The Renegades

by P. R. Paige

  "Who says it's a load of crap?" Rome asks us all, trying to defend himself.

  "We do," we all say in unison.

  "Anyhow, the good news is that she's no longer stressing me out about moving," Rome says.

  "And the bad news?" India asks him.

  "The bad news is that now she's going to stress me out about my lifestyle."

  I scurry another inch towards Rome and slink my hand down his pants and fondle him. His eyes zero in on me with a sweet smile.

  The bewilderment in his eyes tells me that my behavior surprises him, and that's a good thing. It's exactly what I was going for.

  With my hand down Rome's pants, I have his unwavering attention. "Did you ever think that maybe a one-woman-one-man lifestyle could be a good thing?" I ask him. If he doesn't want me to stop what I'm doing, he'll answer accordingly.

  "Of course, I have thought about it," Rome says to me, studying my hand inside his pants.

  "Maybe you should think about it some more," India says to Rome.

  "Actually, I'm thinking about it right now," Rome says. His breathing is deep, slow and long.

  "I'm sure you are," I say to him, flattered that for the first time, I have seduced him.

  What could be better than that?

  Maybe him seducing me?

  The next morning on my way to Perrin's penthouse, I revel in the memories of my special session with Rome in the backseat. I smile to myself. The sexy encounter was much too short-lived, but it was no less exceptionally gratifying.

  My next thought: How soon will it happen again?

  I have been so distracted by my roller-coaster emotions for Rome that I haven't worked on my story in days. That's something that must change if I'm serious about completing this book.

  It's a little after eleven in the morning when I arrive at Perrin's condo to prepare lunch for him and his lady friend, who is visiting from Spain.

  For this special occasion, I wear a black suit with tails, black top hat and a white bowtie. Perrin and his lady friend are sitting at the dining room table while I am in the kitchen preparing to serve them catered Chinese food. In good spirits, I am bopping my head and patting my feet, while I listen to instrumental jazz music from the portable stereo.

  I fill two plates with Moo Goo Gai Pan, which is a stir-fried dish consisting of sliced chicken with white button mushrooms and vegetables. I am startled when Perrin appears out of nowhere and touches me on the shoulder.

  "There's someone at the front door," Perrin says to me. "Are you expecting someone?"

  I shake my head no. "I'll check it out, and then I'll be right in."

  Perrin returns to the dining room table, and I head towards the front door. Upon opening the door, my eyes light up when I see Rome and the doorman standing before me.

  "Thursday, this gentleman is here to see you."

  "Oh, really," I say, peering at Rome with a smile. He just made my day.

  "Thanks, Suden," Rome says to the doorman and then tips him $20. "I'll take it from here."

  My eyes gravitate towards Rome as soon as the doorman departs from us.

  Rome wears the tailored Perry Ellis shorts that I love, the ones that hang in that unbelievable provocative way off his hips, and shows off his sexy hairy legs.

  Rome is hiding something behind his back. I size him up from top to bottom and from left to right. I do not speak right away. He has never come to my employer's penthouse before, and I can't help but wonder what miraculous turn of events brought him here today.

  Rome is checking me out, my black-tie outfit no doubt. He devours me with his eyes. "Could you be any more gorgeous?" he says to me. "What exactly are you wearing?"

  "Do you like it?" I ask him, turning and modeling my attire for him.

  "I like it."

  "I'm serving lunch for Perrin and his lady friend."

  "Do you always dress like that?" he asks me.

  "No, not always," I say to Rome. "I was quite inspired the day you dressed as a chauffeur when we chartered that boat. From that day, I knew I wanted to do something fun like that for my boss."

  "I didn't know my behavior had such an effect on you."

  "Well, you know now, don't you?" I say to him. "So? What's on the agenda?"

  I am certain my curiosity is showing as I am dying to know.

  "You," he says and then from behind his back, he reveals to me a pint of ice cream. "I brought you something."

