The Art of Deceit

by Fabiola Joseph

I told her that once I was done, she could talk to Tasha about her hair. She said okay and left us alone.

  “I don’t like that bitch already.” Tasha’s and my feelings were mutual, and it made me laugh.

  “I can so understand your feelings,” I said.

  She finished my hair; then I left the house to do some shopping. Carl came with me, even though I had told him to keep his black ass at the house.

  * * *

  While at the store, I took a chance and asked Carl about him and Shamika.

  “I see that you’re getting close to our guest. How is that working for you?” I said.

  He tried to stay cool while answering my question, but I read him like a well-written chapter.

  “Why must you always think that something is going on? Can’t I just be nice to the girl?”

  “Oh, come on, Carl. You fucked me, and my man is your boss. So why even ask those questions?”

  A woman who was close to us stopped her shopping and looked at us. What we were saying was more important to her than the three-hundred-dollar shoes that she had in her hand.

  “Keep your voice down. All I’m saying is that she’s cool once you get to know her. Not everyone is as scandalous as you try to be,” he said, hoping that this would get me mad, but I let his words roll off my back.

  “Oh please. She’s just another low-class ghetto bitch who’s not above fucking you. Hell, I am, and I still ended up sleeping with you, so why can’t she? But, hey, do you. I was just asking. You don’t have to lie. Just tell me that you don’t want to answer me.”

  Carl shook his head at me. Hot, cold, cold, hot. That was how it always was with me, and it was driving him to the line he never wanted to cross, the line that lived between sanity and mental destruction.

  “You just can’t live if you’re not judging someone, can you? You don’t even know the girl that well, yet you think you’re better than her,” he snapped.

  “My, my, we sure are getting touchy about her, aren’t we? Did I hit a sensitive spot?”

  I was only joking, but he was getting mad for real.

  “You know what, Tangie? I thought Amira’s death would change you for the better, but it seems like nothing will ever change about you. You will always be that same evil bitch that fucked her man’s friend and employee.”

  Normally, his words would have sent me into a blind rage, but I wasn’t going to let him take me there.

  “Yeah, I am an evil bitch, an evil bitch that you love to fuck and, even worse, that evil bitch that you can’t help but to be in love with!” I answered before I gathered my things and headed for the dressing room.

  My words spun around in his head and didn’t stop until the truth that suffocated him slapped him in the face.

  “Are you okay?” I heard a voice ask once I was inside a cubicle in the dressing room.

  When I opened the cubicle’s swinging doors, I saw the same woman who had been eavesdropping on my conversation with Carl.

  “You were listening hard enough to know that I am not okay. So just go on with your shopping,” I said in a rude tone without a second thought.

  She looked like she wanted to curse me out, but she held back. “Look, I know that this is not my place, but I did hear the harsh words that were said—”

  I cut her off with a wave of my hand. “So why does it matter to you?”

  “Okay, it looks like you’re not in the mood to talk, so I’ll just come right out with it. I heard one of you say the name Amira, and I was wondering if you two were talking about the singer who just died.”

  “Lady, I don’t know who you are or what you want. You’re talking to the wrong person.”

  She reached into her purse, pulled out her card, and offered it to me. “My name is Evengeliza Moore. I work for Tell-All magazine. If you have any information on anyone famous, please give me a call. It could be worth a lot of money to you.”

  I took the card and put it in my purse without giving it another thought. On my way home, I stopped and picked up a copy of Tell-All. I needed to make sure that I saw her name in it. And, bam, there it was. Editor in chief.

  * * *

  I was carrying about five bags, and Carl had a few more, when we walked into the house.

  Shamika rolled her eyes when she saw us. “Damn, girl. Did you buy everything that they had in the store? I’m sure you don’t even need clothes, as packed as your closets are.”

  Shamika never knew when to keep her mouth shut. I looked over at Carl, who had been taking up for her, and he knew what the look I was giving him meant.

