by Tracy Brown
Not that Misa didn’t love her son. Shane was the best son a mother could hope for. He was adorable, well mannered, and pretty laid-back for a three-year-old. Misa adored Shane, but was finally getting the chance to live the free-spirited lifestyle she’d forfeited when she became a wife and mother at such a young age. She was grateful for and perhaps a bit jealous of Camille. Camille had no children to weigh her down, and a life of lavish spending and big pimping, courtesy of her role as Frankie B’s wife. If Misa had been lucky enough to stumble into a life like the one her sister enjoyed—a life that was child-free and glamorous—she would have been partying, traveling, and living it up! But not Camille. She was content to sit at home and look like a porcelain doll as she waited for her beloved husband to return home to her each night. Shit, it was only right that Camille babysit, Misa believed. What else did she have to occupy her time?
As she climbed behind the wheel of her brand-new Camry (a pity present from her sister and Frankie B after her rough divorce), Misa thought about her ex-husband, Louis. What a fuckin’ loser. Five years she’d spent with him, and they’d never had a car—let alone a Maybach, like Baron had. Never had their bills been paid on time as Louis struggled to make ends meet. Misa had never wanted to work. She didn’t feel she should ever have to. Camille never did. Misa wanted to live that same type of life, and Louis had been fine with that. After all, the last thing he wanted was Misa squeezing her juicy ass in some business suit and setting off to meet some man who made more money than him. He also didn’t want her to make more money than him. He was happy with her decision to be a stay-at-home mom and care for their son. But, as it turned out, he’d been the one to upgrade, leaving Misa and their son to move in with a woman he met at work. She was a senior executive at a brokerage firm and he was the security guard who worked in the building lobby. When their flirtation turned physical, sparks flew. And it wasn’t long before Misa and Shane got pushed to the background as Louis enjoyed lavish vacations and luxury cars for the first time in his sorry life. He was so caught up in the unexpected invitation to his mistress’s lifestyle that he forgot all about the vows he’d taken as a husband and his responsibilities as a father.
Meanwhile, Misa sank into a deep depression. She hadn’t counted on being abandoned. She had always expected her marriage to work, and when it didn’t, she fell apart. Camille had been there for her, bringing over ice cream and chick flicks and comforting her sister through the storm. And Misa appreciated and loved her sister more because of that. She had leaned on Camille, and today she was stronger than ever.
Now that Misa was over that loser, she noticed that the difference between her miserable marriage and her sister’s happy one was money. Money was what helped Camille turn the other way and pretend to be sleeping when Frankie B crept in late at night. It was what kept her wearing designer labels and pricey baubles when everyone else was complaining about their tight budgets. Misa assumed that money was what kept NBA and NFL wives happy in their marriages. Money, power, million-dollar mansions. That’s what made the difference between a nagging wife—which Misa had sadly become to Louis before they parted ways—and one who knew that her sole job was to be arm candy and to tend to the home and the children. Misa wanted that—the glitz and the glamour. And she figured she’d spend as much time chasing money-makers like Baron as she could until she landed a gold mine just like her sister had.
Misa pulled up in front of Baron’s home and parked her car. She called him on her cell phone and told him that she was outside. Then she checked her makeup in the mirror one last time. He emerged from the house and trotted down the stairs, wearing a pair of True Religion jeans, a white button up, and a dark blue blazer. She noticed the crisp white Nikes on his feet and the sparkling diamonds in his watch and smiled. He had a fresh haircut, and when he got close, she could smell his intoxicating cologne. Misa was falling hard. Baron greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and then led the way to his car. Misa locked her own car, which she would retrieve after their night on the town, and they headed for Manhattan. She was through mourning the promises that she and Louis had made to stay together till death parted them. Instead, she was making her own promises to herself. Never again would she settle for less or put her heart before her head. From now on she was going for the money. Happiness would surely follow.