  I tilt my head to the side, trying desperately to make sense of all of this. First he comes here unannounced and then he brings me a treat.

  What's going to be next?

  "Is it from Paradise Ice Cream?" I ask him, wishing and hoping that it is.

  "That place is defunct," he reminds me.

  "I know. A girl can wish though, can't she?"

  "Yes, she can."

  His sweet ice cream gesture swells my heart with joy, and I want to brush his face with my tongue, but I don't do that. I'm a good girl.

  His eyes shower me with admiration and I soak it up.

  "Has anyone ever told you just how sensational you look in your black-tie getup?"

  "No, but I was hoping that someone would," I say to him. "Perhaps, you could tell me."

  "You look sensational," Rome says.

  "Thank you."

  He moves closer to me, his brown eyes never leaving me. "You were on my mind last night… this morning… and this afternoon."

  "Really?" I say, wondering what's really going on here. Surely, he didn't come over here just to tell me that.

  Rome lifts up my left arm and twirls me around so that he is standing behind me with his arms snuggly wrapped around my waist.

  I breathe a sigh of ecstasy as he tightens his grip around my waist, and I am going to melt. He just feels so freaking good.

  His rests his head on my shoulder and says nothing for a long whopping minute.

  What's he doing back there?

  He surprises me again when he twirls me around so that we are now face to face. He nuzzles my neck and then puts his hand under my chin and tips my head back, staring down at me. His eyes are intense as he examines my face.

  "There's something I want to tell you," he says to me.

  I do not say anything, but I am feeling a whole lot of everything, then the words just drop from my mouth.

  "Are you… in love with me?" I ask him.

  He lifts my hand to his face and decorates the inside of my fingers with a sensuous kiss. "Yes, I am."

  I am relishing his words, and I blossom. "Really?" I can hardly contain my lust for him. "Did you come here to make love to me?--You can, if you want to."

  "Tell me something I don't know," he says and then pauses. "I love you, Thursday." His voice is intoxicating.

  My heart is pounding… pounding… pounding, and I remember to breathe. I'm so high right now with flattery, I'm not even sure I know where I am. Feeling woozy and lightened, I step back and lean against the wall. "Since when?"

  "What difference does it make? I love you and I wanted to tell you that." His expression is serious and sincere.

  So much I want to tell him that I love him, too, but I can't. My ego won't let me.

  "That's very sweet of you to say, Rome. Thank you for that."

  Rome steps to me, strokes his nose against mine. "I have to go. Will I see you later?"

  "You can count on it," I say to him.

  Rome heads towards the elevator, and I watch him. I am hypnotized by his stimulating and unexpected words of love, and out of nowhere, an incredible urge bubbles up inside me, and I feel obligated to tell him how I feel. Like a woman on a dire mission to declare her love, I sprint after him.

  But it's too late.

  He's gone.

  Episode Twenty-Two

  Rome has done it again.

  He continues to rent space in my heart and head, causing me to want him more and more each day.

  Doesn't he know the powerful effect he has on me?

  These ar
e the thoughts that linger through my mind as I change into my navy blue leggings and prepare to leave Perrin's penthouse. So much I wish to talk to Perrin about these intense emotions I am experiencing, but Perrin is unavailable. He is still entertaining his lady friend, and I need to speak to someone.

  I pluck my phone from my clutch purse and dial my sister Kirby's number. As I listen to the phone ringing and ringing, I remember that she's probably in class and unavailable to talk, and talking to Storm or India is not an option.

  Out of the parking garage, my mind is catapulted back to an earlier hour in the day when Rome says the famous words: I love you and this time, I was the only woman present when he said it. As much as I want to not make a big deal out of it, I am making a big deal out of it.

  How can I not?

  Deep in my heart, I know that he confessing his love for me has to mean something. Otherwise, why would he go through all the trouble of coming to my place of employment, something that he has never done before, just to tell me?

