knew it was pitiful.
“Please,” she said.
Noah released a heavy sigh.
“Will this be the last thing you ever ask me for?”
Chevy crossed her fingers. “Yes!”
Another sigh. “
Okay, then, give me the child's number. I'll call her tomorrow at this time.”
“Thank you, Noah.”
“Yeah, whatever. Now what is her pappy's name suppose to be again?”
CHAPTER
Sixty-four
Yes, sir.” Tony grinned and nodded with the phone as he paced the living room.
Mildred sat on the edge of the couch, her legs folded beneath her as she chewed nervously on the cuticle of her thumb.
“Yes, Mr. Jackson, I understand that this is confidential information . . .”
Chevy's friend Noah had be
en on the phone with Tony for nearly an hour. Mildred had watched anxiously as Tony listened intently to what Noah was saying, and every now and again he'd rush to the table and jot down notes on the legal pad he'd placed there earlier.
Mildred thought that at any moment Noah would say something off-center, something that would trigger Tony's suspicion, and the jig would be up. But that never happened.
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. It was a pleasure speaking to you too, sir, and I look forward to meeting you as well.”
Tony pressed End on the cordless phone before punching the air with his fist.
“Baby!” he cried ecstatically as he rushed toward Mildred and snatched her up, swinging her through the air. “We are going to be rich!”
He covered her face in kisses before setting her back down on the couch again. Looking down at his watch, he announced, “I gotta get down to the bank before it closes.”
Mildred almost felt sorry for him as she watched him snatch up his car keys and rush out of the house.
“I love you, baby!” Tony shouted over his shoulder before jumping into the car and speeding off.
Mildred almost felt sorry for him, but then she heard his voice in her head saying: She looked like a pig on steroids!
And that small bit of pity vanished like a puff of smoke.
Mildred was sitting outside on the veranda when she received the call from Chevy.
“Hello?”
“Well, it's done,” Chevy advised in a conspiratorial tone.
Mildred said nothing.
“Noah called to say the money hit his account early this morning.”
“Oh.”
“He's going to issue you a cashier's check for the amount.”
“How much was it again?”
“Two hundred thousand dollars.”
Mildred shook her head in dismay. The money didn't mean anything to her. She'd trade it all in a minute for true love.
“You're rich, girl!” Chevy squealed.
“I guess.” Mildred yawned.
CHAPTER
Sixty-five
Thirty days.
Thirty little days—that's all Tony would have to wait, and after those thirty days his two hundred Gs would multiply into half a million!
It was a sure thing, Karma's father, Mr. Jackson, had told him. The foreign currency market was usually a gamble, but this was a sure bet.
Tony didn't know anything about trading foreign currency, but he didn't need to. Karma's father was an expert, had made half of his fortune on the foreign currency market and had made the other half on the foreign currency black market!
Tony was on top of the world, and the pièce de résistance was just two days away. His wedding.
“It's almost one o'clock,” Mildred called from the living room. “If we don't leave now, we're going to be late.”
“Okay, babe,” Tony called back to her as he quickly dabbed some cologne onto his neck.
They were going to pick up Errol and Tony's mother from the airport. Mildred had been sick to her stomach all day. She really hadn't wanted to involve anyone else in this mess, but what was she going to tell Tony, “Don't invite your mother and best friend”?
His sister wasn't going to be able to make it, and that was just fine with Mildred. One less person she had to look in the eye and lie to.
At the airport, Mildred sat on a bench, sipping a ginger beer, while Tony paced the tiled floor of the Arrivals section.
It was obvious that he was bursting with excitement, and when he finally spotted his mother and Errol coming through the door, he bolted toward them. For a minute, Mildred thought he was going to leap into Errol's arms, but at the last moment he stopped short and threw his arms around him in a manly embrace.
He gave his mother a stiff hug and an awkward peck on the cheek before pulling her straw bag from her hands and starting off toward Mildred.
Mildred stood, smoothed her light blue linen skirt, and fixed her face with a bright smile.
Tony was babbling a mile a minute as he pointed proudly at Mildred. Mrs. Landry's face broke out into an approving smile, while Errol's expression was a mixture of bewilderment and . . . recognition?
“Mom, Errol,” Tony said, wrapping his arm around Mildred's shoulder, “this is Karma Jackson.”
Mrs. Landry's smile broadened as she shoved Tony aside and threw her beefy arms around Karma and squeezed. “Oh, child, so nice to finally meet you,” she said, and then stepped back. “What a beautiful woman you are.” She was beaming.
“Thank you,” Mildred said.
Errol stepped forward and presented his hand. “I concur,” he said as he eyed Mildred closely, “but why do I have the feeling we've met before?”
