Wives, Fiancées, and Side-Chicks of Hotlanta

by Shereé Whitfield

  “Desperate times call for desperate measures, huh?” Sasha said.

  “I won’t say all that. A brotha wasn’t desperate.” He looked Sasha in her eyes. “Just determined. And forgive me for sounding corny, but the fact is that I saw you even before I ever knew you were Casey’s friend.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You can’t tell me we weren’t meant to be.”

  Sasha blushed, eating up Terrance’s words just as quickly as he could serve them.

  “When I met you, it was a sign from God that it was time for me to stop messing around and give up the life of just random women with no one woman to call my own. A man can have all the women out there in the world, but there is something about having that one to come home to. And I don’t just want a chick to come home to, I need someone who is about something. I’m not asking you to marry me. Do I feel in my spirit that you are going to be my wife? Yes. But I figured if I showed up with an engagement ring instead of a leather couch, you’d really think I was nuts. But please don’t think I’m some sicko when I say this. I know you’re my wife, the mother of my children. I know it a little sooner than you. I just need you to know that. But don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll catch up with me eventually.”

  Sasha couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this sentimental. Her eyes were becoming moist. She blinked her tears away. She could not let this man think she was putty in his hands. “So you really expect me to just give up my place, give up everything, and come stay with you so that the minute you decide to move on to the next chick, I’m left out in the cold?”

  “I’d never do you like that,” Terrance said, heartfelt. “We can even keep this place. Keep all your stuff here. You moving in with me can be like on a trial basis. It could be like you’re spending the night . . . a lot.” He chuckled.

  Sasha shook her head. “Terrance, I don’t know. This isn’t what I came to Atlanta for.” Sasha got up off the couch. “I came here to start a new life, to start my own business, to live out my dreams, to—”

  “Isn’t finding love part of your dreams?” Terrance asked. “Isn’t that part of everybody’s dreams?” He didn’t wait for Sasha to answer. “So let me at least make that part of your dream come true.” He stood up and pulled Sasha to him. “Let me make all your dreams come true.” He kissed Sasha on the lips. “They say the things that happen that you don’t plan are the best things in life. I didn’t plan on meeting you and falling this hard for you, but yet it feels like the best thing that has ever happened in my life.”

  Sasha melted in his arms pretty much just like she always did whenever he touched her, whenever he looked at her.

  “Just think about it,” Terrance said after pulling away. “For now, though, at least happily and without reservations accept the furniture as a gift. Okay?”

  Sasha could do that much. She nodded. “Okay.”

  Terrance kissed her on the forehead. “I’m going to head on home. I got training early in the morning.”

  Sasha nodded. She was drowning in her emotions. She didn’t know whether to be happy, scared, confused, or flattered. If she didn’t know any better, she would say was experiencing all of those emotions at once. The boys she went to school with back home and dated just didn’t do things like this. They weren’t even certain if they wanted to put on new underwear each day, let alone spend the rest of their days with someone. But maybe that was the difference between them and Terrance; they were boys and Terrance was a man. Perhaps Sasha shouldn’t see this as strange at all, but as how a real man with class and coins handles his business.

  Why should Sasha look at his actions as weird or too soon? Like her, Terrance knew what he wanted and had a plan, and it wasn’t a five-year plan like the average person’s. Geesh, it wasn’t even a one-year plan like hers. Could it be that Sasha had met a man who could keep up with her, if not surpass her? Not one she’d have to wait around on to make up his mind? It truly was time that Sasha looked at the glass as half full.

  “Let me at least make you something to eat before you go,” Sasha said to Terrance.

  “I ate right before I got here.” He rubbed his stomach. “But thank you anyway.”

  Terrance kissed Sasha good-bye and then left. Once he was gone, Sasha looked at her beautiful new furniture. It was all hers, free and clear. She raced over and plopped down on the couch, looking up at the ceiling with a huge grin on her face. But then her grin soon faded as she thought about something someone had once told her.

  “Nothing in life is ever free. There’s always someone else who has paid the price or someone who will eventually pay the price.”

  Chapter 16

  “Thank you for meeting with me today,” Sasha said once Paris was seated nice and comfortably in her chair at the outdoor patio of the restaurant.

  This time it was Paris who had arrived last. This time it was Sasha who had, via text, invited Paris to join her for brunch. And this time Casey was present as well. And even though Casey was there to run interference just in case anything did jump off, Sasha had settled on dining outside versus indoors. She’d rather they tussle outside on the ground than tear up the inside of the restaurant and owe the owner repair costs. But Sasha definitely didn’t expect any such ghetto nonsense to go down. Even if Paris wasn’t, she herself was mature enough to communicate using her mouth and not her fists, although that was kinda sorta what caused things to somewhat escalate the last go-round: her mouth. But life was going wayyyyy too well for Sasha to be risking a case. Besides. She was on cloud nine and she’d be damned if she’d let Paris’s size eleven shoe kick her off of it. In addition to that, maybe two weeks ago her catching a case and landing an Instagram mugshot might have gone unnoticed, but she wasn’t so sure that would be the case now with folks starting to link her with NBA star Terrance McKinley.

