With a look of euphoria on her face, her elevator of bliss was rising toward cloud nine. Yes, his loving was like that! But just before she got past cloud six, Randy’s ass had the nerve to ask, “So, have you thought anymore about having a threesome with Dalia?”
“Now I remember why I can’t stand your country apple ass!” Nayla blanked on Randy. She wasn’t as furious as she acted, but why did he always have to go and ruin the moment? Her sexual high quickly descended, and before she knew it, she was at ground zero again.
He had been bugging Nayla about the threesome bullshit for over a month. The more she said no, the more his dumb ass asked the question.
The only thing she felt she could praise about Randy was his sex game. Were it not for his tongue and his dick, she wouldn’t have shit good to say about the bastard. Nayla knew then that marrying Randy had been a huge mistake. Besides the sex, she was totally unhappy. She was ready to do something about it.
He is constantly bringing that shit up at the wrong fucking moment, Nayla thought. I mean, damn! I get sick of that bullshit. Plus, he doesn’t take responsibility for his actions. Nayla hated to get rid of her good dick, but she felt like he was cheating on her with the woman he wanted to have the threesome with anyway. Other than their sex life, there wasn’t a relationship. She was always busy working, and Randy was busy being Randy. He changed jobs like decent women changed panties.
Nayla jumped out of her beautiful cherry wood king-sized bed. “Get yo’ country butt up and get out. I mean it!”
Randy looked at Nayla in pure disbelief.
“Did you not hear what I said?” Angrily, she reached down, grabbed his clothes and shoes, and threw them at him. “Get out, I said! I don’t wanna see you anymore. I’m also going to see the lawyer. It’s time to end this mess.” Nayla turned her back and waited for him to put on his clothes and leave.
When she heard the front door slam, Nayla felt more liberated than she had ever felt. She looked around the lavish bedroom, decorated in rose gold silk, and sighed. Stepping into the massive bathroom with the jet Jacuzzi tub and shower, she turned everything on before walking to the expansive walk-in closet that was reminiscent of Kimora Lee Simmons’ closet.
She wondered why Randy wanted that other woman so bad. Nayla was a bad-ass bitch all by her damn self. Full-figured, yeah, but she was sexy as fuck.
After a long, relaxing bubble bath, she ate the fabulous lunch prepared by Chef Tahir, who looked as delicious as the meals he prepared each day. Then she got dressed, making a mental note to make a stop by and see her lawyer before going back to the office. As always, she had to make sure she was looking fresh in one of her custom pantsuits. Satisfied with her appearance, she headed off to her lawyer’s office.
* * *
“I want a divorce! Everything is mine because he hasn’t worked for shit. He will walk out of this marriage the same way he walked into it—ashy and broke!” Nayla skipped the cordial bull and got straight to the point. Besides, she and Randy were only married for a little over a year. Her thirtieth birthday was six months away, and she was looking forward to celebrating the milestone and her divorce to that trifling-ass Randy.
The very patient lawyer finally smiled, spoke up, and said, “That’s fine, Nayla. If you are certain that’s what you want, then I’ll file the papers right away.”
“Thank you, Clayton.” Nayla slid on her Chanel shades and turned to walk away. She glanced over her shoulder and caught the handsome lawyer, Clayton Dean, looking dead at her juicy round ass. God knew what He was doing when He made full-figured women! Nayla knew that’s why He blessed her to build her million-dollar company, Curvalicious, from the ground up.
Nayla walked out of his office and handed the valet her ticket. As soon as her car pulled up, she hopped back into her platinum-colored Lexus and drove to her office in the heart of downtown Atlanta.
The next thing to check off her to-do list was hiring an assistant. She hated having to leave the majority of her staff in New York to keep her first office running. She was excited to start a new chapter with a new team down south.
Judea
At 4:45 a.m., Judea awoke to the sound of her rooster alarm clock. You could take the girl out of the country, but you couldn’t take the country out of the girl! Shoot, Judea wished she could have brought her rooster, Walter, to Atlanta, from her hometown of Altoona, Alabama.
