Also by Sasha Campbell
Confessions
Suspicions
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
Scandals
Sasha Campbell
Kensington Books
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Also by Sasha Campbell
Title Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Prologue
1 - Monica
2 - Robin
3 - Monica
4 - Robin
5 - Monica
6 - Robin
7 - Monica
8 - Robin
9 - Monica
10 - Robin
11 - Monica
12 - Robin
13 - Monica
14 - Robin
15 - Monica
16 - Robin
17 - Monica
18 - Robin
19 - Monica
20 - Robin
21 - Monica
22 - Robin
23 - Monica
24 - Robin
25 - Monica
26 - Robin
27 - Monica
28 - Robin
29 - Monica
30 - Robin
31 - Monica
32 - Robin
33 - Robin
34 - Monica
35 - Robin
36 - Monica
37 - Robin
38 - Monica
39 - Robin
40 - Monica
41 - Robin
42 - Monica
43 - Robin
44 - Monica
45 - Robin
46 - Monica
47 - Robin
48 - Monica
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
Teaser chapter
Copyright Page
This book is dedicated to G.E.B.
Yeah, boy! That trip is right around the corner. Fo sho.
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank all the book clubs for the love I received for my sophomore book Suspicions. Your comments and e-mails made it possible for me to finish this story even when I wasn’t feeling creative. Y’all definitely kept it together for me. Now fasten your seat belt and enjoy the ride!
Prologue
Ashes to ashes ...
I stood off to the far right under a large oak tree, watching from a distance in disbelief. I still couldn’t believe she was dead.
Just a week ago we were sitting at a restaurant, talking, laughing, and realizing we had more in common than either of us had ever imagined. That chick had been there for me when I needed help. She had been my friend. Now she was gone. Neck slit. Brutally beaten. Even thinking about it made me sick to my stomach because that could easily have been me lying in that wooden box.
Behind Versace designer sunglasses, I glanced around at the folks who had come to pay their respects and noticed a woman standing in front, hugging a little girl. Both were crying their eyes out. Few were family, but the majority I knew personally. We all danced at Scandalous Gentlemen’s Club. And her brutal death could have happened to any one of us.
As I watched them lower her body into the ground, I forced myself to take a deep breath. For the umpteenth time I wondered, was it really worth it?
None of us set out to be a stripper. Hell no. I still don’t know how I even allowed anyone to convince me to start dancing in the first place, yet back then I was convinced it was my only option. What was supposed to be a temporary solution had become a way of life ... a lifestyle. But the money was easy and too damn good to simply walk away from. However, as I watched her body being lowered into the ground, I couldn’t help but reevaluate my life. Maybe it was time for me to do something different, because it wasn’t just me who mattered. I had a family to consider. I was needed in this world. I was depended on and I couldn’t just make decisions without thinking about the consequences ... not anymore.
While the others stood around talking long after the service had ended, I returned to my car and headed home, still wondering how I allowed myself to get caught up in the craziness of it all. As I looked back over the last few months, once again I asked myself, all that drama, had it really been worth risking my life? And if I had a chance to do it all over again, would I?
1
Monica
Six months earlier
“You want me to do what!”
I was practically shouting and had every reason. I was even seriously considering popping somebody upside their head. The only thing stopping me was I suddenly remembered where the hell we were.
I glanced around CJ’s Café just to make sure no one was eavesdropping on our conversation, and to my relief, the only people looking at me all cockeyed was the couple at the next table. Hell, I didn’t mean to be loud and even tossed an apology in their direction before I focused my rage on the chunky chick sitting across the table from me. There’s no way in hell Reyna had just said what I thought she said.
“I’m serious, Monica. Look at this,” she insisted and had the nerve to stab the newspaper with her index finger.
I shifted my eyes. “Reyna, I’m not looking at that! I can’t believe you set your lips to suggest something like that to me.” My best friend had lost her mind. “Are you fucking crazy?”
Reyna blinked and then had the audacity to act like it was no big deal. “It’s not that bad. I even considered it once in college. I know you could do it.”
I sighed silently to myself. “I’m not even about to have this conversation with you.”
She blew out a heavy breath, then rolled her eyes at me. “Damn, Monica, you act like I asked you to rob a bank ... like we about to set it off up in here.”
“Shiiiit, what’s the difference?” I hissed and leaned back against the seat. I should have known when Reyna asked me to meet her for lunch, she had something up her sleeve. And to think I’d been having one hell of a day.
Fridays were the only mornings I didn’t have class, and with the girls in school, I decided to finally do something I’d been considering for months—I got a haircut. I let Sonya, a stylist at Forever You, chop off the hair that once hung to the center of my back. For two hours I was practically in tears, certain I had made a big mistake until she swung my chair around so I faced the mirror. Sonya was heaven sent. She had given me a short layered style that took off almost ten years from my face. You’re probably thinking, what’s the big deal? Well, listen when I tell you, cutting my hair was a hard decision for me. For years my hair was my strength. I was like Samson. I thought I was weak without it. But I realized the only thing that made me weak was my ex-husband Anthony. Too bad it took his sorry ass leaving for me to finally figure it out.
