I Saw Your Profile (4 page)

    
“I’m
fine, Janelle. How are you?”

    
“Oh,
please. Why waste time with small talk. You don’t give a damn how I’m doing.
You just want to know what I told the police.”

    
“What
did
you tell them, Janelle?”

    
“The
truth, Arianna. I told them the truth. That you were at the murder scene and
you were angry enough to kill him.”

    
“There
was no murder scene, Janelle. This isn’t TV. This is my life. Why are you
lying? I was mad, yes. And not just for me. For you, for Nicole, for
everybody.
 
And I wanted to get back
at him, but I didn’t mean for him to die.”

    
“But
he did die. And I’m not the one you need to convince.
     
Tell it to the
cops.”

    
Janelle
hung up.

    
“You
fucking bitch!” Arianna yelled.

    
Arianna
spoke Nicole’s name into the receiver.

    
“Hey
lady, it’s Ari. What’s up?”

    
“Hey
yourself. Nothing much. I’m getting ready to take Jay to basketball practice.
How are you?”

    
“Not
good. Your friend sicced LAPD on me.”

    
“What!
You’re kidding. I thought she was just talking stupid. I didn’t think she was
serious.”

    
“Neither
did I, but apparently she was.”

    
“What
are you going to do?”

    
“I
have no choice but to talk to them, eventually. I bought a new hard drive today
and I’m going to get rid of the old one. I suggest you do the same.”

    
“Why?”

    
“Girl,
why do you think? You probably have more shit on your computer than anybody
else involved in this mess. And right now, it’s all evidence. Don’t think for a
minute that bitch didn’t give your name to the police.”

    
“But
I didn’t do anything. If it’s evidence, it’s evidence of the dirt he was
doing.”

    
“Yeah,
but it’s also evidence that we found out about his dirt and we wanted to make
him pay for it. Just do it, Nicole.”

    
“You
mean
you
wanted to make him pay. I’ve got a lot of important stuff on my
computer. Work stuff.”

    
“Okay,
so it’s evidence against me. Can you help me out then? Back up your hard drive.
Print the stuff out. Copy it to CD or floppy. Then get rid of it.”

    
“I’ll
think about it and call you later.”

    
Arianna
made a U-turn. She decided to make a stop at the liquor store before going
home. She bought a bottle of top shelf tequila and a lemon.

    
The
phone was ringing as Arianna unlocked her front door. She ignored it and told
the kids to do the same. She threw the bags on the couch and went to the
kitchen. She made dinner, helped Akilah with her homework, and sent her to the
shower. They had their nightly mother-daughter ritual of a bedtime story and
prayers before she tucked Akilah in.

    
Amir
was his usual anti-social self, locked in his room where his CD player,
telephone, computer, and video games were all the company he needed.

    
It
was time for that drink.

    
She
cut the lemon into slices and put them in a small bowl. A shot glass and
saltshaker completed her supplies.

“Lick it. Sip it. Suck it.”
 

    
Three
shots later and she was ready. First, she printed the emails, then copied and
pasted them into word processing files. She burned them and the rest of her
files onto a CD. She got a Phillips screwdriver and removed the back of the
computer tower, installed the new hard drive and copied the programs from the
old one onto it.

    
She
used a hammer to beat the life out of the old hard drive. Anyone who found it
would be unable to hook it to a computer. The old hard drive found a new home
at the bottom of a trashcan.

    
The
printouts were divided into two stacks on the living room floor; work and
personal. The work files were stuffed into a manila folder. She sat with the
personal ones, sorting them by category and date.

 
    
They went back a year
to when she first moved to Philadelphia and bought the new computer. She read
the emails and recalled her first lonely months in the city. The ones that
prompted her to join LoveMeBlack.com and put her on the path to meet Nicole and
Janelle. The same path that put her on the road to possibly becoming a murder
suspect.
 

Chapter
Four

A
rianna learned about LoveMeBlack.com from her girlfriend,
Tania.

Tania hadn’t had much luck
finding Mr. Right on earth, so she decided to search in cyber space.

    
Tania spent hours
peering at a computer screen salivating over pictures and poring over profiles
of men. She sent out a lot of emails, and got a few dates and some booty calls,
but nothing even slightly resembling a real relationship.

    
For Arianna, just
having someone to communicate with would be enough. Her plan was to put up a
profile and see what happened. No expectations.

    
She had no idea the
drama that short profile would bring into her life.

