She turned and welcomed the arms of her friends as they walked her off the porch and away from a man that she knew was a stranger to her.
Renee accepted the glass of red sangria Aria handed her and Jaime. Truly she wanted—needed—something more. Something stronger that would numb the pain and not just serve as a cute summer refreshment for three friends reconnecting.
“Aria, do you have a mirror?” Jaime asked, gently touching the tender bruises on her neck with her fingertips.
“Sure do. I’ll go get it.” Aria walked into the kitchen from where they sat on the deck at the rear of the house.
Renee eyed Jaime over the rim of her wine goblet. “Why didn’t you tell us the truth?”
Jaime shrugged. “Pride. Stupidity. Trying to please everybody but myself,” she admitted, smoothing the cotton maxi dress Aria had given her to wear.
“I thought you and Eric had the perfect marriage,” Renee said.
Jaime shook her head. “We gave the perfect performance.”
Aria walked out onto the deck with the mirror in one hand and the pitcher of sangria in the other. She handed Jaime the mirror and refreshed Renee’s glass. “I’ve been trying to call Kingston, but his phone is off,” she said.
“No worries now, huh?” Jaime said.
Aria did a double take. “I will never sleep, trust and believe that, but I do owe him an apology for this Jessa bullshit. Hell, I’m still not sure he’ll forgive me when he believes I should have trusted him.”
“That is lightweight compared to me and Eric,” Jaime said, studying the bruises on her neck in the mirror.
Renee took the whole goblet to the head in one gulp, drawing Aria’s and Jaime’s questioning stares. “What? Walk in these size tens and then judge me,” she drawled, closing her eyes and leaning back against the wicker chaise lounge.
“Jackson still bitching about you working?” Jamie asked.
Renee opened one eye. “I wish. Hmph, I spent that whole day worrying about Jessa Bell only to have my husband come home to tell me he’d had a one night-stand—”
Jaime grimaced.
“And she’s pregnant,” Renee added.
“Oooh.” Jaime looked to Aria, who solemnly nodded in confirmation.
Renee shook her head as she tapped a fingernail against her empty goblet, signaling she needed a refill. “And she’s white. Blond hair, blue-eyed white.”
Aria shook her head. “Not the olive-skinned brunette who might pass for a mixed sistah or a Latina?”
Renee scoffed. “Hell to the no.”
“Wow. I know it’s 2011 and it shouldn’t matter and the world should be color-blind and all that good shit, but that is insult on top of injury right there.” Aria sat up in her chair.
“Why? Pussy is pussy,” Jaime said. “The fact is Jackson had an affair with another woman and who cares if she’s blue, black, green, or white. It doesn’t make it more wrong because she’s white. It’s just wrong period.”
“Yes, but I would feel like is she offering him something he’s always coveted and how can you compete with this myth of the freaky white chicks who swallow, butt fuck, and the whole nine.”
“So there are no freaky black women?” Jaime asked in disbelief.
“Listen, there’s not a damn thing me and Kingston haven’t done and I mean nothing, even down to golden showers . . . but there is this idea white chicks are complacent and giving and serving and we’re just the angry black bitches who don’t let a man be a man and ya-ya-ya and all that dumb shit. It’s more than another woman, it’s competing with a myth. That’s all I’m saying.”
Renee sighed. “So maybe I was that stereotypical strong black woman who pushed my husband into the arms of this white woman?”
Aria just held up her hands. “But that’s not your fault or your issue, it’s Jackson’s. You did nothing wrong and he shoulda dealt with whatever issues y’all had better and gotten to the root of why he is so afraid of you having a career.”
Renee smiled. “That therapy is something, huh?”
Aria shrugged. “Now that the mystery is solved I’m ready to throw up a deuce to the therapy, but I did learn that there’s a reason for everything.”
Renee looked off into the distance. “Sometimes I feel like my life is a movie and I’m just somebody waiting along with all the moviegoers to see how it all turns out.”
She thought about the bottle of tequila stashed away under her mattress. She licked her lips as she craved a drink. The sangria just wasn’t cutting it. “My life went from this romantic love story to a fucking horror show.”
