“I’ve been giving your girl the side-eye ever since. I don’t get involved in lengthy conversations with Jayla. I’m courteous, but all I say is ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’—that’s it.”
“It’s clear that you keep her at arm’s length, but I figured you were envious of our friendship.”
He laughed derisively. “I’ve never been envious of that trashy ho.”
“She’s still my friend, so please don’t call her that. I’m curious about why you kept this information to yourself for so many years. Didn’t you think it was important enough to share?”
“You and Jayla are tight and I didn’t want to be the cause of any bad blood between you. I hoped the bathroom stunt was a one-time thing; the result of too much alcohol at the reception. But after her performance at your birthday party, I realized—”
Bailee held up a hand. “Wait, what? What exactly happened at my party?” she asked, dreading the answer.
“I hate being the bearer of more bad news, but you asked,” he said with a placating smile. “Jayla was behind the bar serving up brains while the mixologist served drinks. You remember the bartender—the dude with the blond dreads piled on his head in a man bun?”
“No, I don’t remember the bartender,” she said sharply.
Trent shrugged. “Anyway…the bartender mentioned it to a few of my friends and it got back to me.”
“I don’t believe it.” Bailee folded her arms across her chest.
“Babe, open your eyes. Everybody can’t be lying on your girl.”
“But I know Jayla. Sure, she can get a little loose at times, but she would never stoop that low.” Bailee’s voice trembled at the thought of her friend down on her knees, providing oral sex to a perfect stranger in a public venue.
“Face it, Bailee. Jayla’s a dusty ’hood chick, and she fronts like she’s high-class.”
“Trent, please. I can’t deal with the way you keep calling her out of her name.”
Trent lifted a shoulder indifferently. “It’s the truth. She’s a cum-bucket, and it’s time for you to acknowledge that fact and make the appropriate adjustments in your relationship with her.”
“Are you suggesting that I abandon my friend?” Bailee’s voice was shrill.
“I’m suggesting that you reassess your relationship with her and determine whether it’s prudent to associate with a thot who’s fucking out of both sides of her drawers,” Trent said in a delivery that was a low and measured mixture of professional attorney and former resident of the ’hood.
“I’m aware that Jayla has body image issues. It’s clear that she tries to disguise her insecurities with provocative behavior and inappropriate clothing, but for her to denigrate herself in such a manner…” She paused, searching for the right words. “I didn’t realize she was that damaged.”
“Now you know,” Trent said. “I’m trying to get ahead at my law firm. I’m in the running to get the Craver account, which could do wonders for my career, and the last thing I need is for there to be rumors around the office that my wife’s best friend was tricking in the bathroom at our anniversary party. You know what they say, ‘birds of a feather…’ ” His voice trailed off and he made his way to the recliner, carrying a chilled bottle of beer.
He flopped into the chair, turned the bottle to his lips and focused intently on the game.
Unable to focus on the dessert samples on the computer screen, Bailee gazed into space. Trent had given her a lot to contemplate. Should she speak to Jayla about her conduct or pretend she didn’t know? She decided she couldn’t ignore it. Jayla’s slutty behavior was obviously a cry for help. She grimaced as she imagined Jayla behind the bar, giving head in the midst of a crowded ballroom. Who does that?
Maybe Jayla was a sex addict. Her inexcusable behavior couldn’t be chalked up to merely indulging sexual fantasies. There had to be some underlying, deep-seated emotional problem. Bailee would be less than a friend if she didn’t suggest that Jayla get therapy or join a support group, at the least.
Another commercial interrupted the football game and Trent reached for his phone. Usually, Bailee looked forward to the breaks in the game, but she found herself feeling relieved that Trent was using the downtime to tweet about his team instead. She couldn’t deal with the way he was berating Jayla and she didn’t know how to defend her friend.
At one-hundred-and-eighty pounds of solid muscle, Trent weighed sixty pounds less than Bailee. Their weight was approximately the same when they’d gotten married, but Bailee kept gaining. For the most part, she was comfortable with her body, but she wanted to drop at least thirty pounds before the night of the party.
She cut an eye at her husband, taking in his exquisite bone structure and facial features. Admiringly, her eyes skimmed to his low fade haircut and the spinning waves he was obsessive about. High school friends and college sweethearts, he was the only man she’d ever loved.
Big-boned with skin the color of dark honey, Bailee had inherited her late father’s physical characteristics. Unlike her thin and dainty mother, who would never be caught out in public without coiffed hair, a full face of makeup, and clothing that was the height of fashion, Bailee was much more down-to-earth. She dressed conservatively, wore very little makeup and her natural hair was styled in medium-length locs. The most time and effort she put into her appearance were biweekly trips to the salon to get her locs maintained.
The average woman would kill for what Bailee had: a handsome, smart, successful husband. But Bailee also had a successful career. Being the only African American managing director at the bank where she worked, she believed that she and Trent were equally lucky to have each other.
As a couple, Bailee and Trent were practically joined at the hip, except on Tuesdays when he had to entertain clients until late in the night and also when he traveled for weekly, overnight business trips.
