My Woman His Wife Saga (11 page)

 

 

“When did you and Monica start hanging out?” James asked curiously, trying to get the heat off him. He didn't want Jasmine to even begin to think he was involved with Monica in any way, shape, or form. He was still scraping up the money from the last James and Monica private party to put back into their joint savings account they had for their twins. Keeping her quiet was expensive, and he often wondered why he kept going back.

“We hang every once in a while,” Jasmine responded, choosing her words carefully.

“Since when? You acted like you didn't know who she was when we saw her at the courthouse that day.” James tried to turn his guilt into anger, not realizing that he was making a done situation worse for himself.

“I didn't recognize her then,” Jasmine replied with the beginnings of an attitude. “I ran into her again after that and we exchanged numbers. We only had lunch a couple of times and she picked me up from here twice. Is that a problem?”

“Are you sure all you had was
lunch?”
James asked Jasmine with a straight face. If he could get Jasmine to say she slept with Monica again, it would lift some of the guilt off his shoulders.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Are you implying that there should be something else?” Jasmine came back almost at the boiling point. She wanted to continue what they started before Monica came, but James was messing it up with his accusations.

“No, I'm just saying that Monica can be very persuasive. You act like you don't know she has the hots for you.”

“How would you know, James? We only shared one night. How many times were you with her since then?” Jasmine shouted, cleverly tossing the ball back into his court.

James automatically saw that he put his foot in his mouth. His reverse psychology didn't work, and he should have just let it go. He had been trying to stay away from Monica, but since day one he was drawn to her like a magnet. Deciding to bow out of the situation, he tried to come up with a lie to cover his ass before his cover was completely blown.

“I only see Monica in passing. A young lady that she's dealing with works near the station, and I see her sometimes when I'm on lunch break. She asks about you all the time, and once asked if you were interested in getting together for another threesome.”

“And what did you tell her?” Jasmine asked with her arms folded tightly across her chest. James's story didn't add up only because she had been with Monica on more than one occasion, and the possibility of a threesome was never brought up.

“I told her that I didn't think you would do it because that's not your style. You only did it that one time because I asked you to.”

“And she was okay with that?” Jasmine didn't sound convinced. If she knew anything about Monica, she knew that she didn't bend easily, and once she set her mind on something, that was it. She also wondered if James ever went back for more, because that story he told her about how they met just didn't add up.

“She didn't say anything otherwise, and it's been a while since I've seen her.”

“How long has it been exactly?” Jasmine asked to see if he would lie about it. The night they got into the argument he came home without his boxers, and the only person she knows that keeps your underclothes after you've slept with them is Monica.

“A couple of weeks . . . She hasn't been coming that way for lunch lately, I guess.”

“She told me you went there the night we got into the argument,” Jasmine said, testing his credibility. She and Monica never discussed that night to that extent, but James didn't know they even talked like that.

“That's bullshit. I don't even know where she lives exactly besides the information she gave me to put the packet together for our threesome. I haven't looked at that since then, and that was so long ago.”

“James, this conversation is over for now,” Jasmine said while retreating up the stairs.

“But what happened with us making love on the couch?” James asked as his erection began to appear through his boxer shorts.

“You fucked that up when you decided to play detective.”

“But . . .”

James couldn't get another word in as Jasmine disappeared up the steps and into the bathroom. He heard the shower running and thought about joining her. Deciding against it, he knew he had to figure out a way to leave the house so that he could go talk to Monica. He didn't know if Monica really told Jasmine he was over there or if Jazz was just calling his bluff, but he was getting to the bottom of this once and for all.

Racing up the stairs to grab his keys off the dresser, he walked in on Jasmine applying lotion to her skin. Trying not to stare at the beads of water still on her freshly showered skin, he slipped into his boots and searched his jacket pocket for his cell phone. Jasmine took note of all of this as she continued with her task. She was not in the mood to argue with James, but she did want to get some before she went to sleep. It wasn't often that the house was child-free.

“I'll be right back,” James said without even a glance in Jasmine's direction. He was going to confront Monica before his marriage was destroyed.

