Chapter 3
THREE
Dressed in a pair of barrel jeans, a white wrap top, and vintage Dior slingbacks, I sipped from the prettiest textured glass filled with coffee. Without a doubt, I knew it had been sourced from a vintage shop or a generous estate sale.
Genre , the corner coffee shop, was notorious for their glassware and trinket dishes for serving their guests. It was almost impossible to find a match or set that wasn’t at least sixty years old. Pat, the owner, had a very unique vision that I was happy to see come to life.
The coffee was incredible. The scenery was perfect. The crowd was diverse. The fact that there was a library full of books by Black writers that guests could read freely the duration of their sitting made the visits even sweeter.
Currently, my eyes were nestled between the pages of a very cute, very short story about strangers becoming lovers. Ironically, their union had been arranged as well. I’d smiled a hundred times since I split the book’s pages to read the prologue.
So lost in the story of Kema and Dillan, I struggled to recall the purpose of my visit. The time on my phone’s screen revealed another hour was on the horizon. Eleven was approaching and I’d been seated since ten, precisely.
Kofi .
My brows crinkled in search of the center of my forehead. The genuine disgust that quickly began mounting led me to my feet. Irritation was heavy on my heels as I marched toward the counter. Giving up Kema and Dillan after reading the first five chapters of their story felt too much like torture.
Through the lens of my black shades, I set my sight on the register, fully prepared to request the price of the publication so I could checkout, gather my things, and head out. The solid chest that met my shades, pushing them further onto my face, had appeared from thin air. My entire body shifted backward.
Swiftly, I placed the book in my left hand and slid my right hand into the back of my jeans where my weapon was partially concealed. The palm against my elbow, pulling my arm in the other direction was seconds away from being blown to shreds.
I retrieved my weapon, ready to shoot first and ask the nagging questions later. However, the debilitating baritone I’d heard many hours prior at the first family dinner left me paralyzed.
“Don’t blow your cover.”
Taking the request into consideration, I shoved my Beretta back into my jeans and fixed my shades. I took a healthy step back, separating us while simultaneously trying to gather oxygen the man before me had stolen from my lungs.
“You’re late.”
“I know,” Kofi groaned, removing the shades from his face while rubbing his forehead.
“And, hungover,” I sighed, heading in the opposite direction.
He followed behind me, taking a seat at the table I stopped in front of. I placed the book I was reading face down, sure not to lose my current page.
“Unacceptable.”
“Good morning to you, too.”
“Tardiness is a sign of disrespect, Kofi. I’m certain I don’t have to tell you this. You’re a mess.”
“I’m not.” He shook his head.
“You haven’t recovered from what I assume was a good night. You’re late. And, though you seemed to have bathed, liquor is coming from your pores. If this is any indication of how much you value the connection we’ve been tasked with developing, then you have a ways to go before I happily walk down the aisle. This behavior will not be tolerated.”
Without saying a word, he stared directly at me with a smile on his face.
“What is it that’s on your mind?”
“My father wasn’t lying,” he sniggered with a shake of the head.
“What does that mean exactly?”
“You girls are special.”
“If that was meant to be a compliment, thanks.”
“It was, which is why I don’t want you to take much of what’s said at this table personal.”
“Thanks for the warning, but I can’t promise you anything.”
“Fair enough.”
“Would you like coffee?”
“Nah. I’m in no mood to be shitting all day. That’s all coffee does for me.”
Taken aback by his remark, my face contorted. The smirk I was trying to keep at bay fought for relevancy.
“You’re going to be on the toilet in an hour tops, so we need to hurry this shit up, anyway.”
“Is that right?” I chuckled, amused by his honesty.
“Yeah. Though I apologize for my tardiness, make no mistakes. I respect your time. I value this shit we’re being forced into, but who the fuck wants to meet for coffee at ten in the morning on a Monday?”
“Me,” I reminded him.
“Obviously.”
“This doesn’t have to be difficult, Kofi. This arrangement– it’ll be whatever we make of it. And, for me, I want to make the best of it. That starts now. I just need to know you’re on board, because I will not exert all my energy while you hardly give any. There needs to be an equal amount of effort to balance this all out. I’m willing to give it everything if you’re willing to do the same.”
