Ashlee yelled, “Nurse! Nurse!”
Darius had zoned out and forgot Kevin couldn’t breathe. Kevin’s face was red, his body limp. The veins in his neck spoke the words he couldn’t. Peeling his fingers away, Darius’s imprint remained. Ashlee was in the background, still screaming. As the nurse entered, Darius punched Kevin in the face, knocking him to the floor.
“You lucky I don’t have my gun with me or I’d blow your fucking brains out. You have two days to get me money or else the next time I see you you’ll be saying hello to your other brother. My brotha.”
Walking out, Darius mumbled, “Why is everybody fuckin’ with me?”
CHAPTER 18
Did it matter who was right or wrong? Fancy was willing to forgive Darius; for what, she didn’t know, but whatever was keeping the two of them apart was driving her insane. Fancy keyed in sixty-nine on her cellular phone to call Darius.
Darius answered, “Hey, Lady—”
Fancy pressed the END button. Maybe later. Fancy had to keep the promise she’d made to herself and not call Darius. Nothing good had ever materialized from relationships in which Fancy cared more about the man than he cared for her. And perhaps it was too late to adjust her feelings, and she was truly in love, but her actions didn’t have to dictate her love for Darius. It was okay to wait for Darius to call, and through her reactions reassure him that he was loved. If Darius wanted Fancy, he’d have to pursue her.
Darius had ended their relationship, shutting her out. He refused to communicate his feelings about their issues but he’d talk nonstop about basketball. Fancy had grown irritable, listening to Darius brag about himself simply to hear his voice while holding on to threads of hope of repairing their relationship. What could she do to stop obsessing over Darius? Fancy didn’t want to visit her mother but she had to do something to avoid thinking about Darius so much.
Visiting her mother was difficult but Fancy’s lime green strap-up four-inch heels, which crisscrossed up her legs to her knees, crept up Caroline’s blue stairway. Fancy cringed as she knocked on the door. She wasn’t in the mood to spend time with Caroline but she couldn’t spend another day in her condo keeping herself from everyone except her clients.
Opening the door, Caroline said, “Hey, Fancy. Come on in. What brings you by?” Caroline’s hair was a mess. Uncombed. Rough around the edges. She could use a touch-up. The thin, floral print cotton robe loosely covered Caroline.
Following Caroline into her bedroom, Fancy said, “Just wanted to say hello to my mother. Since you’ve got a new man you don’t return my calls anymore.”
Caroline had the same full-sized bed, scratched wooden headboard, nightstands, and dresser with a wood-trimmed mirror she’d had for God knew how many years. One day Fancy would buy her mother a new bedroom set. Fancy sat on the same side of the bed as Caroline, a few feet away from her mother.
“Now, I know you, Fancy, and you never just want to say hello. I hear the real estate business is going well for you.”
“Yes, it is. I have a nine-figure deal in the pipeline, and when it closes I’ll be a millionaire.”
Caroline’s eyes widened. “Really?”
The conversation wasn’t intended to center on Fancy or her money, so Fancy answered, “Yes, really. How’s the man in your life? Mr. Marvin.”
Fancy’s mother had a man and Fancy didn’t. Where was Darius? What was he doing? Who was he doing? Was he thinking of Fancy? Missing her? Or laughing with some other woman? Holding her in his arms the way he once held Fancy?
“He’s wonderful. We’re engaged. And I’m pregnant.” Caroline smiled wide.
Fancy’s jaw dropped at the same time. “Pregnant? Mother, at your age? You’re too old to have a baby.”
“If that fifty-seven-year-old woman can have twins, I can have a baby, too. I’m not even forty.”
“I don’t believe you. You’re a lousy mom. You have to have an abortion.”
“Fancy, this is not your life. It’s mine. I know I wasn’t the best mother to you. I wasn’t ready for a child when I had you. And if I could’ve understood then what I know now, that being a woman doesn’t guarantee you’ll be a good mother, I would’ve listened to your father and aborted you with the money he’d given me.”
Standing over Caroline, Fancy refused to cry. Not yet, she told herself. Not yet. “Well, at least this baby will know its father and hopefully have a mother that can tell him or her that she loves them.”