Mildred dropped her eyes. “I-I don't know. I guess I just have one of those faces.”
“Yeah, I felt that way too,” Tony said as he started toward the parked car.
They stopped in at the Blue Monkey to get a late lunch. Mildred had been quiet most of the trip from the airport. She and Tony's mother sat in the backseat, while Errol and Tony sat up front. Every now and again, Errol would turn around and gaze at her in a way that made Mildred uncomfortable. She was sure he knew and would blow the whistle on her at any second.
Now they sat across from one another, each of them devouring a Chicken Roti.
“So when is my grandbaby due?” Ethel Landry said as she gave Mildred's tummy an affectionate pat.
“Oh, not until February,” Mildred lied.
“Do you want a boy or a girl?”
“Doesn't matter—just as long as I have a healthy baby,” Mildred said, staring down at her plate.
“Well, if it's a boy, you'll have to name him Anthony Junior, of course!”
“Now, Mom, we'll name him whatever we decide to name him,” Tony intervened as he reached across the table and took Mildred's hand in his.
Ethel smirked and called for another beer.
“You're not staying here?” Mrs. Landry yawned on the living room couch after Mildred bent over and kissed her lightly on the cheek.
“No, I'm going to stay with my girlfriend until the wedding day.”
“Oh, no—are we putting you out?”
“No, no, of course not.” Mildred patted the woman's hand. “I'll see you on Saturday, okay?”
“Of course, dear.”
Errol was seated at the dining room table, flipping through the Nation newspaper. He looked up as Mildred rushed past him. “Hey, don't I get a goodbye?” he asked in an amused tone.
Mildred stalled, then turned and smiled. “Of course. I'm sorry, just real tired,” she said, and then bent down and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “See you Saturday.”
“Yeah, Saturday,” Errol said as he watched her walk out to the car. “Something's just not right,” Errol mumbled to himself.
“What was that, Errol?” Mrs. Landry called from the couch.
“Nothing.”
CHAPTER
Sixty-six
What's wrong with you?”
Mildred was sulking. Sitting in a chair in the corner of Chevy's room, she had her feet propped up on the edge of the windowsill, her arms folded across her breasts, and her lip stuck out like a five-year-old who had had her favorite toy taken away.
She'd gone over to the house that morning when she knew Errol, Tony, and his mother would be indulging themselves at the Sandy Lane Spa and gathered up the rest of her clothes. On the center of the bed she'd left a note, even though Chevy had advised against it.
“Snap out of it, girl,” Chevy cried, clapping her hands loudly together. “This is the pièce de résistance. This is what we—I mean, you—have worked so hard to accomplish.”
Mildred knew that was the truth, but it was still her wedding day, and she'd planned the perfect wedding! And maybe it wouldn't be affecting her so badly if the day hadn't turned out to be so beautiful. Not a cloud lingered in that pale blue sky.
“Don't you feel good?” Chevy screeched, throwing he
r hands in the air. “I know I feel great,” she added before doing a little victory dance across the room.
Mildred didn't feel good at all; she felt like she'd been cheated out of two weddings in one year. That had to be some kind of record.
“Whoo-wee,” Mildred cried unenthusiastically as she spun her index finger in the air.
Chevy shook her head. “C'mon, girl, let's get you to the airport.”
They weren't expecting many guests, just a few guys Tony had befriended and their significant others; Karma's parents, who were supposed to have flown in very late the night before; Tony's mother and Errol; and of course Chevy.
On the beach outside the Sandy Lane Hotel, twenty chairs laced in shimmering white toule awaited the thirty or so guests. A baby grand piano had been rolled out onto the beach, and Tony watched from the balcony of his hotel suite as the workers unfurled the lavender silk walkway.
“Are you nervous?” Errol asked, coming up beside him.
Tony shook his head. “I've never been more calm in my life,” he said, his voice filled with amazement.
“Wow, man. I never thought I'd see the day when you'd settle down.” Errol's voice was tinged with envy.
“Me neither, man, me neither,” Tony said as he turned and walked back inside.
He reached for the telephone. He just wanted to hear her voice before they said “I do.” He'd called three times and had only gotten voice mail at the hotel room as well as on her cell phone.
“Relax, man,” Errol said as he handed him a glass of champagne. “She'll be there.”
The sun was due to set at exactly 6:22 P.M., just as the preacher would instruct Tony to kiss his bride. It was 6:10 and Karma still had not made an appearance. Tony was beginning to feel sick to his stomach, but he smiled assuredly at his guests, who were fidgeting in their seats.
“She'll be here,” Tony muttered nervously as he checked his watch again.
Errol had whispered in his ear that he would go and check to see if maybe she was sick or just had the last-minute jitters.
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