With an angled head, he brushed his beard. My heart fell to the pit of my stomach as I waited for whatever was in his head to come from his mouth. I knew it was only a matter of seconds. Kofi had made it clear last night that he had a difficult time holding onto his thoughts.
“That’s where the bitterness to this otherwise sweet opportunity comes into play. This was not my idea, love. And, that’s not to discourage you or devalue you in any way. That’s just me being frank. My people consider me a walking train wreck. Because of my history, they have every right to.”
“However, forcing me into a relationship I didn’t ask for nor want at this point in my life in an attempt to save me from self-destruction is so over the fucking top. I almost lost my life two years ago. It took me eighteen fucking months to recover. Eighteen.”
“And, that wasn’t a full recovery. Until four months ago, I was still fighting to get back to myself after breaking almost every bone in my body, including injuring my spine. I’m not supposed to be sitting here talking to you today, but I am. And, in my opinion, jumping into a relationship after that shit is– it’s not what I want to do.”
“They’re scared. I scare them. The idea of my death scares them. And, you happen to be a casualty of that fear. When I say I am not ready, Rather, please believe me. Don’t let me show you. That shit will be painful and the last thing I want to do is hurt you. But, I’m not ready.”
“This isn’t up for debate, Kofi. I have been sacrificed. Do you understand this?”
“I do. Fully. But, as you said, this will be exactly what we make of it.”
“So, what are you proposing?”
“The full ninety days.”
“For what, exactly?”
“For preparation. I’m not ready, but I can get ready if you just give me that time. I lik– I love pussy, Rather. All kinds. All sizes. All depths. And, I will not stop sliding in them just because my fucking father thinks I’ll die soon if I don’t settle down and have a fucking family.”
“I’m only a few months into full mobility. It wasn’t until the last two months that I started feeling like myself again. I’m not ready to sit down and I won’t. Not yet. So, for the next eighty-something days, I’ll continue to explore. Continue to do whatever my single ass pleases.”
“But, the day I am obligated to our commitment is the day it all stops. Everything. And, I devote myself completely and wholly to you.”
“And, during that time, I just hang around hoping you’ll actually be ready?”
“No, we still get to know each other. We date. We court. We learn each other’s fears and favorite colors and shit. Whatever they do in relationships.”
“You’ve never been in one?”
“I haven’t and wasn’t planning on it either.”
“Yet, here I am.”
“Here you are,” he said, nodding.
Taking a look at his handsome face, I softened. His honesty was appreciated though it wasn’t something I’d expected to ruffle my feathers. This wasn’t the ideal meeting, but it was progressive, nonetheless. I knew where he stood, what he wanted, and how he was feeling. He knew where I stood, what I’d accept, and how I was feeling as well.
“Fine.”
I sipped from the cup of coffee.
“Fine. I’ll give you the full ninety days, because whether you’re ready or not the wedding is happening and before I allow you to make a fool of me in marriage, I will make you regret surviving that accident.”
“Wh– wait. Wha–”
“I let you talk. Now it’s my turn. You’ve laid down your ground rules, so here are mine.”
“I’m listening.”
He straightened his posture and leaned in.
“You have until the night before our wedding to wrap it up. In the meantime, while you’re sliding your dick in others you will not be sliding it in me. If you’re not ready, then neither is my pussy. It’s a sacred place. No man who is planting seeds in other gardens can enter mine. It’s not happening.”
“Damn, I can’t even sample the pussy before we walk down the aisle?”
“The walk down the aisle is happening whether we like it or not. So, deal with that on your own time. You’ve had two years to come to terms with it and so have I.”
“True. True.”
He nodded.
“When I call, answer.”
“Doable.”
“Don’t make me feel alone. Don’t make me feel like a burden. Don’t make me feel like I’m begging for your attention, because I won’t. Not now and not ever.”
“Noted.”
“Dates. Dinners. Outings. We will still indulge. You will actively court me, no matter what happens when you bring me home. That’s not my business. Not until we commit.”
“Understood.”
“Maintain your health. Wrap it up, Kofi. No babies and no diseases or infections.”
“Of course.”