Crash
Toya’s shoes clicked on the pavement as she trotted toward her brownstone with bags from Lord & Taylor in hand. She took her keys out of her pocket and unlocked her front door. Once inside, she turned to lock her screen door and saw a figure coming toward her through her yard. She quickly locked it, then reached behind the sofa cushion for the gat she kept on hand just in case of shit like this. She waited for the stranger to come closer in the dark.
Knowing her as well as he did, Nate knew what she had been scurrying for and smiled proudly. He had taught her well. “You don’t need that, Latoya,” he said, standing at a safe distance just in case she started firing.
She cocked the gun anyway. She could hear the smirk in his voice and it only infuriated her more. Her nine-millimeter gripped tightly in her hand, she was tempted to kill him and say it was an accident. Instead, she waited to see what he would say or do next. The nerve of this bastard to show up at her house! How had he found her? And did he really think she would hesitate to shoot him for all the times in the past when she hadn’t had the means to do it?
“Calm down and let me talk to you, baby. That’s the only reason I came over here. I just wanna talk to you about some things.”
“I don’t have shit to say to you. And I don’t want to hear shit you have to say. So turn around and get the fuck away from here. Don’t ever come back here again.” She shook her head in fury, fighting the tears that threatened to burst forth. “You’re dead to me, and if you ever come back here, I’ll kill you!”
Nate waited. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for. Perhaps to see if she would really do it. He didn’t even care if she did it at this point. Or maybe he was waiting to see if she’d change her mind, unlock the door, and give him a chance to speak his piece. After all, she owed him that much. Despite the fact that their relationship had always been tumultuous, he did love her. More than he had ever loved anyone else in his lifetime. Sometimes he loved her too hard, he reasoned. And if she could just get that through her head, maybe she could give him one more chance.
“Ten seconds, muthafucka, and you better be the fuck outta here!” Toya’s voice bellowed enough to convince Nate that tonight was not the night to try and persuade her. He turned and walked swiftly away, disappearing into the night just as suddenly as he’d appeared.
Toya locked her doors and sat down on the couch with her gun still in her hand. She squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out the memories of what she’d endured with him for so long. Finally, she opened her eyes and slowly looked down at the gun in her hands, wishing she had done them both a favor and killed his bitch ass.
“You having fun?” Baron asked, nudging Misa playfully.
She was. They were waiting along with about six or seven of Baron’s friends and their dates for the rapper Common to take the stage. Drinks were flowing, and they were all laughing and having a good time. Misa was enjoying being part of Baron’s inner circle and was satisfied that she looked better than all the other bitches in attendance. Baron was the center of attention, and Misa felt like the queen bee. They had arrived after everyone else, making a grand entrance just as she’d hoped. And now they were seated at a table filled with bottles and food, and the mood was festive. They were celebrating the birthday of Tremaine—a member of the Nobles crew whom Misa had seen at many of their functions. Now that she was with Baron, she felt that she had been given access to a very exclusive club, and she couldn’t imagine why Camille chose to be a homebody when she could be living like this on a regular basis.
As her mind drifted to her sister, she leaned in close to Baron so that he could hear her over the music. “Didn’t you say Frankie wa
s going to the Knicks game tonight?” she asked. “I thought he was close to Tremaine, too.”
Baron nodded toward the crowd. “Here he comes. He wouldn’t miss this.”
Misa looked up and saw Frankie coming through the crowd, and she smiled at her approaching brother-in-law. Her smile faded when she noticed that Gillian was right behind him. Everyone at their table erupted in loud greetings and handshakes as Frankie arrived. Misa smiled again, although she couldn’t help wondering if Camille knew that her husband was out with Gillian while she was at home alone again.
Frankie scanned the table and was surprised to see Misa sitting beside Baron. He smiled and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. “I thought you were working late,” he said, remembering the excuse that Camille had given him for Shane being at their house yet again.