“Are you going to file for divorce?” Jaime asked.
Renee shrugged. “Honestly, my mind hasn’t gotten that far yet.”
Aria sat up in the chair and looked at Renee like she was crazy. “You’re thinking about taking Jackson back, Renee? Hell to the no.”
The thirst for the tequila grew.
“You’re wrong, Aria. Don’t ever say what you will or will not take or do or say because you never know until you’re in the position to decide.” Jaime reached over and patted Renee’s hand. “It’s your marriage, your pain, your decision.”
“Wow. I know you are not coming with the holier-than-thou, forgive-and-forget, marriage-is-’til-death crap?”
“And I know you’re not sitting on your high horse pushing your opinion on other people like she doesn’t have a mind of her own?” Jaime snapped back.
Renee held up her hands. “Ladies, we just rediscovered our friendship. Please don’t ruin it, because we need each other more than ever,” she admitted, her voice hoarse with emotion.
Aria and Jaime nodded in agreement.
Renee rose to her feet, unable to fight the desire brewing in her. “Bathroom break,” she said, moving across the deck to enter the house.
She didn’t go through the kitchen and down the hall to the half a bathroom. Instead, she made her way to the living room and grabbed a bottle of gin from the built-in bar. Renee had barely unscrewed the cap before she tilted the bottle up and took a deep swig from it. Once, twice, three times. Wincing at the burn of the liquor down her throat, she quickly screwed the cap back on as she welcomed the familiar warmth of the liquor.
“Take the edge off a little bit,” she whispered into the room as she set the bottle back.
Renee made her way to the bathroom, securely closing the door before she plopped down onto the commode. She didn’t bother with turning on the light, welcoming the cool darkness and the quiet as she waited for the effects of the liquor to kick in.
She didn’t want to hear her friends analyzing why her husband had fucked another woman. She didn’t want to hear that she was a fool because she hadn’t already run to a divorce attorney. She wanted to get drunk. Fucked up. High off some liquor. And then go home and sleep. In her dreams Jackson hadn’t fucked her over. In her dreams she was happy. In her dreams all her drama was forgotten.
Renee bent over, pressing her elbows into her knees, as she rubbed her eyes with her fingertips.
One thing kept fucking with her though. Why did the concept of her working threaten Jackson so much? Was Aria right? Was there a reason for everything? And did it really even matter?
Aria turned as Renee stumbled through the doors onto the deck. She frowned. “Are you okay?” she asked her.
Renee fanned herself. “Girl, that sangria sneaks up on you,” she said airily, before dropping down onto the chaise lounge.
“Well, no more for you,” Aria teased.
“No, no, I’m good. No more for me.”
Aria picked up her cell phone and dialed Kingston again. It went straight to voice mail. She wanted to talk to him. The storm in their marriage was over. It was time to get back to their lives.
She eyed both Renee and Jaime, both lost in their thoughts, and she was grateful that the abundance of marital drama hadn’t hit her marriage. Yet.
Tomorrow when he walked through the door she planned to meet him butt naked as the day s
he was born, on her knees, mouth open and tongue ready to suck the life from his dick where he stood.
Maybe it’s time to tell Kingston the truth.
Aria shook her head slightly as she watched the chunks of fruit circle in her sangria. At least let him know having children may be a challenge....
She took a deep sip of the drink. But what if his desire for children is greater than his desire for me?
“My marriage was a lie,” Jaime admitted softly, shaking her head as she lowered it. “My life was a lie.”
Renee yawned, her eyelids drooping lazily, as she looked at Jaime. “Secrets and lies are the kryptonite of a healthy marriage.”
Aria shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the weight of her own secrets and lies weighing her down. Tell him, Aria. Tell Kingston.
“If the secrets and the lies are part of the foundation of your marriage . . . Hmph. Just how solid is it?” Renee asked, her words slurring a bit.
“Especially when the secrets are used by an undercover slut on the prowl for your man,” Aria added, thinking of Jessa’s earlier taunt.