I sipped my coffee.
“Anything else?” He smiled, making my center throb.
“Keep your hands to yourself, because if ever you fall into my garden your escape won’t be as easy as you assume.”
“Hands to myself,” he promised, holding both hands in the air.
“Good, then.”
He leaned over and took the glass from my fingers. I observed as he tipped the glass up against his lips and finished the warm beverage. Satisfied with my suitor, my lips curved up into a smile.
Does that sound like a Prince to you, baby? Chemistry’s words rang out in my head.
Maneuvering to suppress the yearning his beauty had begun to bribe, I thought, Yes. Yes, it does .
Eighty-seven days getting to know a man who was still interested in his freedom while I rejoined society and explored my own sounded like a plan. Though his selfishness was ingrained in the deal, it would produce so many rewards for me.
My protection.
My freedom.
My peace.
And, the lack of overwhelm was only a few.
“Pack your shit up, love. I’m not feeling this spot. I have somewhere better in mind.”
Suddenly, my story became more interesting than Kema and Dillan’s. I’d revisit them if I landed in Genre again. For the moment, I was more interested in Mr. Valentine and what he had in mind.
“Give me a second. I have to turn this book in.”
“You feeling it?” He asked, standing on his feet.
“I am, actually. It’s about an arrangement something like ou–”
The book was snatched from between my fingers and slipped underneath Kofi’s arm. He extended the other, ready to take my hand.
“We can’t j–”
“Quiet, Rather, and bring your pretty ass on, girl.”
“But you have the–”
“No one will know if you don’t tell them.”
A kleptomaniac . I concluded, taking his hand and slipping out of the coffee shop with second-hand embarrassment flushing my cheeks a deep maroon. We rounded the corner where I spotted a red Ferrari parked illegally with flashers blinking.
Bingo.
I didn’t need the three degrees I’d acquired younger than most to know I was staring at Kofi’s car. If the obnoxious color hadn’t told me so, the illegal parking might’ve. And, if that wasn’t the case, surely the music that was loud and lewd was the giveaway.
“Where are we headed?”
“You’ll find out when we get there. I need you to learn to trust your fiancé,” he joked.
“Is that what you are? Because, I don’t see a ring yet. And, didn’t you just tell me you’ll be sticking your thing in things dur–”
“Aye. Aye. Stop bringing up the past,” he laughed, showing those pearly teeth and that perfect smile.
“That was only a few minutes ago.”
“Still, the past. And, if it’s a ring you want then a ring I’ll get you. Say no more, love.”
With a roll of my eyes, I sunk into the passenger seat and allowed the buttery soft leather to embrace me. I watched as he dashed around the car and joined me on the driver’s side. With one hand on the steering wheel and the other planted on my thigh, Kofi pulled into traffic.
My back slammed against the seat the second the light changed in color. The missing roof allowed the wind to pour inside of the car. It pushed my hair backward and rearranged the light makeup on my face.
Kofi shifted gears, racing down the street as if flashing lights were behind him. I searched my handbag for the wallet I’d stuffed inside as I was leaving home. Surely we’d be on the side of the road with an officer at the passenger door before we got to our destination. The falsified documentation would be necessary if they requested my identity.
As I located the black leather YSL wallet, the tires came to a screeching halt. I looked up to find us in front of Adrenaline. Though I’d never visited the arcade, I recalled the week of its grand opening. The city was excited and happy to present their largest adult activity facility.
“Put that up,” Kofi suggested, jumping out of the car without opening the door or allowing valet to do so. “If they get behind us, I’m not stopping, baby.”
His declaration was music to my ears. It was lubrication for my center. The throbbing intensified as I watched him adjust his jeans on his waste and the shades on his face. The fact I wouldn’t have the opportunity to indulge was a shame. But, as long as he was craving other women, my appetite for him would be suppressed.
The Mansion.
It had been two years since I’d entered those gates, but the idea of returning to the residence soothed the itch I was developing. I unlocked my phone, prepared to send a message to the concierge. With any luck, my urgency wouldn’t pose a problem for staff. In the event it did, they’d be compensated well for their troubles.
