Fool and Her Honey (9781622860791) (16 page)

When I got back from Celeste's house, after being hit with the shocking news that Candis was planning on marrying SeanMichael, and feeling confused about how to move forward-or not-with Bertrand, it was after ten, so to see Bertrand sitting on the front porch was unusual. His presence startled me initially, as I didn't expect his silhouette to appear in the dark. The porch light was off, and he just sat in silence, looking crazy in the face.

“Hey, babe,” I said, walking up onto the porch.

“Hey,” he said flatly.

“What are you doing out here? You scared me.”

“Just thinking.”

“Thinking about what? And why are you thinking out here in the dark?”

“Just needed some fresh air.”

“Oh, okay. So what are you thinking about?”

“A little bit of everything.” He kept his eyes focused forward, and his arms were folded across his chest.

“Like what?”

“Like why didn't you answer your phone when I called you?” His voice was low and even.

“Because I'd left it in the car to charge.” That wasn't wholly true. I had left it in the car to charge, but after thirty minutes, I'd retrieved it. When I saw I'd missed Bertrand's call three times, I didn't bother to return it, knowing that he was going to act like he was acting at the moment . . . nasty. I figured I'd rather deal with it once I got home than have it ruin the evening with my girls, but I did call him once I'd gotten in the car and started for home. It did no good because he hadn't answered.

“You left it in there the whole time?”

“Yes,” I lied. “I didn't need it while I was sitting in the house.”

“So what was I supposed to think?”

“What were you supposed to think about what?”

“About my wife being out late and not answering her phone,” he said, cutting his eyes at me.

I use to love it when he called me his wife but now I didn't want to hear it. It made me cringe inside. “You were supposed to think that I was at Celeste's house, like I told you. Why were you calling me, anyway? What was wrong?”

“I wanted to make sure nothing had happened to you, since you didn't call me and let me know you made it over there safely,” he snapped.

“Bertrand, if something had happened to me, someone would have called you. Me, the police, the paramedics, the hospital, my momma, Candis, Celeste, somebody!” I said, throwing my hands in the air.

“So you couldn't be considerate enough to call me and let me know everything was all right?”

“I didn't realize there were required checkpoints set up for me, like I'm some kind of teenager. I thought I was grown.” My tone was still calm, although I was becoming irritated.

“And you being grown does not negate the fact that you should be accountable to me. What are you going to do once we are married? As a married woman, why do you have a problem with letting your husband know where you are?”

“I told you where I was going two hours ago, when I left, Bertrand.”

“Yeah. That was two hours ago. Then you don't answer your phone, and that's supposed to be okay,” he said with sarcastic scorn.

“When I called you back, you didn't answer your phone, either, so it sounds like to me, the pot is calling the kettle black.”

“But I'm sitting at home. You were out in the streets.”

“So the rule is, if you are sitting at home, you don't have to answer your phone? Is that what you're saying?” He didn't answer, probably realizing how stupid that sounded. “This is crazy. I'm going in the house.” I pushed the front door open, leaving Bertrand sitting on the porch by himself, and headed to bed.

A full hour passed before he came back inside, fumbled around in the kitchen, from what I could hear, then came to the bedroom. My back was turned to him as I pretended to be asleep, but I listened as he showered, then got in bed beside me but made sure that our bodies didn't touch.

All this over a missed phone call?
Whatever,
I thought to myself and drifted off to sleep.

The next morning Bertrand woke me up by pressing his manhood into my backside and kissing my left shoulder.

“Babe, you up?” he whispered. When I didn't answer, although I'd heard and felt him, he pressed his hips forward and wrapped his arm around my waist. “Dina,” he called.

“I'm up,” I mumbled.

Bertrand knew that I hated to be awakened from my sleep for sex, and most of the time he respected my request that he not do that. The fact that he woke me up regardless of that meant he was really horny and would bug me until I gave in. I sighed because I just couldn't help it, then rolled over on my back to let him in. Bertrand wasted no time shifting his weight atop my frame and burying his face into my neck. After a few seconds of fumbling around, trying to get himself correctly positioned, he held his breath as he eased into my body, then exhaled a moan. Slowly, he rocked his hips, then settled into a smooth cadence that woke up my insides. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I pulled him closer to me and worked my hips upward to meet his stroke.