As soon as I left the salon, I went to meet Reyna for lunch and strolled into CJ’s Café with my hips swaying. I couldn’t help but notice several men checking me out. I guess the black wraparound dress I was rocking looked good hugging every curve on my body just as I had hoped it would. The attention definitely made it worth the money I spent on the outfit. Some dude even had the nerve to try to get my attention, but I blew him off. Not that he was ugly or anything. It’s just that the last thing in the world I needed was a man. All I wanted was to know that even though I was a thirty-year-old mother of two, I still looked damn good. The attention was definitely my stamp of approval. When I finally reached the booth at the far back corner, I was feeling sexy, then Reyna had the nerve to fuck everything up for me.
Our waiter returned with our salads and iced teas. Reyna waited until he had moved on to the next table before she tried to rationalize. “Listen, Monica, all I’m tryna do is help you find a job. You’re the one who said
you weren’t asking Anthony for shit else.”
Damn right I wasn’t. I’d rather clean the floor of the café with a toothbrush than ask that bastard for a dime. I was willing to even get a job standing on the corner holding up one of those stupid Everything Must Go signs. I would do just about anything except beg my ex-husband for money ... and the shit Reyna was suggesting. “You’re right. I meant it when I said I’m not asking him for shit, but just ’cause I said that doesn’t mean I’m ready to sell my body just to earn a dollar.”
Reyna laughed like what I said was funny when in actuality I was dead serious. “Monica, it’s stripping, not prostituting,” she said a little too gleefully.
“Hell, they’re the same damn thing,” I snarled at my friend, then stabbed my garden salad with a fork.
“No, they are not,” she said nonchalantly, then shrugged. “In fact, Scandalous is a pretty nice club. I’ve been there a few times.”
“A few times?” Lord have mercy. That girl never ceases to amaze me. I shook my head and gave her a pitiful look. “What were you doing ... auditioning?”
“Noooo,” she said like something was wrong with the idea. What’s up with that? Apparently it was okay for me to strip, but heaven forbid I assume she had. “It’s nothing like that.” Reyna gave me a wicked grin and took a bite of her salad before she continued, “This dude I used to mess with had this thing about taking his date to a strip club. Something about it turned him on to have his woman watching the dancers along with him.” Reyna had this faraway look in her eyes. Damn! I couldn’t believe she was taking me with her ass on a ride down memory lane.
Reyna then leaned in close. I guess she didn’t want anyone else to hear what she was about to say. Hell, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear it either. “They even have a swingers section upstairs, and we went up there and got our groove on. Monica, girrrrl, having sex in the balcony while staring down at the strippers on the stage ... oh my goodness ... it was better than a porno tape. I don’t think I ever came that hard in my life.”
I leaned back in the seat, trying to put as much distance between the two of us as I could manage. “Nasty ass.” I shook my head because I should have known better. My girl gets off on all that crazy shit.
“Monica, you act like you’ve never done anything freaky in your life,” she said with a disapproving look on her face.
“I have ... at home ... with my husband.” Reyna would never believe the things my husband used to make me do. Hell, I still had a hard time believing it myself.
“Seriously ... I wasn’t trying to piss you off. It was just a suggestion ... a quick way to make some money ... that’s all.” Reyna tried to act like her feelings were hurt, but I wasn’t buying it.
I reached for my iced tea and stared at her cocoa-brown face over the rim of the glass as I spoke. “Well I’m not interested in auditioning at Scandalous. I’ve got two little girls. What would they think if they knew their mother was taking her clothes off in front of a room full of horny men?”
“They won’t know. The only two people who’d know are you and me.” She shook her head like I was being ridiculous when it was Reyna who had lost her damn mind. “Some weave, false eyelashes, and colored contacts ... nobody would know it was you.”
“Absolutely not.” I scowled. She tried to reason with me, but I stood my ground. “Dammit, I said no!”
“Okay ... fine.” Reyna threw her hands in the air in defeat. “Then what are you gonna do about money?”
If anyone had told me a year ago I would be sitting in a café with my best friend trying to figure out how I was going to keep a roof over my head, I would have laughed at them. Back then I was Mrs. Monica Houston, the wife of Anthony Houston, the hedge fund king and one of Richmond’s wealthiest black men. I’d been living in a big-ass house in Chesterfield with a maid and a gardener. Back then couldn’t nobody tell me my husband was messing around on me. I loved that man with everything I had and was confident he felt the same. So when he announced he wanted a divorce, I swear to you, I didn’t see that shit coming, especially since we had just spent a week in Jamaica, screwing like two teenagers on spring break. That bastard waited until our plane landed in Richmond before he broke the news.
After that my life spiraled out of control, and here I was a year later, a black woman with a limited education and almost no work experience trying to figure out how to make everything right in my life for the sake of my two beautiful little girls, Liese and Arissa. The money the courts awarded me was barely enough to maintain the lifestyle we were accustomed to. In fact, if I didn’t figure out a plan soon, I was going to find my ass on the street.