Crazy is lying to your husband about being able to have children, or almost having an affair with your gay assistant, or stealing money from the husband who busted his ass to give you everything—after you’re caught cheating.
Jessa had all of their secrets ready and aimed like an arsenal. Aria already knew about Renee’s near affair, but she decided not to mention the money Jaime must have taken from Eric when she left him. No need adding fuel to the fire.
It was obvious that she wasn’t the only one who’d fucked up and trusted Jessa Bell as not just a friend but a confidant.
The sound of a gentle snore caused Aria to eye Renee, who was stretched out on the lounge, head tilted back and mouth slightly ajar.
“She gon’ fuck around and inhale a fly,” Aria joked, glad for a diversion from her thoughts.
Jaime chuckled. “That would be so wrong.”
“But sooooo funny.”
Renee mumbled something in her sleep as she shifted onto her side.
“I’m real sorry that y’all are going through these storms in your marriages,” Aria said with honesty.
Jaime shrugged. “I—we—had no right getting married,” she admitted. “We weren’t ready. We didn’t even know each other. Thank God we never had kids. More of a clean break, you know.”
Aria squinted her eyes as she took a sip of her sangria. She had to bat her eyelashes to fight back the swell of sudden tears. It struck a nerve deep within her to hear Jaime be thankful for not having a child when she would give up anything and everything to have her body filled with Kingston’s child. Anything. Everything.
“Excuse me, girl,” Aria said awkwardly, rising to her feet and rushing into the house just a second before the tears fell and her body shook.
Most of the time she was able to bury that longing deep. Push it aside. Pretend she didn’t care. Make like it was all right.
She wished she could have children, but not every wish was granted. She would never be a mother and that fact left a hole in her that nothing could fill. “Oh God,” she wailed, bringing her hands up to wipe some of the free-flowing tears from her face. She hugged and rocked herself but none of it could fill that void.
“Aria?”
At the so und of Jaime’s voice, Aria took deep calming breaths and quickly wiped away her tears. She turned just as Jaime stepped through the patio doors into the kitchen.
“I’m gonna hit the road because Eric keeps calling me and I’m headed back to my side of town before he decides to stroll his silly ass over here,” she said, setting her wine goblet in the sink.
“So he doesn’t know where your new house is?” Aria asked, keeping her back to Jaime as she pretended to look through the refrigerator.
“No, thank God.”
Feeling like her tears had dried up enough, Aria pulled out a colander of rinsed grapes and closed the refrigerator door. “I think you’re handling this Jessa Bell thing—affair, mess, whatever—really well,” Aria told her.
Jaime picked up the paper shopping bag sitting on one of the stools surrounding the massive island. It held the infamous robe. “With trying to focus on getting back into interior design and taking a little time to find out just who the fuck I am, I can’t let it sidetrack me. You know? I mean, I’m hurt, I’m angry, I’m disappointed, but I’m moving on. I got to get my shit together ASAP.”
Aria smiled in genuine pleasure. “Wow. You are so different now. Jaime Hall working?”
She nodded with a smile that was the most genuine Aria had ever seen. “I gotta be happy, you know.”
Aria leaned forward against the edge of the island. “And does Pleasure make you happy?” she asked teasingly.
Jaime flushed. “He’s just a friend.”
Hmph. “Well, then, you wouldn’t mind me referring your friend . . . who strips . . . to my cousin for her bachelorette party?” Aria asked, her eyes locked on Jaime’s face for the slightest hint of her giving a fuck.
She wasn’t disappointed.
Jaime’s expression instantly switched to annoyed. She quickly tried to cover it. “I don’t care,” she said nonchalantly.
“Bitch puh-leeze,” Aria said, laughing. “That Negro got you sprung.”
Jaime hid a smile behind her goblet.
“That dick good, ain’t it?” Aria stretched her leg and tapped Jaime’s thigh with her French-manicured toes. “Huh? Ain’t it, girl? Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.”
“Okay, yes,” Jaime roared at Aria’s insistence. “It’s damn good—”
Aria raised her glass in a toast to Pleasure’s dick.
“But he’s not my man. It’s not like that at all,” Jaime stressed.