“So that’s why you came. You finally worked up the courage to ask me who your father is. Sit down.”
Not really. Fancy wasn’t sure if she sat because her legs were weak or because she finally had a chance to know who her father was. Fancy sat next to Caroline on the bed, holding her own hands. “Wait. You haven’t told me all this time. Maybe I don’t want to know.”
“No, you have a right to know. But promise me you’ll make an appointment with Mandy to discuss this.”
Fancy sprang to her feet and said, “Naw, that’s okay.” Maybe Fancy should apologize for having called Mandy a bitch but if knowing her father was going to be all bad, Caroline should keep her secret. “Maybe I’m better off not knowing him. I gotta go.”
“Sit, Fancy,” Caroline said, patting the empty space next to her. “You remember the day you called the police and had Thaddeus arrested?”
“And?”
“I’m so sorry, baby. But Thaddeus is your father.”
The weight of Fancy’s body slumped to the floor. Kneeling, she yelled, “Mama, no! How could you? So you let me lock up my father without telling me? What in the world were you thinking? He’d forgive me? Or he’d never be released from prison? He’s out, Mama!” Fancy cried, “What am I supposed to say to him?”
“I’m so sorry, Fancy. But I know you’ll think of something.” Caroline began crying as she continued sitting on her bed.
“Don’t you cry. I hate you! Now I see why you can’t tell me you love me. You don’t love yourself. How could you!” Fancy stared at the blue closet, remembering the day Franze had raped her then locked her in the closet until she promised not to tell. Looking at her mother, Fancy said, “I wasn’t trying to hurt him. I just wanted my mother. To myself. But you were too busy getting laid to notice. Just like with this Marvin guy. Every man in your life comes before—” Fancy stood, forcing back her tears. “All I ever wanted was you and for you to tell me that you love me. And you still can’t give me that. That’s okay. One day I’ll find somebody to love.” Fancy loved Darius and hoped he loved her, because right now Fancy needed to be held.
Caroline sat there crying hard, as if she was the one wounded. Now Fancy hated her mother and felt bad for incarcerating her father. She left Caroline’s house without saying good-bye. From now on Fancy would just call her mother Caroline like she had done most of her life because she had never felt like Caroline was her mother.
Picking up her cellular while driving, Fancy dialed SaVoy’s number. She really wanted to talk to Desmond, but he didn’t answer her calls after five o’clock. The time in California was two-thirty but five-thirty in Atlanta. Mandy really was the only one Fancy should talk to but she wasn’t taking or returning her calls. Realizing SaVoy was at church, Fancy terminated the call.
Fancy drove to Mandy’s office, parked across the street on University, and turned off her car. Fancy was so hopeless that if the homeless woman she had seen before was sitting on that bench, Fancy would talk to her. What was Fancy thinking? It was Sunday and Mandy’s office was closed. Fancy cruised down University and sat in her Benz outside Skates restaurant, again contemplating if life was worth living.
Now that Fancy had money, she still wasn’t happy. If she left town, she would still be alone. If she stayed in Oakland, she’d still be lonely. If she killed herself, she’d be free of all the madness. All of her sadness. Reluctantly Fancy sat in her car outside Skates restaurant looking over the waves splashing against the boulders.
“Damn!” Fancy said when she saw Micha
el Baines drive into the parking lot. “Fancy, you’ve got to stop forgetting things.” Instantly Fancy regretted that she’d agreed to meet Michael Baines. She wanted to change the location because the only reason she’d come to Skates was to reminisce about her first date with Darius. Skates was their special place. Maybe it didn’t matter anymore. Why did she continue thinking about Darius when he probably had a woman or several women in Los Angeles?
The phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. It was Darius. Every time Fancy thought of checking out, someone Fancy cared for checked in. She cleared her throat and answered, “This is Fancy Taylor, your realtor of choice,” wanting Darius to hear her professional voice. Darius had replaced Desmond. Fancy didn’t want to rush him but she had to get inside soon for her dinner date. She didn’t want to risk losing her lucrative deal.
“Hey, Laydcat. You busy?”