  I travel south on LaSalle Street. I am in route to the Eisenhower Expressway when an idea sparks my fancy. I know just who to talk to about all of this, someone who knows Rome probably better than himself.

  His mother.

  If there's a way to make Rome my very own, Momma Nicki is the key. Despite her strangeness of ways, she is my golden ticket, if such a ticket exists.

  There's no guarantee Momma Nicki will be at home when I arrive, but I don't care. This is something that I have to do, something I need to do. From the first day when I met her, I distinctly remember her telling us that she lived down the street from the Floral Beach Public Library and that her house was the only white house on the block.

  Less than five miles from the House of Rome, and twenty-five minutes later, I inch myself in the driveway of Momma Nicki's house. She does, in fact, live in the only white house on the block. If that isn't enough to stand out from the crowd, the words Cat House are engraved in huge, gold lettering above the front door.

  I sashay up the five stairs and reach the front door. I wipe the sweat from my upper lip and rub my hands against my leggings.

  Am I making a mistake coming here?

  But then I think to myself. How can anyone ever be sure that their actions won't cause unnecessary repercussions?

  Life is a deck a cards anyway. Some hands you win, and the others, you don't.

  I ring the doorbell, and I am quite amused when the doorbell echoes the sound of a cat meowing. Moments later, the door swings open and Momma Nicki stands before me, holding a full grown Tabby in her arms. She wears a yellow dress, white ankle socks and flats.

  "Good afternoon young lady," Momma Nicki says to me. It's obvious that she doesn't recognize me.

  "It's me, Momma Nicki" I say to her. "Thursday, Rome's lady friend."

  With an eagle eye, Momma Nicki studies me for three seconds. "Oh, of course. Please forgive me. Momma doesn't mean to be rude. Momma is just not wearing her glasses today."

  "I didn't know you wore glasses."

  "I don't." Momma Nicki laughs. "But maybe Momma should."

  She steps aside so that I can step inside. "Come on in, sweetheart, and tell momma what's on your mind."

  "Thank you, and I apologize for coming here unannounced."

  Once inside, the stench of old kitty litter almost knocks me to the floor, but I struggle not to show it. Instead, I breathe through mouth and smile warmly.

  The living area is designed like a wall-to-wall playroom for cats, which consists of a giant scratching posts and a plethora of colorful cat toys scattered about. If I didn't know better, I would think that only cats lived here.

  "I was hoping I might talk to you if I could," I say to her.

  "What has Rome done now?"

  Before I can answer, she blurts out another question. "You're not pregnant, are you? It's okay, if you are, you can tell momma."

  Amused that she would even suggest such a thing, I smile and say, "No, I can assure you that I am not."

  "What about Storm? Is she pregnant?"

  "No, not her either."

  "And the other one? The other pretty girl, is she pregnant?"

  "No. I can assure you that none of us are pregnant."

  Momma Nicki glances at me, seemingly confused, eyes squinted, head tilted. "You mean to tell me with all three of you girls living in that house that none of you are pregnant."

  "That's what I'm telling you."

  "Momma is having a hard time understanding this." She releases the Tabby to the floor. "Anyway, Momma was just about to take her walk. You want to take a walk with momma?"

  "Sure." It's not like I can say no to Momma Nicki. Not that I would even want to say no, but if I did, I would be too afraid.

  Minutes later, Momma Nicki and I stroll down Flower Boulevard. This is a gorgeous suburban area: Quiet, clean and rich.

  "Momma Nicki, I was hoping you could help me with a very special and very sensitive problem."

  As soon as I finish my sentence, I'm distracted by the senior couple sitting on the front porch wearing nothing but a bikini and swimming trunks.

  "Do your neighbors usually dress like that?"

  "Not usually."

  We continue our relaxing stroll under the hot sun. I gather my thoughts but before I can even form my next sentence, my attention is thwarted again by the sight of two senior women wrestling on the lawn of a gigantic house.

  My eyes buck in shock.

  Is this for real?