“There has to be another way.”
Reaching across the table, Reyna touched my arm. “There is. We just have to figure out what it is.” I looked at her and nodded even though I was starting to lose faith. “What I don’t understand is how Anthony can be so damn stingy. Those are his daughters. As much money as that bastard makes, he should be glad to help you out at least until you finish nursing school.”
I love Reyna for always having my back, but she should know it was always his way or no way, and now that we were divorced nothing had changed. I couldn’t blame anyone but myself, because I had allowed him to control me all those years.
I remember when Anthony and I first met. I was a freshman and he was a junior at the University of Michigan. We fell in love overnight, and when he graduated and asked me to return with him to Virginia, I gladly dropped out of school. I had every intention of continuing my education, but Anthony proposed and promised to take care of me forever. Shortly after we arrived in Richmond, Anthony landed a position with a large hedge fund corporation, then Arissa was born and Liese a year later. I was happy just raising the girls and taking care of my husband. For eight years that was all I knew. Like I said, I never saw it coming.
I snatched the Richmond Post Dispatch up from the table and stared down at the help wanted ad. Exotic dancing? Hell no. I cut my eyes at Reyna, then focused on the ad below it. “Look! Mason’s needs a waitress to work the evening shift.”
“On Crater Road?” Reyna gave a rude bark of laughter. “I guess so. Some dude was shot and killed in their parking lot last week.”
Ms. Know-It-All. “Okay, what about cashiering?”
“Puh-leeze, you can’t live off minimum wage.”
Whatever. “Ooh! JCPenney’s is hiring sales associates.” My head popped up and I stared across the table and grinned. Reyna knew I loved shopping at that store.
She frowned. “They’re hiring for the morning shift, and last I checked, you were in school. That is ... unless you’re planning on dropping out.”
Reyna knew better than that. Just like the new haircut, enrolling in school was my way of proclaiming my independence. Nursing had always been a dream of mine. After the divorce was final, I enrolled in a twelve-month accelerated LPN program. It was intense and hard work. I had classes in the morning and barely had enough time to study before picking up the girls from their after-school program. But in less than seven months it would all be over.
While I finished my salad, I scanned the ads and saw a few possibilities but ended up feeling increasingly frustrated. “To be honest, Reyna ... I really don’t know how I’m going to juggle school, the girls, and a job.”
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” Reyna said, trying to reassure me. “How about working twelve-hour shifts on the weekends at the hospital?”
I shook my head at the idea. “No. That’s the only time the girls and I have to really spend any time together.”
“There is always the evenings after they go to bed,” she suggested.
I took a moment to think about it. “I would be too tired for class in the morning.”
Reyna leaned back on the seat with a sigh. “Okay, then what about Friday, Saturday, and Sunday? You don’t have classes on Fridays.” She must have seen my frown because she added, “Seriously, Monica, the only option you have is to find some
thing you can do in the evenings or weekends. You know I have no problem watching the girls.”
“Mmm-hmm, but how many jobs are out there like that?”
“I already suggested one and you weren’t interested,” she mumbled under her breath, then had the nerve to stare at her hands like she was looking for chipped nail polish.
That chick better be glad I loved her, which was the only reason why I hadn’t reached across the table and snatched those kinky twists outta her head. She was, after all, my best friend.
We met at First Baptist Church of Virginia on Decatur Street my first year in Richmond, and had been tight ever since. She had gotten a degree in business at Virginia Commonwealth University and three years ago opened her own boutique. Reyna was doing everything she had set her mind to, and unlike me, she hadn’t let a man stand in her way.
“How about working at UPS tossing packages late in the evening or the early morning assembly line at Kraft?” she suggested.
“Maybe.” Neither sounded like something I really wanted to do, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers, and with limited skills I definitely didn’t have many options. The only job I ever had in high school was McDonald’s. Trust me ... flipping burgers was not even an option. My eyes traveled over to the ad again. Exotic Dancers needed. Goodness, was that what my life had come to?
“If I was your size, I would do it in a heartbeat.”
As freaky as Reyna was, she was probably right. See, the problem is Reyna’s a big girl. When we first met she was probably wearing a sixteen, but over the years, especially during the stress of opening her own boutique, she started packing on the pounds and was wearing at least a twenty-two. Not that it stopped Reyna. She was a strong believer of you’re as beautiful as you feel. Well, as far as Reyna was concerned, she was the hottest chick within a hundred-mile radius. Even now she was sitting with her legs crossed, swinging her foot in the aisle. As usual she was dressing her ass off, wearing a blue jean miniskirt complemented by a fire engine red corset, a jean bolero jacket, and matching five-inch pumps. She didn’t let her weight stand in the way of looking good. I’ll give it to her, style was one thing she knew a lot about, and she wore it well. I guess that’s why she owned Reyna’s Couture, the hottest boutique in all of Petersburg.
Scandals Page 1