Ladycat. Fancy missed and loved the way Darius seductively pronounced the syllable “cat.” Except this time he didn’t sound sexy at all. Fancy lied, claiming, “I have a client on the other line,” to give herself time to regroup. Her chest was aching. Fancy could hardly breathe. Closing her eyes, Fancy forced back tears. It felt so good hearing Darius’s caring voice.
“That’s okay. I shouldn’t have called.”
Fancy was angry at Darius for distancing himself from her but couldn’t display that energy lest she pushed him farther away.
“Darius, wait. Please, don’t hang up.” Fancy kept her eyes closed, fearing if she opened them Niagara Falls would emerge. “I miss talking to you. I’ll only be a second.”
Fancy clicked over to her dial tone, inhaled deeply three times while counting to ten, and then switched back to Darius. “Hey, you okay? You sound down.” Fancy cheered herself up to listen when she was the one who needed to talk.
“I wish I could say I’m okay but I’m not. Remember when you asked me about my last girlfriend?”
“Yes.” Now that Fancy loved Darius the person, she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what he had to say. Fancy wanted him back in her life. And she didn’t want to become Darius’s friend, listening to him talk about other women.
“Well, it’s complicated. I thought this woman from my past was pregnant for me. Turns out the baby is my half brother’s kid.”
“Oh, no. Your brother slept with your woman? When did you find that out?” Fancy was relieved that whoever this woman was, she wasn’t a threat to their relationship.
“Yesterday. I wanted to thank you for letting me crash at your place back when. I didn’t want to be alone but didn’t know how to tell you that I needed you.”
“That’s great to hear because I didn’t want to be alone either. You can come back anytime you’d like, but what about your brother?” Fancy had to know what was on Darius’s mind without getting caught up in her emotions. What if he loved someone else?
“I don’t want to talk about Kevin. He made me so mad I almost killed him. Fucking my sister.”
Frowning, Fancy asked, “Fucking your sister? I thought you said this woman was your ex-girlfriend.”
“Damn. Like I said, it’s complicated. One day I’ll tell you the whole story.”
“If you want to see my therapist, I can give you her number.” Maybe if Fancy gave Mandy a referral, Mandy would give Fancy an appointment. Glancing at the clock in her car, twenty minutes had passed and Fancy was twenty-five minutes late.
“A therapist. I’m not crazy.”
“Neither am I. I’m only suggesting. What I’ll do is when we hang up, I’ll call and leave the number on your home voice mail.”
“Whatever, I gotta go. ’Bye.”
Fancy wasn’t suggesting Darius hang up. He made her nervous. Fancy knew he was hurting but he cut her off before she finished talking. Before she could tell Darius her problems, he was gone. She should be glad because, knowing Mr. Baines, he wasn’t going to wait much longer.
Praying Darius was in Oakland, Fancy dialed his home number instead of calling back on his cell. “The number you have reached is not in service. There is no additional information for . . .” Fancy redialed the number and got the same message so she hung up and called Darius’s cell phone, hoping he’d answer. He didn’t, so she left Mandy’s number on his voice mail then said, “I love you, Darius. I want us to work things out. You have no idea how much I truly miss you.” Quietly crying, Fancy held the phone for moment and then hung up.
Michael walked out of Skates, bypassed Fancy’s car, got into his Range Rover, and drove away. Had he seen her? Glancing at the time on her cellular phone, Fancy dialed his number.
“Baines,” was how he answered.
“Hello, Mr. Baines, this is Fancy. I was in the parking lot when I saw you leaving. I can wait if you’d like.”
“You were in the parking lot when you saw me arrive. If you’re not serious about making money, don’t waste my time. I’ll find someone else to do this deal.” He hung up.
Was talking to Darius worth losing over a million dollars? Definitely not. Fancy would have to find another way to deal with balancing her career while trying to love Darius.
CHAPTER 19
Ladycat had undeniably become precious. Darius found himself daydreaming about Fancy. Wanting to be with her more and more, talk to her. But his male ego had decided that Fancy, like all the rest of the women in his life, couldn’t be trusted, so he stayed at his home in L.A. to avoid visiting her. Reluctantly, Darius stopped returning and answering her calls, knowing that soon Fancy wouldn’t call him anymore.