“Even better. Twice the dick with half the headache. Sounds like a fucking plan to me, boo-boo.” Aria took a big gulp of sangria on that.
“It wasn’t that Eric was like extra small or deformed,” Jaime admitted, sounding slightly bashful. “Just compared to Pleasure he . . . you know . . . comes up a little short.” But hell Pleasure got the dick of a horse.
Aria leaned forward, wishing she wasn’t visualizing Eric naked. “Well, we could hear y’all arguing through the door and, well, you know, I uh, I just, uh, you know, assumed that was the . . . you know . . . problem.”
Jaime rolled her eyes. “ ‘It’s not the size of the boat, it’s the motion of the ocean’ can go two ways, you know.”
Aria nodded in agreement. “Yes, girl, Hector Sanchez. That’s all I have to say. Hector Sanchez.”
Jaime laughed as Aria shivered in mock disgust.
“Damn shame for eleven inches of pure hard dick to be so boring. Oh my goodness. Lawd have mercy. No way. Hell no. Hell. To. The. No.”
Jaime sat her glass down and pointed at Aria. “Yes! Yeessss! That’s how IT was with Eric! It wasn’t even wham bam. There’s was no wham and to hell with the bam.”
Aria shook her head and held up her hand. “Just a dead dick.”
“And no chemistry. No sparks. Just going through the motions. . . .” Jaime looked off into the distance as she frowned and then shrugged helplessly.
Aria watched her. She couldn’t imagine not having that intense connection with Kingston. Just his touch made her shiver and the right look in his eyes made her wet. Chemistry was everything. Everything.
“I guess he had that spark, the excitement, the passion or whatever with Jessa and Lord knows I got it with Pleasure,” she admitted, a smile spreading across her face like sunshine after a hard rain.
Aria licked the last remnants of her IMAN gloss from her lips. “Jessa is moving back to Richmond Hills,” she said, knowing that of the three, Jaime might find that the hardest to swallow. Aria decided to drop the bomb just like pulling off a Band-Aid.
Jaime’s mouth fell open a bit and her eyes widened. “No. She wouldn’t,” she said, more in disbelief and disapproval than question.
Aria snorted in derision. “That bitch is g
oing to make me catch a case. Straight up.”
Jaime bit her bottom lip as she shook her head. “She’s not worth it,” she said softly but firmly. “All she did was finally expose the cancer that she was in our clique and we don’t need that. We don’t need her. Fuck her.”
“I don’t travel the high road too often, Jaime, and this shit—fucking Eric, sending that message, betraying all of us—deserves a beatdown and she really thinks she just gon’ stroll around Richmond Hills and be at all the same functions and events like she don’t know she need her ass whipped!” Aria’s hand slashed the air. “Bullshit. Complete and total bullshit, Jaime.”
Jaime reached over and grabbed Aria’s hand, squeezing it. “It’s okay. I don’t live here anymore. Remember?”
Aria winked. “It ain’t over ’til it’s over.”
Jaime just shook her head.
As Renee released another snort in her sleep, Aria reached for her vibrating cell phone. Hoping it was Kingston her heart raced as she eyed the caller ID. “Hey, baby,” she sighed, standing up from the chair to walk into the kitchen.
Kingston laughed. “You sound like you’re in a better mood,” he said.
Aria closed her eyes and just absorbed the vibrant energy he gave her. Just the sound of his voice made her pulse race. That was the chemistry Jaime had spoken of.
“I am. I can’t wait for you to get home, but I am so sorry, Kingston, for how crazy I’ve been acting lately,” she said, pressing the phone so tightly to her face that she swore she felt the keypad against her cheek.
“What happened?” he asked.
Aria pulled the phone away from her face to look at it before she frowned and pressed it back to her face. “Why did something have to happen? And how do you know something happened?” she asked, instantly suspicious and on her guard.
“There is no way you would apologize for no reason. Not Mrs. ‘Ride-or-Die’ Aria Livewell,” he insisted.
She eyed Jaime through the window before she turned and sucked air between her teeth. “Okay, you’re right, but we’ll talk about it after you get home.”
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