“That sounds crazy. Why wouldn’t she just go to EDC?”
“Girl, she got banned from coming up to her hubby’s job, hello.”
“Shame.” She started to laugh but didn’t want to give Lance the satisfaction. “Okay, so why is she hanging out at the workshop looking for women?”
“ ’Cause that sixty-year-old rascal who swears he’s a younger Burt Reynolds is trying to get his groove on sister-girl style. This pasty-looking fella who sings that same old tired song every Monday about how much he loves his dear wife is banging a woman who’s not his wife. Someone who works at our firm. And his wife wasn’t having it. She looked so funny racing all over A&E. Lucky for her whoever Daither is sleeping with never showed up, but that didn’t stop his poor wife from going around asking all kinds of questions.”
“Oh okay, sounds like one big mess,” Lorraine said in a bored tone. “Anyway, good seeing you. I’ll talk to you later.”
Toward the end of the concert, Posse grabbed Lorraine’s hand so tight she winced from the pain.
“Ouch, do you mind?”
“Lo, your body is here, but I know you. You not having a good time. Maybe coming to H-town was a bad move. I must be some kind of fool.” His voice was full of emotion, which made Lorraine feel worse.
“Posse, it’s not you. I just have a lot on my mind. Y-you’ve actually been perfect tonight.”
“But not perfect enough for a chick like you. I can never meet your standards, huh?”
“Standards? What are they?” She laughed though nothing was funny. “They’re almost a joke.”
“No, don’t say that. You gotta right to know what you want in a man. I just wish I coulda been dat man. . . .”
“Posse, not now.”
“When? Next week? Next month? Or never?” He had a rare frightened look in his eyes. Lorraine knew the guy had been through a lot of hardship in his life. Poverty. Racial discrimination. It wasn’t as if he was given the proper guidance so he could make the best choices. And he definitely had no say regarding the zip code he was born in. So what, he was from the hood. He knew pain, suffering, and despair as a daily way of life. But didn’t he still have a heart? Didn’t ghetto boys need love, too?
“Posse,” she replied gently. “Given the circumstances, this isn’t the best time for me to make that kind of decision. But I will say that in spite of what’s happened between us, you will always hold a special place in my heart.”
“Hallmark card? Or raw truth?”
“A little of both.” She winked.
He winked back and his worried look was replaced by a somber one.
“You’re good peeps,” Lorraine told him in an attempt to cheer Posse up. He nodded but didn’t say anything.
As the concert concluded and people spilled out into the aisles to leave the auditorium, Posse made sure to grab Lorraine’s hand. He carefully weaved his bulky fingers between her soft ones. She let him. She barely cared anymore. She needed love, but love was so damn confusing. Emotions were so deceiving. How could she maintain a level head when so much was going on around her lately?
“You know what?” Posse asked as he leaned in close so Lorraine could hear.
“What?”
“Jill Scott. Maxwell. They at the top of the list. Throw Luther Vandross in there, too. RIP.”
Lorraine beamed at her ex and felt better at that moment than she had all day.
Moments later she and Posse entered the wide hallway that led to the Toyota Center’s exit doors. She glanced a few feet in front of her and locked eyes with Wendell. He glanced at her, then at the guy wearing a conservative shirt, slacks, and shoes. But the fitted cap covering the top of his braids and the tattoos scattered across his bare arms told Wendell what he wanted to know. His eyes penetrated Lorraine’s and screamed, “How could you?”
Her eyes hollered back, “What the hell are you doing here?”
Posse was too busy scanning the crowd to notice the heated body language between Lorraine and Wendell. And when Posse spotted six guys wearing wife beaters and sagging pants, he instantly released her hand.
“BRB. Don’t go nowhere.”
Wendell swallowed deeply and thought fast. He grabbed Lorraine firmly by the arm and escorted her down the hallway. She had to practically run to keep up with him. She yelled questions at him. The venue’s hallway was filled with the clamor of voices. It was pointless to reply. He didn’t answer. He didn’t stop. He just needed to get away.
12
Access Granted
Lorraine stood barefoot, staring blankly out the window of their room they’d just checked into at the Crowne Plaza Hotel downtown. Her sandals lay sprawled on the tan carpet next to the front door. The room was complete with the typical king-size bed, chair, desk, and drawers. She may have been fully clothed, but the dour expression on her face made her feel naked and violated.
Wendell pulled his shirt off over his head so that his chiseled set of abs was front and center. He calmly waited for Lorraine to turn and feast her eyes on his body. He wanted her hands on him, too. But the woman didn’t move. She slouched and silently contemplated the night’s events.
Needing to break the ice, Wendell told her, “Lorraine, I-I’m so very sorry.”
“No. You’re. Not.”
“Okay, my apology may sound inadequate, but will you let me prove to you through my actions how I feel?”
“Wendell, the only reason you want to apologize is because godly intervention allowed me to catch your black ass at the concert. It’s not like you picked up the phone and tried to call me before now. You know how I know that? Because, as usual, when you don’t want to be bothered, you turn your damn phone off.”
“I wasn’t in an area where you’d be able to hear me.”
