Revenge of the Mistress

by Cydney Rax

  “That down-low dude got Kiara fooled like a big dog. What a fucking loser.”

  And Rashad couldn’t wait to tell her.

  * * *

  “Kiara,” he yelled. Rashad called her as soon as he got back in his car.

  “What’s wrong with you, Rashad? You sound out of breath. Like you’ve been . . . ugh, never mind.”

  “It’s not who I’m screwing that you should be worried about.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Remember I told you everything that glitters ain’t gold? Sometimes it’s a DLB.”

  “What in the hell are you talking about?”

  “You know. Down-low brother.”

  Kiara started laughing. “Have you been drinking?”

  “No, but your boy has. In fact, he’s tossing back a few drinks right now. He probably is consumed with guilt with his fake low-life ass.”

  Kiara paused in horror. She just knew he wasn’t referring to Eddison. No way.

  “Your knight in shining armor isn’t as shiny as you think he is. At least not in the way you think. Tell me something. Is he with you right now?”

  “No, he’s not.”

  “Did he tell you where he was going? You know, since you two have this perfect open relationship.”

  “Um, Eddison told me he had family business to take care of, that’s all.”

  “Is that what they call it these days?”

  “Rashad, you’re starting to scare me. What’s going on?”

  “Your boy Eddison Osborne is gay.”

  She sighed. Then it sounded like she dropped the phone. She got back on the line. “You are one sick, jealous-ass, delusional son of a bitch, Rashad. Worry about your own household and stop trying to screw up mine.”

  “Kiara, wait. Think about it. When’s the last time you two had sex?”

  She thought about it. It had been a while, a week or so. She and Eddison had mutually agreed to stop making love every other day. That’s because she was so busy taking care of Jazzy that sometimes Kiara wasn’t in the mood to have sex. But she never thought it would be because he was getting it from someone else, especially another man.

  “Well, that’s none of your business. Your life is yours, and my life is mine. So don’t be asking me about me and my man’s sex life. My life should not concern you.”

  And she hung up.

  Chapter 7

  Nicole managed to smooth things over with Rashad enough to cause him to forget about their most recent stumbling blocks and concentrate on moving into their lovely new house. It had been a whirlwind few days. And Nicole was so exhausted from unpacking boxes and setting up the new house that she was ready to collapse at the end of each day.

  “I’m tired as hell. But I’m happier than I’ve ever been,” she told her husband before he went to work. Rashad wanted to put in a few hours that morning, since his daughter’s first birthday party would be held later in the afternoon. He stood in the bathroom watching Nicole. She was seated in the Hollywood tub completely immersed in warm, soothing water with white bubbles and surrounded by firelight candles that smelled of vanilla ice cream and caramel.

  “I’ll admit, you looking hot in that tub.” He licked his lips and stared.

  * * *

  Nicole felt like she was starring in a big-budget film and she was the featured celebrity.

  “Thank you, babe,” she said. She raised a glass of champagne toward Rashad. He smiled down at Nicole’s glistening breasts. He quickly removed his clothes so he could join her.

  “Damn, you look fine yourself,” she told him. “I have the sexiest husband in Houston. Well, make that in all of Sugar Land. We’re moving on up.” She laughed and sipped from her glass.

  “Man, it doesn’t take much for you, huh?” he said. He quietly slid into the tub filled with bubbles. The whoosh of hot water completely covered him and instantly soothed him. Nicole was sitting in front of Rashad. He reached over and cupped her breasts. His hands were magical and felt so good on her. She maneuvered her body and turned around until she was facing him. She wanted to look Rashad deep in his eyes. The more she stared at him, the more she wanted to pinch herself. No wonder her best friend refused to associate with her. Shyla’s actions hurt at first. But Nicole didn’t care. Not anymore.

  She sighed in contentment and began to clean Rashad’s hairy chest with a soapy sponge.

  “I finally feel like a queen. And I love you, Rashad Eason.”

  “Love you, too.”

