My Woman His Wife Saga (9 page)

Before morning, Monica was ringing Sheila's phone off the hook. Sheila didn't think she would be calling that soon, but she did take her money and instantly regretted it. Between Monica's calls she called the phone company, but it was after hours, and she would have to wait until nine the next day to do anything.

Sheila told her sister as much as she could without incriminating herself, and her sister decided that she didn't care how many times Monica called, she would have to get over it and move on.

“Hello, can I speak with Sheila?” Monica asked in her sweetest voice. She was calling to set up some time with Sheila for the next night, hoping she could get her to help persuade James into having the threesome.

“She's not available, can I take a message?” Sheila's sister replied just as nicely. She knew it was Monica from her calling the house before, and whatever reason her sister had for not wanting to talk to her was a good enough reason for her not to like her. There was something about Monica that she couldn't place her finger on, but she knew it wasn't good.

“What do you mean she's not there? I suggest you find out where she is and have her call me back!” Monica screamed into the phone, frustration wrinkling her brow already.

“Excuse me?” Sheila's sister had to look at the phone to make sure she heard right.

“I said Sheila needs to be contacted ASAP,” Monica came back with even more attitude. She didn't know who the girl was on the other end, but she did know she didn't want to talk to her.

“You need to get a better attitude before calling someone's house!” she said and hung up.

Monica was pissed. She almost dropped her phone in the tub she was so mad, and she slipped while she was getting out, damn near breaking her ankle. She didn't know who answered the phone at Sheila's house, but she didn't play those games and would be over there in a flash if Sheila didn't answer the phone.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she dialed Sheila's number again, and this time she was ready. Sheila didn't know who she was dealing with, and Monica would make her life a living hell if she didn't act right. The phone rang ten times before Sheila's sister answered again.

“Put Sheila on the phone!” Monica demanded from the other end.

“Bitch, please! When you learn some manners, call back,” and she hung up again.

This was just pissing Monica off more, and it took a lot for her not to go over to the house and snatch this woman up. Dialing the number one more time, she decided that if Sheila didn't get the phone, her life would be hell from there on out.

Three weeks had gone by, and Monica still hadn't heard a word from Sheila. When she called the office, a temporary assistant answered the phone, informing her that Sheila was on an indefinite leave of absence. Monica had been trying to keep her cool, but this was the last straw. Getting dressed in a sweat suit and sneakers and pulling her hair back into a ponytail just in case she had to whip someone's ass, she got in her car and raced over to Sheila's apartment to see what the problem was.

Double-parking her car in front of the building and not giving a damn that she was holding up traffic on a busy intersection early on a Saturday afternoon, she took the stairs two at a time all the way up to Sheila's third floor apartment. Knocking turned to practically trying to break the door down as Monica screamed and hollered for Sheila to show her face. She figured Sheila was inside hiding from her.

Monica was making so much noise in the hallway that Sheila's neighbors started to come out in the hall to see what all the ruckus was about. After all, Sheila didn't exactly live in the ghetto, and it was normally quiet in the overpriced, working class renters' apartment building. Monica kicked and banged on the door for a half hour, thinking Sheila would come out eventually. She was so into it that she didn't see one of Sheila's neighbors walking toward her.

“Ma'am . . . Ma'am, are you looking for someone?”

Monica turned around to stare at the elderly Caucasian guy standing a few feet from her. Almost doubling over in laughter, she tried to control her smile as she stared at him. He reminded her of the cartoon character named Mr. Burns off
The Simpson's
television show, teeth and all.

“Would I be banging on this door like a madwoman if I weren't looking for someone?” Monica asked, her smile disappearing. After thirty minutes of kicking and banging, she decided if Sheila hadn't come to the door by now, she wouldn't be.

“Well, Ma'am,” the senior citizen responded like he was getting an attitude, “it's just that you're making a lot of noise, and some of us are trying to sleep.”

“Does this look like the face of someone who gives a fuck?” she asked him, looking him dead in his eyes. “I'm not here for you, so take your old wrinkled ass back to your apartment before you write a check your half rich ass can't cash.”

“Your attitude is not necessary, young lady. I was just simply stating . . .”

“Simply stating what?” Monica replied, approaching the elderly man like she was going to strike him.

“That you need to take that hood shit back to the hood; this is a peaceful building and . . .”

“Old man, save it! I do what I want when I'm ready. What are you going to do to stop me?”

“I . . . I'm going to call the police,” Sheila's neighbor responded, taken aback by what Monica said.

“Yeah, you do that. I'll be waiting right here for them,” Monica shouted at his turned back as he shuffled down the hallway and into his apartment.

