“Hi,” I addressed them all after they personally introduced themselves to me.
“Germaine, my man, where have you been hiding this one for all these years?” someone yelled out.
“This one?” I repeated.
“Hummer, don’t start, man,” Germaine intervened before I could let loose on him. “Nikki is a very busy woman.”
“When you run your own business, you don’t have time for little people,” I interjected.
I could tell that I’d struck a nerve. All of them turned to Germaine who tried to hide the stunned look on his face.
Another one of the frat brothers tried to break the ice. “So, what is it like being a big time record producer?”
The others stared at me waiting for my answer. “I’m not a record producer. I own my record label. There’s a difference,” I stressed then flashed my pearly whites.
“So, when can we stop by the studio and…” a stout, pimple faced frat brother began.
“Boys,” I interrupted with a bright smile as I seductively clutched Germaine’s arm, “It’s playtime and I don’t talk business when I’m playing.”
They all laughed. “We’ll see ya’ inside,” one of them addressed Germaine as they walked toward the hall.
“What in the hell was that?” Germaine asked after pulling away from me with a pissed off look on his face.
“That was for leaving me in the fucking car. Besides, I thought you wanted me to be friendly.”
“Why can’t you behave?” he heaved. “You’re a piece of work, Nikki. I guess you lied to me when you told me that we were okay.”
“I didn’t say that we were okay. I said that I was straight,” I corrected him.
“For once in your life, can you give a damn about someone other than yourself?” Germaine said before stomping away.
He left me standing in the slightly dark parking lot and jetted inside the hall. I shrugged my shoulders then laughed at his childish move. Instead of following him inside, I hopped back in the passenger seat of the car, pulled out my cell phone from my purse then pressed #2…the speed dial for Kingston’s number. No answer. I waited five minutes before trying again. Again, no answer. After letting out a huge sigh, I dropped the phone back into my purse, hopped out of the car and headed for the hall. When I made it to the door, I bumped into Germaine.
“Nikki, I’m sorry for flipping out like that. I was just on my way out to get you,” he said trying to hand me a Corona.
“I’ll bet you were.” I rolled my eyes then attempted to walk past him, but he gently grabbed my arm.
“Nikki, please don’t do this tonight,” he begged. “This is an important night for me.”
I glanced around the room at all of his fraternity brothers who were having fun, drinking, telling jokes, reminiscing and dancing. At that moment, I decided not to ruin Germaine’s night. I figured we wouldn’t be together much anyway so there was no point in doing so. When he saw that I was easing up, he tried to hand me the Corona again.
“Just because I’m in the hood, doesn’t mean I have to act hood,” I said, turning my nose up at the beer.
“You’re not in the hood,” Germaine corrected. “You used to drink Coronas when we lived in Louisiana,” he reminded. “Besides, snooty people drink beer, too.”
“Snooty?” I laughed. “I don’t want the fucking beer, Germaine. Just because you still drink them doesn’t mean I have to.”
“Look, we won’t be here long. I promise.”
“I hope I don’t have to deal with this shit all night,” I said watching the men make complete asses of themselves. They were posted up on all fours acting like a dog and centipede on the floor in their purple or gold shirts.
“Just be nice. We won’t be here all night.”
“I hope the hell not,” I mumbled before walking off.
CHAPTER 5
As I walked the room, I noticed all the men and women staring at me. Hell, I couldn’t blame them though. They saw confidence, attitude and money and knew that Germaine had picked a good one. The women wanted to be in the size five dress that I was rocking and the men wanted to be under it. I knew that I was going to be overdressed when I picked out my outfit, but that was my point. I wanted all eyes on me. Again, I loved attention whether it was bad or good.
I walked over to the open bar that was made up of two long, buffet tables. Those crowding the tables helped themselves to beer from kegs, bottles of Hennessey, Courvoisier or whatever was available. I wanted a glass of champagne, but quickly realized I wasn’t going to get one after seeing all the ghetto, red cups being passed around.
“Amateurs,” I pouted softly.
Suddenly, the DJ began playing the Cupid Shuffle. I was nearly trampled over as everyone made a mad dash to the dance floor like it had rained EBT cards with the pin numbers.
“You wanna go out there?” someone asked.
I turned around, and was faced with one of Germaine’s frat buddies from outside. I wondered if someone told him that the Mohawk style didn’t look good on his lemon shaped head.
“You’re Hummer, right?” I asked trying to remember the names during Germaine’s introduction. I stepped away from him because he was all over my dress.
“Yeah, I’m Hummer,” he answered with drunken eyes and alcohol breath.
“What kind of name is Hummer?”
“Ask about half of these women in here,” he slurred. “I hum on that pussy and…”
“T-M-I! I don’t need nor do I want to hear that,” I replied then turned my nose up at him.
“Alright then,” he laughed. “So, you don’t shuffle?”
“Absolutely not. Nor do I swag surf, stanky leg, booty do, crank that or jerk.”
“What?” he asked.
“In simple terms that you may understand, I don’t dance.”
“Do you think you’re too good to do the hood dances?”
I smiled. “Are you serious? I’m from the hood and besides, I have rappers on my label so don’t come at me with that shit.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I just don’t fucking dance,” I snapped.
