Hot Boyz

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Hot Boyz Page 2

by Marissa Monteilh


  Ladera Heights is a quiet neighborhood of cul-de-sac streets that give safe haven to young children. With immaculate, landscaped homes, the upscale area in Los Angeles is grand.

  To a passerby, one would momentarily conclude from the rows of beanstalk-like palm trees that they were in the exclusive area of Beverly Hills. Some call Ladera, BBH, the Black Beverly Hills. But with its suburban feel, you’ll find a Fat Burger, Popeye’s chicken, and a beauty supply store every quarter mile. Many celebrities have called Ladera home, but most of the residents, mainly African-American, are unknown.

  This particular afternoon, Mercedes settled her wide, curvy hips into the comfort of her suede desk chair. Her cognac-colored hair was pulled back into a bun as usual. Plush, newly acquired furnishings surrounded the oversized pine desk in her home office. She’d often search the web for decorator websites, to send e-mails, take care of work issues for her modeling agency, and to peruse her daily calendar. Her Aquarius horoscope read that she needed to shoulder her responsibilities with cheer and efficiency. Cheery and efficient described her to a tee.

  She reached over to grab her cup of French roast coffee in one hand, breaking off the tip of a buttermilk donut with the other. Her almond eyes peeked from under her long eyelashes as her attention veered off to meet up with the pop-up television screen. She turned up the volume.

  “After experiencing a slump over the past couple of days, PGA star Mason Wilson leads the way in round one of the Sony Open tournament in Hawaii at nine under par. With runners up Tiger Woods, Vijay Singh and J.J. Henry giving him a run for his money at eight, five and two under, respectively,” the young Asian-American sports anchor reported.

  Without delay, Mercedes picked up her cordless and dialed. “Girl, turn to ESPN. They’re talking about Mason’s day on the course. He’s in the lead again,” she told her homegirl, while chomping on her donut.

  Sequoia replied casually, “Woman, I’m in the dang car. You amaze me. You still light up like a Christmas tree every time that man comes on TV. He’s on that tube damn near every day.”

  “Yeah, but he looks real good today. All fitted in his black and white looking so sexy.”

  “You’d think the two of you just met last week. It’s like you guys are in high school,” Sequoia said, turning up her car radio.

  “And that’s the way it should be. I just don’t get to see him enough.”

  “Well, that too can cause it’s own set of problems. But, to change the subject, as much as I’d love to talk about your perfect husband, why don’t you get out on Saturday and hang out with me at your own husband’s club? Hey, mister. Watch it,” she yelled out in Mercedes’s ear.

  “I’m not going there, Sequoia. You know that. And calm down before your road rage gets the best of you yet. Anyway, I have an event to go to with Mason Saturday night. Besides, Foreplay is a singles club and that’s exactly where you need to be, not me. Ask Colette to go. You know she’s always up there checking on Torino.”

  Sequoia replied loudly as if it was necessary to talk over the sound of traffic. “Colette is way too negative for me. I don’t even talk to her anymore. She’s always doggin’ Venus for marrying Claude after his woman died. Venus is like a sister to me now. Colette needs to mind her own business.”

  “Yes, she does. But if you need a partner in crime, she’s your girl.”

  “I’d rather go solo.”

  “Sequoia, I know you’re not going to Foreplay to meet a man, are you?”

  “Heck, no. I just need to shake my ass. That’s how I get rid of my week’s stresses.”

  “But watch yourself up there, girl. That’s where all the groupies hang out. That’s a lot of competition.”

  “I can hold my own. Besides, they’re only coming up there to meet your man, hoping he’s in town,” Sequoia said even louder.

  “Calm down. They can hope he’s in town right along with me. Mason bought that club to make money, not as a second home. Most people who hang out there know he rarely even shows up.”

  “If you ask me they’re looking for just his type—rich, fine, and famous. A whole lot of husband stealers hover around the premises on a regular basis.”

  “That’s why married men need to keep their butts out of those places. Anyway, Sequoia, I know you’re tired of holding out, trying to stick to this born again virgin mission, aren’t you? Don’t you just want to call Bobby and ask him to come by and rock your world?”