“I thought you were at a basketball game,” she countered, looking at Gillian, who was resplendent in a black halter top, jeans, and a pair of Louboutin ankle booties. Gillian’s well-toned arms were on display as she peeled out of her beautiful white fox fur jacket, revealing iced-out diamond bangles on her wrists. Her hair was pulled up into a neat bun on top of her head, and her baby hair lined her delicate face. With Gillian’s makeup so flawless and her earlobes glistening with diamond-and-platinum hoops, Misa suddenly felt like the spotlight had shifted off of her.
“We just came from the game,” Frankie explained. “The Knicks lost. What else is new?”
Gillian glanced at Misa and smiled weakly. She had seen Camille’s sister around before, but she wondered what the hell she was doing here tonight, when Camille was nowhere in sight. Frankie cleared his throat and leaned over to whisper to Baron.
“What’s Misa doing here?”
Baron frowned slightly. “I been kicking it with shorty, that’s all. So I invited her.”
Frankie looked at Baron. “That’s wifey now?” he asked, surprised.
Baron laughed. “Nah, son. I’m just hitting that.”
Frankie laughed, too, although he was still uneasy about Misa being there. It felt strange to have his sister-in-law present, even though he really had nothing to hide. He couldn’t help wondering if Camille was using her sister to spy on him.
Common took to the stage and the crowd went crazy. As he performed one hit after another, their whole table rapped and sang along and everyone was having fun. Misa thought Common was sexy as hell, and she wasn’t the only one.
“Damn! He’s so beautiful,” Gillian said, smiling.
Misa had to laugh in agreement. “He sure is!”
Frankie, Baron, and the rest of the males at the table groaned in protest. “He ain’t all that.”
“Y’all wouldn’t even look twice at him if he wasn’t famous,” Tremaine said.
Gillian shook her head, smiling. “Don’t hate, guys. He’s handsome. End of story.”
“Exactly,” Misa agreed.
Gillian slapped Misa five and Baron looked at Misa like she was crazy.
“You think he looks better than me?” he asked, grinning.
Misa laughed. “No, baby. He definitely don’t look better than you.”
Gillian put her finger in her mouth as if she was making herself throw up. Frankie laughed and so did everybody else. Gillian looked at Baron. “Misa is only saying what you want to hear.” She looked at Misa and winked. “Smart move, girl. My brother loves to have his ego stroked.”
Baron tossed a napkin at his sister playfully and said, “I prefer having something else stroked, but my ego will do for now.”
The men laughed while Gillian, Misa, and the other young ladies at the table made disapproving faces and shook their heads. “You’re so nasty,” Gillian teased. She looked at Misa. “You’re too classy to waste your time with him.”
Misa smiled at the compliment, and shrugged. “I’m only keeping him around until I get backstage to meet Common.”
Gillian burst out laughing and Baron did, too. “Damn,” he said, shaking his head at Misa. “That’s cold.”
Misa was having a good time, and she softened a little toward Gillian. Maybe she wasn’t so bad, after all. As the show went on, she watched Frankie whisper in Gillian’s ear from time to time, and vice versa. They sat closely together and laughed at their own private jokes. If she didn’t know any better, she might have thought they were a couple. Still, she didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. The way they acted around each other tonight was no different than the way she’d seen them act on countless other occasions when Camille was present. She figured maybe she was just being territorial on behalf of Camille.
When Common was done with his performance, the crowd lingered as they danced to the music the deejay was spinning. Gillian felt like getting her two-step on, so she took Frankie by the hand and led him to the dance floor. He didn’t protest, following behind her as they made their way through the crowd.
Misa noticed, and kept an eye on them as they danced. She tried to recall the last time she’d seen Frankie dance with Camille. In fact, she wondered if her sister even knew that Frankie was here with Gillian tonight. She excused herself from the table and stepped outside. She waited until her BlackBerry got a good signal and then dialed Camille’s phone number.
“Hello?” Camille asked, sounding as if she were asleep despite the fact that it was only eleven thirty on a Thursday night.
“Camille, wake up,” Misa urged. “I’m at this party with Baron and Frankie’s here—with Gillian.”