“Where are you going and why are you leaving now?” Jasmine was a little disappointed. She was going to make it up to James by
putting it on him,
but he was leaving the house.

“I have some business to take care of.”

“On a Saturday afternoon? What kind of business?”

“Business . . . I'll be back.”

“Sure you will. Tell Monica I said hello.”

Without bothering to respond, he walked out of the house and jumped in Jasmine's Blazer, hoping to throw Monica off a little because she wouldn't be expecting him in his wife's car. He had to set things straight if things were going to work out between the three of them, and he had to do it today.

Jasmine watched from the window as James pulled off in her Blazer, wondering why he didn't take his car. She didn't really think James was fooling around with Monica, but felt guilty as hell because she was. Changing the sheets and taking clothes out of the hamper, Jasmine found the pair of panties that she threw in there a few weeks ago. She took them out holding them to her nose, still smelling the faint scent of Monica's chocolate body butter.

Deciding to toss them in the trash so James wouldn't suspect her of foul play, she cut them up into little pieces and made sure they were at the bottom of the trashcan. Taking the rest of the stuff to the laundry room, she busied herself with washing clothes as she tried to think of a way to let Monica go without ruffling her feathers.

When James first met Monica, he was in complete awe of how sexy she was. Standing outside of The Grill, a fast food restaurant that serves 90 percent of the businessmen and women in Central Philadelphia, he spotted Monica at one of the tables outside eating alone. After placing his order, he contemplated going outside to talk to the pretty-in-pink vixen dining alone. He and Jasmine were going through
it
at home, and even though he never really entertained the idea of stepping out of his marriage, if he did, Monica would be perfect.

Hesitant at first, he stood to the side while his food was being prepared, just watching her eat. She took petite bites of her grilled chicken salad as she simultaneously sipped homemade lemonade and flipped through her copy of
Complex
magazine. She had the cutest heart-shaped lips, the bottom slightly fuller than the top.

Watching her movements, James thought she made eating almost look sensual even when she looked up a couple of times, catching him glancing her way. Her facial expression didn't change as she looked back down at her magazine and continued to enjoy her meal. James noticed that her salad was almost gone, and he wished the cooks would hurry up so he would have a reason to go over to her. As if reading his thoughts, his number was called and he made his way through the crowded restaurant and outside just as Monica was preparing herself to leave.

“Is this seat taken?” James asked, flashing his most charming smile. His smile was what attracted Jasmine to him.

“No, and actually I was just leaving,” Monica said as she pushed the remainder of her salad to the side and searched her pocketbook for her car keys.

“You can't leave . . . I mean, please stay. Your company is appreciated.”

Monica looked at James—his physique, his jet-black wavy hair and goatee connected perfectly on his smooth face, his eyes that looked like pools of warm caramel that made you just want to strip down to nothing and dive into them. The handsome man intrigued Monica.

“No thank you, maybe next time,” Monica replied as she dropped a twenty on the table and walked away.

James was speechless as he watched her in silence, her sway hypnotic. James almost ran after her, but knew if he did it would just scare her off.

The following day Monica was seated in the same spot. This time James had already ordered, and instead of asking her permission, once his food was done he went and sat down at the table with her. Monica looked up from her magazine, no indication of a smile present. James began cutting his grilled chicken into bite-sized pieces, totally ignoring the look of disdain on her face.

“I don't remember offering you a seat,” Monica began, clearly annoyed. Although the man in front of her intrigued her, she didn't like the fact that he took the initiative. To her that showed signs of being pushy and inconsiderate, and she didn't tolerate that.

“Oh, I do apologize. It's just that all of the other tables are taken, and I figured sitting next to someone as beautiful as you would make all of the other men here jealous,” James responded with a lazy smile. He could have easily occupied one of the tables where other men were having lunch alone, but he wasn't trying to get with them.

Monica already knew who James was from her little investigation the day before. After taking the liberty of doing a background check on Tanya's sexy lawyer, she was surprised to find out the handsome man at lunch yesterday belonged to her, and devised a plan to get next to her through him. She had to make him think she wanted him badly if she had any chance of meeting Jasmine outside of the courtroom. James was sexy, but Jasmine was a dime. Monica knew if she got the chance she would turn Jasmine out in more ways than she could handle.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Monica flirted back openly. “What's your name?”