“Then you can’t be from the hood,” Hummer responded.
“Let me explain something to you, sweetie. I’m from the hood, but I’m not hood. And one thing has nothing to do with the other. You understand?”
“Someone as sexy as you and with an ass like yours should be out there flaunting her stuff,” he slurred. I was beginning to feel a little uneasy, but I held my composure. “Germaine won’t mind if that’s what you think.”
Something about his statement instantly bothered me. “He probably won’t mind, but I do. What is that supposed to mean anyway?”
“So, I guess Germaine never told you about how we used to share, huh?” Hummer spoke as he pressed against me. I instantly shoved him off of me before he could scuff my shoes.
“What the fuck is your problem?” I barked at him.
He grabbed me by the arm when I tried to walk away. “I…I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean anything by what I said,” he stated. “I just had too much to drink tonight.”
I yanked my arm away and searched for Germaine through the purple, gold and white balloons that were floating everywhere. Seconds later, I spotted him at a table conversing with a few of his friends. I walked up with an instant attitude.
“Hey, baby. This is Tyrell,” Germaine introduced. “He’s the one who I told you about. You know…the one who’s getting married.”
“I’m ready to go,” I spoke frantically, ignoring his introduction as well as Tyrell’s fat hand that was extended.
Germaine could see the disturbed look on my face and hopped out of his seat. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“We need to go, Germaine. I can’t stay here in this shit-hole.”
I could tell by his friend’s faces that they were a little bothered by my remark, but I didn’t care.
“Nikki, just thirty more minutes
,” Germaine pleaded in a whisper.
“Fine. Find your own damn ride home,” I snarled after snatching the keys off the table next to his Newports and black lighter.
I pushed through the crowd, stomped out of the hall and toward the car pointing and pressing the key to unlock the door.
“Are you okay?”
When I turned to the voice, I revealed a startled look on my face.
“I didn’t mean to scare you. You and Germaine alright?”
It was Hummer.
“That’s none of your fucking business. I told you to leave me alone.” When I opened the driver’s door, he slammed it shut. “What the fuck are you doing?” I stared into his beady eyes. I then glanced at the hall and realized that the distance from the car to the front door was too far to run in the four and a half inch heels I had on. “G…Germaine should be out here any second,” I stuttered.
“Well, until he comes, I think we can find something to do,” Hummer replied as he backed me against the car with his body.
“Get the hell off of me!” I spoke loudly, hoping someone would hear me over the loud music inside. I squeezed the keys inside my right hand and whacked him across the head with them. At that point, Hummer staggered backward and grabbed his head to see if he was bleeding.
“You stupid bitch!” He charged at me forcing my body against the car. I fought with all my might to break free, but he was too strong. “Bitch, I told you that me and Germaine shared.” I turned my face away from him after smelling his alcohol scented breath when he tried to kiss me. “Don’t fight this, bitch,” Hummer continued as he reached under my dress and into my panties. “I feel the heat coming off of this pussy baby. Just the way I like it,” he said, sounding like a horny pervert.
I clenched my thighs together when he tried to force his fingers inside my goodie jar. But before Hummer could win that battle, he was yanked away.
“Nigga, have you have lost your fucking mind!” Germaine barked before shoving Hummer on the ground.
Furious, I ran around Germaine and kicked Hummer in the face as hard as I could then stomped the heel of my shoe in his chest. When he removed his hand from his mouth, I saw that he was bleeding. I went to kick him again, but Germaine grabbed me.
“Hummer, this is some fucked up shit, man and you know it!”
“I thought we were boys, G,” Hummer addressed Germaine when he picked himself up off the ground. “It used to be what was yours was mine and what was mine was yours.”
“Nigga, that was fucking college! This is my wife! You need to get the fuck away from me before I hurt you.” Hummer took heed to Germaine’s threat and walked away with his tail between his legs. “Did he hurt you?” Germaine questioned as he looked me over and caressed my face.
I instantly slapped his hands away. “Is that it?”
“Is what it?”
“He just attacked me and you’re just gonna let his ass go?”
“Nikki, he’s drunk!”
“Drunk or not, he just tried to rape me! Did you not see where he had his hand? In my pussy, Germaine! In my pussy! I did more to him than you did!”
“Look, calm down.”
I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing or hearing. Was he really gonna let this mofo get away with almost raping me? He needed to know this was unacceptable.
“I will not calm down. If you hadn’t brought your ass out here that nigga would’ve raped me, Germaine!” I screamed after shifting my weight to one side to let him know that I was really pissed.
“Nikki, he’s drunk. I’m sure he didn’t mean any harm,” Germaine attempted to convince me.
“You’re a fucking idiot! No real man would let that asshole get away with that shit!”
“Let’s just go home and cool down.”
I watched my husband glance back and forth and side to side to see if anyone was witnessing our argument. I knew that causing a scene was making him a bit uncomfortable, but as usual I didn’t care. He needed to know just how uncomfortable I felt. I glared at him with my light brown eyes. If looks could kill, he’d be dead. He pulled his pack of Newports from his back pocket. But before he could slide one out of the pack, I slapped it out of his hand. Immediately, those thick, black eyebrows of his connected and his nose flared.