“Oh, baby,” he panted, speeding up his movements. “Girl, you feel amazing!” he gasped, tucking his head down to lap at my nipples, causing me to arch my back and caress his head, encouraging him to continue.

“Mmm,” I moaned into his ear as I stroked his back with my other hand. Even when I didn't feel like engaging, Bertrand always brought me to the point where I enjoyed it immensely, sleepy or not. On his way to the finish line, he bore into me with more aggression, gripping my shoulders and breathing heavily into my ear. “Yeah . . . that's it, baby,” I whispered. “That's it.”

Unable to hold back, Bertrand's body contracted as he released and exhaled several times in satisfaction. “I love you, baby,” he murmured, rising and falling against my chest and planting kisses on my right shoulder. “I love you, Dina.”

Hearing him whisper those words with such sincerity after we made love always brought tears to my eyes. Those words would remind me of all that was missing in my prior relationships, then erase the pain of those memories of not feeling loved or wanted. They always brought healing to some inner part of me that still remembered what it felt like to be rejected, stepped on, and played for a fool. His words humbled me, because I thought Bertrand meant every word, and my heart was overwhelmed by his love, and by the fact that he found me worthy to share his love with. It was during one of those whispered moments that I fell in love with Bertrand.

Now I lay there crying, because I couldn't believe that he'd betrayed me by sharing himself with someone else. While Bertrand felt amazing physically, emotionally I was in turmoil. I didn't know what to do. Forge ahead in forgiveness and believe that he honestly and truly loved me, or shut the door on this whole thing.

With Bertrand's weight still keeping me pinned to the mattress, I thought about what Celeste had said, and tried to weigh the pros and cons of staying with Bertrand and going through with our wedding plans. Maybe I was making too much of whatever had happened, and honestly, I couldn't prove anything. The panties could have been old. The texts could have meant nothing. And Bertrand did apologize for how he'd made me feel. I guess that had to count for something.

Then I thought about his controlling behaviors. They were irritating, but were they completely intolerable? He could definitely teach me a few things about managing my finances if I just humbled myself a little bit and followed his lead. We got along for the most part . . . well, as long as I played by his rules. They weren't really that bad, were they? Call to let him know I was okay, check with him before spending cash, try a little harder to meet his expectations. I mean, they weren't completely unreasonable. We could make this work. Celeste was right. No one was perfect, and I needed to recognize that I had a good man and embrace him, flaws and all.

“You're gonna mess around and make me marry you,” I whispered.

“I should hope so. You're wearing my ring.”

“Yeah, I am, aren't I?” I giggled. “So how about next month?” The time frame was random and off the top of my head, but I was ready to move forward before I changed my mind. After all, I was sleeping with the man, and had been living with him way longer than I'd expected to.

“Next month? What kind of wedding are you planning that can be put together that quickly?”

“I was thinking a destination wedding. Maybe Can-cún or Hawaii . . . or Paris!” I grinned.

“Paris would be nice. I've never been.” Braced on his elbows, he hovered over me, dropping down for a kiss after a few seconds. “We'll have to look at how much it would cost. If we can do it for less than ten grand, and if that's what you want, that's fine with me.” He kissed me once more, then lifted himself from my body, rolled to his side of the bed, and stood in a stretch. “We'll just have to do a reception for our friends and family when we get back to the States.”

His manhood was now deflated and hung limply in front of him, but he was still sexy, with all kinds of cuts and muscle definition in his chest, abs, and thighs.

“You might want to put that away,” I said, grinning, “before I jump out this bed and attack you.”

“After what you just did to me, I don't think you're going to get anything else out of this for at least an hour or two, but you're welcome to jump in the shower with me and try it out.”

He didn't have to invite me twice.