Hello
LoveMeBlack.com. My name is Arianna. I'm 37, 5’5, single with two children. I
live in Philadelphia and I’m new to the area. Looking to make friends and meet
new people. Email me to find out more.

    
She uploaded a picture
in which she wore a sexy, red gown with spaghetti straps. Nothing revealing
like the bathing suits and nightgowns a lot of women wore in the pictures that
accompanied their profiles, but enough to get noticed.
 

    
Afterwards, she
emailed several sisters on the site who lived in the area, asking for help
finding a hairdresser, someone to braid her daughter’s hair, and a few other
things a woman needed to know when she moved someplace new. She thought at
least one of them might provide some information, maybe even extend an offer of
friendship. She got an icy reception. The sisters let her know with the
quickness they were online to meet brothers and brothers only.

    
Arianna figured they
thought she was a lesbian, so she let it go.
 

    
She resigned herself
to the fact that any friends she made would definitely be of the male
persuasion. A week after she put up her profile, her inbox was deluged.

    
She spent half her
time trying to weed out the crazies, deleting emails from men who admitted they
were going through drama, those in the service stationed thousands of miles
away, youngsters and white guys.

    
The downright ignorant
guys really ticked her off. One sent her a naked picture of himself with his
dick dripping with cum. He’d written, “This is what is waiting for you
.
”

    
Does he really think
I’m going to jump at the chance?

    
There also were the
brothers who sent one-sentence emails like, “You’re a cutey, holla back,” and
“You wanna be my shorty?”

    
As if.

    
Some fools just sent
her their phone number.

    
Like I’m gonna up
and call a brutha I don’t know.

    
Kenny Washington was
the first man she met online who could hold her attention longer than five
minutes. He was an accountant by day and a jazz drummer by night. According to
the pictures he emailed her, he was slender, average height with a medium
build, and nice looking with a low cut ‘fro.

    
Arianna’s first
Internet date took her to Zanzibar Blue on South Broad Street in Center City.

    
She had been there
more than thirty minutes, checking her watch every five.

    
Her reservation was
for seven. It was almost eight.

    
It took her all night
to figure out what she was going to wear for this not-so-blind date. Her choice
was a black wrap-around dress and high-heeled black leather boots, the kind
that hugs your legs like a glove and stop just below the knee. The dress
criss-crossed her chest leaving a slight hint of cleavage, enough to be sexy
without being sleazy.

    
Under the table, her
leg was shaking to the sounds of water and ice splashing glass and the hushed
tones of conversation. She’d practically memorized the menu waiting for Kenny
to arrive.

    
She grabbed the silver
ankh resting just above the crevice between her breasts and rubbed it between
her fingers as she scanned the dimly lit room. The tables were decorated in
bright red tablecloths and candles.

    
It was packed as
usual. The bassist was playing scales on his acoustic instrument as the band
set up for its eight o’clock show. There were lots of couples. Couples in love.
Couples in lust. Couples just going through the motions because they believed
anything was better than being single.

    
It was easy to tell
the new lovers from those who could finish each other’s sentences. Those just
discovering each other touched, made eye contact and smiled. The others gazed
around the room lost for words. Some paid more attention to the black-and-white
photographs that adorned the walls than the person in front of them.

    
There was one couple
that caught her eye. They were young, probably mid-twenties. From their awkward
behavior, she figured it must have been their first date. They didn’t even
speak to each other, keeping their heads buried in their plates.

    
You’d think one of
them would know how to keep the conversation going.

    
Arianna wanted to be
somewhere in the middle, a good ways past awkward silence and butterflies in
the stomach, yet hundreds of miles from the off ramp of monotony. After Michael
died, she felt like she’d been at a rest stop on Relationship Highway.

    
She ordered a cup of
herbal tea to relax. Kenny probably had a good reason for being late and she
didn’t want to make a bad first impression with her impatience.

    
Not that it would be a
first
impression. They had been
communicating for weeks. Instant messages, emails, the phone. This would be
their first face-to-face meeting.

     
“I believe this
is your party, sir?” The host, a handsome mocha brother with wavy hair, walked
Kenny to the table.

    
“Thank you. Arianna,
it’s nice to finally meet you.”

    
Her eyes locked on the
round figure in front of her. She quickly scanned every inch of his two hundred
and sixty pound frame. His complexion was the color of peanut butter and just
as smooth, but he looked like he’d eaten several peanut butter sandwiches too
many.

    
After what had to be
the longest five seconds of her life, she stood up to greet him. He reached out
his arms for a hug. She gave him her hand instead.

    
“How are you, Kenny?”

