BFF's 2 (7 page)

“No, you shouldn't have, especially since you can't figure out why you have two open boxes of condoms. When you figure that out, maybe we can talk about moving in together.”

I cut my eyes at him and walked away.

“Not interested,” he said underneath his breath. “Silly shit, I swear.”

I turned around and put my hand on my hip. “Silly? Now I'm stupid and silly. Wow, Keith. It's great to know how you really feel.”

He laid the spatula on the stove then faced me. “You want to know how I really feel? I'll tell you how I feel. I feel as if, for some reason, you are holding back on this relationship. That makes me uneasy. You purposely came down here this morning to start an argument with me; that way you can go home and get some of the so-called space you need. I don't know what's preventing you from giving me your all, but maybe like Evelyn said the other night, you're still confused. If you are, just let me know. That way, I don't put my all into this relationship and wind up hurting myself again. Been there, done that before. Ain't trying to go there again, so your honesty about how you feel, as well as about how confused you may really be, would be much appreciated.”

Did he seriously just go there and bring up Evelyn? No, he didn't.
“I'm not holding back on anything. Just because I don't want to move in with you right now, it has nothing to do with me being confused. The problem is you not getting your way. You can't accept no, and that's all there is to it. I didn't purposely pick an argument with you. You're the one with condoms that aren't accounted for, so don't go turning this around like I don't have my head on straight. In addition to that, if you think Evelyn has a valid point, then why don't you call her up to chat? I'm sure you would like that, especially since you couldn't keep your eyes off of her the other night.”

Keith nodded and sucked his teeth. “Okay, I finally get it. That's what this is all about. You've been holding that shit in since the other night. I'm glad you got that off your chest, and just so you know, Trina, I can look all I want to. It's a good thing that you never know what I'm thinking, as I am doing right now while looking at you. Lastly, I can accept no, if you say it. Now that you've said it about moving in together, I accept it. Forget it and let's move the hell on.”

I wasn't sure how to take his comment, but more than anything, the thought of him thinking anything about Evelyn upset me. I rushed up to him, ready to smack some sense into him. But before I got within inches of him, he stepped back.

“Think before you act,” he said. “I don't fight women, and if you ever put your hands on me in an offensive way, this shit is over. If I want a ghetto girl, I'll go get one.”

“I'm sure if you want one with a pretty smile, you'll go get her too. I'm out of here, Keith. And save those rubbery pancakes and your condoms for the next woman you want to trick.”

Keith walked around me and went to the closet. He removed my jeans and T-shirt from inside, and then made his way to the door. After opening it, he made a gesture with his hand.

“Get your clothes on and go. There are plenty of men who may want to spend their time arguing with you and dealing with your insecurities. Unfortunately for you, I'm not the one.”

I continued to rant and change my clothes right at the door. And as soon as I stepped outside, Keith slammed the door behind me. It was a good thing that he'd shown his true colors before I decided to move in with him. I hurried to my car, thinking how badly he had screwed himself. I also wondered if I had done the same.

To be honest, things were getting a little bit rough around here. Now that I no longer had Cedric to depend on for money, everything was behind. I had been on two job interviews, but neither of them panned out for me. One only paid eight dollars an hour, and the other one was too far away. The manager who interviewed me had nothing but jealously in her eyes, so I suspected that she wouldn't offer me the job anyway.

When I returned home, there was a note from the rental office on my door. I was almost two months behind on rent. The landlord gave me until the end of the week to come up with at least one payment. Not to mention that my car payment, light bill, and personal property taxes were due. I was now driving around with improper plates, and it was just a matter of time before the police would pull me over and give me a ticket.

The only thing that I could do, for now, was gather up some of my expensive clothes and purses that Cedric had given me money to buy, and see if I could sell them to a consignment shop. There was one in Ladue. From what I'd heard, they paid a nice piece of change for brand name clothes and purses. I piled the items into my car and headed to the consignment shop to see what I could get. I had so many items bunched in my hand, and when I placed them on the counter, the lady behind it looked at me like I was crazy.

“How may I help you?” she said in a snobby tone.

“I want to see what I can get for these items.”

She lowered her glasses and winced at the items. “Are they real or knockoffs?”

I didn't want to insult this bitch, but she sure did insult me. Why would I even come here, if my items were knockoffs? I placed my hand on my hip, and rolled my neck around. “Where do you get off asking me if they're real? Do I look like I wear knockoffs? I think you'd better look again, because I only wear the real deal, sweetie. Thank you very much.”

The old, angry-looking white woman sorted through the items, laying them flat on the counter. She kept looking at the labels. When it came to the purses, she kept looking inside and feeling the leather.

“I'm not sure about this one,” she said, referring to my Michael Kors bag. I used the money Cedric had given me to purchase that one at Macy's.