Thirty minutes later, we both were smiling from ear to ear, rushing around and bumping into each other in the bathroom, trying to get ready and be on time for work.

“You're amazing,” he complimented, licking, then biting down on his bottom lip and swatting my butt.

“That's you, babe.” Bertrand had me just about turned upside down in the shower and had me gasping for breath and reaching for the walls, as if they would offer something for me to hold on to. There was no doubt about it; I was going to have to marry this man.

Bertrand walked me out to my car, holding my coffee cup, like he did every morning. He opened my car door, let me get settled inside, then handed me my coffee. “All right, baby, have a great day,” he said, leaning in for a kiss.

“Ooh, I forgot my phone. Can you go get it for me real quick? I left it in the kitchen, right beside the coffeepot.”

“Sure.” While I waited for Bertrand to return, I pulled the car out of the driveway and shifted it into gear, ready to take off.

“I don't see it,” he yelled from the door to the curb.

“Did you look on the table?”

“It's not there, babe.” With his lips turned down, he shook his head.

“All right, I'll get it when I get home. I don't have time to look for it. Love you!”

“Love you too.” He waved as I pulled off.

At least I didn't have to worry about him blowing my phone up all day while I worked.

With a few camera tricks, special lighting and photo editing, I was able to make my ring look amazingly huge and brilliant, as if a hundred-watt light bulb was sitting on my finger. It took less than an hour to have a ton of Facebook ‘likes' and comments for the photo of my hand now dressed with an engagement ring.

The comments went on for the rest of the day, with me having to explain to several people that, yes, I'd been seeing someone, and, yes, he was from Baltimore. I avoided saying that he lived there and just stuck to the fact that he was from there. More and more, I was getting the question of why there was no picture of the two of us together.

“Because I've not posted any yet,” I answered. It wasn't a lie.

 

 

Dina and Celeste were taking me out that coming weekend to celebrate my engagement, although I knew they weren't completely comfortable with my decision. They were just going to have to learn to shut up, because I wasn't going for anyone down talking my man. He was my man, my sweetheart, my honey, whether they liked it or not. I could tell by the look on their faces and their patronizing congratulations that they were covering their true thoughts.

“Your ring is nice,” Dina had commented unconvincingly, while Celeste had kept her comments to herself. It was better that way.

“Thanks. It's not the one I wanted,” I'd felt obligated to explain, “but the ring doesn't make the marriage.” Dina had the Rock of Gibraltar on her finger, while Equanto had never presented Celeste with a ring, and both of them were unhappy in their relationships. Really, I thought Celeste was jealous, but just because her husband wouldn't do right by her wasn't motivation for me to let her rain on my parade.

I'd been in the studio, editing shots of photos, for the past two hours and was ready to go grab something for lunch when the front door chime alerted me that someone had walked in. My heart just about stopped beating when I saw it was Latrice Chambers with a crazy-looking, cheap front lace wig on and a not-so-pleasant look on her face.
Oh, snap!
She was dressed in a too-small pink T-shirt that barely stretched over her belly, a white broomstick skirt, and pink heels that were too high for her to walk in comfortably, judging from the way she wobbled toward me. Her pinkie toes hung over the sides and touched the floor, and had I not been terrified, I would have bust out laughing.

“My name is Latrice Chambers, and your ex-boyfriend Russell is my fiancé, and I want to know what the hell is going on between you and him,” she demanded, holding a Coach look-alike bag on her arm.

“Excuse me?” I answered.

“I want to know what is going on between you and Russell.” She hadn't raised her voice, but she stretched her eyes and twisted her neck so much, she looked like Woodsy Owl.

“There's been nothing between myself and Russell in a very long time,” I responded, easing behind my reception counter and inconspicuously pushing a panic button. Latrice wasn't dressed for a fight, but that didn't mean she didn't have intentions to kick her shoes off and throw blows, a weapon in her bag, or a posse of girls waiting just outside the door, ready to rush in at her command. I couldn't take any chances.

“That is not what he's telling me.”

