“I guess.”
“You guess? Do I come kick the coochie out of your mouth when Bradley ain’t around?!”
I jumped at the reminder and playfully covered my ears. Suddenly Tricey started to laugh thunderously.
I asked her, “What the hell is so funny?”
“When we were younger we always thought that Vic would grow up to be the black sheep since she was the one so out of control back then,” she answered still laughing. “But here we are; I’m screwing a married man, and you’re having a threesome.”
I laughed along with her as I told her, “Shut up! It is not a threesome.”
“Might as well be.”
I didn’t bother to argue with her. She was right. Tricey and I turned into two bundles of a lot of hot mess while Vic raised DeSire in Lynwood in a beautiful town home being the typical loving and responsible single mother. Though I still have not spoken to Vic since she so deceitfully started sleeping with Taij, Tricey’s high school heartbreak, I have heard the details of her terrible break up from Taij. After she graduated from college and got a position at our old high school, Kraton High, as a school counselor, she and DeSire moved back to Chicago. She has yet to be in another relationship since Taij. There are booty calls here and there, but nothing significant. I personally think she’s still in recovery from that nightmare called Taij, who from time to time travels from Atlanta to see his daughter.
Vic’s life sounds dry and simple; working by day and being a wonderful mother by night, while getting her MA on-line through DPU’s Distance Education program along with Tricey. She has a simple life that I would pay my last dime to live right now.
As she reached out of the window to pay the cashier, Tricey asked, “Will Veronica be at Bradley’s party Friday?”
“Of course she is,” I answered as I sighed. “Though I don’t think she should at this stage of the game.”
Friday is Bradley’s surprise birthday party that I have been planning for the last three months. All of his friends and family, and my friends will be there; including Veronica.
Veronica hangs out with me and Bradley frequently; at our home watching movies, shopping, and even during a night on the town. However, no sooner than Veronica and I are alone, we are still those passionate lovers that we’ve always been.
I’ve been so dishonest with Bradley about the depth of me and Veronica’s relationship because Bradley is against allowing his woman to have bisexual relationships. He says cheating is cheating, be it with a man or woman. In the beginning, I didn’t feel there was a need to tell him about my bisexuality because I thought his moment in my life was temporary. Then I realized that I loved him and couldn’t bear to reveal that I had been so deceitful.
I thought I would never love another man until I met Bradley. We flirted for merely two weeks before he had me on all fours in the back of his Infiniti QX56. I didn’t think I would fall in love with Bradley and neither did Veronica. So as the weeks went by, as the months went by, as Bradley and I moved in together, and as he got down on one knee and I said “yes”, Veronica stayed right there beside me. There has never been another woman in my life or vice versa. And for that, I can’t let her go.
“Veronica knows her role,” Tricey teased. “Why do you think she shouldn’t be at the party?”
Lately, Veronica has been getting pushy. In two months, Bradley and I are getting married. The church is set, the rings have been purchased, and my dress is finished, as is Tricey’s. However, as the date draws nearer and nearer, Veronica wants more; more of my attention and more of my time.
“She wants me to leave Bradley.”
Tricey hit the brakes before realizing that she’d traveled onto the on-ramp of 90/94 East so had to keep going. “What?! When did she say this?”
Tricey has been the friend that she has always been by accepting Veronica and I as an “item” and never judging me. By now she and Veronica considered themselves friends, so they often times were together and talked without me.
“Last night,” I answered.
“She didn’t tell me that. Had you all just finished having sex?”
I smacked my lips and asked, “Why does that matter, Tricey?”
“Hey, a good nut will make you say some strange shit.”
“It’s not strange. I saw it coming. She loves me. I am all she has had for over a year now. She has never been willing to court a man or another woman. She only wants me.”
“Because she loves you.”
“I love her too.”
“So what are you going to do?”
I sat sipping my cappuccino and looking at the three-stone diamond engagement ring that Bradley slipped on my finger six months ago as I answered, “I don’t know.”
Veronica’s 2008 Sebring was waiting patiently in the driveway of me and Bradley’s two-story contemporary brick home when I arrived. Tricey was on her way to meet Amiel for a long overdue rendezvous at her place, so she quickly said her farewells and was off to her condo that was just a ten minute drive up the road.
Luckily for me and Veronica, Bradley wasn’t due home for another twenty minutes or so.
“How was work?”
I answered Veronica as she and I entered the house. “The usual; pushing papers to make sure doctors get their grant money.”
After graduation, I opted out of following Tricey in her quest of higher education. I got a position at Saint Matthews as a Project Administrator. It’s not as glamorous as me and Veronica’s days at Club 312, shaking our asses for what we make in a month now for what we made in a week then, but it pays the bills.
Upon entering the house we walked through the main level family room, up the staircase, and into the master bedroom. I could still smell the Sean John Unforgivable that has since worn off of my skin.