“James . . . James Cinque, and you are?”

“Monica.”

“Monica what? I gave you both names, so now it's your turn.”

“Monica will do for now,” she replied with a slight smirk, satisfied that this was the correct James Cinque from T.U.N.N. The last name was not common, so she knew it had to be him.

“Okay Miss ‘Monica will do for now',” James joked, “What inspires you? What do you do for entertainment?”

“A little of this, a little of that,” Monica responded flirtatiously. She thought James's gullible ass was going to be easy as she picked at her salad.

“Cute . . . real cute. Well, what do you do for a living? Or does the answer remain the same?” Instead of responding, Monica placed a business card on the table. James picked it up, taking in the fancy script and pleasant smell like the cards were sprayed lightly with Breathless by Victoria.

“Specializing in You.
Are you independently contracted or what? What exactly do you do?” James asked as he stared at the black card complete with a long stem pink rose and lettering of the same color. The card looked very chic but classy, just like Monica and completely unlike his wife's boring business cards that the firm supplied her with.

“I'm a photographer,” Monica offered without further explanation.

“Family portraits, children, pets,” James inquired getting a sexy laugh from Monica. “Please, elaborate for me.”

“I photograph stars for several different magazines.
Essence, Complex, Sister 2 Sister, Ebony, Vibe,
things like that. I also paint and sell my work for high dollars.”

“Wow,” James said taken aback by Monica's forwardness. “So how do I go about getting a private session?”

“A private session, huh? Is that a wedding band I see on your finger?” Monica asked, already knowing it was.

“One has nothing to do with the other,” James replied, trying to avoid the question. “How can a nice brother like myself take a sexy woman like you out to dinner?”

“Sorry,” Monica replied. “I don't frolic with the talent. Have a good day, Mr. Cinque.”

Without waiting for a response, Monica dropped another twenty on the table and left as quickly as she came. Looking down at the business card, James saw that she wrote her home number on the back of it. Tucking the card inside of his wallet, James wrapped his lunch to go and made his way back to the office.

 

 

Slamming on the breaks, James almost ran a red light as thoughts of Monica clouded his memory. He was clearly intrigued by Monica's beauty, but now he couldn't help but think that bringing her into his marriage was a huge mistake. He thought back on the threesome with his wife and wondered if she and Monica ever got together after that. He also thought about all the times he and Monica had unprotected sex and wondered what exactly he would do if she did get pregnant. How would he explain it to Jasmine? That threesome happened well over six months ago. The amount of money he spent on her was already an issue Jasmine could not find out about, and he was set on ending what they had today.

Pulling up to Monica's door, he parked behind her convertible and walked quickly through the closed door. Monica was elated that Jasmine came to see her until she saw James exiting the vehicle. Wondering what the purpose of his visit was, she took the steps two at a time, hurrying to answer his persistent banging on her cherry wood door.

“Why are you banging on my door like you're the police?” Monica said as she swung the door open.

“We need to talk,” James replied coldly as he brushed past her, not waiting to be asked inside.

James missed the dirty look Monica gave him as she slowly closed the door and made her way to the sofa. She had just taken a pregnancy test, her third in three weeks, to confirm that she was still pregnant and the test worked. She had a gynecologist appointment in the morning that she was dying to get to. She was planning to share her good news with Sheila once she woke up, but James's unexpected visit deterred her for a second.

“What do we need to talk about, James?” Monica inquired, already bored with his presence. She thought briefly about waking Sheila up and having that threesome just to make sure she was really pregnant, but she decided to wait. Just in case she wasn't pregnant she would need him to come by again.

“Monica, I can't do this anymore,” James began while pacing back and forth in front of the couch. He knew if he sat down he wouldn't get anything said. Sitting too close to Monica was dangerous at a time like this. He needed to keep a level head to get this done.

“You can't do what, James? How many times are we going to go through this?” Monica asked as she stood up and pressed her body against his. “Are you starting to feel guilty again?”

“Did you tell Jasmine I came over here to talk about her when she made me mad that night?”