My door swung open as a hand extended for me to grab. The attendant welcomed me with a smile and pretty, white teeth.
“Welcome to Adrenaline.”
“Thank you.”
“When I come back, there better not be a scratch on my shit.”
“Yes Sir,” the attendant chuckled.
“Don’t go joy riding, either. You can’t handle what’s under that hood, nigga.”
“I won’t.”
Kofi linked our fingers and ushered me to the door. The breeze wrapped my body in small, fine bumps. I leaned against the six foot frame beside me, hoping to capture his warmth.
Dark carpet covered the floors. Dim lights traveled the length and width of the building. Games sat inches apart from one another, waiting for human interaction. Through the main floor, we continued until we stopped in front of an elevator.
“Cold?”
Attention to detail.
Thrill-seeker.
Promiscuous.
Short attention span.
I parted the notebook that held nearly every thought I’d ever had and began making mental notes. Kofi was in a separate section. A special section. The section I’d revisit more often than not for the success of a marriage that I was beginning to look forward to.
He’s a fun guy.
In so many ways, I could use one in the world. Everything was always business. Always work. Always calculated. Always planned. Always a step in the right direction. Always the best decision.
The last two years of exile taught me so much about myself and how much of my identity was wrapped into my family’s operation. Without cases in front of me or assignments from Chemistry, I was lost for the first full year. It wasn’t until year two that I began discovering Rather. Who she is. What she likes. Where she is mentally and emotionally.
The balance between work and life will come easy, because he’ll make sure we’re living as much as we’re working. Surely.
“I am.”
As we waited for the elevator doors to close, his hands slid up and down my arms.
“They’re going to have to turn this shit up.”
“The heat?” I questioned, a bit confused by what he was referring to.
“Yeah.”
“I’m sure I’ll feel better when I start moving.”
He bear-hugged me, pressing his chest against my face and covering as much of me as he could. Inhaling his fragrance, I closed my eyes and disappeared somewhere in our pending future when the sheets possessed his scent.
And, no matter how many times I washed them I couldn’t remove it because he was ingrained in the threads. They remembered him. So did I. So did my body. So did my mind. So did my heart.
“We’re not going to wait to figure it out.”
We reached a secluded area seconds after exiting the elevator. Immediately, Kofi encountered a staff member.
“Welcome t–”
“She’s cold. I need the temperature a bit more suitable up here. Handle that and then we can talk.”
“Sure thing, Sir. I’ll get right on it.”
“That’s what I like to hear–” Kofi paused to read the nametag of the employer while tapping his cheek with his palm in a steady motion. “Joel.”
Joel scurried in the other direction as we continued in stride. It wasn’t long before I realized we were the only two people on the third floor.
“Ready to get your ass whooped?”
Near the netted machine that dispensed basketballs and counted the number of baskets each player made was where Kofi stilled. With his head angled toward the basket and his brows attempting to fuse with his hairline, he waited for my response.
“I’m afraid I don’t lose, Kofi.”
“How much you trying to bet, baby? And don’t bullshit me. My money long and yours isn’t skimpy, either.”
I took a look at my empty wrist, still upset about a few things I’d left behind in St. Catana.
“I could use a new Rolex,” I sighed, sucking the skin of my teeth.
“Say no more.”
“What about you? What if you win?”
“You’ve gambled enough by agreeing to give me your heart, Rather. Asking for anything else would be too much. I’ve already won.”
My hand rested against my chest as my eyes closed. I swayed my body from one side to the other, humming the words to Comfortable .
“I don’t think she’s listening, Royce.”
“Rather!” Royce called out, ignoring Rome.
“Hm?”
“Why are you smiling so hard?”
I lifted my wrist so that my new presidential piece was eye-level. The 36mm Rolex with the hidden clasp and diamond dial was such a beauty.
“Him.” I admitted, lowering my arm.
I placed the pencil at my lips and began tracing my natural line until I met the dark brown shade from the other side.
“Well, I’m happy to hear you at least feel an attraction to him. Admittedly, I was worried,” Roaman explained. “But that smile on your face tells me everything I need to know.”
“He wants the entire ninety days to empty his nutsack,” I informed the group.
Everyone was on the call and in their respective homes.
