Between the Sheets (9781476775807)

by Cairo

  “What eleven o’clock?” I ask, puzzled. “I don’t believe I have anything scheduled for today.”

  I reach for the portable mouse on my desk and wait for my PC to power up. I click into my calendar on my desktop, as well as check the calendar on my iPad. “Are you sure? I don’t see any appointments scheduled for today. There must be some mistake.”

  “I thought so,” she says. “I checked my calendar as well and didn’t see anything scheduled. She wouldn’t speak with me on the phone so I went downstairs and told her that I’d be more than happy to take her name and number and have you call her back. Needless to say, she did not seem happy to see me and wasn’t trying to hear anything I had to say. She insisted on seeing you, today.”

  I sigh, glancing at the time. It’s a quarter to eleven. “Did she give you her name?”

  “Yeah. Alexandria Maples.”

  I purse my lips. “Alexandria Maples? Hmm. Name doesn’t ring a bell. Did she say where she’s from?”

  “No. She didn’t. Hold on.” A few seconds later, Shayla returns and says, “Ronald says she says it’s a personal matter and she will only speak with you.”

  I ask Shayla what she looks like. The second she describes her as a J.Lo lookalike, my heart drops.

  Oh no! Now this bitch has gone too far! Coming here to my place of business!

  I reach for my cell and immediately call Marcel, but the call rolls over to his voicemail. I end the call, and send him a text. CALL ME. ASAP.

  “Did she look armed and dangerous?”

  She chuckles. “Uh, armed? No. Dangerous? No. Hella crazy? Maybe. When I went downstairs to talk with her, she was pacing back and forth in the lobby like some caged animal and talking to herself.” She lowers her voice. “Is everything okay? Do you know this woman?”

  “No, no,” I say quickly. “Not really. Can you call and let the desk know I’ll be down in five minutes.”

  “I think you better make it in three,” Shayla quickly says. “Um, I have Roman on the other end. He says she’s down there talking reckless. She just told him that she’s with The I’ma Turn This Bitch Upside Down Society if you don’t hurry up and get downstairs. He’s ready to call it in.”

  “No, no. Tell him I’m coming right down.”

  I quickly hang up and send Marcel another text: SHE’S HERE!!!! IM GOING DWNSTAIRS NOW

  When he still doesn’t respond back, I pick up the phone and call up to his floor.

  “MK Records…this is Alise. How may I direct your call?”

  “Hello Alise. Is MarSell around?”

  “Oh, hi, Missus Kennedy,” she says instantly, recognizing my voice. “Let me see.” She puts me on hold. A second or so later, she returns to the line. “Um, he’s actually in a meeting until about one. Would you like me to get a message to him?”

  “No. That won’t be necessary. I sent him a text. Thanks.”

  I hang up, and put my head in my hands and sigh, trying to gather my thoughts for a second before I collect my badge. Shut my office door and practically sprint in my six-inch heels through the building, heading for the elevators.

  • • •

  “Ramona,” I say frantically, walking over to her. “What are you doing here?”

  “It’s Alexandria,” she says tersely. “And I’m here because we have some unfinished business.”

  I bristle. “Umm, okay, Alexandria. Or whoever the hell you are. No. We don’t. So I’m going to ask you nicely to leave now before I have you escorted out of the building. And don’t ever show your face here again. Or the next time I will have you arrested.”

  She scowls, snapping a hand up on her hip. “Vete a la mierda, puta…!”

  I blink.

  Then my worst nightmare suddenly starts to unfold before my eyes when she hisses, “You do that. And I’ll tell the world all about our lil’ lesbian love affair. You pussy eater.”

  I cringe.

  Oh, dear God, no! My eyes widen in shock. I can feel the blood draining from my face. I glance over at the security desk, hoping the two guards haven’t heard her. The last thing I need to become is the spectacle. The sideshow.

  They don’t seem to be listening. Still, I’ve never felt more humiliated than I am at this very moment.

  I clench my teeth. “There was no love affair.” I take a deep breath, trying to conceal my real emotions. On the inside, I’m screaming, “You stupid bitch! Get a life! And leave mine the fuck alone!”