She had an interview that morning for the secretarial position at Curvalicious. I’ma straighten my hair special this mo’ning, Judea thought as she was frying bacon and scrambling eggs. She leaned forward, almost burning herself on the grease.
“Lordy, I’m so nervous about gettin’ this here job that I almos’ burned myself!” she said aloud to the walls that surrounded her.
Having come from a big family, she wasn’t used to being in a house alone. Judea was one of twelve children.
After having breakfast, Judea laid out her best Sunday dress. It was navy blue, with a white sailor collar. She had white stockings and navy blue shoes to match. Judea smiled to herself. She knew the outfit just might do the trick and land her the job she so desperately needed.
Judea Hamiliton had moved to Atlanta without much more than a suitcase full of dreams and eyes that still sparkled with innocence. At age twenty-five, she was still fairly young and tender, with thick thighs and a seductive smile. The youngest of her siblings, Judea was the first one in her family to ever venture outside of her home state.
Even though she loved her family dearly, Judea wanted to see what life outside of small-town Alabama was like. It was almost as if something was calling, or even pulling her, to Atlanta. She didn’t know what it was, but she packed up her bags, kissed her family good-bye, and set out to discover what life had to offer. She’d been in the A for a few weeks with no job, and her money was running out. If Judea didn’t get the job at Curvalicious, she’d be headed back to ’Bama on the first thing smoking.
After straightening her long, thick hair, Judea took a quick bath and slipped into her Sunday best. She stared at herself in the mirror and smiled, revealing deep dimples in each cheek. She had turned her long hair under with a curling iron. It looked pretty, resting on her shoulders. Her size fourteen dress fit nicely. It was one of her favorites.
Judea closed her eyes and prayed. “Lord, please, let your will be done. If I’m to stay here, I’ve got to have a job. Otherwise, I can’t ’ford to stay up here. So if it’s your will, Lord, I pray for this job in your name. Amen.”
Judea took a cab to her destination. She tipped the driver four quarters that he didn’t seem to appreciate. He grumbled something obscene as Judea exited the cab. She said a quick prayer for him. She didn’t understand why people had to be so rude and unhappy all the time.
Judea stared at the tall building in front of her before entering. She couldn’t believe that entering this building every day might be her future. Her nerves went into overdrive. She looked up in awe; it had to have twenty or more floors. According to Judea’s directions, Curvalicious was on the top floor.
Judea wasn’t used to riding in elevators. In fact, she was terrified of elevators. The thought of cramming into a tiny box and having it potentially break down and trapping her inside, was enough to deter her from getting inside. Twenty flights of stairs was a long way up, but it was safer than the elevator. Judea took a deep breath as she followed the sign that read: STAIRS.
“Excuse me,” a deep voice said.
Judea turned around to see a tall, dark man staring at her. He was wearing a uniform with the name “Lamar” stitched on the brown shirt.
“How far up you going?”
“I got a interview at Curvalicious,” Judea told the stranger. She felt nervous as she noticed him staring at her. She read the approval in his eyes when he smiled.
“That’s all the way up top. You’ll be out of breath by the time you make it that far. Why you don’t just take the elevator?” He pointed toward the stainless steel doors. “It’s
a lot quicker.”
Judea shrugged her shoulders. “Ain’t too comfortable in no elevator.” She felt comfortable with Lamar. He didn’t sound like all the other city folk. He spoke with a deep southern accent, just like her.
“I tell you what. I’ll join you and keep you entertained. Before you know it, the ride will be over, and you’ll be having your interview. What’s your name?”
Judea extended her right hand to him. “Judea Hamiliton.” The simple touch of his warm hand against hers sent chills up and down her spine. She couldn’t deny that she was attracted to Lamar.
“I’m Lamar West.” Lamar had already fallen in love with Judea’s smile. Her eyes twinkled every time she smiled. And those dimples were as deep as the ocean. She was beautiful. Judea was curvaceous, and Lamar loved a full-figured woman.
“Come on. I don’t want you to be late.” Lamar extended his arm and Judea wrapped hers under and held his elbow.