Bailee was a lucky woman to have such a devoted husband. Bearing that in mind, she decided that tonight she’d show her appreciation in bed. Pull out the blindfold, a couple of toys, and do some extra special tricks to prove how much she cared.
Headed for the fridge during another commercial break, Trent walked past Bailee, brushing her neck tenderly as he ambled past her. “I’m getting some ice cream. Do you want some?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.
“No, I’m good,” she replied as she inwardly drooled over the goodies that were displayed on her computer screen. More than anything, she would have loved to open a bag of potato chips and dig into a bowl of cherry vanilla ice cream, but she resisted the urge.
You’re not hungry. No emotional eating until after the party.
Trent strolled up to her and offered her a spoonful of ice cream from his bowl.
“You’re mean,” she said, laughing as she leaned away from the spoon. “Why’re you trying to tempt me when you know I have to get rid of some of these pounds before the party?”
“You’re sexy no matter how much you weigh.” Trent punctuated the statement by leaning in and giving her a kiss.
She gazed at him adoringly. “That’s why I love you, babe. You overlook my flaws and only see the best in me.”
“What flaws? All I see is beauty.” He took a few steps toward the recliner and then stopped abruptly. “But, speaking of flaws…”
“Oh, God. What now?” Bailee could tell by the determined set of Trent’s jawline that he was going to say something disparaging about Jayla.
He walked slowly toward her, his expression grave. “There’s something else I’ve been meaning to tell you.” He expelled a huff of air. “That dude that Jayla’s been seeing is married.”
“Sadeeq?” Bailee shook her head. “No, you’re mistaken. He’s single.”
“He’s married, babe.”
“How do you know?”
“My cousin, Javari’s baby mom is tight with Sadeeq’s wife.”
“Your con-artist cousin Javari? How can you believe anything that comes out of the mouth of a man who has thre
e different baby moms and who defrauded us out of fifteen-hundred dollars?”
“He didn’t defraud us. It was a loan that he’s going to pay back as soon as he gets on his feet,” Trent asserted.
“I’m not holding my breath.”
“Javari had a rough childhood and a lot of bad breaks—”
Bailee sucked her teeth. “He had the same bad breaks that you had. You were both raised by the same grandmother and you turned out just fine. Javari made a decision to be a lowlife hustler.”
“Yo! You’re talking about my cousin. As you well know, Javari and I did not have the same opportunities. Through scholarships, I was given a private school education, which was how I met you. Our paths would have never crossed if I hadn’t attended your school as a charity case.”
“And look how well you turned out. An attorney for one of the top law firms in the state, and eventually you’re going to have your own firm,” Bailee said proudly.
“Running my own firm is far off in the future. In the meanwhile, I have to play the part of a model employee. As you know, my firm is extremely conservative and I won’t stand a prayer for getting that new account if my wife’s best friend literally shows her ass at our anniversary party.”
Bailee found herself growing defensive. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that all the big bosses are going to be at our party and I don’t want to have to return to work the following Monday and hear that your girl was topping off all the male guests inside the restroom.”
“You’re being ridiculous. She’s bringing Sadeeq to the party.”
“Don’t you think it’s in poor taste for her to flaunt a married man at a respectable event?”
“If Sadeeq is actually married, I’m fairly certain Jayla isn’t aware of it.”
“Why don’t you ask her about it,” he said, jutting out his chin challengingly.
The sudden roar of the crowd emanated from the TV, and Trent, holding a bowl of ice cream, hurried over to the recliner.
Chapter 3
Jayla remembered the vileness of last night in laser-sharp detail, and it was difficult to get through her morning routine without vomiting. She listlessly applied makeup as she tried to prepare for the long day ahead. As she gazed at her reflection in the mirror, the woman looking back at her showed no outward signs of sexual abuse, but she could feel a silent scream pushing at the back of her throat, waiting to explode.
It had been an act of straight-up rape, yet that scumbag, Niles, had not only worn a condom but had also penetrated her tenderly, like it was a consensual act. If he really wanted to be considerate, he should have covered up his disgusting thumbnail before stroking it against her delicate skin and touching her intimate body parts. She hoped she hadn’t contracted anything from his nasty hand.
After forcing himself on her, he kissed her goodnight—with tongue—and then had the audacity to ask if she was free next weekend. She wanted to slap the smirk off his face and kick him in the groin, but afraid of prompting him to do something worse than he’d already done, she forced a smile and assured him that she’d give him a call.
The moment he left, she should have called the police. She should have gone to the hospital and let them do a rape kit. Besides the skin prick on her neck from the broken bottle, her body showed no signs of trauma.
It would be his word against hers.
Besides, she had no business inviting him to the client’s home, and a police investigation could cause her to lose her job. Not wanting to make any trouble with the real estate agency that employed her, she thought it best to pretend the devastating night had never happened.
But forgetting was easier said than done.
Never before had she felt so vulnerable and helpless. Never had anyone made her feel so dirty and worthless. After he left, she’d taken a scalding hot shower and scrubbed her skin until it was raw, but it was going to take more than soap and water to make her feel clean again.
It could have been worse. I could have been beaten within an inch of my life. Or murdered.