  My intention is to have an important conversation with Momma Nicki, but I am continually diverted by her eccentric neighbors. I force myself to focus on the topic at hand.

  "What is it that you wanted to talk to momma about?"

  I am about to speak when again, we pass another house, and I witness first hand two senior men, dressed in full fencing gear, about to do battle on the lawn.

  I turn to Momma Nicki. "Please tell me that these men are not senior citizens."

  "Momma can't tell you that."

  At last, we come upon a bench across the street from the Floral Beach Public Library and seat ourselves. Void of any more distractions, perhaps I can reveal to Momma Nicki the reason for my curious visit.

  With a half-smile, I turn to Momma Nicki. "I am in love with your son."

  "Of course, you are. Every woman who meets my Rome falls in love with him." Momma Nicki adjusts the dark wig on her head. It looks like she's about to remove it, but she doesn't. "He has always had that effect on women."

  Somehow his mother's words do not surprise me.

  "But I mean I really love him. I'm talking about that I-can't-breathe kind of love."

  "You mean that kind of love where you're stupid and can't think straight," Momma Nicki says.

  "Exactly," I say. "That kind of love."

  "And what is it that you think I can do?"

  "I was hoping you could advise me on how I might convince him to choose me and give up his other women. You see, I want to marry him."

  "Dear child," Momma Nicki says to me, sadness in her eyes. "Momma would love to help you if I could, but I don't have the answer to that any more than you do. I will tell you this though even though I know I shouldn't, but you seem like a nice girl plus you have nice eyebrows. Momma likes that."

  "What's that?" I ask, curiosity oozing out of my pores.

  "Rome is already married."

  Episode Twenty-Three

  Shock seizes me so strongly that I am literary immobilized by it. I cannot make my mouth move. I try to swallow, but I can't. My eyes blink and blink and blink some more. My ears must be playing tricks on me. Surely, I did not hear her correctly. "Come again? Did you just say that Rome is already married?"

  "He is."

  "How? I mean who? Rome is married. To whom?"

  Momma Nicki does not speak right away. She seems to be thinking about whether or not to continue, then she says it. "Storm."

  My eyes nearly explode and I can't breathe. For seconds on end,
I don't even move. How can I?

  "Please tell me you are just joking with me," I say to Momma Nicki.

  "Momma can't say that."

  "Storm is Mrs. Rome Nicki?"

  "Well, I shouldn't say that. Rome was married to Storm, and he has told me on numerous occasions that they're divorced."

  "And?"

  "And momma doesn't believe him. I think they're still married."

  "Why?"

  "Because momma knows these things."

  A multitude of thoughts and questions soar through my mind. I don't know exactly where to start. "Does India know that they're married?"

  "I don't know… more than likely she does… but, then again, I really don't know."

  This has to be a surprise of a lifetime. What Momma Nicki has divulged to me is much more than I'm capable of handling. After I re-acclimate myself with reality, I thank Momma Nicki for her time and head out.

  This is not what I was expecting.

  How can Rome be married, and even worse how does Storm allow other women in their marital bed?

  This has to be some kind of mistake.

  Or is it?

  I am asking myself question after question as none of it makes sense to me, and here is the worse part. As much as I love living in the House of Rome, and I do indeed, and connecting with the girls, the can't-live-without-it sex that Rome grants me so rarely, and all the outrageous fun we have together, I can no longer live there. It's a decision I dread making, but at this moment, I have no other option. The only thing worse than sleeping with a married man is doing it right in front of his wife's face.

  Still parked in Momma Nicki's driveway, I am a wreck inside my car. I stare into space, the butterflies in my stomach doing a tap dance as I still have so many questions.

  Why does Storm allow this?

  How does India fit into all of this?

  How do I fit into all of this?

  Does India know?

  As difficult as it is for me to make the decision that I am about to make, I have to do it. I absolutely must leave. Knowing what I know now, I cannot and will not be a part of this unconventional lifestyle any longer.

  Period.

  End of story.