Such a gentleman, she thought. Judea allowed Lamar to lead her to the elevator. He talked to her and told her jokes the entire ride up. And as promised, before she knew it, they had arrived at the top floor. Judea closed her eyes and thanked God. The elevator ride wasn’t half as bad as she had thought it would be.
“Good luck,” Lamar said as Judea stepped off the elevator. “I sure hope you get this job. I would love to see your pretty face every mornin’.”
Judea blushed. “Thank you. I hope so too.”
The doors closed, and Lamar disappeared.
Judea was twenty minutes early, so she got a magazine and took a seat. No sooner had she sat down than the elevator doors opened again. A beautiful, full-figured woman, who was fashionably dressed and carrying a briefcase, stepped off. She smelled like fresh Georgia peaches.
“Hello. May I help you?” the woman asked Judea.
“I got a interview with a Mrs. Anderson in ’bout fifteen minutes,” Judea answered as she held tightly to her resume and purse. She didn’t know the woman. For all Judea knew, the woman was there for the same job and may try to sabotage her.
“Ms. Anderson,” the stranger corrected her. “Mrs. Anderson is my mother.”
Judea looked at the woman strangely.
The woman laughed. “I’m Nayla Anderson. I’m the founder and owner of Curvalicious. And you are?”
Judea laughed nervously. “Judea Hamiliton. I’m here for the secretary job.”
She handed Ms. Anderson the resume the woman at the library had helped to prepare for her. Judea didn’t know much about computers and such.
“Well, if you would like, we can get started. Follow me,” Nayla said.
“But . . . but don’t you need me to get you some coffee or something?” Judea asked. “It’s really no bother. I’ll be glad to fetch you a cup.”
“Thank you, Ms. Hamiliton. That’s very nice of you.” Nayla sensed that Judea was a good person. She didn’t have the type of experience Nayla was looking for, though. According to the resume, Judea hadn’t done much outside of farming and some bookkeeping for her father. “Maybe we can get a cup of coffee after your interview.”
Judea followed Nayla into the large office. There was a beautiful view outside the large window. Judea kept looking to the window as they spoke. She had never seen a view like the one from Nayla’s office.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Nayla asked.
“’Scuse me?”
“The view. I noticed you keep looking at the window.”
“Oh, yes, ma’am. I ain’t never been so high up in a buildin’ befo’.”
“Well, let’s look at the view while we speak.” Nayla got up from her chair and walked to the window. Judea followed and stood beside Nayla. The view was breathtaking.
The two women talked about the position and Judea’s previous experience.“I know I ain’t got a lot of experience, but I’m a fast learner. And I really need this job, Ms. Anderson,” Judea pleaded. She felt at peace in Nayla’s office. It was as if Curvalicious was where she belonged.
“Call me Nayla.” She turned toward Judea. “Now, let’s go have that cup of coffee so we can talk about when you start. Then we’ll come back and fill out the paperwork.”
Judea was so happy she wrapped her arms around Nayla’s neck. “Thank you, Ms. Anderson—I mean Nayla. Thank you!”
Again, she closed her eyes. She thanked God above. He had a plan for her in her new surroundings. She wasn’t quite sure what that plan was, but she was ready to find out. She had a hunch that it had something to do with her new boss.
Braylin
“Bray!” Donovan screamed as he stomped in and slammed her front door.
“My name is Braylin!” It was to the point where the small things he did, that she once thought were cute, she couldn’t stand anymore, like him calling her Bray.
“Why I don’t smell dinner, girl?” He pulled on her ponytail as he walked past her toward the kitchen.
Damn, no “Hello” or “How was your day?” Braylin thought. She was second guessing her marriage. You cheat, you lie, you don’t do any of the things you used to do, but you want and expect the same special treatment from me. She was no longer fond of the familiar stranger who called her place his home.
“Get the burgers from Caesar’s out of the refrigerator and heat them up. I’m trying to prepare my campaign for a new potential client,” she said.
“Well, I guess it’s something. Thanks.” He had gotten so that he wasn’t genuinely grateful for anything anymore.