  “You’re my king, my Santa Claus, my sugar daddy, all rolled into one.”

  “Oh yeah?” He smiled at her. He liked how that sounded, even if it seemed like she was describing someone else.

  “A lot of people dream about having something amazing for years or even their entire lives. And a lot of times that’s all it ends up being—a wish. But everything I want is here. It’s now. I’m so happy that I’m afraid one day I’ll wake up and it’s all going to be over, because it was just a five-minute dream I had that felt real. But, no. This is my reality.” Nicole pressed her lips against his, stuck her tongue in his mouth, and kissed him. She sucked on his tongue and moaned when he lowered his hands and massaged her vagina. Waves of pleasure rolled inside of her. It felt so good she could barely speak. “And I-I’m so grateful and so thankful, because when I—when I think about it, I might not deserve all of this. I probably didn’t stay on a straight and narrow path to get everything I have.”

  “You didn’t play your position; you took your position.”

  “Ouch! That sounds so horrible, as if Kiara was at the top of a mountain and I climbed up next to her and knocked her off.”

  “But isn’t it true?”

  “I know one thing. I won’t take the entire blame for how we hooked up.”

  He could only laugh and agree with her. People wanted what they wanted, and at times they didn’t care how they went about getting it.

  Nicole’s voice was quiet and reflective as she splashed more water on Rashad’s chest. “Right way, wrong way; point is, I want to hold on to everything I have and never let it go. Because some goal-oriented people might die and never, ever see even a little bit of what they wished could happen during their lifetime.”

  “Yeah, you are one lucky chick. But every Cinderella has that moment when the clock strikes midnight. The carriage turns back into a pumpkin and her prince has to take back his rented tux.”

  She tossed her head and laughed. “You’re so silly, Rashad. I’ll tell you like I told my former best friend. I won’t let any negativity rain on my parade. I’m happy. And I plan to stay that way.”

  She sank deeper into the tub, closed her eyes, and Rashad realized he’d been dismissed.

  * * *

  Later that afternoon approximately a dozen children gathered at Chuck E. Cheese’s. Even though Jazzy wouldn’t turn one until the next weekend, Kiara had decided to throw the party ahead of time.

  Jazzy, Myles, Kiara, and Eddison arrived first, and from the moment they set foot in the venue, she and Eddison were nearly glued to each other’s side. Like true partners, they consulted with the party coordinator and checked on all the details together.

  “You’re so good at daddy-day-care duties,” she told him.

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  “I wish we could have had our own child, sweetie.”

  “It’s not too late for that to happen,” he assured her. “Meanwhile I’ll have fun treating these kids like my own.”

  When Rashad and Nicole walked in with Emmy on her hip, she surveyed the room. Kiara had reserved one long table decked out with green, lavender, and pink balloons that nearly bobbed against the ceiling. Numerous party favors were arranged at each child’s seat. And a three-layer cake decorated with edible crayons bearing Jazzy’s name prominently sat at the middle of the spread.

  “Nice job, Kiara,” Nicole remarked once she made sure Emmy was seated in the center of the other children. “It’s all about the kids to
day,” she said. “Thank God she’s only one and she doesn’t realize where she’s at.”

  “There is nothing wrong with my daughter having her party at this place.”

  “Umm, if you say so. But I really thought you’d pick somewhere a bit classier.”

  “Girl, I’ll bet when you turned one, Chuck E. Cheese’s would have been an upgrade for your family.”

  Nicole laughed. “We’re not talking about me. It’s all about that precious little Jazz and how she’s forced to sit at these sticky-topped plastic tables and the non-working video games.”

  “You are exaggerating. And why would you care where Jazzy has a party?”

  “I want her to be happy.”

  “Why aren’t you concerned about your own happiness, Nicole? You schemed your way into getting that man that you were so desperate to have. It seems that nothing else would matter to you after that. But obviously you are the type who is never satisfied.”

  Nicole was startled by her remarks.

  “I don’t like what you said. Take it back.”