Last night had been a wakeup call, and Jayla made a promise to herself to stop looking for male companionship online. If she and Sadeeq didn’t get back together, she’d become celibate until she was emotionally healed. She vowed that the next man she got involved with would have to be carefully vetted before she risked being alone with him.
Needing to feel better about herself, Jayla paid special attention to her makeup, placing a double layer of lashes to her lids and then further embellishing them with gray eye shadow and perfectly applied winged eyeliner.
She created lip artistry by carefully brushing on a soft plum shade to her lips, adding a dash of hot pink to the center of each lip, and then blending in the bold color. She admired her reflection and concluded that her flawless makeup disguised her pain. It concealed her victimization and gave her the look of a woman who was in charge of her life. It gave her the appearance of someone who was happy and successful.
Jayla’s phone trilled and her heart tumbled with panic. No one called that early on a Saturday morning except Sadeeq, and she longed to hear his voice.
Thank God he had come to his senses and realized he couldn’t make it without her. His timing couldn’t have been more perfect because she needed him in her life, more than ever. She needed to be held in his arms and comforted after the hell she’d endured last night.
Prepared to tell Sadeeq how much she had missed him, she hastily snatched up the phone.
A glance at the screen revealed Bailee’s name instead of Sadeeq’s. Disappointed, Jayla frowned and hit the ignore button. It was too early in the morning to listen to Bailee’s happy ass talking nonstop about her damn anniversary party, acting like it was the most important event of the century.
Jayla regretted getting involved in the planning aspect, and was looking for an out. Until she came up with a believable excuse to not be the party planner, she’d have to continue ducking Bailee’s calls. Bailee was her girl and all, but her extreme enthusiasm over her upcoming party was too much to deal with. Her tenth wedding anniversary celebration was all she talked about. Frankly, the way she was acting was reminiscent of the bridezilla she’d been ten years ago.
There was a saying that you never really knew someone until you’d lived with them, but Jayla begged to differ. You never really know a bitch overly until she’s about to get married!
Usually a nice, polite, and considerate person, Bailee’s entire personality changed and she had become a monster during the months preceding her marriage to Trent. And the monster had reared its ugly head again with the planning of the anniversary party.
Nothing was good enough for Bailee. She shot down all of Jayla’s great suggestions, causing Jayla to wonder why Bailee needed a party planner at all. Obviously she was quite capable of organizing her own event.
* * *
After showing the property to the fourth potential buyer, Bailee received an offer. Going up and down the stairs from the basement to the upper level had worn her out. She was bone weary and couldn’t wait to get home and relax. Maybe she’d stop by her favorite Vietnamese restaurant. The nippy temperature warranted a piping-hot bowl of pho soup along with a double serving of smoked beef ribs and also a double serving of mussels smothered in onions.
But the restaurant’s meager dessert menu was less than desirable; she’d have to stop at the grocery store and pick up some snacks for after dinner. Her miserable mood justified buying a large container of ice cream, bakery goods, a bag of Doritos, and a large pack of gourmet jelly beans.
During the drive to the restaurant, her thoughts shifted from food to being raped by a lunatic with a slow stroke and a gentle hand. A predator that spoke softly in her ear during the assault that had lasted such an agonizingly long time.
She would have preferred if he’d used brute force. At least the attack would have ended sooner had he exerted himself by thrusting forcefully.
Jayla wondered how many women Nil
es had raped. Conceivably, too many to count. He was definitely a seasoned rapist. Like her, most of his victims were probably too ashamed and too confused to press charges. Rapists were supposed to rip off your clothes, slap you around, tie you up, and choke you. They weren’t supposed to tenderly caress your hair and your body while coercing you to do unspeakable sex acts.
The tears she’d been too numb to shed last night began to fill her eyes, obstructing her view, and forcing her to pull into the parking lot of a strip mall. Slumped over the steering wheel, she cried unabashedly. Tears darkened by eyeliner trailed down her face and dripped from her chin.
Unglued by tears, the double set of lashes slid down her cheeks. She cried for a full five minutes before fumbling inside the glove box and searching for a tissue. Her fingers landed on a napkin and she used it to wipe her eyes and blow her nose. When she checked out her appearance in the mirror, she realized that her makeup was smeared all over her face and she had bloodshot eyes. She looked too bad to be seen in public.
Resigning herself to the idea of having Chinese food delivered, she placed her hand on the gear shift. Suddenly, she was hit with a yearning for Sadeeq that was so profound, it was visceral, and she gasped with need.
She groped inside her purse, searching for her phone. As if reaching for a lifeline, she desperately wrapped her hand around the device and called Sadeeq. She had no words planned and when she heard his voice, her only response was to sniffle and whimper.
“Jayla? You okay?” Sadeeq questioned.
“Uh-huh,” she said, sniffling.
“Why’re you crying? What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Something’s wrong. Where are you?”
She sobbed. “In the car, on my way home.”
“Do you want me to come over?”
“Uh-huh. I really need to see you.” Her voice broke and she began to cry openly.
“What’s wrong, baby?” The concern and warmth in Sadeeq’s voice felt like a soft blanket had been wrapped around her.
“I miss you,” she choked out.
Sharp Curves Ahead Page 2