Braylin sighed as she continuously noticed how Donovan used to say things to encourage her, or make her feel wanted and loved. Maybe he never really loved me, she thought. Maybe he got tired of keeping up the charade. But I’m so tired of him, coming in at all hours of the night, and then always expecting a hot meal and for me to be waiting for him.
Through her frustration, Braylin drummed her fingernails against her desk. Just as she was getting up to call it a night, her iPhone began vibrating its way off the desk. She started to ignore it, but it was Bronx. Knowing that this was Bronx’s main night to work at the club, as she was always the strip club’s Wednesday night headliner as Almondy Brown, Braylin figured something must be wrong.
“Hello?”
“Hey, girl. Whew, have I got some shit to tell you.”
“What’s up? I was just getting ready to call it a night.”
“Well, honey-boo, you need to stay up for this one.”
“Okay, what is it?” Fear began settling in Braylin’s mind as she knew it most likely had something to do with Donovan. Bronx quickly confirmed her fears.
“Do you know where your man was up until about an hour ago?” Bronx continued without even waiting for an answer from her friend. “His ho ass was back here in the dressing room eating stank Toniya’s pussy. No dental dam or nothing!”
What Bronx didn’t tell Braylin was that while Donovan was sticking his tongue in foreign objects, he was pounding his manhood in and out of her scary pussy without a rubber. Bronx’s only reason for telling Braylin about part of the situation was because she wanted Braylin and Donovan to fight so that he’d leave Braylin and come stay with her for a couple of days. This was what he would do when they got into it.
It was during those days that Braylin wouldn’t hear anything from Bronx, and if Donovan called, it was always from a blocked number. Something never felt right about that, but Braylin refused to believe that her friend could or would be the one to ever betray her.
“Damn it, Bronx, I’m sick of this. I’m a good woman. Why in the hell do I continue to put up with this?” As Braylin’s anger was bordering on rage, she thanked her friend for letting her know what was up and hung up the phone.
She knew that Donovan’s two-timing behind had long since fallen asleep, probably dreaming of Toniya. She never second-guessed her friend, and Bronx had always looked out for her. It was Bronx who would always stand up to the girls who tried to pick on Braylin in school, often getting suspended from school for fighting on Brayli
n’s behalf.
Braylin stormed into her bedroom and walked right up to a soundly sleeping Donovan and slapped him dead across his drooling mouth. “Wake the hell up!”
Aw, shit, Donovan thought, what is it now?
“What you slapping me for, girl?” His nostrils were flaring and his light brown face was turning red.
“I slapped you because I’m sick of you! I’m the only one working, I’m the only one cooking, cleaning, and the only one paying any of these damn bills, including your child support, and you can’t even keep your body parts to yourself? I’m sick of you, Donovan!”
“If you so sick of me, then get rid of my ass then. But tell me why you so sick of me. You know that can’t nobody lay that pipe on you like I can.” He smirked. He knew he was telling the truth about his lovemaking skills.
“Yeah, but why you always sharing the loving that you promised was mine and mine alone with all these sluts, especially the whores from the club?” Braylin looked as if she was going to cry, but she fought the urge to do so with all her might.
“Look, what you need to do is stop listening to Bronx’s simple ass. I know that nobody told you I was up at the club but her ho ass.” He walked toward Braylin, opening his arms to wrap around her, but she pushed him away. “The only reason Bronx called you is because she mad that I didn’t let her give me a lap dance. You need to check your girl. She just mad because you got what she wants.” He leaned forward to kiss her, but she walked away. “Whatever, but Bronx ain’t your damn friend. The sooner you see that, the better we’ll all be.”
Donovan was telling the truth about one thing: Bronx wasn’t Braylin’s friend, but it would be some time before she would be able to see that.
* * *
“Donovan, I’m going to meet Mama. Please don’t have any company while I’m gone. I really don’t feel like coming home to any mess.” Braylin had given him a second chance, but he was still on very thin ice as far as she was concerned.
“Don’t worry, mami, I got you. I love you, girl.” Donovan crooned the sweet nothings in her ear as he wrapped his arms around her. He felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket, and he knew it was probably one of his chicken-heads.
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