  “So you said you wanted to talk,” Paris said stubbornly, already in defense mode. “Then talk.” She was staring straight ahead at Sasha. She hadn’t even looked at Casey since arriving and giving her their standard initial hug, once-over, and compliment.

  Needless to say, Sasha did not receive that same greeting. She didn’t even get a “Hey.” But that was okay. If things went Sasha’s way, all would end well between her and Paris soon enough. They could still kick it with Casey and be cordial around each other, or they would go their separate ways with no hard feelings. Either way Sasha was good. She had far too many other things of importance going on that had transpired in the last two weeks.

  Sasha wasn’t too keen on being given orders by anyone other than her boss at work, but once again, putting all things aside and trying to stay positive and upbeat, she obliged Paris’s request.

  “I’m really sorry about how things went down between us,” Sasha started before the tension could thicken and things could get worse before they got better. “I was wrong to put your child in it. If you and I have something going on between us, then that’s where it should stay. Children are off limits.”

  Paris began shaking the foot of her crossed leg. “See, that’s the thing, Sasha, I didn’t even know there was something between us. I liked you. I thought you were real. Thought you were cool people. The time before last when we were together, we were shopping in the mall, hee-hee and hee-hawing it up over smoothies. Next thing I know, my girl”—she pointed to Casey—“telling me you said this and you said that about me being a mother.”

  Sasha looked over to Casey, who in turn was staring straight at Paris as if refusing to acknowledge her stare. Watching how Casey was trying to play it off and avoid her part in starting all this mess in the first place hit a nerve with Sasha, but she stayed focused on the situation at hand. She was not going to move backward, so she allowed Paris to continue without addressing Casey at all.

  “How hard would it have been for you to say, ‘Girl, what? I’ve never seen you with him, heard you say a word about him,’” Paris said. “Then we could have taken it from there. But no, you go saying it behind my back to Casey. So maybe you didn’
t say it the way I took it and felt. But can you blame me? I’m thinking you could have just as easily said it to me, so the fact that you didn’t had my mind conjuring all kinds of stuff up. You see what I’m saying, Sasha?” Paris said, leaning in.

  The way Paris was saying her name made Sasha feel as though she was being spoken to like a child. It made her feel as though she was being talked down to and belittled. But the same way she wanted Paris to come up out of her feelings, she wasn’t about to go into hers, so she brushed it off, straightened her shoulders, and pulled her big-girl panties up. After all, that’s what she’d seen Casey and Paris do many times. Perhaps Sasha was learning the ATL way of communicating—or not communicating—more quickly than she thought she could be taught. Even if it was shade (be it intentional or unintentional) coming out of a person’s mouth, put on a sweater to get rid of the chill, or go find your own shine in the sun.

  Sasha crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes, I see exactly what you’re saying, Paris,” Sasha said, exaggerating Paris’s name the same way Paris had exaggerated hers. Okay, so sometimes it was even okay to pop up a parasol and create some shade of her own. “Next time, in order to eliminate any misunderstandings or confusions, I won’t suppress any thoughts.” She looked to Casey. “With either of you.”

  “Good,” Paris said, “’Cause you best believe I won’t suppress mine. Open communication is the only way. That way can’t nobody go back and say anything you’ve said to somebody else because they would have already heard it and therefore nobody will get upset.”

  Casey and Sasha looked to Paris with tilted heads and question marks in their eyes.

  “Girl, what the hell did you just say?” Casey said, then she and Sasha burst out laughing.

  “Forget y’all,” Paris said, shooing the girls before joining in on the laughter. “Anyway, y’all know what the hell I was trying to say.”

  “I don’t know, girl,” Sasha said, shaking her head. “On second thought, maybe you might not want to say everything that comes to your mind. That might make things worse!”

  The women chuckled as the waiter came over and took their food orders. As soon as the waiter left, Casey dived right into the conversation she’d actually been wanting to have with Sasha.

  “So, now that we are all back on good terms, let’s do some girlfriend talk.” She looked to Sasha. Paris followed Casey’s lead and looked to Sasha as well.

  Sasha was taking a sip from her Coke. Back home she’d been a die-hard Pepsi fan, but one soon learns that you can’t move to Atlanta and not become a Coke fanatic; not with the Coca Cola factory being one of the most popular tourist attractions in the city.

  “What? Why y’all looking at me?” Sasha asked after pushing her Coke to the side.

  Paris shrugged. “I don’t know. Casey was just looking at you like she got some tea, so I’m looking to you to spill it.”

  “Well, I have some Coke,” Sasha said, pulling her glass back to her, “but no tea today, ladies.” She fluttered her eyelids as she took another sip of her soda. “Sorry.”

  “Well, sorry,” Casey mocked, taking a sip from her vodka and cranberry with a splash of Sprite. “But I heard otherwise,” she sang as she took another sip of her drink and allowed her eyeballs to dart this way and that.

  Sasha sat back and crossed her legs. “And just exactly what did you hear?”

  Casey took her time sipping her drink, wiped her mouth, pushed her drink to the side and then looked to Sasha. “That you’ve been spending quite a bit of time with Terrance.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Paris said, rolling her eyes as if she was expecting a much juicier piece of fruit. “I think I did read on a blog that Atlanta’s golden boy has got a boo.” She didn’t sound impressed.