There were only a few more weeks before their exhibition game against a foreign team. Darius was going insane. The few hours spent for his declared major in Business Econ combined with workouts weren’t enough to occupy his time. Like now. Darius had almost four hours to do nothing but wait for practice to start. His one class for the day was over and his homework was done by noon. What the fuck did full-time students with no jobs or extracurricular activities do all day? Hang out on Venice Beach?
Lounging on his sofa, watching the news, Darius prayed that neither Ciara nor Desire was pregnant with his child. Initially, he had been pissed because Ashlee had married Kevin without his permission, but not anymore. In retrospect, God had answered one of his prayers. But if one of the other kids was his, either way Darius would come out a loser. “Lord, thanks for letting Ashlee’s baby be for Kevin. That’s one down, and please let the other two not be mine, too.” The thought of being dedicated to either one of those tricksters for the rest of his child’s life was depressing. Damn, why did Darius have to think about life or death, reminding him his child was supposed to die?
“Fuck!” Darius yelled, hurling the remote across the room.
Pissed with the conniving women who’d complicated his life, Darius was pleased that his mom had reconnected his electricity and his home phone, and against Wellington’s wishes, written Darius a small check for ten grand after he’d told her how he’d pawned the diamond ring for cash. Surely his mother didn’t want that to end up in the newspaper, or the fact that he was determined to forge her signature on a check to pay his bills.
Darius dialed Ciara’s office. After the fourth ring the recorded voice mail message stated, “You have reached CMCA . . .”
Exactly four hours remained before practice so Darius hung up, got in his car, and drove to Ciara’s office. His basketball gear was in his dorm room, a place where Darius spent as little time as possible to avoid the groupies who were becoming increasingly bold about knocking on his door. At least on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays Darius kept his personal adventures private. Monday through Thursday the coach demanded he live on campus and, regardless if his roommate, Lance, was in the room, Darius handled his sexual business.
Ciara’s secretary no longer forwarded Darius’s calls, and Ciara had stopped answering when Darius dialed her cellular and refused to respond to his messages, so Darius decided to show up unannounced, again hoping to walk away a free man.
Darius entered Ciara�
�s lobby and scanned behind the counter. Not a soul in sight. “Good, hopefully Ciara had enough sense to fire that lazy nosy chick,” Darius said, bypassing the secretary’s empty desk.
Darius stood outside Ciara’s door, pressed his ear to the glossy wood, and listened.
“Mmm, yeah. That feels so good. Suck a little harder.”
“Mmm, hmm.”
The moaning and groaning turned him on, causing Slugger to swell and his breathing to increase. “Impeccable timing, she’s at it again,” Darius thought. Licking his lips, Darius punched in the code, held the knob, and then quietly cracked the door open. His eyes bucked in disbelief.
Kimberly Stokes’s head was buried between Ciara’s pregnant thighs.
Darius entered, saying, “Hollywood! Hollywood! Now I bet this scene would gross millions opening night at the box office. Let’s tell your media contacts about this.” He took several snapshots with his camera phone while Kimberly was still on her knees.
“Darius! What the hell?” Ciara’s stomach rolled up as she propped herself up on the loveseat.
Smiling as he took another photo, Darius suggested, “I can wait outside ’til you’re done cumming.” Closing Ciara’s door behind him, Darius waited in the lobby, looking at the pictures he’d taken with his phone. No way would Darius fuck Ciara and Kimberly at the same time but they needed some dick in that equation. So that was the missing component. Ciara and Kimberly were bisexual lovers. Was Kimberly doing Ciara by choice? Or was that how she’d gotten her role? “Don’t know how I missed that one,” Darius mumbled, surfing through the stack of Variety magazines on the rectangular glass-top coffee table.
Soul Mates Dissipate was on the cover of the most recent issue. That was his damn project. Darius’s mother had invited him to the premiere but Darius declined, telling his mom, “That’s like being a guest in my own home.” Darius had produced that film. When the credits rolled hopefully they’d show Darius Jones, not Wellington Jones. “Go. Steal my credits and have fun with your lying husband.” Maybe Darius should storm the red carpet and take Fancy with him so she could see he really was a successful businessman. At one time anyway.
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