When I finally relieved my feet of the Cole Hann pumps that had been killing them all day, Veronica and I sat closely beside one another on the chocolate Venus three-seat sofa placed in front of the picture window. Bradley and I called our bedroom “Chocolate City” since all of its furnishings were shades of brown; from the antique satin drapes, to the bedding, and then followed by the Hampton rug.
“I missed you,” Veronica purred into my ear as we cuddled for the first time in a week.
Lately, I have been so busy planning Bradley’s surprise party and the wedding that I haven’t had much time for anything besides work and tending to my fiancé.
I apologized for my absence by kissing her lips softly and then sticking my tongue in her mouth forcefully. The aggressiveness always drove her crazy.
She confirmed what I knew with more purrs of satisfaction. “Mmmm, that’s why I can’t get enough of you.”
No sooner than I was literally about to suck the lip gloss from her lips, I could hear keys in the front door. On cue, Veronica made distance between us with an irritated grunt.
“Don’t be like that,” I whispered.
Rolling her eyes, she replied, “Whatever.”
Sitting next to me in her nursing scrubs with her arms folded across her chest, pout in place, and attitude clearly on her mug, I still couldn’t help but to adore her, so I leaned into her and kissed her once again before standing.
“Let me go say hi,” I said. “You comin’?”
“I’ll stay here.”
I didn’t bother arguing with her before exiting the room to meet Bradley downstairs. Lately, Veronica hasn’t been her normal happy-go-lucky-self. She’s been making her irritation of our situation and my marriage to Bradley very evident; when just two months ago, she was happy to merely be in my presence and was the first to say how lucky I was to have a man like him.
Bradley was standing in the family room going through mail when I entered. His eyes looking into mine reminded me why I choose marrying him over keeping a smile on Veronica’s face.
“Hey, baby,” I greeted as I kissed Bradley on the cheek.
In return, he kissed me on my forehead saying, “Hey, babe.”
/> “How was your day?”
“Terrible,” he barked. “Those knuckle head ass beauticians at the shop actin’ crazy with my booth rent. Barbers can’t stop getting into mess with the beauticians. I told them niggas that if they break the rules and sleep with one of the beauticians at the shop, they gotta get themselves out of their own shit. Why would you sleep with a woman that works with you? I never understood that shit! Then they wanna run to me when they can’t keep the bitch in check. Fuck all ‘lat. Everybody gimme my money and keep the bullshit to a minimum.”
Bradley owned a salon near downtown Chicago on 21st and Michigan called The Loft. The Loft was an old loft that he converted into a full service hair salon about two years ago; beauticians on the first floor, barbers on the second, and spa treatments available in the basement. I met him there when Trina, one of the beauticians, use to do my hair. Since we started dating, I opted to find another location for cosmetic services due to the very drama that he is ranting and raving about right now.
“Baby, you know a mixture of men and women will always equal drama,” I told Bradley.
“True, but I prefer that they keep me out of it and just give me my money. I don’t wanna hear about their baby daddies not paying child support this month, not having any clients, and blah, blah, blah. Just run me my money!”
I smiled seductively at him as I said, “You want me to go over there and beat some people up?”
Bradley smiled down on me, but the effect of his day was still evident in his expression. Despite his smile, he looked weary and tired. His eyes were a hint of red, his broad shoulders rode low on his 6’4” frame, and his Ed Hardy button up was unfastened revealing a wife beater underneath.
When Bradley first opened his shop, he used to have an athletic body. I’ve seen the pictures. Since then, adult responsibilities, drama of controlling grown folks, and bills have kept him out of the gym. Though two-hundred and ninety-five pounds with very little muscle, Bradley was the big man that I desired to make me feel petite and always secure.
Bradley’s complexion matched the “Chocolate City” theme of our bedroom. I love a dark man. Something about black skin just turns me on, though I am very fair-skinned. With neat dreads kept in a ponytail that reaches the arch of his back, he always made me feel like I was dating a brotha from the Bronx.
“What do you want for dinner?”
Just as Bradley was about to answer, Veronica came jogging down the steps with her purse and keys in hand.
Bradley playfully greeted her. “What’s up, Miss V?”
Though Bradley greeted her with his usual joy of seeing her, Veronica merely sighed as she said, “Hey, Bradley,” and then turned to me as she said, “I’m about to get out of here.”
I rebutted, “But you just got here.”
Then Bradley teased her. “You aren’t attaching yourself to my girl’s hip today?”
I laughed, but Veronica found little funny, as she looked at me with the same irritation that she had on her face when I left her upstairs five minutes ago.
The tension between Veronica and I was obvious. Bradley nervously looked back and forth between us like he was wondering what was going on.
“I’ll see you later,” was simply what Veronica said before heading toward the door without any further farewells to either me or Bradley.
To avoid further suspicion, I didn’t follow her or say anything else.
As he sat comfortably on the couch and turned on the television, Bradley asked, “What’s her problem? She ain’t gettin’ no dick?”
I laughed, answering, “Probably not.”