She could hear him making the call to the police department and perched her tired body into one of the chairs to wait for the cops to get there.

Not even ten minutes later, who but Officer Hill and Monica's other favorite officer of the law, Officer Collins, came strolling up the hallway to investigate the situation. Looking at Monica like he wasn't sure if he knew her, Officer Hill proceeded to knock on the neighbor's door to see what happened.

“Someone report a disturbance?” he asked the frail old man. He looked visibly shaken, and was afraid to step foot into the hall.

“Yes, that woman right there,” he said pointing at Monica, “was making all kinds of noise and threatened me when I asked her to stop.” Monica just sat there with a smirk on her face.

“Ma'am, is this true?” Officer Hill responded, taking a closer look at Monica. As he got closer to her, he recognized her and smiled in spite of the situation.

“No, Officer, it isn't. I'm just waiting for my sister to get home. This guy seems to get nervous around black people or something,” she replied, smiling seductively at the cop. He remembered the night they spent together and started blushing.

“That's a lie!” the elderly man spat out between his dentures. “She was kicking the door and everything. Look at it, you can still see her footprints on it.” Everyone looked at the door at the same time, and there were scuff marks on the bottom half of it. Monica just laughed softly to herself.

“Officer, those marks were on that door when I got here. My sister was supposed to meet me here, and I've been waiting for her for about ten minutes. That's my car double-parked out front. I haven't been here for that long.” Staring at Monica's breasts and not really paying attention, Officer Hill didn't hear much of what she said.

“Sir, do you have any witnesses?” Officer Collins asked the man, reluctantly turning his gaze away from Monica.

“This is ridiculous,” the neighbor said. “What do you have to do to get a good cop nowadays?” Without looking back, he walked into his apartment and slammed the door. Monica and Officer Hill stood in the hallway looking at each other and smiling. Monica was hoping they would just leave, but she was sure it wouldn't go down that way.

“And for the record,” the Mr. Burns look-a-like said inching his door back open, “this is a quiet building. Take all of that ruckus back to your hood,” he hollered before giving the door one final slam, clicking the locks loudly.

Both law enforcers turned to face Monica. Officer Collins couldn't even look at Monica for fear that he might snatch her up. He had dealt with her for only a short time, and she had managed to almost destroy his marriage. He too fell for the Jedi Pussy Trick, falling head over heels for the sexy vixen with amazing control of her vaginal walls.

“Hill, wrap this up; I'll meet you downstairs,” Officer Collins said as he walked quickly down the hall opting to take the stairs before his good intentions escaped him. Monica hid her smirk as she turned her attention to the obviously horny Officer Hill.

“So, Ms. Anderson, how have you been?” Officer Hill said to Monica while backing her into Sheila's door. His erection, as small as it was, was pressing against her abdomen, clearly showing his intentions.

“I've been good, Officer Hill. How have you been?” Monica replied seductively, hoping he would get a call on his radio or something. She was not in the mood for him tonight, and knew it wouldn't be easy to just dis him.

“Better, now that I see you.”

“How's the wife and kids?” Monica shot at him as he leaned down to kiss her neck. That caught him off guard, causing him to stand straight up.

“My wife an . . . and kids?” he stuttered, trying to remember if he ever told her about his family.

“Yes. You know, your wife Cynthia, and your kids Thomas and Jessica. How are they doing?” Monica smirked and waited for his reply as his erection faded to nothing. She got information on his background from the captain in his district. He owed her a favor, and wanted her to keep his secret from his wife, also.

“They're doing great. Thanks for asking,” he replied, backing away from her and adjusting his pants. “So, are you about to leave?” he asked, already walking down the hallway toward the exit.

“Yeah, my sister doesn't seem to be home.”

Looking back at the door one more time, she followed Officer Hill out the building. He waited for her to get into her car and pulled up beside her in his squad car. Lust was jumping off him like fleas on a dog as he stared at Monica, trying to think of a way to get over to her house.

“You go on ahead. I'll follow you to make sure you get home safely,” he said, staring at Monica's painted lips. Monica almost laughed at his attempt to get a booty call.

“No, it's cool,” she replied through the window, “I'm not going straight home, but I'll call you when it's okay to stop by.”

“Don't wait too long,” Officer Hill practically begged. “I don't think they have a twelve step program for getting over beautiful women.”

Instead of responding to his lame advances, Monica pulled off as quickly as possible, jumping on the first exit she saw, not knowing exactly where she was heading. She wanted to get away from Officer Hill as quickly as possible. It was a nice Saturday afternoon, and she did not feel like his bullshit or his thirty seconds of so-called
lovemaking.