  “A woman can never have too much of anything, Shamika.” I paused. “I see that Tasha has your hair braided. Is she going to start putting in the hair now?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

  “Yeah, we’re about to start. She had a sample of this hair that looks like yours. I know yours is real and shit, but this one looks just as real,” she said as she held the sample out me. This bitch was about to pull a single white female on me.

  “Why would you want to get hair that looks like mine? My hair is real. That hair won’t look as natural.” I was trying to get her to change her mind because I didn’t need a twin.

  “I know it won’t look the same, but it will be close. And you ain’t got to be throwing your good hair in nobody’s face. We all can’t be a half-breed like you. Plus, I have always wanted the wet and wavy look.”

  It took everything that I had in me not to reach out and smack the taste out of her mouth. I was going to deal with her ass soon enough.

  * * *

  Tay’von called me two days later, and I told him about Shamika and the hair. He laughed when I told him that she had said that we should start telling people that we were sisters. After that, we made small talk, and I could tell from his voice that he was worried about me. I assured him that I was getting better, and he seemed happy about it. We said our “I love yous” and then hung up. It was not like I was lying. I was sure that after I met up with Carmello in the morning, I’d feel a hell of a lot better.

  The next morning I woke up and got dressed in a black pantsuit, a pastel green silk shirt, and my dark alligator stiletto ankle boots. I pulled my hair back and wore small studs in my ears. I loved the fact that I looked good in anything, from my slut wear to my smart clothes.

  When I got to Carmello’s office, I was told to go right in. As I crossed the threshold, I noticed that we were not alone. The three men turned around and saw me standing in the doorway. One of them asked Carmello if I was the singer whom he had been trying to sign. He told them no. The other man said that he should sign me, anyway. He said that every man would buy the CD if I was on the cover. I smiled and thanked them both. Carmello wrapped up the meeting he was having with them and walked them out of his office. He came back in, and we took a seat at his desk.

  “So, Tangie, would you like something to drink, or do you want to get down to the nitty-gritty?”

  “What do you think?” I asked.

  “Well, like I told you in my limo, in order for us to do this, I have got to have that tape. Have you talked to his girlfriend?”

  “No, not yet. I’m still trying to think of a way to bring it up. It’s not something that you tell someone every day.”

  “Come on, Tangie. I know what kind of woman you are. Hell, think about the plan that you have masterminded. I’m sure that you can think of a way to make her do it. She’s just another thirsty bitch. She will do anything to make sure her man stays paid.”

  “Yeah, I know, but I just keep thinking about Black. I keep thinking that maybe I can fuck her over without adding him into the mix.”

  “I told you that once you started this, you had to finish it. So stop trying to think of a new way. There is no way but the way we said we were going to do it. Step your game up and get me that fucking tape.”

  He was right. There was no turning back. I stood up and walked to the door.

  “Tay and Black will be home for a couple of days in two we
eks. I’ll have it for you then,” I said, then walked out.

  I left his office and drove home. The whole time I thought about what I had to get done. It was fucked up, but I had to suck it up. It was a dog-eat-dog world, and I had to eat first. While driving, I called Tay. I forced myself to sound really down. This was the only way that what I was about to do would work.

  “What’s going on, Tangie? Why do you sound so sad?”

  “I need you to come home, Tay. I am going out of my mind. I really miss you.”

  “Baby, it’s not that I don’t want to be home with you, but I am about to have some days off, and I know that they will be pissed if I just say, ‘Fuck the shows,’ and leave early. Can you wait a little while longer?”

  I was going to have to turn on the waterworks. I needed him to come home now, not later.

  “Oh, I see. The number one–selling rapper, who can do whatever he wants, can’t take off early to take care of his girl, who’s in need.” I made it sound like I was crying while never shedding a tear.

  “Come on, Tangie. You know that if I had a choice, I would be home with you all the time, but that’s just not how things work.”

