Dangerously In Love (16 page)

Piece by piece, she pulled the furniture away from the door, yanked open the drawers, and began tossing lingerie and other clothing into a duffle bag. Then she rushed into the hallway.

A trail of blood from the bathroom to the stairs stopped her cold. Her hand covered her mouth to suppress a gasp. She could hear Reed moaning downstairs and was afraid to investigate the extent of his injury.
Oh God, is he dying?

Finally, she mustered the courage to creep down the stairs. Reed was sitting in a chair holding a bloody towel to his forehead. Blood was everywhere—on his clothes, the chair, the carpet, the walls. But he was sitting up, so Dayna hoped the injury looked worse than it actually was. Ever so quietly, she inched past Reed and made her way to the front door. Just as her hand twisted the doorknob, she heard the blare of sirens.

Now she couldn’t make her great escape. She’d have to stick around and endure the embarrassment of telling the emergency crew that she’d bashed her husband in the head with a vase. She’d explain of course that she’d only meant to subdue him, not cause him to bleed all over the house. Being his wife, she’d probably be expected to ride along in the ambulance with Reed. Damn! Damn! Damn! Dropping her duffle bag in defeat, Dayna opened the door to face the most humiliating experience of her entire life.

But it turned out worse than she could have ever imagined. The emergency rescue team arrived with the
police!

Pointing a bloody finger at her, Reed shouted to the two police officers, “She tried to kill me; my own wife tried to kill me!”

“Can we get a statement, sir?” asked the male police officer.

“I’m bleeding to death. I need medical attention. She tried to kill me, what else do you need to know?”

The emergency team quickly rushed to Reed and began administering treatment to stop the bleeding.

“Sir, we’d appreciate a statement.”

“Can I give a statement?” Dayna asked. “He started this whole thing. He wouldn’t let me leave the bathroom—”

“She’s lying. I’ll give a statement,” Reed said, wincing in pain as he lifted his head. “I came home a little late and she just went off on me, screaming and cursing, and before I knew what was happening she hit me with a vase.”

“That’s a lie—” Dayna began to protest.

“Did you use physical force against your husband?” the female officer interjected.

“Yes, but—”

“Did you feel threatened for your safety, ma’am?” the male officer asked.

“Yes,” replied Dayna.

“I didn’t lay a hand on her and I didn’t threaten her,” Reed countered as the female officer began snapping pictures of his head wound.

“Where is the weapon your wife used, sir?”

“It’s upstairs in the bathroom…a vase,” Reed groaned as if in agony.

The female police officer ran up the stairs and collected the incriminating bloody vase.

The male officer directed his next question to Dayna. “Did your husband use physical force against you tonight, ma’am?”

“Well…he grabbed my chin,” Dayna said in a weak, embarrassed voice.

“I was rubbing her face, telling her I loved her,” Reed said. “Do you see any marks on her face?”

“Did you use physical force against your husband?”

“Yes, because—” Before she could utter another word, she was read her rights, cuffed, and carted off to jail.

“
B
aby, where’ve you been?” Malik asked over the phone. “I dropped by Lizzard’s and they said you didn’t work there anymore. What happened?”

Chanelle sucked her teeth. “You sure took your good ol’ time to check on me, so don’t even try to act like you give a damn. How you gonna let weeks pass by without a word and then call me like you haven’t done anything wrong?”

“My bad; I know I’m wrong, but I’ve been upstate,” Malik explained.

“You’ve been what?” She hoped he wasn’t insinuating that he’d been in jail because that was a lame excuse that all brothers used whenever they went MIA.

“You haven’t heard from me because I’ve been out of town.”

“Oh, you’ve been on an extended vacation?” Chanelle felt the heat of anger scorching her face as she imagined Malik chillin’ in Miami or some other glamorous location with his famous cousin while she ran around town looking for a job. “Well, that makes me feel better; thanks for sharing,” she said sarcastically. “While you were living the good life, I got fired from Lizzard’s.”

“Baby, I didn’t know. What happened? Why’d they fire you?”

“That jealous bitch, Lexi, lied on me and got me fired. But I shouldn’t have to tell you that after all this time. Why the hell do you think I was blowing up your cell phone? You heard my messages, didn’t you?”

“Naw, I never heard shit. I dropped my phone. Broke it. It took me a minute to get another one.”

“That’s no excuse. You knew I’d be trying to get in touch with you, so you should have called me. It’s mighty suspicious that you got ghost the entire time I was doing bad, and now that I’m all right, you suddenly appear. What do you have, some kind of tracking system that tells you when it’s safe to communicate with me?”

“Aw, baby. Don’t be like that. You know I would have helped you out. But I was doing bad myself.”

