by Cydney Rax
“You could watch. I can teach you a few tricks.”
“Ha, in your dreams. But no thanks. I am not into voyeurism.”
She laughs, this time with much more sincerity, but I feel too conflicted to join in.
—24—
VERON
When Seaphes calls me hours after I get home from the hair salon, I don’t pick up. And when he calls me again a couple of hours after the last time, I give him the busy button. Even though I want to talk to him, and he obviously wants to talk to me.
This is so stupid, I say to myself. Is this what it takes for Demetria to get all her men?
—25—
DEMETRIA
“You want me to get him on the phone?” I ask Veron. We’re hanging out at her crib a week after the beauty salon, finishing up lunch.
“No, that’s okay. I just don’t understand why he hasn’t gotten back to me. I finally accepted his call, we talked and worked things out, and we were all set to go on this date, and now I haven’t heard from him.”
“See, girl, I told you, you gotta watch out for him. He does things that are ignorant as hell.”
“It makes him look bad,” Vee admits, “and all these nice things that he did don’t seem to mean anything now.”
“You still got food on your plate,” I tell her. I grab a fork and stick it into a wide piece of lettuce, onions, and fat chunks of feta cheese. “Mmm, this is some good stuff.” I chew a little. “Listen, Vee, you have to nip this kind of behavior. Like the book says, the things you start out doing is what’s going to keep happening. So everything your boy does now, he’s gonna keep doing it unless you tell him to make changes.”
Vee laughs even though I hardly cracked a joke.
“I feel like this is my fault,” I tell her, trying to shift the blame to myself. I know I need to chill out, but these strong urges to be closely involved overtake me.
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“I just feel like if I hadn’t been so hard on him for continually fucking up he might have called already.”
“Huh. Come to think of it, yeah. Maybe that’s it.”
“Hold up.” I grab my phone, dial Seaphes, and place the call on speaker.
“Hey, Seaphes, this is Demetria. Why haven’t you called Vee? We were all supposed to go out this week.”
“Listen, Demetria. I overheard your conversation with Veron on Monday at work and didn’t appreciate you telling her that—” I push the speakerphone button so that only I can hear him. I know what he’s talking about. On Monday I let something slip about Seaphes kissing me. I covered it up by saying I meant that he kissed me on the cheek, but he must not have heard that part.
“Well, she needs to know that you can be friendly at times, and that it shouldn’t be misinterpreted,” I tell him.
“Whatever, Demetria. That pissed me off.”
“Then you should have hung around and defended yourself,” I say, walking into the other room so Vee can’t hear.
“I shouldn’t have to defend myself from you! Listen, what happens between me and Veron should stay that way.”
“Okay,” I pout, feeling like he’s socked me in the jaw. “I will try to do better.”
“Are you sure? ’Cause I’m not trying to get messed up with two women here. I like her, but it’s just been too much.”
I promise, and before we hang up, I tell him about the mix-up that he overheard and how I fixed it.
“Vee, I’m about to leave. He’s coming over. He told me to stay outta y’all’s business.”
“Oh, girl. I know you’ve been talking to both of us, but I guess he just means that we gotta work things out on our own. But I need you.”
“Girl, I’m not going anywhere. I’ve invested a lot into this so I gotta know what’s going on.” I feel bad. I really didn’t mean to fuck all this up for my friend. I love Vee, and I can’t let temptation get the better of me. I say, “You know, I just need to learn how to shut my big-ass mouth sometimes.”
“You know what?” she says. “I think you’re right.”
After I finally get out of Vee’s house, after she’s made me eat another helping and talked my ear off, I text Seaphes, and ask him to call ASAP. Ten minutes later he’s on the phone.
“Okay, go over there and make that girl feel better.”
“Listen, Demetria, I just told you to stay out of my business, and I mean it. I already told her I’m coming over; I don’t need your help here. And anyway, I can’t tell whether you trying to help your friend out or whether you want to get with me.”
Pouting, I tell him, “I do wanna help her out, but I…”
“You like me, too?”
“It’s not that I like you like you. I just want to know what kind of man you’d be in a relationship.”
“Do you want to know for yourself, or for your friend?”
“It’s all about Veron. You just have to go over there. And remember, you need to step things up.” I envision him putting his hands all over her body, caressing her like he caressed me. I instantly get horny.
“Seaphes, wait,” I plead. “Don’t go. Tell her something came up.”
“What?”
“I wanna see you. Can you meet me back at my place? But park in my garage.”
“Woman, you’re tripping big-time.”
“Whatev. I just want to share some info with you before you hook up with her.”
“Why can’t you tell me over the phone?”
“Because.”
When he doesn’t say anything, I command him, “Just tell Veron you have to pick up a part for my computer. And be back at my crib within an hour.” And I hang up.
—26—
SEAPHES
As soon as Demetria ends the call, I turn to Veron, who’s sitting at the breakfast table. “Your friend is something else.”
“Isn’t she greasy-acting? What was she yakking about this time?”
Right after Demetria sent me a text, I called Veron and told her I was coming to see her. She met me outside while I was talking to Demetria and heard the end of our conversation.