  “Now Mercedes, if I’ve waited this long, why would I ruin it by getting freaky with some ex of mine? Being freaky is what I’m trying to stay away from. Besides, I know my future husband is in church, not at Foreplay. I’m just looking to relax and dance, that’s all.”

  “Don’t be so sure. Anyway, I’ll call Torino and tell him to put you on the guest list, plus one. I’m sure you’ll find a friend who’ll be thrilled to go with you. Someone who won’t mind getting in for free. Have fun. Talk to you later.”

  Star Wilson’s young teenaged footsteps could be heard making tracks down the hallway carpet toward her mother’s office. She put on her brakes and nearly stumbled, making a right into the doorway. “Mom, Daddy was just on TV. Did you see him?”

  “Yes, Star. I did. He looks good,” Mercedes replied with a smile.

  “When is he coming home?” Star plopped down onto her mom’s camel leather guest chair, taking a yoga-style position.

  “By the end of the week.”

  “Mom, I have a college night event on Friday night. Do you think he can make it?”

  “College night. In the ninth grade? That’s early.”

  “They want us to start thinking about our futures a lot sooner than eleventh grade. Plus, colleges look at grades for all four years in high school, not just the last three.”

  “I know that. But college night for freshmen? I guess things have changed since the days when we’d get a mention of applying for college just prior to our senior year.” Mercedes pecked away at her ergonomic keyboard as she spoke.

  “Like you said, that was back in the day. It’s the new millennium, not the sixties.”

  Mercedes glanced at her daughter, raising one eyebrow. “I was not in high school in the sixties, Star.”

  “I know, Mom. I’m just kidding. Really though, I want Daddy to be there. It seems like people always ask me if he’s coming to things like this.”

  “Like who, other students?”

  “Teachers, too.” Star leaned over to break off a piece of her mom’s donut.

  “Yes, you can have some,” Mercedes said, looking at Star like she was being rude. “I’ll bet the teachers are just impressed with the fact that your dad is Mason Wilson. Perhaps they need to be more impressed with Star Wilson.”

  “I know. They’re just starstruck, I guess. It does get tiresome though.”

  “I’ll bet. For now, tell them your mom, Mercedes Wilson, will be there, ready, willing, and able to listen and help you get cracking on your college experience. And would you like a sip of coffee, too?” Mercedes offered, noticing Star making a funny face.

  “No thanks, Mom. Coffee tastes like mud. And this donut tastes like one hundred percent sugar. How do you eat those?”

  Suddenly, the sound of a loud thump radiated, coming from downstairs, just below the family room. “Mom, come here quick,” Mercedes teenage son Rashaad yelled from downstairs. “Grandma fell.”

  Star and Mercedes bolted down the spiral staircase and yelled to Rashaad, “We’re coming. What happened?”

  Mattie Wilson sat flat on the floor with her legs bent to her chin. She lifted her face toward Mercedes. “Oh, Mason is overreacting with all of his yelling. I just tried to sit on the bed and missed. I’m not hurt.”

  Mercedes told her mother-in-law, “You missed? You’re about three feet off, Mamma. And you mean Rashaad, not Mason. Mason is out of town. Now come on and stand up so we can help you onto the bed.”

  “I’m fine.” Mattie shooed Rashaad’s hand away as he and Mercedes reached in to
lift Mattie under her arms. “I got down here by myself. I can get up by myself.”

  Rashaad retreated and waved his hand like he did not even have to be told twice.

  Mercedes motioned for his cooperation. “Come on son, help her up. Her hip has to be sore. Not to mention her butt.”

  “I said I’m fine” yelled Mattie with her voice cracking. She clapped her hands twice and raised them above her head as if speaking in sign language. “I’m so tired of you all trying to make me feel helpless. There’s nothing wrong with me. Just because I misjudged the bed? How many times have you fallen?” she asked, looking at Rashaad.

  He replied without missing a beat. “Not since I was about six.”

  Mercedes slapped him on the shoulder. “Rashaad, stop. Now Mamma, I’m going to count to three and I want you to grab my hands so I can pull you up.”