  “Well, I am happy to know that I can count on you being there when I need you, Mr. Too Fine. Money over bitches, right?” I sang, repeating the words from one of his songs.

  “Look, I know that it’s fucked up that I can’t be there right now, but let’s not turn this into something that it’s not. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

  He was right. Maybe I was overdoing it. Plus, I really didn’t want him to remember this conversation once everything went down.

  “I’m sorry, Tay. You know how I get. I’ll see you when you get home.”

  “I am really sorry, Tangie, but I’ll make it up to you as soon as I get there. I love you, baby . . .”

  While he talked, I thought of another plan. Maybe this would work better.

  “Yeah, baby, I love you too. Call me when you can. Bye.”

  Right before I got home, I called Carmello and told him about my new plan. He was hesitant but said that it was even better than the first one, so we were set to go. When I walked into the house, I found Shamika sitting on the couch, with only her bra and panties on. She was acting like this was her house and I was the visitor.

  Who the fuck does that? I wondered. I would never sit around someone else’s house, half naked, unless I was fucking them, but again, I let it slide.

  “Where did you go so early in the morning?” she asked.

  “I am so happy that you’re up, because I have some good news. While I was at breakfast, I ran into an old friend of mine who works for that guy that we ran into while on the road. I think his name is Carmello, or something like that. Since I don’t really know him that well, I got his card so you can call him. He owns a record label, right?”

  Her face brightened up. I knew that she was thinking about Black getting a new deal. She jumped up and took the card out of my hand.

  “Do you think that he’s at his office now? Or should I wait a few days?”

  She was eating right out of my hand, and she didn’t even think twice about it. I knew that the saying was “You should never bite the hand that feeds you,” but I always said, “You should always watch the hand that feeds you. Your life swings from those fingertips. Poison is always best dealt when it’s served on the silver platter that the cook puts down in front of you.” In this case, you could call me the Iron Chef.

  “No, go ahead and call now. I would think the sooner you call, the better,” I replied.

  “Good looking out, girl,” she said as she walked over to me and hugged me. I fake hugged her back.

  As she pulled away, I noticed that she smelled just like me. Now, this was going way too far. It was almost scaring me.

  When I walked into the kitchen and got a Coke, I saw Carl sitting at the table. I didn’t say anything to him, but as always, he had something to say to me.

  “Hey, Tangie, I just wanted to say that I am sorry about what I said yesterday. I know that you’re still dealing with Amira’s death, and it’s not my place to say anything about that.”

  I took a sip of my drink, then spoke. “It is such a pity that you still don’t know your place after all the times that I have put you in it. But you better start staying in it if you like your job, because I won’t be putting up with too many more of your comments.”

  I left the kitchen and went up to my bedroom. When I passed one of the guest rooms, I could hear Shamika on the phone with Carmello. She was talking to him like she was talking to one of her ghetto friends. She didn’t care where or whom she was calling. She just didn’t know how to turn off her street talk. I went to my bedroom and left the door open. I knew that she would be coming in to tell me about the call she had just made. By the time I took off my shirt, she was walking through my bedroom door.

  “I just got off the phone with him. He told me to come to his office on Thursday. I’m gonna make sure to work my shit. I have got to get this deal for Black, no matter what. You wanna come with me?”

  “Yeah, I’ll go with you. What time do you have to be there?” I wasn’t going to pass on seeing her “work it.”

  “He told me to be there around one, so we can have lunch, then go see what he’s talking about.”

  “I hope that you’re able to get a backup deal for Black. You know that you and Black are like family now, and I don’t want to see y’all game get fucked up.” I walked over to her and put my arm around her while I lied to her face.

  “I’ll do anything to make sure I get this deal for Black. Shit, I may even try and get one for myself,” she joked.

  I stood there smiling as she thanked me. I was sealing her fate without her even knowing it. And I even managed to get a thank-you out of it. Boy, I was good.