“I haven't seen Jasmine in a long time,” Monica began, trying to see where he was taking this. “Why? What did she tell you?” Monica asked, taking her seat again because she was starting to feel sharp pains in her side that took her breath away.

James didn't want to put it out there if it wasn't said, and chalked it up as Jasmine trying to call his bluff. He would deal with that once he got home, but for now he had to break things off with Monica.

“She didn't tell me anything. I wanted to know if you opened your mouth to her.”

“Well, I didn't.” Monica said between breaths. The pains in her abdomen were getting sharper, causing her breath to come in spurts.

“Good, keep it that way. I just came here to tell you that we have to chill. I can't see you anymore. Things at home aren't right, and being here is not going to . . . Monica are you okay?”

James was so into his story he didn't see Monica doubled over in pain on the couch until he turned to look at her. His back was to her, and he was mainly focused on how to get things with Jasmine back on track. She was clutching her stomach with tears streaming down her face, a pool of crimson blood forming around her on the beige sofa. James ran over to her not knowing what to do.

“Monica, it's okay, baby, I'm calling for an ambulance now,” James replied while trying to hold her up and dial 911 at the same time.

“James, tell them to hurry. I don't want to lose my baby,” Monica said between her tears.

“Baby? What baby?” James said as he waited for his phone to connect to the police station.

“Your baby, now hurry up,” Monica replied, as the circle of blood grew larger beneath her.

James explained the situation to the cops, and he talked to Monica once they were on their way. As cruel as it may sound, he hoped deep down that the baby didn't make it. That way he wouldn't have to explain his adulterous ways to his wife.

By the time the ambulance showed up, Monica was laid back on the couch barely able to move. James did what he could to keep her comfortable, but he was getting more nervous by the second because of the amount of blood on the couch and on the floor in front of it. The ambulance walked in and checked Monica's vitals as they questioned James on what happened.

James tried as best he could to explain what went down as they wheeled Monica out to the truck. He heard Monica, as low as her voice was, telling the EMT to hurry because she didn't want to lose her baby. Monica had lost a lot of blood and was miscarrying as they spoke.

Not knowing what to do as the ambulance pulled away, James turned back to the house so that he could clean the mess up. When he walked in, he saw Sheila standing up the top of the steps with tears in her eyes.

“I didn't know you were here,” James said, surprised to see Sheila. The last time they got together they were in a very compromising position, and it made him feel a little uncomfortable with her in the room.

“We were just talking and I dozed off,” Sheila replied, not wanting James to know that she heard bits and pieces of what they were talking about. She thought she heard Monica tell James she was pregnant, but by the looks of things she might not be for long.

They stared at each other for a while, James taking a seat on the arm of the chair to collect his thoughts.

“Look, about the last time I was here,” Sheila began suddenly feeling like she had to cover herself. She didn't know what James thought of her, and she wanted to tell someone what she knew before it killed her.

“Don't worry about it. Let's just clean this up. I don't want her to come home to this mess.”

Without words they both grabbed towels and cleaners and got the mess up as best they could. They couldn't do anything about the blood on the couch, but they made sure the floor was spotless, and threw the soaked pillow away so that Monica wouldn't have to deal with it when she got home.

Sheila went back and forth in her mind about whether she should tell James about the videotape as he drove her home. She had taken one from the wall safe that Monica had left unlocked, and it was now burning a hole in her pocket. He didn't look her way once, his eyes appearing glazed over as the tragedy played repeatedly in his head. James was going through his own shit, and was praying hard that the baby didn't make it. After dropping Sheila off, he went home to talk to his wife, deciding that would be the last time Monica saw him.

By the time Monica arrived at the hospital, they had to take the three-month-old fetus from her and give her a blood transfusion to help her survive. She was carrying in her tubes, and they caught it just in time. If she had waited any longer, her tubes would have burst, killing her in the process.

Pulling into his driveway a half hour later, James walked slowly up to his front door after noticing his bedroom light was still on. Debating whether he would share what just happened with his wife, he put his key in the door, not really knowing how to handle the situation. Figuring it would probably be best if he just came clean, he took the long trek to his bedroom to clear the air between him and his wife once and for all.