  “And I didn’t like all the shit that you did by sleeping with my husband. Take that back. Oops, I guess it’s impossible to do that, because it would mean Emmy would instantly disappear from sight. Like a cheap magic trick.”

  Nicole glared at Kiara, unable to believe she’d just sunk so low as to target her daughter. Suddenly the joyful squeals of children interrupted them. The kids were laughing, running, and having the time of their lives. She decided to back off.

  “I’ll ignore your little statement. And just know that I didn’t mean harm about this joint. I always thought you were the sophisticated, snobby type and I just thought you’d go all-out—”

  “Nicole, I didn’t mean what I said about Emmy. I don’t like you judging my decisions. The point is, the kids are having a good time, alright? So, please go get yourself some pizza and a beer, and relax for a change. You look really stressed out.”

  As soon as Kiara turned around, she saw Rashad. And he was headed toward Eddison.

  “Damn, if it’s not one thing it’s another.” She quickly approached the men, who’d just engaged in conversation.

  “What are you two talking about?” she asked.

  “I was just asking Mr. Osborne if he’d been hitting any new bars lately. You know, Houston is always opening up a new place to drink and get your swerve on.”

  “Rashad, please. I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not going to work.”

  Eddison faced Rashad. “Yeah, man, I heard that you called my lady and implied that I’m down-low, or something to that effect?”

  “Are you?” Rashad asked.

  “If I was, it definitely wouldn’t be any of your business.”

  “If you were, then you need the shit beat out of you.”

  “Rashad,” Kiara pleaded, “we are here to celebrate our daughter. Not interrogate me and my man. I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Right now.”

  “I ain’t going nowhere. I am here for two reasons: to be with Jazzy . . . and to keep my eyes on this fake P.O.S.”

  It took everything inside Eddison not to smash Rashad in his face. He came close to losing it, but he held his composure. He avoided Rashad the rest of the night, but he couldn’t help but notice the questioning looks that Kiara kept giving him. Looks that made him wonder how much longer he could withhold the words he needed to tell her.

  When Rashad had the first opportunity, he pulled Kiara to the side. He grabbed her arm and led her to a corner.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I wanted to tell you thank you for organizing this party. I didn’t contribute that much.”

  “Oh, you did. You paid for this and that helped.”

  “You always know how to get my money, don’t you?” He smiled like he was impressed.

  “I get what I can get, alright?”

  “I like that about you, Kiara. I always have. You’re strong, determined. And you look like you are back to your pre-pregnancy weight.”

  “What it’s to you?”

  “I like that you’re taking care of yourself, managing your life, the kids.”

  “Oh, well, thanks.”

  He looked like he wanted to say more but she cut him off. “How’s married life, player?”

  “I ain’t a player.”

  “Now, that’s hard to believe. You cheated on me, a decent woman who really loved you, but you’re faithful to that little wench?”

  “Hey.”

  “Hey, nothing. It’s true.”

  “What? Are you still hurt? I-I’m sorry about that, Kiara. I never wanted to hurt you, babe. I know I messed up a good thing.”

  She could not look him in the eye. It was rare that she allowed herself to display the hurt she had endured from their turbulent marriage. She assumed that she’d gotten stronger from not being around him, and she wanted to always present herself as such.

  “Oh well, Rashad. It’s all water under your whorish bridge.”

  Her words stung, and now he was the one feeling emotional. “It’s probably too late now, but I’m not the same man, Kiara. I’m a better one. And I have you to thank for that.”

  “Don’t thank me for anything.” She shoved his forehead and pushed him against a wall. “Thank yourself for causing the shit that broke us apart. Now, go somewhere, sit in the hoe corner, and think about everything you’ve done.” She left him alone and returned to the party.

  * * *

  Rashad and Jerry were at a construction site installing track lighting into the ceiling of a middle-school gym. Rashad liked to get down in the trenches sometimes and assist with the dirty work. He stood on the seventeen-foot-tall orange extension ladder, his tools gathered in a belt that was secured around his waist. Jerry was standing underneath the ladder attending to other duties.