Oh, God.
What had Russell said, and why hadn't he given me some kind of heads-up? Maybe he didn't know she was even here.

“Miss, I don't know you, but I assure you that there was never much of anything between myself and Russell, and I have no connections with him right now.”

“When is the last time you seen him?”

I couldn't stand in front of this woman and admit to her that Russell had been at my house only a couple of weeks ago, after coming to my birthday party. Had he told her about the earrings too? Thank goodness I didn't have them on today, although I'd worn them consistently since he'd given them to me. It just so happened that I'd taken them off to clean them and mistakenly left them on my dresser.

“I've not seen him in a long while,” I answered, which wasn't a lie. How long was a while? That could be thirty minutes if you were outside waiting for the city bus or fifty years ago.

“Hold up, 'cause I'm fin-na get to the bottom of this,” she said, digging through her purse and pulling out her cell phone. “I'm 'bout to call his lying ass right now.” She pushed a few buttons, then perched a hand on her hip.

Come on, Russell. Have my back.
If he ever felt an ounce of love for me, now was the time he could prove it.
Deny everything. Where are the damn cops!

“Hello,” I heard him say, even though she held the phone up to the side of her face.

“Russell!” she barked.

“What, Latrice?” I overheard.

“I'm standing right here in front of your ex-girlfriend, and I need for you to tell me what you said earlier.” She focused her eyes on me, letting them travel down my body, as if she were sizing me up.

“You where?” his muffled voice buzzed from her phone.

“Down here at this photography studio where she work at.”

“What the hell are you doing there, Latrice? You're always trying to start some drama!”

“I told you I was coming down here, 'cause I know your ass is lying,” she said into the phone.

“Latrice, get out that girl's shop.”

“Nope, not till I find out what's going on.”

“I already told you ain't nothing between me and her,” I heard him say, and for the first time I released a breath, although my fear was still very present. I was just glad to have not heard him say he was at my house the other week and that he'd given me a birthday gift.

“So why I done heard three times that you were all up in her house and whatnot?”

I couldn't imagine Dina sharing with Latrice that Russell had given me diamonds, and I hadn't told either one of them that he'd come over, so how did Latrice know all this? I let out a huge sigh when finally two police cruisers drove into the lot and slowed to a stop. They weren't moving fast enough for my taste, looking at the front of the building, all confused. Finally, they opened the door to the studio and glanced around, looking for danger, I was sure.

“Everything okay in here, ma'am?” the first officer asked, bouncing his eyes between me and Latrice.

“Hold on, Russell. Hold on. I know she didn't call the damn cops on me,” I heard her mumble under her breath as a look of panic crossed her face. “It ain't nothing going on, Officers,” she said to the policemen before I could say anything, but they looked at me to confirm her statement before they took her word.

I didn't just want to break crazy on the girl and have her carted off downtown, just in case she knew where I lived, since she seemed to know so much. I had to think quickly on my feet.

“There was a bit of commotion outside,” I began, “and I saw a bunch of guys running through here real wild and noisy. It was just myself and my client here in the store.” I glanced over at Latrice. “And since it was just us two females, I figured I'd rather us be safe than sorry,” I added.

Latrice looked down in her purse for a few seconds, which gave me a few seconds to signal one of the officers with my eyes that I was lying and was scared as hell of my so-called client. He acknowledged my response with a quick nod, cutting his eyes over to Latrice.

“I was hoping that you could see us both to our vehicles,” I said.

“Yes, ma'am. Are there any other entrances to your studio?”

“There's a back door, but it is securely locked,” I answered.

“Let me just take a look at it, if you don't mind.”

“Not at all.” While he traveled to the back and the other officer used his radio to communicate some codes to the dispatcher, I looked over at Latrice. “If you come in here again, I'm sending your ass to jail,” I snarled, barely moving my lips.

Latrice was escorted to her car first, while one of the officers got a clear story from me of what really happened.

“Ma'am, I would recommend that you keep your door locked and install a bell for your clients.”

“Yes, sir,” I answered.

As soon as I was safely in my car, I called SeanMichael.