  “Bitch, you eat my pussy and fuck me in my ass, then think you can dismiss me like I’m some whore-ass trick. I don’t think so. Just like the night up in your hotel room, I thought we could be women about this, but I see you prefer it messy.”

  I need to get this ho somewhere private and out of everyone’s earshot.

  “Please, let’s not do this here,” I say with pleading eyes.

  She narrows her gaze at me, placing a hand up on her curvaceous hips. Hesitantly, she agrees to talk privately. And I quickly usher her into one of the empty conference rooms, then shut the door.

  I whirl around to face her. I’m livid. “Look, what is it you want from me, huh? Money?”

  She laughs. “Puta, don’t insult me. Do I look like I need money? No. I don’t want your fucking money, bitch. I told you what I want. I want you to leave MarSell.”

  I scoff. “What? I don’t know how many times I have to keep telling you to stay the fuck away from my husband and me. He and his dick are not available to you. So you need to go find you some other woman’s husband to stalk, because mine—and his dick—are off limits.”

  She sneers. “Oh, you think you’re real slick, don’t you, bitch? But newsflash, sweetie: Your happy home isn’t so happy. And that man you’re so desperate to hold onto isn’t happy with you. He doesn’t love you. He loves me. I’m who he wants to be with.”

  “Bitch,” I snarl, slamming a hand up on my hip. “You’re fucking delusional. MarSell doesn’t love you. And he damn sure doesn’t want some crazy bitch like you.”

  She laughs again. “Then you’re the dumb one, hon. How many late nights do you think we’ve spent on the phone talking, sexting, FaceTiming, while you’re asleep, right after he’s fucked you to sleep, huh? How many early morning email exchanges do you think we’ve shared behind your pathetic back?”

  I blink.

  She covers her mouth. “Oops. I guess he didn’t mention that, huh? I guess he’s keeping secrets from you, after all. Just like I bet he didn’t reveal being with me last week.”

  I frown. “You’re fucking lying.”

  “Oh really? Am I? Ask him where he was last Friday at two o’clock.”

  My mind quickly searches through my mental Rolodex.

  “I have a two o’clock meeting.”

  My stomach lurches. My heart pounds in my ears.

  “Oh, don’t bother asking him. You know how men are. They have selective memory and they leave out all the important details. So I’ll tell you. He was having a late lunch.” She lewdly pats her crotch. “Between my thighs.” She smirks, then licks her lips. “Ooh, his tongue is sooo addictive. I can see why you don’t want to let him go.”

  This bitch is trying to bait me. But I’m not falling for it.

  Yeah, right. Meeting my ass! What if he was with her ass Friday?

  “I know you saw it in his eyes that night I was riding his big, long dick. It killed you, didn’t it, puta? Seeing me give it to him so good. It tore you up watching the man you love fall for another woman, didn’t it? Él está enamorado de este coño.” He’s in love with this pussy.

  Flashes of that night shoot through my head. Yes, Marcel was more passionate with her than he’s been with other women we’ve brought into our beds, then again…those other women were women we’d met in different countries, or private parties. None of them were some obsessed woman who’d sent him nude selfies, or constantly called into his radio show.

  She finally pushes me over the edge when she rubs her belly and says, “I’m pregnant with his bab
y.”

  “Bitch, you’re delusional.”

  “Oh really? You think? Then riddle me this: Why did he give me”—she digs in her purse, yanking out a folded piece of paper—“this, huh?” She slings the paper at me.

  I kneel and pick it up, opening it. My insides drop. It’s a personal check for fifty thousand dollars written out to her from Marcel.

  What the hell is going on here?

  “It’s hush money. He wants me to have an abortion, then disappear. But I don’t want his money. I want him. And I’m keeping his baby.”

  “You lying, conniving bitch!” I lunge for her, slapping her face. My nails graze her face.

  She touches the side of her face, then looks at the blood on her fingertips. Her eyes darken, making her look possessed. She clenches her teeth. “Oh, you just fucked up, bitch. You are going to regret ever putting your motherfucking hands on me. I’m going to turn your whole. Fucking. World. Upside down.”