“I haven’t finished repairing her computer, so she wants me to pick up a part and get it done today.” I don’t know why I’m defending this girl. I guess it’s because, underneath all the bullshit, I can see she’s wounded.
“So you’re going to go and help her out?”
I’m surprised. “You think I should?”
“Yeah, I guess,” she says. But then she stops herself and I can see wheels turning in her head. “Actually, on second thought, no. I don’t want you to go fix her computer. I don’t have to be number two here. And anyway,” she says, her soft voice bursting with an overpowering huskiness that I’ve never heard before, “there’re some things that need fixing over here.”
I swallow hard. “What do you need me to fix?”
“Follow me,” she commands. I leave my BlackBerry on the counter and am right on her heels.
She stands at the door of her bedroom. The covers are partially falling off her bed, some magazines strewn on the floor. I know this must be driving her nuts, that I’m seeing this. But when I reach down to pick up the cover, she surprises me again by touching my hand. “Don’t worry about that. Have a seat.”
I sit down on a chair next to her bed. She grabs a black bandana and says, “You’re going to have to trust me,” and she begins wrapping the bandana around my head until it fully covers my eyes.
“Can you see anything?” she asks with a smile in her voice.
“Not a damn thing.”
“Good, I’ll be back,” she says, imitating the Terminator.
I hear a door opening and closing and am tempted to peek and see what’s going on, but I behave myself since she wants me to trust her. She returns five minutes later. I hear her fidgeting with what sounds like a radio. A sensual ballad softly plays in the background. I smile, wondering what the heck this mysterious woman is up to.
“Okay,” she says, “
you’re in for a big surprise. I want you to keep quiet and just do as I tell you.”
I gulp. “Yes, ma’am.”
Veron gently removes the bandana. When I see her first thing I want to do is laugh. She’s wearing some black reading glasses that are sitting on the bridge of her nose. Her hair is tied up in a tight bun. She looks like someone who works behind the desk of a library. I lick my lips and watch her every move. She’s wearing a gray business skirt suit and some high heels. As the music plays she tries to look serious, slowly gyrating her hips back and forth to the rhythm and rocking her head from side to side and rubbing her fingers all over lips, and cheeks and chin. She bites her bottom lip, then sticks her middle finger in her mouth and licks it like it’s a Popsicle.
I lick my lips again. Boy, it’s getting hot in here. She comes closer to me and thrusts her chest at my face. She begins to slowly unbutton the suit jacket, watching me and locking her eyes with mine. Soon the jacket is crumpled on the floor, and her Wonderbra bulges with her cleavage.
“Ahhh,” I murmur.
“Shhh,” she scolds and continues slowly wiggling her hips, pumping her torso, and leaving her mouth partially open. She unzips and removes the skirt, showing nothing but some white bikini panties and matching lace bra. She squeezes her breasts together and licks her lips again. My dick is throbbing.
“You like what you see, Seaphes?” she whispers.
“You know I—”
“Shhh,” she scolds again and turns around, then wiggles her ass in my face.
“Veron,” I gasp wanting to reach out and touch her.
Veron removes her glasses, then unfastens the ponytail and lets her hair down. She slowly starts lowering her bikini panties just below her belly button, then pulls them back up.
“Why you stop?” I pant. “Keep going.”
“Can’t.”
“Why not?” I gasp.
“I gotta first read what this magazine says to do next.”
“You gotta be joking.”
“Nope, I learned this from a magazine.”
I groan and want to shake this woman, but I can’t.
“Well, Veron, you’ve done a great job so far at making me feel good.”
She finally smiles widely at me and moves her face near mine. “I was hoping you’d say that. Because you’re an expert at making a woman feel good, too.”
I smile and lean over to kiss her pouty lips. She beams at me. “See, that’s what I’m talking about, Seaphes. I love so many things about you. You’re smart, handsome, caring. And you really know how to make me feel so good.” Her smile abruptly fades and her facial expression is solemn. “And,” she continues, “I realize that I’m not the only woman who’s attracted to you.” She says this like it’s a fact, not something that can be questioned.
I don’t say anything. She pauses, then blurts, “Ursula.”
I cringe, feeling sick. “What about her?”
“Don’t give me that look as if you don’t care about her or aren’t attracted to her. I saw how you’ve looked at her in meetings. I’ve seen you two flirting at work, seen you staring at her walk past. And while I think I look pretty good, I am nothing like her.”
“But who says you have to be? See, that’s where females make mistakes. They think men only like one type of woman. It’s not true. You’re the one who I think is gorgeous.”
“Really?” she says, looking up at me with her big brown eyes for a moment before she shrugs her shoulders as if she doesn’t believe me. I wonder what I can do with this woman-child. Because I know for sure I can hurt her. It seems like her faith in me is undeserved, like at times she’s describing a man I don’t recognize. Yet the beauty of her innocence inspires and soothes my soul. And I’m starting to feel as though that’s the type of connection I need to focus on at this point in my life. I’m going to take Demetria’s advice and take this up a notch.
“May I?” I ask and get up to grab the bandana. I gesture at the chair so she may sit down and I tie the bandana tightly around her eyes.