  “Come on Grammy,” said Star with a sweet, calming voice. “We know you can do it on your own. But we want to help, just like you would help us.”

  Mattie’s face lit up. “Now see, that’s my little girl. She’s the only one in this house who understands me. I raised three hardheaded boys and Star is the only one who knows her grandma like no one else. Come here angel, give me a hand.”

  Star reached her own tiny young body down under her grandma’s left armpit and helped her lift herself to a standing position.

  Mercedes moved in to help her to the bed. “I can walk, child. My goodness.” Mattie pushed Mercedes away with her eyes. “You all act like I’m an invalid or something. And when is my Jesse coming home anyway?”

  “Mamma, Jesse died ten years ago,” Mercedes reminded her for the twentieth time.

  “My husband is not dead. You stop saying that. He’s just gone away for a little while to work some things out. He’ll be back.”

  “Yes, Grammy,” Star replied. “You’re right.” Mattie gave Star a pat on the top of her head as she sat on the bed and Star knelt to rest her head in her grandma’s lap.

  Mattie looked down at Star’s face and gave her a warm smile. “You want me to braid your hair, little girl? You know you need to oil your scalp and brush your hair every day.”

  Star replied, “If that will give me hair like yours, Grammy, yes, I do. That would be nice.”

  Star’s hair was thick and long and wavy just like her grandma’s. Grandma Mattie’s hair was just like an Indian’s, dark with a few platinum strands and so long she could sit on it. She always wore it in a braided ponytail. Mattie did not look her age. She swore by Camay and always smelled of White Shoulders.

  Mercedes and Rashaad made their way toward the door. Rashaad whispered toward his mother’s ear. “Mom, what are we gonna do about her? My friend Miguel’s grandma ended up living in a convalescent home because it just got too hard on the family.”

  “That’s something we’re never going to do. Not ever. Not if your dad has anything to do with it anyway. We have the room, we have the money, and we have the help right here. We’ll all just have to put in our time and be patient.”

  “But, Mom, Grandma seems so angry.”

  “She’s just in denial because some of her freedom’s being taken away. Deep down she’s fighting to hold on to her independence,” Mercedes said, turning to watch the pair bond.

  Rashaad watched as well. “Star sure is good with her.”

  “Yes she is. That’s just her way. Star’s always been nurturing and patient and gentle. It’s very calming to your grandma. Maybe we need to take notes from Star.”

  They both peeked into the bedroom as Mercedes grabbed the doorknob. Star sat in between her grandma’s legs with her slender body, long face, big eyes, and button nose. She was facing the TV when she took the remote and turned to BET. Her grandma carefully brushed and parted her hair and began to cornrow like a pro. Braiding hair was one thing, among many others, that Mattie had never forgotten. Mercedes pulled the door shut.

  Chapter 2

  The next afternoon, Mercedes and Colette Berry, who was Torino’s girlfriend and also a model with Mercedes’s agency, went shopping at the Fox Hills mall. Colette had to be five eleven with a typical lean and lanky model’s figure. She was the color of buttermilk. Her eyes were a lighter shade of brown and her lips were stingy thin. Her relaxed, butterscotch hair was the same color as her skin. She wore it cut just above her shoulders, all one length. She was younger than Mercedes by about eight years and they tended to differ on various subjects.

  They ran into Venus who was loaded down head to toe with bags from Foot Locker, Men’s Land, and Finishline.

  Mercedes’s jaw dropped. “Wow, girl, look at you. Who’s all that for?”

  Venus talked fast. “This is just some stuff for the guys. Claude needed some of the new Jordans so I got some for Cam, too. And then of course they needed the gear to match.”

  “That’s nice of you. Girl, my kids have to buy their own stuff. They wouldn’t trust me to pick out a toothbrush for them,” Mercedes admitted.

  Venus laughed. “Well, they don’t know. It’s a surprise.”

  Colette simply stood at Mercedes’s side, turning right to left to look at the passersby.

  “What’s the special occasion? Birthday, anniversary, pre-Christmas shopping?” Mercedes asked, still amazed by the number of large bags.

  Venus put a couple of them down to rest her right arm. “Anniversary. I just thought I’d give it to them both next week. Kind of a family anniversary. I want to include Cam.”