  “Not just that,” Casey clarified, her tone the complete opposite of Paris’s. She sounded excited and ready to get in Sasha’s business. “But I hear there’s more. That she’s been laying her head quite a few nights at Terrance’s place.” She shrugged. “It’s like you’ve practically moved in.” She sipped her drink again.

  Sasha tried her best to control her facial expressions as both Casey and Paris tried their best to read her facial expressions. She didn’t want to give away the truth one way or the other. Not yet. She wanted to do a little reading of her own first.

  “First of all, just who are you getting your information from?” Sasha asked Casey.

  “The streets are talking,” Casey said.

  “Bullshit,” Paris jumped in. “Them niggas is talking, that’s whose talking. Men are worse than women. All they do is run their mouths.” Paris looked to Casey. “Wasn’t we having a similar conversation not too long ago in the mall where Terrance was telling Eric stuff and then Eric was coming back to you and then you were telling Sasha?” Paris sucked her teeth. “Talk about some he-said, she-said.” Paris looked to Sasha.

  “So just put it together. Your boy is putting your business in the streets.”

  If Sasha had been allergic to bees, that sting would have done her in. Now her facial expression, the aftermath of being stung, she couldn’t manage to hide.

  Casey jumped in to pull the stinger out and rub a little alcohol on it. “He’s not putting your business on the streets. He’s just rapping with his bestie is all.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Paris said, rolling her eyes. “Then maybe Eric is spreading some things around. Or at least he be spreading something around.” Paris raised an eyebrow at Casey.

  “Seriously,” Casey said to Sasha before giving Paris the look, telling her to chill out. “The same way I’m sure you and Terrance have pillow talk, so do Eric and I. We are husband and wife. We are one. My boo tells me everything.”

  “Well, hell, does that make him Terrance’s boo, too, since Terrance is telling his ass everything?” Paris said.

  Sasha sat there and watched the back-and-forth game of Ping-Pong between Casey and Paris until the waiter brought their food. After so long, Sasha jumped in. “Look, ladies, never mind about those insignificant details about who is telling who what.” She looked to Casey. “What I want to know is exactly what was said.”

  Sasha would have liked to have been the one to tell her girlfriends about her almost moving in with Terrance. Yes, most of her clothing and personal belongings were now at Terrance’s home, but per his suggestion, she had not given up her place.

  “Well, you know I’m just a temp at a law firm,” Sasha had said to Terrance when she’d finally decided to move in with him, two days after he’d proposed it. “I can’t afford to pay my rent at my place and chip in at yours.” She did not want to come across as some bum bitch just laying up at Terrance’s place.

  Terrance had laughed so hard that tears formed in his eyes. Once his laughter subsided, he said, “Woman, I wish I might have you chipping in on the roof I keep over my head. What kind of man do you take me for? I’m old school. I’m a provider. Even though my mother has her own business, my pops still pays all the bills. That’s how his pops taught him things were supposed to be done in the home. He passed it on to me, and I’ll pass it on to my son as well if I ever have one. If not, I’ll pass it on to my daughter that she better not think about getting with a man who makes her pay for the roof over his head.”

  Sasha both respected and appreciated Terrance’s way of thinking. So it was decided she would stay at Terrance’s place rent-free and continue paying out her lease agreement on her own apartment. But just yesterday when Sasha went to her rental office to pay this month’s rent, she was informed that her lease had been paid up. As if that alone hadn’t been a shocker, when Sasha asked the manager when it had been paid up, she was even more shocked to learn that it had just happened to have been the same day her new leather furniture was delivered. Not only had Terrance paid the manager a thousand dollars to let him into her place, but he’d paid off the remaining months of her lease agreement. Terrance was definitely a man with a plan, but perhaps Sasha shouldn’t be so quick to assume that his plan lined up
with hers.

  “Whether you moved into my place or not,” Terrance had said to Sasha when she confronted him about her findings, “I still wanted to pay your rent for you.”

  When Sasha was torn about how to feel about Terrance doing something so drastic for her, he had to remind her that she wasn’t dealing with some okey-doke dude. She was dealing with a man who had been raised to treat women like the queens they were, so she’d have to get used to it.

  Sasha made up her mind that she’d get used to it all right. And not only that, but she deserved it. Why let the next chick get blessings that were meant for her? But even though Sasha had reasoned and justified everything in her mind, that didn’t necessarily mean the rest of the world would see things the same way. The rest of the world, being Casey and Paris, of course, might look at things totally different.

  “Not too much was said,” Casey told Sasha. “Eric just said that every time he’s talked to Terrance this past week, you were there. Not to mention that anytime I call or text you, you’re ‘not home right now.’” Casey used her fingers to make quotation marks, because those had been Sasha’s exact words to Casey every time she asked her where she was.

  Paris squinted her eyes. “Why you acting all funny?” Paris used her long acrylic nail to point at Sasha. “It’s like you trying to get everything out of Casey about what she knows in order to see if you need to tell her something she doesn’t know.”