  “Anytime, Shamika. Anytime.”

  * * *

  I woke up in the middle of the night, dripping with sweat from the dream I had had of Amira and me having sex. I couldn’t stop her from invading my thoughts when I was awake or asleep. And for the first time since her death, I felt like having sex.

  I slipped my hands under my covers and spread my legs. I was soaking wet. I closed my eyes and thought of the dream that I had just had. I rubbed my clit and moved my hips. I could see Amira’s face clearly. I could feel her slide her hands down my thighs and across my clit. I could feel her working me. I could see her lowering her head down to my pussy. Yes, I wanted it. I wanted to feel her smooth tongue fuck me. I wanted her to look up at me, wet lips and all, and tell me that she loved me. I wanted to hear her say that she loved me just one more time.

  But she wouldn’t, she couldn’t, and it made me stop moving my fingers. Damn, I couldn’t even masturbate without it being all about Amira. I need to nut, but the thought of her death was now too strong for me to do it myself. I got out of bed and slipped on my short gold silk robe. I was going to get off any way I could. Even if that meant going down to Carl’s room and force fucking him.

  I walked downstairs without turning on any lights. The last thing I wanted to do was wake Shamika. I opened my robe and slowly turned his doorknob. I started to walk in but stopped myself. Although Carl’s room was dimly lit, I still could see Shamika’s body on top of his. At first, I thought of walking in and kicking both of their asses, but that would just prove to Shamika that he and I had something going on. So I just stood there and watched them. She was riding the hell out of him, but the more I watched, the more I noticed the lack of emotion. They were having sex, and that was all there was to it. It was just a fuck to both of them. I pushed the door open a little more and sat on the floor silently. I put my back against the wall and spread my legs. I planted my feet on the floor and got ready to bust a nut.

  Carl flipped her over, and both their heads were now at the foot of the bed. He reached down and slid himself inside Shamika, and she let out a low moan. As he started to work her again, I played with my nipples and slid my other hand d
own to my clit. I could hear Shamika telling him to fuck her harder and faster. I fingered myself as I thought of Carl being inside me. Our eyes met, and he stopped moving. I didn’t. I was too close to cumming. He just lay on top of her without moving. His heart had to be pounding, because he knew that he had been caught, but I would deal with him at another time. I licked my lips as I thought of him eating my kitty. I could see in his eyes that he was thinking about it too. The thought of it was turning him on more than the pussy he was currently in. Carl later said thoughts of fucking me ran through his mind as he watched me touch myself.

  “Come on, Carl. Don’t stop. I know that this pussy is good to you. Come on, nigga. Don’t front on this,” Shamika protested.

  Carl started to move his hips again. He long stroked her while watching me. Shamika’s moans grew louder, while I had to suppress mine to hide my presence. I could feel myself about to cum. My hands were moving so fast that I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. I closed my eyes, and Carl had to know that I would explode any minute. He knew my body. He looked as if he wished that he could jump off Shamika and run and put his lips on my pussy and catch it. But he couldn’t, so he just thought of how soft and wet I looked. I loved the feel of me, and so did he. I opened my eyes and found Carl’s eyes still glued on me, but I was done. Yet again, I had used him, and it wouldn’t be the last time.

  I got up and started to leave, but Carl shook his head no. He wanted me to stay so that he could continue to look at me. I was already on his mind, but me being there made the sex that he was having with Shamika that much better. But I just smirked at him and stuck up my middle finger. I was the one doing the using, not him. I went up to bed and smiled to myself. My only regret was that I didn’t get a chance to wipe my cum-filled pussy up and down Carl’s face.

  * * *

  Thursday morning came fast. Shamika was up before me and came into my bedroom three times before I got out of bed. I was starting to rethink this whole “no drug” thing. I was missing my high mornings. Hell, I miss my high all day long, but even if I didn’t quit forever, I knew that I wouldn’t be doing any right now.