“Bull, Wendell. Total bullshit. Do you know how pissed off this makes me?”
“I know you’re mad because you don’t usually go off like this. But babe, please.” He caressed her shoulder. “That’s why I’m trying to make it up to—” He kissed her softly on the cheek.
“I can’t even believe I let you convince me to come to this stupid hotel. Do you think I’m going to be impressed just because you have the money to bring me here? You actually think I’m ready to give you some just because you want to stick your dick inside of me?” She examined him narrowly.
“Look, I said I’m sorry. Can we squash this? I don’t even know why we’re arguing—”
“Please don’t act as if you don’t know what I’m talking about or why I’m so mad I could strangle you. You’re wrong, Wendell. Totally wrong. And I will not let you treat me this way. Just because you come in a nice package and wear a decent suit and tie doesn’t mean you can behave any way you want as if a woman has no other choice but to accept it. You’re even worse than my ex.”
“At least someone like him can get second and third chances.”
“What? So you’re putting the fault on me for how you’ve been acting lately? Listen, Wendell. I do not deserve this back-and-forth, wishy-washy treatment. I hate it. It’s rude. You’re not considerate at all. You’re an ass.”
“Now hold on, you’re going too far.”
“And I can go farther, too, Wendell, because you’ve pushed me to my limits this time.”
“You’re going to have to give me a pass, Lorraine. I came to the concert, late as hell, but at least I showed up.”
“Shut up. You came to the concert without me. Big difference.”
“But—”
“No buts. I hate excuses. Why is it that men always get defensive when they know they’ve fucked up? What the hell is that? Be a real man and admit when you’re wrong.”
“I am a real man. Much more of a man than that thug you took to the concert! Did you have to buy the tickets and pay for your own food?”
Tears sprang in her eyes. She reeled back in shock.
Before she could respond, she started sneezing uncontrollably .She started trembling and looked in his eyes.
> “You took Faye, didn’t you?” she said in a shaky voice.
“W-what?”
She sneezed again. “Don’t lie to me, dammit. I am allergic to White Diamonds. And whoever wears fucking White Diamonds is the reason why you stood me up. Wendell, how could you? You played yourself. I’m out of here.”
She clenched her teeth and prepared to race out of the hotel room. But Wendell clutched her by the arm.
“Let me go.”
“I’m not done talking.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. You’re a liar.”
“And so are you!”
“What did you call me?”
“You’re just as hypocritical as I am, Lorraine. Do you think I’m so into you that I don’t notice other things going on? Lance told me some stuff.”
“He didn’t tell you anything because he doesn’t know anything.”
“Hello? Are you listening, Lorraine? He told me how he overheard you talking to Natalie about how much you’ve missed having sex with your ex.”
“What? That bastard. He heard wrong,” she snapped.
“And he printed out this, which is not something you can lie about.” Wendell went to his pad folio and withdrew several sheets of letter-size paper.
“How can you explain this, Ms. Eafford?”
A few days ago, Lorraine had created e-mails from her work account. Messages that she’d typed, but saved in her drafts folder because she couldn’t decide if she actually wanted to send them.
Hi Posse, Have you checked out the rates for Southwest Airlines from Dallas to Houston? They’re real cheap. I could use another minivacation. We could hang out.
And . . .
Just woke up. You were in my dream. Damn, I wish you could still hold me through the night. I felt so protected with you next to me. But I guess it’s too late to admit these feelings now, huh? I know I probably keep you confused. I keep my damn self confused, too. LOL.
“Why is he snooping in my e-mails?”
“He’s the fucking IT administrator. He’s granted access to all that shit. And he’s who I talk to when I really want access to the true Lorraine. That’s the only way I can get the raw truth about you.”
“You son of a bitch. You know what? This isn’t working for me. I’m out.”
“Bye, Lorraine!”
She gasped, then quickly located her purse and grabbed her shoes. She opened the door and fled from the room. Throat thick with pain she moaned, her head filled with confusion. She tried to pray and wished right then that her dear mother, whose prayers she usually rejected, was thinking of her. Lorraine half-ran down the hall until she reached the elevator. It took so long for the elevator to stop at her floor that she headed farther down the hall, opened the door to the interior stairwell, and decided to race down seven flights of stairs.
As soon as her bare feet got her down one level, she let out a muffled scream. Her face was soon drenched with a stream of heated tears she’d been holding in for months. A guttural moan escaped her lips, her vision soon blurred by burdens she could no longer carry.
“I can’t believe I’m crying . . . over a man.” She wept and clumsily held her face in her hand; the heat of humiliation poured over her like raindrops.
Men who rarely cried were born to make women cry. And what reason could God give for creating men who seemingly did whatever they wanted to do without suffering punishment? Men who routinely cheated, lied, and hid their true nature from their wives or girlfriends and thought nothing of it. “This is how we’re wired,” they explained as if that belief makes wrong behavior acceptable. Was God a chauvinist? Didn’t he care about women’s feelings?
Lorraine’s heart throbbed with pain every time she entertained these thoughts. It made her feel that expecting a good and honest relationship was unrealistic. Based on the rate of divorces and couples breaking up in general, why should she even want a man?