  I lunge for her again, but she slips from my grasp, swings open the conference door and makes an erratic dash out of the conference room. I give chase after her not caring who’s around, but she surges past the security desk.

  “Bitch, I’m going to start letting everyone know que me cogió en el culo!”

  My stomach lurches. She’s going to let everyone know that I fucked her in her ass. I only know this because she’s nice enough to translate it back to me as she yells out, “Marika Kennedy is a lesbian bitch!”

  I stop in my tracks, mortified, feeling my gut clench as she shoulders her way out the glass door. My whole body shakes. I attempt to grab ahold of the wall to keep from falling, but one of the security guards catches me before I hit the floor.

  “Missus Kennedy, is everything okay?” he asks, eyeing me cautiously. “Should we call the police?”

  I shake my head. “No, no. No police,” I say, the tremble still evident in my voice. “I don’t want them getting involved. We’ll deal with this in-house for now.” I take a deep breath. Try desperately to steady my nerves.

  “Marika Kennedy is a lesbian bitch!”

  It’s hush money!

  He wants me to have an abortion…

  I swallow back a scream. I fight to keep my composure as I calmly say, “And I’d like to know I can count on the two of you to keep what you witnessed and heard today quiet. I don’t want this mess getting out.”

  “We have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says, sounding genuine. Still…I know how everyone loves spreading rumors and juicy gossip. Although all of our employees sign non-disclosure agreements, you can never be certain. They both lock their gazes on me and assure me that nothing will ever be repeated.

  I want, need, to believe them. Desperately. But I can see it in their eyes. Judgment.

  “But if she ever shows her face here again, I want the police called, immediately. No questions asked.”

  “Say no more,” Roman, the younger of the two, says. I make a mental note to write them both a hefty check for their loyalty and to ensure their silence as I walk off, feeling their eyes on me as my heels click against the polished marble.

  I don’t fucking believe this shit! Crazy bitch!

  As I’m making my way down the hall, one of the elevator doors slide open, and Marcel is stepping off.

  The last person I wish to fucking see right now!

  My nostrils flare and my eyes blaze.

  “Marika,” he says rushing to me. He glances around the lobby. “What happened? I got your texts.” His Bvlgari cologne sweeps around me as he steps up to me. I try not to take a deep whiff of him, but he smells delicious. Any other time the smell of his cologne would be an aromatic aphrodisiac that makes my pussy pucker with lust. But the fact that some dick-hungry bitch is after him has me coming unhinged all over again, quelling any possible desires for him.

  I turn away from him, and stalk off toward the bank of elevators, unwilling to have this discussion with him. I am still beside myself with rage. I’ve never been more humiliated in my entire life. That dirty bitch!

  “Marika.” Dead silence. I’m too drunk with anger to speak. “Marika, tell me what’s going on. What happened?”

  I whirl around to face him. “That bitch,” I hiss, “is what happened. Now leave me alone so I can think.”

  His face tightens. “Yo, really, Marika?” He glances over at the security desk. Once again, we have a small audience. Marcel lowers his voice. “You see around you? Are you sure you wanna do this right here?”

  Before I can catch myself I blurt out, “I’m sick of this shit. I didn’t sign up for some whore-ass, nutty bitch disrespecting me. I told you she was a fucking problem. But, nooo. You thought I was being paranoid.” I turn on my heels.

  With a firm grasp on my arm, Marcel turns me back around. He takes a breath. “Now I’m askin’ you nicely, aiight? You need to calm the fuck down and talk to me.”

  I yank my arm away. “Get your hands off of me. Don’t tell me to calm down! Where the hell were you when that bitch was insulting me, huh? Probably somewhere stuffed in some coat closet with your goddamn dick shoved down in some trick’s greedy throat.”

  Oh God!

  Marika, girl, pull it together! What the hell is the matter with you?

  I know I am making a scene but I am too goddamn pissed to care.

  Marcel’s nose flares. “Yo, I’ma act like I didn’t hear that shit.” He grabs my arm firmly and pulls me into a small conference room, then lets me go once the door is closed. He locks the door behind him.

  “I know you’re upset right now. But do you mind telling me what the fuck is going on? Since when you start showin ya muhfuckin’ ass in public, huh?”