“If you're not sure, then you need to question Macy's about selling counterfeit purses. I assure you that they're not getting their purses from Soho in New York.”

“Maybe not, but since I'm not sure about that one, I can't give you a quote on it. As for the other items, how much do you want for them?”

I was desperate for money, so I didn't want to get on this bitch's bad side and argue with her about the purse. Instead, I quoted her on what I thought the ten items were worth.

“How about five . . . no, six thousand dollars?”

Finally, the lady laughed and removed her glasses. “That's funny,” she said. “And now that you're done joking with me, how about telling me how much you really want for these items?”

I looked at her with a straight face. “I just told you how much I want, and since I'm not smiling, you know I'm not joking. In case you're not bright enough to know what these pieces are worth, please check the price tag on the one right there. I've never worn it, and it cost twelve hundred dollars. The others I may have worn once or twice and they cost the same, maybe even higher. I'm sure you already know how much the purses cost, and three of them should tally up to what I want. Got it?”

The woman was blunt. “What you want, you won't get here. Got it? This is a consignment shop, where our customers expect to pay a discount for brand name merchandise. The clothes are wrinkled, and I won't mention the stain I see on one of the dresses. Looks like the same stain Monica Lewinsky had on her dress, but I'm not one to assume anything. As for the purses, they are not in tiptop condition. The most I could give you for all of this is five hundred dollars. That's it.”

I couldn't hold back, especially not after the Monica Lewinsky comment. “Bitch, are you crazy? Five hundred dollars? I should jump over this counter and knock some sense into you. At that price, you shouldn't be working here. You apparently don't know the value of these items. And stain or not, you know darn well that this stuff is worth way more than that. I could go stand on a corner and sell these items for more than that.”

“Then I suggest you go do that because all I can offer you is five hundred dollars. Since you don't want to accept my offer, good-bye and thanks for stopping by.”

How dare this snobby heifer treat me like this? I snatched up my items and stormed out of there. I tossed the items on the back seat and slammed the door after I got inside. My mind was racing a mile a minute. I couldn't think of anywhere else to get some quick money, other than to rob a bank. I had to laugh at how desperate I'd become, and the thought of robbing a bank was a bit much.

I started my car and breezed my Mercedes with improper plates on it through traffic on Lindbergh Boulevard. Just as I was about to get on the highway, my cell phone rang. I looked to see who it was, and surprisingly, it was Trina. I hadn't spoken to her since the other night, but I had planned on calling her so I could get Bryson's number to call him.

“Hello, bestie,” I said in a joking manner. “It's good to know that I'm on your mind, or should I say your radar today.”

“I'm not going to say all of that, but I called so we could talk. Keith and I had an argument, and I wanted to ask if you thought I was wrong about something.”

This was interesting. Trina and Keith always seemed so chummy with each other. And while many couples had arguments, Keith didn't seem like the arguing type. As for Trina, that was a different story. She could be a real shit starter, if she wanted to be. I'd known that from experience.

“What happened? Tell me.”

Trina told me about the condoms and about him telling her to leave. I wanted to laugh my ass off. I envisioned his foot traveling deep in her ass when he kicked her out. Either way, I gave my input to my friend who seemed distraught about what had happened.

“First of all, you had every right to be mad,” I said. “I would have questioned those condoms too. At the end of the day, he needs to provide you with a legitimate explanation for the ones missing. He didn't have an answer; that's why he kicked you out and made you leave. He's hoping that you forget all about it, and that you'll miss him so much and come running back to him. If I were you, I wouldn't. I'd keep it moving and find someone else who has no problems with being honest.”

Trina sniffed then blew her nose. “I agree. He made me look like the bad person, and then had the nerve to say that I was stupid and silly. That hurt. I never thought Keith would speak to me like that.”

“I don't know why you thought he was so special. He's just like any other man, and to be honest, the last thing you need is another mentally abusive man in your life. The last one you had was both physically and mentally abusive, and you see where that got you. With that crazy bitch, Lexi. You definitely don't want to go there again.”

“No, I don't. I don't get why relationships are so hard, but maybe it's time for me to step back and chill for a while. I need to get myself together before I start dating again.”

“I agree. I feel the same way. I have so much going on right now that I can't even think straight. My bills are way behind, and I've been on four or five interviews. The job market sucks. I haven't found anything yet.”

“Eventually, you will. And if you need to borrow a couple of dollars, let me know. I could spare twenty or forty dollars, but that's it.”

I pursed my lips. What in the hell was I supposed to do with twenty or forty dollars? That was barely enough for me to get my nails and toes done.

“No, thanks, I'm good. At least until I get my unemployment check, so no worries. In the meantime, you need to chill and forget about Keith. I'm out and about right now, so if you want some company, let me know. I'll stop by to chat.”