“What are you doing, young man?” she asks, giggling.
“You’re going to have to trust me!” I say.
I finish up. “Veron?”
“Yep.” I remove the bandana.
“You may open your eyes now.”
She slowly opens her eyes, and then screams.
“Sorry! Sorry!”
“Why aren’t you wearing any clothes? Seaphes, you’re scaring me.”
Face red, I slide on my trousers and zip them up. She’s now covering her eyes and repeatedly whispering, “Oh my God.”
When I clumsily pull my shirt over my head, I say, “Okay, I’m decent now.”
She looks up and stares at me. “What was that all about? What are you doing?”
“I-I just thought I’d…I mean…” I trail off. I feel so uncomfortable. We look at each other for a minute, and finally I just leave the bedroom and head toward the living room. My hand is on the front door before she catches me, shaking her head and pointing to the couch. I go take a seat while she stands in front of me.
“I don’t get it, Seaphes. Sure, I did the sensual dance for you, but when we make that move I still want things to happen naturally. Plus I heard something recently that said that if a man is forced to wait before he sleeps with a woman, he’ll think of her as more beautiful, more desirable, and it will make him appreciate who she is.”
She sounds like she’s quoting words verbatim. It’s so strange. I thought she was feeling me.
“I didn’t mean to offend you. I don’t know why I did that. No, wait. I do know why. I feel very attracted to you, Veron. But you give me this feeling of uncertainty. I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” I say with an embarrassing laugh.
“No, go on. Please explain.”
“You are like a tender flower and parts of you make me want to protect you and teach you things that’ll help you. But then there are other parts of you, and I don’t know what those parts are, how they fit in with the rest of you.”
“I’m sorry, Seaphes. I try to do what other people say…follow rules, yet I’m so afraid. So scared,” she says, biting her bottom lip. “I want to make sure to always do the right thing, because, point-blank, I don’t want to be hurt.”
“None of us do. And I’m glad you told me. Even if you’re afraid, I need you to—”
“Listen,” she says, that hard look back on her face. “I’m not going to open up just because you want me to. You’ll just end up taking my feelings for granted. There is a way this all needs to play out, and—”
“You sound too much like a magazine article. I just want you to be real with me, Veron. Listen, I have to go, I’m sorry.” I start to walk toward the door, but she catches my arm.
“Wait,” she says, biting her lip again. “I’ll try, okay? I’ll try to be real.”
There’s that girl I know. I give her a kiss, a long sweet one, before I leave.
—27—
DEMETRIA
I keep myself busy in the house and wait for Seaphes for more than an hour, which is unheard of for me. So when the man doesn’t have the decency to call, text, e-mail, or send me a same-day multicolored rose delivery, I decide it’s time for me to take some action, even if it’s just to make myself feel better. I make an appointment for later that day at the salon that did my pedicure. It’s time to take things to a new level. It takes five hours for me to get the type of services I want. And by the time I leave, the price tag added up to four hundred bucks, but this hairdo makes me look completely different, as does the beauty products I get. It’s an entirely new look, and it’s worth five Gs.
When Sunday rolls around without a phone call from either Seaphes or Veron, I send Darren a text.
“Hi D.F.”
He shoots me one right back.
“Hey baby.”
I giggle and let my fingers fly across my BlackBerry.
“Hey, what u doing?”
“Thinking about u. U w
anna c me? Right now?”
I think about how sweet it would be to have Darren come visit me after thinking all weekend about the disrespectful rejection I got from Seaphes.
“Maybe. What u have in mind?” I text back.
“I got $$$. Let’s go eat.”
I laugh, surprised. “Where u get $$$.”
“Rob a bank 4u baby.”
“That’s my man,” I write back, laughing my ass off. I’m glad Darren is trying so hard to please me.
Darren arrives at my crib twenty minutes later in his seven-year-old black Lexus. His brother gave him the car, but whatev, it still looks good.
He meets me at my front door, grabs me in a tight hug, and takes me by the arm to escort me to his ride.
“Hmmm, this is different,” I tell him and smile. I feel less distracted than I’ve felt all day.
“Yeah, I know, baby girl. We need to connect outside the bedroom, you know what I’m saying?”
“I hear what you’re saying. I love what you’re saying, too.”
He opens my door and makes sure I’ve settled in before jumping in to the driver side. “I mean, I love eating you out, but I love to eat out, too, you know what I’m saying?”
“I feel the same fucking way, Darren.” We laugh as if sharing a private joke. And when we pull into the crowded parking lot of the China Bear restaurant on I-45, I don’t even pitch a fit. Sure, an eight-dollar Chinese buffet is nowhere near my usual standards, but I surprise myself by remembering that the fact that he even showed up on such short notice means he values me. After we are seated in the restaurant, Darren piles my plate high with whatever food he thinks I should try. Some of it is nasty-looking stuff that I swear will never touch my mouth. But when he sits next to me and looks me in the eye, feeding me a forkful, I silently obey him. I’m feeling good, enjoying our relaxing time together. And the fact that he can’t stop telling me how fly I look with the new ’do…well, he might as well have given me ten Gs, that’s how rich he’s making me feel.