“Babe, I need you to come on out here quick!” I rushed. Although I was no longer in danger, I was still nervous and a bit shaky.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

Right before I started, I contemplated if I should tell him about Russell giving me diamonds. That might not go over well; I didn't want to be accused of sneaking around with my ex. It was definitely as risky as Truth or Dare? I decide to go with the truth, starting with, “My ex-boyfriend's fiancée came to the studio today, asking me what was going on between him and me, and I had to call the cops.”

“Are you all right?” he asked.

I heard the tension in his voice. “Yeah, I am now. I'm going to be keeping that front door locked all the time now and just keeping a sign on the door telling people to knock.”

SeanMichael fell silent for a few seconds before speaking again.

“Why did she come up there?”

“I don't know, babe. I have no idea. I've only seen her a few times in the shop where Dina works. I've never even really spoken to her.”

“She had to have a reason to come up there. I mean, evidently you did something.”

“What do you mean, evidently I did something? How do you figure it was me? Why couldn't it be that Russell did something to provoke her coming up here?” I asked, offended at what felt like an accusation.

“Okay, then, what did Russell do?” he asked, his tone becoming more aggressive.

“I really don't know,” I answered, and really I didn't. I had no idea what Russell had said to Latrice to prompt her visit.

“I'm not calling you a liar, Candis, but I don't believe you.”

“What reason do I have to lie to you, SeanMichael?”

“I don't know. You tell me,” he ordered. “You're saying your ex's fiancée showed up at your place of business out of the clear blue sky, and you have no idea what made her do that. That just doesn't sound like the truth to me.”

“So you're calling me a liar,” I stated, but I meant it as a question.

“I am asking you to tell me the whole truth.”

“I told you I don't know what Russell did or said to his fiancée. I mean, Russell showed up to my birthday party, but I asked him to leave.”

SeanMichael didn't speak a word.

“Hello?”

“I'm here,” he answered in a growl. Then there was silence for another thirty seconds. “So your ex-boyfriend showed up at your birthday party, and you didn't even tell me.”

“It really wasn't a big deal.” I shrugged, although he couldn't see me.

“Who invited him, Candis?”

“I don't know,” I lied, not wanting to point the finger at my best friends, because I didn't want SeanMichael to form negative opinions about them.

“Now, do you honestly expect me to believe that?”

“Yes, because I don't have a reason to lie to you,” I repeated.

“You must think I'm a fool,” he retorted.

“Okay, well, you're going to believe whatever you want to believe. I told you I don't have a reason to lie. He showed up at my party uninvited and unannounced. When I saw him, I immediately asked him to leave.”

“Did he give you a gift?”

Damn! This was so not a good idea.

“No. Russell has never given me anything but a broken heart,” I lied, scared of what his reaction would be if I dared tell him Russell had given me diamond earrings that put his engagement ring to pure shame.

“He didn't give you anything?” SeanMichael asked a second time.

“I just told you no,” I said, trying to sound more convincing.

“So why are you just now telling me that you've been seeing him?”

“I haven't been seeing him,” I shot back in my defense.

“Y'all are partying together and whatnot. What do you call it?”

“I call it him trying to crash my party and getting kicked out.”

“Yeah, right.”

“What do you mean by that?” I snapped.

“I'm a million miles away, and I'm thinking you're there, being faithful to me. Then I find out your ex is coming around just whenever he feels like it, and you don't even tell me? You're making me not trust you.”

“What!” Immediately I was pissed. “Are you accusing me of cheating? I choose to tell you what was going on with me, and this is how you react? I didn't have to tell you a damn thing! I could have kept all of this to myself.”

“I would have found out some kind of way. What's done in the dark always come out in the light.”

“I haven't done anything and don't appreciate you accusing me.”

“And I don't appreciate you tiptoeing around with your ex-boyfriend. Did you screw him too?”

I gasped in shock, then started to cuss his ass out but got ahold of myself. “You know what, SeanMichael? I'm done talking to you. If you can't trust me, we don't need to be together. Bye.”