Camille’s eyes widened, and she propped herself up on her elbow in her bed. “What party?” she asked.
“Tremaine’s birthday party,” Misa explained. “We’re at B.B. King’s in Manhattan. Frankie and Gillian came here after the game, and I just wanted to know if you knew they were here together.”
Camille tried not to sound upset that she knew nothing about Tremaine’s birthday party. “Well, he didn’t mention a party. But I don’t need to know Frankie’s every movement,” she said nonchalantly. “He probably forgot about the party until after the game and so he stopped by afterward. It’s no big deal.”
Misa felt that her sister was as blind as a bat. “So you knew he was with Gillian?” she asked, for clarification.
“Yeah,” Camille lied. “They’re just friends, Misa. Don’t start acting like Toya.”
Misa sucked her teeth. “Whatever. I’m just trying to look out for you, like any real sister would.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Camille said. “I’m going back to sleep.” She hung up the phone, leaving Misa to question why she had even bothered.
She went back inside and found Baron on the dance floor with some Latina. She strolled over boldly and interrupted, tapping the unknown woman on the shoulder. “Thanks for keeping him company,” she said. “I’ll take it from here.” Then she stood between the two of them and fell right into step.
He laughed as the Spanish woman stormed off, talking shit. “You got a lotta nerve, baby girl.”
“I sure do.” She turned and grinded her ample ass against his crotch as the music pulsated around them. She could feel him rise to attention and smiled. Spotting Frankie and Gillian across the dance floor, dancing close and smiling at each other, she shook her head. If Camille didn’t care that her husband was slipping through her fingers, neither did she.
Reasons
After her sister’s phone call Camille got out of bed. Trying to sleep was pointless. She went downstairs and poured herself a glass of Grey Goose and cranberry juice. Moonlight peeked through the bay window above her kitchen sink, and she stood there in the glow of it, a thousand thoughts swarming in her head.
Frankie was at Tremaine’s birthday party—a party he had conveniently neglected to mention to her—with Gillian. Jealousy blanketed Camille. She took a long sip of her drink and closed her eyes as she swallowed. She asked herself how the hell she’d gone from a sought-after model to a desperate housewife sitting home with nothing to keep her company but a fully stocked bar. Shaking her head, she took her drink into t
he living room and opened up a large trunk in the corner. Pulling out two leather-bound photo albums, she sat down on the sofa and opened them up. A magazine clipping fluttered to the floor and Camille picked it up. She smiled, recalling her glory days in the fashion industry. That had been the happiest time of her life.
Camille had struggled with low self-esteem early in her career as she watched thinner, lighter girls get jobs she felt that she was perfect for. Back when she was in high school, Camille had been proud of her beautiful brown skin. She and Toya were the most sought-after girls in their school, and neither of them was light. It wasn’t until she entered the fashion industry that her complexion became an issue. It gave her a bit of a complex. But when she met the man she would eventually marry, Camille’s poor self-image became a thing of the past. Frankie had wooed her with an intensity that swept her off her feet. As fine as he was, and with all the clout he had in the streets, it seemed that he only had eyes for Camille.
Looking down at the photo in her hand, she smiled again. It was part of an ad campaign she’d done for Gap back in the nineties. Camille sat back, sipping her cocktail as she flipped through the album and remembered the love she shared with Frankie in those days. He would accompany her to photo shoots and watch from the wings as she pivoted and posed. He seemed almost in awe of her, admiring her every move. From time to time, he would buy the clothes she modeled. He knew her size in everything from apparel to shoes in those days and would surprise her with beautiful things all the time. Camille had been told that she was pretty. But Frankie made her feel sexier, more beautiful, and more interesting to him than any of the other women he knew.
Camille had lost herself in him. She realized that now. As she turned the pages of the photo album, she felt as though she were leafing through the archives of her life, catching glimpses of her former self. There she was, smiling, long-legged, radiant, posing in one amazing picture after another. It occurred to her that she hadn’t smiled that hard in a long time.