“Whatever. You call yourself my man, but obviously you’re not. So I suggest you forget my number and continue to do whatever you’ve been doing all this time.”

“Chanelle…baby…I wasn’t having it all sweet like you think. I’m not trying to live off my cousin for the rest of my life. I’ve been out of town hustling, trying to get mine.”

“Hustling what?”

“Rock.”

Chanelle almost choked. “You’re selling drugs?”

“Man, what else am I gonna do—work somewhere for minimum wage? There’s too much heat in Philly, every corner is hot, so me and my dawgs been going upstate, where the honkies live. That’s where the real money’s at.”

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. How can you go from working for your cousin to standing on a corner hustlin’?”

“It ain’t like that. We work outta houses—nice houses. You’d be shocked at how many white people smoke crack—”

“I don’t really care, Malik.”

“Well, like I was trying to tell you, I’m my own man and I’m tired of taking orders from my—”

Chanelle cut Malik off.. “You know what? I don’t care what you’re doing or why you’re doing it. All I know is you weren’t there for me when I needed you, so please forget my name, my number, and everything about me.” She slammed down the phone.

It rang a minute later. “Hello!” she hollered into the mouthpiece.

“Why’d you bang up on me? I wanted to ask you a question.”

Chanelle took a deep breath and waited.

“You have a major credit card, right?”

The nerve of this fool
. Chanelle was speechless. She made small indignant utterances, but was so deeply offended she could not find words to express her outrage.

“I need a rental car to handle my business. I’ve been taking the bus back and forth, but if you let me use your credit card, I won’t have to sit out there in Williamsport for three or four days in a row. If I had a whip, I could can jet back and forth to Philly a couple times a week and spend some quality time with you.”

Chanelle grimaced. Without his Stone Allen connection, Malik’s value had plummeted. She had no use for him.

“So, whassup? You gonna let me use your credit card or what?”

“No.”

“Aw, that’s corny, Chanelle. Come on…hook me up with a wheel—a Magnum. They got a good deal at Avis. You can rent a Magnum for a week for just a buck-fifty.”

Chanelle couldn’t believe her ears. Throughout the entire affair, she’d been merely stringing Malik along; she’d always thought that he adored her to the point of worship. But now this…this nonchalant attitude regarding his disappearing act and his request that she risk her credit rating, not that she had one, but if she did, she wouldn’t risk it on him. He’d already proven himself to be unreliable and that was evidence that he wasn’t really feeling her either.

Malik had been using her, she realized. She’d been nothing more than a sex partner and eye candy, she presumed. It was a crushing blow to her ego and for a brief moment she felt off-kilter. Then she became angry. “Are you retarded?” she hissed. “I’m not letting your dumb ass use my credit card. And listen, if you call here again, I’m gonna report it as a nuisance call.” She quickly stabbed the button that would give Malik the dial tone.

Forget that fool
, she told herself. She had other pressing business to attend to. Three days had passed and Hershey hadn’t paid her for her date with Barry. It irked her that Hershey hadn’t dropped off the money as she’d promised and it pissed her off even more that every time she called, she got Hershey’s voice mail. If she’d known she was going to have to chase her down for her money, she wouldn’t have agreed to work for her.

Feeling peeved, she picked up the phone and jabbed Hershey’s number.

Surprisingly, Hershey picked up on the second ring. “Hey, whassup, Chanelle?” There was a lot of background noise. She could hear the happy high-pitched squeals and laughter of children. It sounded like Hershey was outside at a playground or somewhere with a million kids. How odd. She didn’t get the impression that Hershey had children; she didn’t seem like the motherly type.

“Um, I was calling to see if you had the money yet.” Damn, she hated having to ask for her money; she felt like she was begging. If she continued to work for her, Hershey was going to have to come up with a better pay system.

“I can’t believe you’re sweatin’ me over that little bit of cash,” Hershey said with a chuckle. “Do you think I’m gonna skip town on you or somethin’?”

“That’s not the point, I worked and I expect to get paid.”

“And I told you it takes a couple of days for a check to clear. I just got your money today, Chanelle. I was planning to call you and let you know I’d drop it off sometime today, but I got tied up. I’m at the zoo.”

“The zoo!” Chanelle repeated with raised brows. It was hard to imagine a diva trekking around at the zoo.

“Yes, the zoo. My godchild loves animals and I try to make sure she does all the fun stuff a little kid likes to do. Feel me?”

She wasn’t feeling Hershey at all. She just wanted her money. What Chanelle could
feel
were the muscles in her face as they began to tighten. Hershey was really working her nerves. “So, how long are you gonna be at the zoo?”

Hershey sighed. “Another hour or so. I have your address somewhere, but give it to me again.”