  As Rashad took a big step on the ladder, he tried to reach toward the ceiling at the same time; freakishly, his right foot slipped. Without thinking, instead of gripping the ladder, he shifted backward and lost his balance. He felt himself helplessly falling. Rashad reached out in desperation, trying to grab the ladder but he overreached. His hand barely grazed the step. But it was too late. In no time he was airborne.

  Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

  Rashad grunted when his body struck the wooden floor. He’d fallen twelve feet. His legs were tangled like knotted wire. He winced and wailed.

  Within seconds Jerry crouched over Rashad.

  “Boss Man, are you all right?”

  Rashad nodded. Then groaned, “My back.”

  “Can you sit up?”

  He tried. But as soon as he struggled to raise himself, he quickly plunked back on the floor.

  “Call my wife,” he struggled to tell Jerry. “Hurry. Dial eight-three-two . . .” He weakly recited the other numbers.

  Soon Nicole was on the line. Jerry placed her on speaker.

  “Hey, Jerry. I was in the middle of doing something. What’s up?”

  “It’s Rashad. He’s been hurt.”

  “What? Hurt how? Is it serious?”

  “He’s laid out on the floor. He fell off a ladder.”

  “How the hell did that happen? Did you call an ambulance?”

  “He wanted me to call you first.”

  “Well, that’s crazy, call 911,” she huffed. “Where exactly is he?”

  Jerry provided Nicole with the address. Then the sound of many voices echoed in Jerry’s ear as he tried to talk to her.

  “Where are you, Nicole?”

  “I-I’m taking care of some business.”

  “Okay . . . how soon can you be here?”

  “I, um, I’m on my way,” she told him. Then thought, I need to do something real quick.

  “Where exactly are you?” Jerry asked.

  Nicole hesitated, then hung up. She was at the Galleria Mall waiting in line at Neiman Marcus. She was about to buy three pairs of Christian Louboutin shoes that she’d had her eyes on for weeks. And when s
he learned that the store finally had her size in stock, Nicole grabbed her keys and wallet. On the way to the store, she told herself this purchase was a congratulations gift to herself for convincing Rashad to buy their first home. When she first arrived in the shoe department and told the salesman what she wanted, she trembled when she tried on each pair: a pair of black patent-leather red bottom pumps, scuba studded black leather booties, and beige python-embossed pumps.

  The final price would add up to nearly three grand before tax. It would be her first time ever owning a pair of Loubies. Yep, she thought as she caressed the top box of the shoes she was about to purchase. This shy little girl who used to run around barefoot in Alabama has finally arrived.

  Nicole’s excitement rapidly turned to guilt when a nagging feeling tugged at her. She stood behind two other customers who clutched several boxes in their hands.

  “Hurry, please hurry. I have an emergency,” she said out loud, hoping the sales associate could hear her.

  After waiting a brief moment, Nicole was able to swipe the credit card that Rashad had given to her for emergencies. Minutes later she raced out of the store and hopped into her ride.

  Nicole expertly hid her purchases behind the driver’s seat, covering them with a thick blanket. Finally! She felt ready to perform her wifely duties.

  When she arrived at the construction site, the first person she spotted hovering over Rashad was Kiara.

  The sight of the woman made Nicole hot with rage. She leaped out of the Jeep and stormed over to the tiny crowd of people that had gathered.

  “Mrs. Eason, sorry we’re just now getting here. A train got us jammed up,” the EMS attendant explained. “Which hospital should we take him to?” He was addressing Kiara, who appeared distressed as she tried not to caress Rashad’s shoulder. Eyes closed, he lay there moaning every few seconds. He wasn’t talking and hadn’t seen her arrive.

  “Um, I’m thinking Sugar Land Methodist will work,” Kiara blurted without thinking.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Excuse me, sir,” Nicole interrupted. “I’m the current Mrs. Eason. You need to go through me, not her.”

  The man shrugged like it didn’t matter. He quietly asked his coworker to help lift Rashad onto a gurney.