    
“Fine,” he said,
disappointed by her welcome. “All I get is a handshake? I know it’s our first
time meeting, but I thought we were way past that.”

    
She kissed him on the
cheek. He smelled good. She recognized the scent. Perry Ellis. Michael’s
favorite.

 
   
“That’s a little better.”

    
He was lucky she gave
him that.

    
He squeezed into the
chair across from her, unbuttoning his navy blue, double-breasted suit jacket.
He had obviously bought his starched white shirt ten or fifteen pounds earlier
because he had gap-osis. His gut looked like it was trying to escape and take
at least two buttons with it.

    
“I see you ordered
already.”

    
“Just tea. I tried to
wait for you, but…”

    
“It’s cool. Sorry I’m
late, but traffic on ninety-five was a mess as usual.”

 
    
Kenny had driven from
Delaware. He worked for one of the big credit card companies headquartered
there. The drive usually took about an hour, but during rush hour it could
easily double, especially on Fridays.

    
He was one of her few
online friends who lived close enough to actually make a face-to-face meeting.

    
She couldn’t believe
how big he was or that he never clued her in during any of their dozens of
conversations.

 
   
“I’m glad we finally get the
chance to meet,” he continued. “You look great by the way, much prettier in
person than in the pictures you sent.”

    
“Thank you.” She damn
near bit her tongue holding it in.

 
    
He has the nerve to
mention the pictures? Ain’t this some shit. The ones he sent must’ve been taken
in high school.

 
    
Instead she said, “I
hear this band is good. Ever heard of them?”

    
“Yeah. I’ve played a
couple of gigs with the guy on the sax. They’re cool. So where’d we leave off
on the phone last night?”

    
“We were back on the
age thing.”

  
   
The waiter, a tall white man
with slick black hair who could pass for a model, came and took their drink
order. Arianna asked for white wine. Kenny requested a beer.

    
Kenny continued. “So
what do you have against younger men? You were ready to blow me off once you
found out how old I was.”

    
“I’ve got almost ten
years on you. I’ve never dated a man that young.”

    
“We’re both grown. Age
is just a number.”

 
    
“Guys your age usually
want a wife and kids. I can only provide half that package and it ain’t the
kids half.”

    
“Not all guys want
that.”

    
“Do you?”

    
“Haven’t made up my
mind yet.”

    
“Most do. And since
I’m not trying to get back on the mommy track, there’s no point in getting
serious with a guy who does.”

    
The waiter brought
their drinks. “Have you decided on your meal or do you need more time?”

    
Kenny gestured at
Arianna. She chose the catfish. He got the filet mignon.

    
The band started to
play. They listened without speaking, sipping their drinks and tapping their
fingers on the table to the beat.

    
As Arianna stared at
Kenny, her mind wandered back to college where she met Frank Crawford, who was
Kenny’s size. They sat next to each other in her behavioral psychology class.
She had thought about becoming a psychiatrist, but all those years of medical
school seemed like a lifetime so she majored in journalism instead and minored
in psychology.

    
She and Frank became
study partners. He had a great sense of humor and she had a lot of fun with
him. So much fun, that eventually, she stopped paying attention to his looks,
convincing herself that size didn’t matter.

    
One night, they were
in her dorm having the nature versus nurture debate with her on the side of
nurture. She was making a passionate speech about how boys are socialized to be
macho and aloof while girls are taught to be loving and affectionate. He shut
her up by kissing her.

    
Before Arianna knew
it, the lights were off and he was inside her. He was pumping up and down and
breathing heavily, but she couldn’t feel a thing.

    
Less than five minutes
later, he rolled over out of breath and sweaty like he was Michael Johnson
winning the 200-meter dash when he hadn’t even made it off the starting block.

    
And to make matters
worse, he snored loud, keeping her awake. For Arianna, no orgasm and no sleep
was not a good combination.

    
It would have been a
one-time thing, but Frank made her a mother that night so she stayed with him.
Responsibility took away his sense of humor and eventually he left her and
Amir.

    
She looked at Kenny.
No
way.

    
“Arianna, did you hear
me?” Kenny had asked her a question and was awaiting a reply.

    
“I’m sorry. What did
you say?”

    
“How many guys have
you gone out with that you met online?”

    
“You’re my first. How
about you?

    
“I haven’t dated any
guys, but you’re my first woman.”

    
Arianna laughed. “So
you’re a virgin?”

    
Kenny smiled. “So does
this mean I’m one of many more dates to come or the rest didn’t make the cut? ”