TRICEY
I wasn’t surprised when Amiel called to say that he wouldn’t be able to make it. Between work, Bridget, the kid, and the soon-to-be kid, the next time that I see him is always up in the air. However, every time I look out of my bedroom window and see that shiny red Chrysler sitting in the driveway, for some reason, it really doesn’t bother me.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’ll make it my business to see you soon,” he told me.
“It’s cool.”
Since he stood me up, I opted to slip out of the gown that I put on to look sexy in as I cooked, and put on a pair of boxer briefs and tank top instead.
“No, it’s not. I was so ready to see you,” Amiel fussed. “I was on my way to your place until Bridget called. She isn’t feeling well, so I had to pick Jackie up from the sitter for her.”
Instantly, my eyes rolled into the back of my head. Bridget is always sick. I swear she is milking this pregnancy for everything its worth. She is in the emergency room more than the damn doctors themselves. If she coughs too hard, she is calling Amiel, crying like a wimp.
But like a good little girl, I said nothing and let him vent.
“I’m so sick of this shit. I wish she’d hurry up and have this baby so we can get this shit over with. She acts like she can’t do shit for herself. And she’s always calling me. You’d think she never had a damn baby before.”
I replied, “Well, she’s never had one without you being there for her.”
“I am there.”
“Physically, but not emotionally or romantically.”
Amiel and Bridget have been going through a lot of marital problems since before he and I met. Every other week it was drama, drama, drama, but not enough drama for him to keep his dick out of her, which is how she got knocked up during their separation. Because Bridget put on such a performance, acting like being pregnant, separated, and living with her mother was such a distress for her, Amiel let her move back in to keep any stress off of the baby. But they continue to live their lives as if they are separated. However, Bridget saw the invitation to move back in as an invitation to repair their marriage. Amiel claims that once she gives birth, he’s putting her back out and continuing the divorce process.
No matter how much he downplays their relationship, and no matter the chemistry between us, our relationship has gotten difficult for me as of late. When I met Amiel and he told me that he was separated, I told myself to simply enjoy his company, the attention, and the sex. Prior to meeting him, I spent so much time focusing on love, commitment, respect, and finding those things that I was left very heartbroken. I finally decided that I simply wanted to be happy, and then came Amiel. Amiel and I immediately connected in a way that I have only experienced with people that I’ve known all of my life. There is chemistry between us that no one can deny. Initially, it was okay to listen to him talk about moving Bridget back in, because I didn’t have feelings for him. I didn’t care about the woman living with him because, though we were sleeping together and were the best of friends, I had yet to grow deep feelings for him.
But now, the lover in me, the woman within me that sleeps with him on a regular basis and plays every role of a wife that his repulsion for the legal wife asks me to, is starting to become frustrated with the bullshit. It is well known between Amiel and I that we have chemistry, that we love each other, and that we cherish our relationship. But, unfortunately, I feel as if I have fell in love with what was only suppose to be a booty call.
However, this fall into love has not been in vain. Amiel encourages it. He praises our chemistry, dares me to leave him, and let’s not forget the car. I enjoy him, but resent him at the same time because I cannot understand how he can swear by our connection and then go home to a woman that he hates every night. I feel as if no sooner than he and I developed true feelings, Bridget came waddling her ass back into his life and snatched my happily ever after from my finger tips. A big part of me wants to leave him, since I am beginning to be unable to deal with him and Bridget’s “arrangement”. But he has played such a positive role in my life that I also love his friendship and his company, so it’s hard for me to walk away.
Because I fell in love having full knowledge of what the situation was, I don’t fault him. I do, however, fault him for putting my feelings aside for someone who literally ruins his day with every word that she speaks. But because this is t
he most honest relationship that I’ve been in next to my friendship with Lyric, I honor our chemistry with respect and patience for the “situation” that he is in. I honor that chemistry by allowing this to play out while simply enjoying our time together and ignoring the love for him that is growing in my heart.
“I just don’t like her. I want her to have this baby and get her shit together so she can move out and stand on her on two feet. But she can’t focus on that because she’s too busy trying to stay a ‘family’.”
“Well, what woman wouldn’t want that?”
“But this man doesn’t.”
To any other woman, this would sound like game, but his dissatisfaction with his marriage has been a consistent argument from him since prior to the development of our sexual relationship. Bridget surely gets on my nerves, but that’s because I would hate for any male friend of mine that I care about to be stuck with an insignificant and useless wife. And that’s what Amiel and I are over anything; friends. During this past year, we’ve developed a bound that’s deeper than any sexual relationship. He’s my shoulder to lean on, as I am his. We tell each other everything, talk until the wee-hours of the morning, laugh, joke, and never argue. He’s perfect, besides the pregnant woman living with him, and that’s why it’s so easy for me to stupidly await the outcome of us.
TWO
Thursday, November 1, 2008
VICTORIA
There was a knock on my office door and it smelled like trouble. These kids are crazy as hell, and at merely nine o’clock in the morning, they can’t want anything but to get on my gawd damn nerves.
Good Girls Ain't No Fun Boxed Set (The SIX romance and urban fiction volumes of the LOVE, SEX, LIES series) Page 4