Skipping her exit, she decided to go shake things up at the Cinque household. She was interested in seeing how the two would act knowing they were both separately sleeping with her, but neither knowing about the other. She thought maybe she could talk to James about that threesome on the sly if Jasmine left them in the room by themselves. Smiling wickedly, she jumped off I-76 at the Lincoln Drive exit and made her way to the Mount Airy section of the city to stir up some shit.

Parking in the driveway, Monica got out of her car and peeped in the window on the way past. Seeing Jasmine and James cuddled on the couch gave her an instant attitude, and she almost snapped. James was stretched out on the couch and Jasmine was lying on top of him with her head on his chest, both watching television. They didn't see Monica in the window, and when Jasmine leaned up to give James a kiss, Monica's temper went from zero to sixty in three seconds.

“I know he's not hugged up on my girl,” Monica said to herself while she looked in the window. “Doesn't he know she belongs to me?”

Knocking on the door like she was the police, she waited for someone to open it, hoping it would be James. Putting on her game face, she waited patiently for the lovebirds to separate and finally answer the door. She wanted to scream through the window that the same lips that were kissing James were all in her treasure chest not too long ago. She hated the fact that no matter how hard she tried to separate them, they always found a way to be together anyway. “Who is it?” Jasmine's voice sounded from the other side of the door. She sounded frustrated, but Monica didn't care. She hoped she messed up their little make-out session because she didn't want James sleeping with Jasmine anyway.

“It's Monica,” she said into the door. She didn't know how Jasmine would act to her popping up again, but she didn't exactly care either. She banged Jasmine's back out rather nicely a few weeks ago, so she figured Jasmine was aware of her capabilities by now.

“Who?” Jasmine asked not sure if she heard correctly. She swung the door open with tons of attitude.

“Hey Jazz,” Monica said, acting like she didn't notice Jasmine's mood.

“What did I tell you?” Jasmine said getting right to the point. “Didn't I tell you not to be just popping up whenever you felt like it?”

“Yeah, but . . .”

“But what?” Jasmine said getting heated. She liked Monica a lot, but if she kept doing the stuff she was doing, she was going to mess up everything.

“I just wanted to take you shopping. I was on my way to the mall and I didn't want to go by myself,” Monica replied, coming up with the lie quickly. She hoped she had at least one credit card on her, because if she didn't Jasmine would know that wasn't her reason for being there.

“Honey, who's at the door?” James hollered in the background. He was lying on the couch with a granite pipe waiting to serve Jasmine properly. Pissed because he told Jazz not to answer the door in the first place, he was wondering what was taking her so long to get back.

“Look, you have to go,” she said to Monica, ignoring James. She wanted Monica to leave before James got up to see who knocked.

“We won't even be gone that long, just a quick trip to the mall,” Monica replied, stalling for time. She wanted James to see her and wished he would hurry up.

Like he heard her thoughts, James finally got up to see what was going on. He wanted Jasmine wrapped around him in more ways than one, and he was ready to go now. When he got to the door his facial expressions went from shocked to scared as hell when he saw Monica standing there. He was just with Monica two days ago, and he still hadn't put the money he paid to her for the sex they had that night back into the account.

Monica was good, but she damn sure wasn't cheap. That night cost him seven hundred dollars, and it was getting harder to replace it. Yeah, she gave him a couple of free shots here and there, but most of the time she wanted her money up front if he wanted her to stay quiet. She was already pissed because he insisted on using a condom, and with that, up went the prices. Monica got even more pissed when he insisted on bringing his own condoms because he thought she was putting holes in the ones she had.

“Monica, long time no see,” James said, feeling the heat between the two ladies.

“Hey, James. I was just asking Jasmine if she wanted to go to the mall with me. You know, sort of a ladies' day out. You don't mind, do you?” she asked James with a smirk. Blowing him up would be blowing herself up, but Monica didn't care about consequences.

“Well, we were about to . . .” James said looking down at Jasmine for support. He didn't want to be the one to say no and hoped Jasmine would say just that.

“Before you came we were . . . um . . . enjoying each other's company,” Jasmine began, not caring if she hurt Monica's feelings, “so maybe next time you can call first and we can set up something, okay?”

“Are you telling me no?” Monica asked with a surprised look on her face before quickly checking her attitude. She didn't want to put herself out there just yet.

“I'm telling you maybe next time,” Jasmine said, backing up so she could close the door. Monica looked like she was going to cry, but it wasn't working this time.