  Before I can reign in my temper, I go off, cursing and screaming. Accusing him of wanting to be with that bitch. Calling him all kinds of son-of-a-bitches. I am wild with anger. “And now that crazy bitch is saying she’s goddamn pregnant…by you!”

  He scowls. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? And you believe that dumb shit?”

  “You want that bitch, you can have her. I’m not tolerating this shit from her or any other bitch. And I’m not tolerating you fucking bitches behind my back!”

  “Whoa, whoa. Hold up. Wait? You think I’m fucking her?”

  I huff, folding my arms tightly over my chest. “Aren’t you?”

  His gaze narrows. “Hell no. I don’t want her ass. I can’t believe you’d ask me some shit like that. And I can’t fuckin’ believe you’d accuse me of creepin’ on you. What the fuck, yo.” He shakes his head in disbelief.

  “Then why is that bitch telling me otherwise, huh?”

  “Because she’s fuckin’ crazy! You said it yourself. And now she has you effen buggin.” He shakes his head again, frustration etched over his handsome face. “And now you’re acting just as fuckin’ crazy as she is.”

  I snarl. “Oh, so now I’m the crazy one here? Well, mighty funny she seems to be making a whole lot of sense to me.”

  “Will you listen to yourself, yo. I mean really? Are you hearing yourself right now?”

  Several tense seconds tick by as we eye each other before Marcel says, “I need you to hold it together. Why are you letting this chick get up in your head, blacking out, acting like some jealous lover?”

  “Do I need to be jealous?”

  “Are you effen kidding me right now?”

  “Has she still been calling you?”

  He blinks. “Excuse me?”

  I tilt my head. “I asked has…that…bitch…called you?”

  He takes a deep breath. “Yeah. A few times.”

  “And did you go see her behind my back?”

  A look of surprise registers on his face. “Yeah. To get her to fall the fuck back; that’s it.”

  “And you gave that bitch a check!” I crumble it in my hand, then throw it in his face.

  He frowns. “I gave her that check to bounce, period.”

  I tsk. “Well, we see how well that worked out. Don’t we?”


  “I just wanted her gone. She told me if I came to see her and brought her a check, she’d fall back.”

  I give him a yeah-right-tell-me-anything look. Right now I am so drunk with disgust that all I am hearing in my ear is, “I fucked him. I fucked him. He fucked me. He fucked me. We fucked. We fucked…I’m pregnant…I’m pregnant…”

  I give him an incredulous look. “And you believed her?”

  He shrugs. “I didn’t know what else to do, aiight. I wanted to.”

  “So you sneak off to see that bitch for some clandestine meeting, then expect me to believe you didn’t run off to fuck her!”

  He gives me a frustrated look. “Marika, c’mon now. What the fuck, man? No. I didn’t fuck her. Don’t turn this shit into more than it is.”

  I scoff. “ ‘Don’t turn this shit into more than what it is’? Oh, give me a damn break, MarSell. You’ve done a fine job of doing that on your own.

  He scowls. “Yo, listen. That broad coming here was outta pocket, but you’re fuckin’ buggin’ now. I—”

  Before he can get the rest of his words out, I am up on him.

  Slap!

  I reach up and smack his face. It happens so quick that I catch him off guard.

  His jaw tightens as his hand goes up to his cheek. “For real, though? We slapping now?”

  “Oh God, Marcel.….…. I’m so sorry,” I stammer. I go to reach for him, but he brushes past me and opens the conference room door. The door slaps into the wall as he heads toward the bank of elevators.

  Oh God! This is not good.

  I follow behind him, hot on his trail.

  Marcel steps onto the elevator. Eyes blazing fire, he puts his arm out to block me from entering. He uses his other hand to push the button for his floor.

  “My advice, take the stairs,” he warns, glancing up at the elevator’s security camera. His jaw tightens.

  “MarSell, please. I’m sorry. Let’s talk about this.”

  He nudges me back. “Yo, I’m not tryna hear that right now. You should have thought about talking before you put your muthafuckin’ hands on me. Right now, I’m not tryna be responsible for what I might do. So step the fuck back.”