By the time she finishing crying, she felt exhausted. She located her cell phone and dialed.
“Lo?”
“Hi!” she said breathlessly.
“Why you breathing so hard?”
“Tired.” She nodded. “So tired.”
“Where the hell you been? I told your hard-headed ass not to leave. I was gone only fifteen. Came back and your ass got ghost.”
“I know. It’s complicated. Can you please come get me?”
“Now?”
“Um, yes. You have my car and I have no other way to get home.”
“Damn, Lo. I-I was watching the game. LeBron’s shooting the lights out these fools.”
“W-what?”
“Okay okay okay. Where you at?”
“I’m still downtown. Pick me up outside the Toyota Center.”
“You was there all dat time? You couldn’t have called before now?”
“It’s complicated.”
With darkness surrounding her, Lorraine walked three miles back to the Toyota Center and waited for Posse. In all that time, Wendell never called her. Posse spotted her on the corner and pulled up. She slid onto her seat and gave him a grateful smile and a warm kiss on his lips. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but tonight . . . finally . . . it seems like you’ve become my perfect man. My knight.”
“Oh yeah? Lo, you got a nigga rollin’.” He blushed. “That’s what I like to hear.”
Posse drove them back to Lorraine’s apartment. When they arrived in front of her apartment unit, the living room windows were illuminated.
“I thought I turned off the lights before we left,” she murmured as she waited for Posse to open the passenger door.
Posse used her keys to let them in. She placed one foot inside her apartment and stopped. Six unfamiliar guys wearing hoodies and baggy blue jeans were sprawled together on her sofa and love seat. Lit cigarettes hung from their mouths. Some drank beer, others smoked weed, and the television volume was turned up as loud as possible as they watched an NBA game.
“What the fuck is going on? Who are these people?”
“Lo, calm down. These my H-town partners. That’s Weazy.” He pointed. “There’s Little Mike, his daddy Big Mike, G-Low, Din-Din, and Simeon. Remember, I ran into them at the concert—”
“Why the hell are they in my place drinking up all my beer? And you know I hate the smell of pot. This is bullshit.”
“Calm down, my lady.”
“I’m not your lady. We don’t live together, Posse. Everybody listen up. You’re going to have to leave . . . right now.”
“What’s got her panties all in a bunch? These hos be bugging,” she heard one snaggle-toothed guy mutter. “Better put your lady in check.”
“Huh? I don’t think so. This is my place. I don’t know you and I don’t want to know you. You’re going to have to get the hell out of here.” She spun around and faced Posse, bristling with anger. “I pegged you all wrong. You’re full of shit. And you’ll never change.”
“Your snobby ass will never change either.”
13
Good Attracts Good
On Monday when Lorraine arrived at work, his desk was cleaner than ever. Nothing that belonged to Wendell could be found in the office. She picked up the phone and dialed Natalie. “Can you please come see me ASAP?”
The two ladies huddled together whispering. “Have you seen Houston today?” Lorraine asked.
“No, not at all. Y’all lovebirds must’ve really had a huge fight.”
“Tell me about it. In a way I guess it’s for the best. I barely wanted to show up today. I don’t want to face this guy. He’s a liar.”
“Maybe he felt ashamed of himself. They usually do after a while.”
Lorraine laughed. “Girl, you sound just like my sister.”
“I guess I am in a way.” She smiled.
“Thanks, Nat. Anyway,” she said cautiously and made sure the office door was shut tight. “Can you believe that idiot Lance was monitoring my e-mails and had the nerve to print them out and pass them around like they’re
a birthday-party invite? I could file a complaint and get his silly butt fired. What manager does stuff like that?”
“Idiot managers. Don’t worry about Lance. Just be careful with the paper trail.”
“Ha. There won’t be any more paper trails. I’m so through with men I don’t know what to do.”
“Yeah, but Houston may have moved out of the office, but you gotta face him at the sandcastle meeting today,” she whispered.
“No, I’m not. I’m pulling out.”
“What? It’s too late to get anyone else.”
“I honestly don’t give a fuck. Do you think I can work side by side with that guy after all he’s put me through? Stupid!”
“Yeah, he is stupid to chase a piece of ass over you.”
“I’m talking about myself. I never should have gotten involved with him. It’s too close for comfort when things go wrong.”
“But you didn’t know how it would end up.”
“True, but still . . . I really don’t want to ever see his face again. And it’s not like I can go out there and find me another high-paying job real quick. The architecture industry is already suffering.”
“Don’t be so extreme. You and Houston will be fine; just give it some time.”
Lorraine’s iPhone buzzed.
“Oh God, I wish he’d just leave me the hell alone.” She let Natalie glance at the call screen.
“Two-one-four area code? Must be Dallas, huh?” She giggled. “Girl, that man loves you to death, I don’t care how bad he talked to you the other night.”
“Verbal abuse isn’t love, Nat. You know that.”
“I think Dallas just doesn’t know how to properly express himself. But anybody can see the love is there, even though he sounds very rough around the edges.”
“Yeah, well, whatever.”
Later that afternoon, Natalie stopped by Lorraine’s office, pointing at the wall clock.
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