“So, you wanna hit me over some fucking cigarettes and not that nigga who just tried to rape me?” I taunted.
“Fuck this!” Germaine yelled while throwing his hands up in the air. “The damn man is drunk! Hummer could never hurt a soul!”
“What did you two do in college?” I asked.
“What? What are you talking about?” he asked dumbfounded.
“That asshole, Hummer, told me that you used to share everything. What the hell was he talking about?”
When Germaine started scratching his head, I knew that I’d struck a nerve. “It was nothing, Let’s just go home.”
“No. You shared women, didn’t you?”
He sighed. “Listen, it was just once, but the girl was willing. She liked both of us anyway.”
“I knew there was a reason I didn’t wanna come here tonight,” I rolled my eyes at him. “Take me home. Now!”
“Nikki, I’m sorry.”
“Fuck that sorry shit! You don’t have to worry about me attending anymore of these fucking parties.”
I climbed into the passenger seat and waited for him to hop behind the wheel. I then peeped out the corner of my eye and watched him lean against the car and place his face in his hands. It looked as if he was trying to figure out a way to fix things between us. But there was nothing he could do and I think he knew that. “Germaine,” I called out to him as I leaned over and tapped on the window to get his attention, “let’s go.”
The ride home was an exact duplicate of the ride there…quiet. All I could think about was my husband not defending my honor in the way he should have and I knew he was thinking the same. What would Kingston have done if someone had assaulted me? I thought.
As we hopped on I-10, I couldn’t help but notice all of the hotels as we passed by. I wished I was locked behind one of the doors with my lover instead of riding home with my weak ass husband. He was beginning to disgust and annoy me even more and I think he had a clue of this as well.
When we arrived home, I hopped out of the car before he could put it in park then dashed inside the house. Germaine soon followed grabbing me before I could disappear into my hideaway. I yanked away.
“Don’t fucking touch me!”
“Wow! Where’d that come from?”
I gave him a disgusted look. “Where the fuck do you think? You should’ve kicked his ass!”
“What would that have solved, Nikki? Would it have made you feel better if I had gave his ass a busted lip, a black eye or maybe a bloody nose?”
“Yes,” I answered sternly.
“I’m not a violent man and you know that. You shouldn’t expect violence from me.”
“Violence has nothing to do with this situation. What if you hadn’t come outside? What if it had gone further than it did?”
“That’s different.”
“No, it’s not because your weak ass wouldn’t have done anything more than…”
I stopped in mid sentence when I watched Germaine turn into the Incredible Hulk and punch a hole in the wall. “Is that what you want? Is that what you wanted me to do to him? It’s over! You don’t have to worry about him!” he screamed. “I don’t want to talk about this shit anymore! It’s done! It’s over with!” he growled then stepped in my face.
My smart mouth couldn’t produce any words and at that particular moment I don’t think I even wanted to. He brushed past me with an angry, yet hurt look on his face, stomped to the bedroom and slammed the door. As bad as the situation had turned out, I wasn’t gonna spend the rest of my evening worrying about him or his feelings. Instead, I trotted to the kitchen, and poured myself a glass of Moscato. I needed something to relax me after the night’s events.
After wa
lking into the living room and taking a few sips from my glass, I heard the upstairs shower in the master bedroom running. At the same time, I heard my cell phone ringing inside my purse. I glanced at my watch. I knew that it could only be Kingston calling me at one a.m., and luckily Germaine wasn’t around to question me about it. I placed the glass on the coffee table and anxiously dug around in my purse for my phone.
“Hello?” I answered.
“I see you called. What’s going on?” Kingston spoke.
“Tonight was fucked up, Kingston. It was really fucked up,” I breathed and sighed into the phone while tiptoeing to my office downstairs.
“I’m listening.”
I spent the next ten minutes telling him about the night while Germaine obviously took a long ass shower like a bitch.
“Germaine is a weak nigga, Niquole,” Kingston said after he heard the story. “He has no fucking balls. He should’ve got all up in that nigga’s shit.”
His words were so intense and extremely passionate, I hung off of every one of them.
“I know, but it’s over now. I told him that I’m…”
“It’s not over until I say it’s over,” Kingston interrupted before disconnecting the call.
CHAPTER 6
“I can’t wait ‘til I’m in your arms again and feel your hands all over my skin,” I sang in the shower while reminiscing about my last performance on stage. I remembered it like it was yesterday although it was nearly six years ago. The Hard Rock Café in New Orleans had sold out all because of me. The first single, Love Under Me, and only album, Things Change, went gold in less than a week. I was a force to be reckoned with and everyone knew it. However, I was devastated when that spotlight was turned off. Now, singing in the shower was my new stage. “Your breath against my neck sends chills up and down my spine…”
I stopped singing when Germaine startled me by barging into the bathroom screaming about my vibrating phone. I grabbed one of the thick, green towels from the rack, wrapped it around my wet body and snatched my phone from his hand.
“Why in the fuck are you going through my damn phone?” I demanded while scrolling through it to see the calls and texts that I’d missed.
The Available Wife Page 5