“I'm leaving in a few to go to the studio and get some work done. Whenever I'm this upset, I like to paint. You'd be surprised by what I come up with, when I'm feeling down like this. Painting always makes me feel better.”

“Well, go do you. I'll call to check on you tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Evelyn. I really do appreciate it. I know we've had our ups and downs, but at least we can still have a decent conversation with each other.”

“You're right. I've known you since elementary school, and we've had way more ups than downs. You'll be okay. I'm sure that I will be too. By the way, have you heard from your attack dog, Kayla?”

“Don't say that about her. And no, I haven't heard from her. I've thought about calling her, but since I've been in touch with Jacoby, he says that she's doing okay. I'm giving her time to sort things out. She has a lot on her plate with Cedric. I assume that she doesn't want to be bothered.”

“We all have a lot going on, but you already know how Kayla is. Her problems are always bigger than everyone else, and we're supposed to stop what we're doing to see about her. I haven't talked to her since the incident at the grocery store. I guess she hasn't been in the mood for another one of her so-called conversations that consists of her slapping me.”

“No comment. I'm not touching that thing with you and Kayla. Maybe one day y'all will work it out.”

“I doubt it. It doesn't matter to me either way, but I'm going to let you get out of there and go to the studio. Have fun and remember what I said to you about Keith. A dog will be a dog, and sometimes, you have to let him bark and dig his own grave.”

Trina said good-bye. I hoped she had washed her hands of Keith, but I knew how my BFF's were. They didn't always want to walk away from relationships, even when they knew they should have.

I drove to my next destination, which was only five minutes away. That would be Keith's house. I hoped he was home.

I parked my car and strutted to the door. After ringing the doorbell, I waited for him to answer. Minutes later, I saw him coming down the stairs. He appeared upbeat and was dressed in a pair of white cargo shorts that were unzipped and hung low on his waist. They looked dynamite against his chocolate skin, but unfortunately for me, he had on a wife beater that covered up part of his chest. Still, the man was sexy as ever.
Trina had better get herself together
—
fast.
No man wanted to be involved with a woman who kept up a lot of foolishness. She whined too much, and he couldn't be happy about her appearance that didn't seem to be her priority. She never wore name brand anything. The least she could do was carry a name brand purse. Every real woman had at least one.

Keith swung the door open with a grin on his face. “What's up, Evelyn? Trina's not here. If you need to reach her, you may want to hit her up on her cell phone.”

“Oh, I know she's not here. She told me earlier about the brutal argument the two of you had. Since I was in the neighborhood, I wanted to stop by to see if I could convince you to give me your brother's telephone number? The other day, Trina didn't seem as though she wanted me to have it. I don't know what's been up with her attitude, and I don't appreciate her being all up in my business. She's been acting real funny lately. I think it may have something to do with . . . never mind. Forget it.”

As I predicted, Keith opened the door wider for me to come inside. He wanted to know what was really going on with Trina. I would happily fill him in.

“You don't have to stand out there. Come in.”

“Are you sure?” I said already stepping inside. “I mean, you weren't busy, were you?”

“I was upstairs in my studio, painting. Whenever I have a lot on my mind, it's usually what I do.”

Awww, they were like two peas in a pod. Trina had just said the same thing; they clearly had something in common.

“Your studio? You have a studio in here?”

“Yep. On the third level. Would you like to see it?”

See that and then some,
I thought. “Yes, I would. Trina told me what a great artist you are. I thought the two of you worked together; and didn't you meet her at that, uh, studio on Delmar?”

“Yes, I did. I haven't been there in a while, though, but I may stop by next week to attend an art show.”

I wanted to yawn. How boring. I focused on something other than his conversation, as he made his way up the stairs in front of me. His nail-gripping ass was right there, waiting on me to touch it. All I wanted to do was reach out and touch it, but Trina would kill me. I had a vision of his muscular body on top of mine, sweating while we fucked each other's brains out. I would put any amount of money on it that Trina didn't know how to utilize a man like this. Keeping him excited would be difficult for her. That was why he needed me.

By the time we made it to the third level, I was out of breath. I stood in the doorway, watching as Keith proudly showed me some of his paintings. There was no question that the man had talent. His studio had some of the most exquisite pieces of art I'd ever seen. I was in awe as I looked around the room. The smell of money was floating in the air and these pictures had to be worth a lot of money.

“Oh, my God,” I said, walking up to a colorful painted picture of Miles Davis. “This is so beautiful. A friend of mine would love this! Miles is his favorite jazz player. I have never seen anything like this before.”

“I sold the original to a museum in Atlanta. Unfortunately, that one there isn't for sale.”