“It’s 4814 Florence Avenue. It’s a small street—between Baltimore and Warrington Avenue.”

“Okay, see you soon,” Hershey said and hung up.

Soon? How long was soon?
To pass the time, Chanelle slid Beyonce’s CD in her player and skipped forward to “Dangerously in Love” and put it on repeat. It was an old song, but it had been Chanelle’s theme song at Lizzard’s and was still one of her all-time favorites. As she listened to Beyonce pour her heart out to Jay-Z, she felt a pang of envy. Would she ever find that kind of love? Being that her primary goal was to find a rich husband, she doubted if she’d ever find someone to truly love.

Latching onto a rich husband and loving him as well was probably too much to ask for. It would be foolish to expect life to deliver such a delicious double treat. “But it sure would be nice,” she whispered aloud and then gave a wistful sigh.

Chanelle peered through her mini blinds when she heard the honk of a car horn. Hershey was sitting in her ride in front of Chanelle’s front door.
It’s about time
, Chanelle muttered to herself, then rushed outside to collect her cash.

She approached the car and was caught off-guard by the pretty little brown-skinned girl who was strapped in a car seat in the back. Chanelle gushed, “She’s adorable.”

“Thanks. That’s my godchild, Markeeta.” Hershey beamed with pride.

“Hi, Markeeta. How old are you?” Chanelle asked the pretty little girl.

Smiling bashfully, Markeeta held up three fingers.

“Don’t do that, Keeta. Tell her how old you are,” Hershey instructed, looking back at her godchild.

“I’m three and a half years old,” the little girl said.

“Aw, aren’t you the cutest,” Chanelle exclaimed. “If I ever have a daughter, I hope she’s as pretty as you, Markeeta.”

“You better hope she’s as smart as Markeeta. My girl is smart as a whip,” said Hershey as she counted out five one-hundred-dollar bills. She handed the money to Chanelle, and then spoke in a whisper, “Fuck being pretty, I keep Markeeta focused on being smart. Feel me? Because between you and me…girl, we both know that the only thing pretty does is get you fucked.”

Chanelle was taken aback by Hershey’s comment. Stung by it. “That’s your opinion; I’m not sure I agree with it.”

“You don’t have to. But that’s the way I choose to raise Markeeta. I don’t want her to end up having to rely on her looks to make a living.”

Chanelle pondered Hershey’s comment and decided it felt like a personal insult. “You’re making it sound like being pretty is a curse or something.”

“It is a curse if that’s all you got.” Hershey glanced into the rearview mirror. Markeeta had fallen asleep. “My baby is zonked out,” Hershey commented. “Too much zoo activity, I guess. Oh Lord, I hope she don’t think she’s gonna sleep all day and stay up all night,” she said, laughing.

“Does she live with you?”

“Uh-huh. I’m raising her. Me and her mom grew up together.” Hershey lowered her voice. “Her mother’s sick; I’m taking care of Markeeta until she gets better.” A look of pain crossed Hershey’s face; she cast her eyes downward briefly and then, as if she’d shaken off a bad memory, she raised her face and said brightly, “Listen, I think I have a nice hook-up for you tonight.” Then her tone became stern. “But let me get something straight, Chanelle…you can’t be hounding me for your pay. I told you that I pay my girls anywhere from two to three days after the date. What kind of sense would it make for me to burn you? I’m a businesswoman, not a scam artist. Stealing from one of my employees would be bad business.”

“I never accused you of stealing—”

“You didn’t have to. Besides, why were you acting so pressed? I know Barry tipped you well.”

“How do you know about that?”

“Oh, not much escapes me. Trust me. You’d have to get up pretty early in the morning to get one over on me. I know exactly how much cash you got from
my
client and I didn’t say a word to you about my cut, did I?”

Looking contrite, Chanelle shook her head, but she was rather perplexed as to why Hershey felt entitled to
her
tip.

“All right, so give me the same respect.”

Chanelle nodded.

“Barry’s a trip with his cross-dressing self, ain’t he?” Hershey said, lightening up the mood. “I want to warn you in advance…if you accept the date I’ve lined up tonight, you gotta be prepared to get your cherry popped. This client’s not trying to wine and dine you. He’s expecting to get laid. Still interested?”

Chanelle scrunched up her face as she contemplated the situation.
I pretended to be Malik’s girl and had sex with him just to hang out with members of the NBA. So hell, why not do it for cash?

“Yeah, I’m interested,” she finally said.

“Good, I’ll call you with the details later on tonight,” Hershey said and started the engine. “By the way, the client you’re seeing tonight is filthy rich; I like doing business with him, so don’t fuck this up by having cold feet at the last minute.”