  “I know they’ll appreciate it. Are you done?”

  “No, just one more quick stop at the Silver Hut. There’s this silver charm Cam mentioned of a basketball hoop and his number twenty-three.”

  Mercedes commented. “That should make Claude happy, too. Last I heard Cam was thinking about anything but becoming a b-baller.”

  “Cam knows he can’t deny his skills now. At only sixteen, that boy is already six three and could probably handle a spot on a college team right now. I’m going to support him and his dad’s wishes for him.”

  “You’re one helluva lady, Venus. Maybe you should make a stop at your car to lighten your load. Do you need any help?”

  Colette cleared her throat.

  “I’m cool. I’m just headed straight upstairs and then I’m out the door. You two must have just gotten here, huh?” Venus asked, noticing their empty arms.

  “No, we just got through eating lunch. We’ve been looking for a dress for Mason’s big bash at the club in two weeks,” Mercedes told her.

  “Are both of you going?” Venus inquired, looking at both.

  Mercedes answered for them. “Yes. You should try to come out.”

  Venus replied, “Claude hates stuff like that. You know how he is. But we might.”

  Colette spoke up, “I can understand if you can’t make it. We’ll see you later.” Colette walked away to peruse the Bath & Body Works store window.

  Mercedes spoke right on the heels of Colette’s last word. “Anyway, you should try and stop by sometime other than only on Sundays for dinner, even though that’s nice, too. I think it would be nice to spend time just getting to know each other better. Besides, I never see you anymore.”

  “I will. You stop by, too. I’m home just about all day,” Venus informed her.

  Mercedes leaned in for a hug. “Sounds like a plan. Take care, dear.”

  “Ciao.” Venus picked up her bags and proceeded to the upescalator.

  Mercedes walked over to Colette who was now looking at the Charlotte Russe window display. “Why are you so blatant about showing your distance toward her? You don’t have to be so rude.”

  Colette kept her sights on a slinky pink jumpsuit. “Please, I could care less what that woman thinks about me, running around here doing all of that guilt shopping. Her stank ass marrying her dead best friend’s man. That is straight scandalous and you know it.” She pointed at the outfit. “I wonder if that’s going to be too short for my inseam. My long legs screw me up every time.”

  “C
olette, why are you so judgmental? I personally am not one to judge.”

  “Probably so. It does look short. I need to go to the Ann Taylor in Century City. Mercedes, that’s one thing I hate about you. You’re such a damn do-gooder. You always justify each situation based upon the last person’s viewpoint that you hear,” Colette said as they continued to walk along, strolling and looking.

  “And what’s wrong with that? That woman is a part of my family. You have to learn to give people the benefit of the doubt.”

  Colette stopped and looked at Mercedes. “Venus is a cow who still manages to sleep at night. Buying all that shit for those men in her house. Don’t you think she’s trying a little too hard?”

  “Do you think you judge her too much, Colette? You never know what’s really going on in her head.”

  “Yeah, a ball of confusion, sin and betrayal. I could never imagine doing that to my best friend. She needs her ass kicked.”

  Mercedes placed her fight hand on her hip. “You know, I thought I knew you well after I hired you once you started dating Torino a couple of years ago. But you’re really starting to surprise me. I think she’s being a damn good friend to Fatima to want to look after her family.”

  “That’s a hell of a lot more than just looking after. Mercedes, I say Venus must have had her eyes on Claude way before all of this happened. Didn’t they think about how this would affect Cameron? He just ended up resenting her.”

  “Perhaps Claude will too in the long run, who knows. But that’s for them to figure out.”

  Colette continued to walk.

  Mercedes caught up. “Anyway, Colette, what’s up with you and my brother-in-law?”

  “It’s damn serious I’d say.”

  “Well, when in the heck is that love affair going to be sealed with a marriage license then?”

  “Apparently no time soon from what I can tell about Torino. That boy is commitment phobic.”

  “You’d think after the amount of time you two have been with one another he wouldn’t have any doubts.”

  “Probably no doubts about me, but just about losing his bachelorhood. He’s scared he might miss out on something.”

 

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