“Men,” Egypt scoffed, “You hardly find one who thinks with his big head.”
“Unless they’re old and it hardly works anymore,” Roulette chimed in, stuffing a chip in her mouth, “That’s why I won’t be thinking with mine until my coochie is loose and releases a little pee when I sneeze or laugh. Until then, it’s fuck niggas. Get money.”
“But you literally have a man,” I reminded her.
“It’s not and never will be that type of party over here and you know it.”
She was right. She’d been dibbling and dabbling for years now. I doubt that would change.
“So why are you smiling?” Rugger wanted to know.
“Richie raised many things, but a fool wasn’t in his repertoire.”
“Good to know your head is on straight,” she replied. “Now, tell me more, like how you came across that new timepiece.”
“He bought it. I beat him in basketball at the arcade and this was my prize.”
“I can’t be mad at that,” Roulette chuckled, “I taught you well.”
“If that makes you feel better, then I assume.”
“Let her finish, Roulette,” Rome complained.
“It’s the potential I’m most excited by, and not his alone. I know better than to fall for who I believe a man can be when who he truly is, is staring me right in the face and calling me a bold-faced liar. It’s the potential of a union I wasn’t sure what to expect of that has me smiling.”
“When I learned of the sacrifice and stepped forward so Rome didn’t have to walk into a life of uncertainty, it was because I didn’t want a man breathing down her neck and demanding anything of her she wasn’t willing to partake in on her own.”
“I didn’t want that life for her, but I knew I could handle myself. You know. Not saying you couldn’t, babe, but I’d much rather it be me. So, I stepped off that plane clueless with my guard up and my guns drawn –mentally of course.”
“Why not physically? That’s what I’d p–”
“We know, Rugger,” Roaman concurred.
“You know me, sister. They were ready just in case. But, as I was saying–” I sighed, finally glossing my lips, “I was expecting the unexpected. What I wasn’t expecting was to walk into a room full of people who reminded me of the people I love most.”
“I wasn’t expecting the handsome man I’d be marrying to be so enjoyable. So attentive. So honest. Men lie. That is a proven fact. So, I’d much rather him tell me not to hold my breath waiting for him over the next ninety days than him let me run out of oxygen while doing so.”
“He lifted a weight off my shoulders when he expressed his desires, because I have a few of my own.”
“Aw shit, now. Talk to me, sister,” Roulette effused.
“Quiet,” Range demanded.
“Desires?” Rome questioned.
“Yes. I was getting overwhelmed thinking about moving back to the states, maintaining my freedom, missing my family, getting to know a stranger, falling in love with him, planning a wedding, finding a dress, and getting down the aisle in ninety days.”
“When it’s all said and done, I’ll be marrying that man in less than ninety days. It doesn’t matter if we’re in love or if we are meeting for the first time. The deed is not up for discussion. Learning he’s tolerable and actually has plans to commit fully to our marriage when the time comes lifts the burden. But, until he’s obligated, his only commitment is to himself.”
“He’s fresh out of recovery. I am not opposed to his idea. So, I’ve tasked myself with enjoying each and every day leading up to the wedding as well.”
“Starting with–” Roulette asked, waiting for what she knew was to come.
For six months, after our departure and Chem’s arrest, I fed Roulette breadcrumbs about my experience at The Mansion . Not only because I wanted her to expand her business and create a similar experience, but because there was one detail about the experience I simply couldn’t get out of my head.
PS102 .
“A quiet place where I can forget the rest of the world exists.”
“Which is where you’re headed now? At nine o’clock at night?” Rugger searched for answers.
“It is. Hopefully, I’m there by ten. And, the only way that’ll happen is if I get you girls off the phone.”
“Oh, she’s rushing us off the phone?” Rome sounded partly surprised.
“Dick will do that.” Roulette sniggered as she hung up.
“We all know not to mind her. She’s a special case,” I reminded everyone, “But, I need to finish getting dressed and head out. I’ll talk to you girls tomorrow. I love you. All of you.”
Rugger responded by ending her call. Rome, Royce, Roaman, and Range all said their goodbyes before leaving the call. With my line free, I continued humming to the background tunes, prepping for a night out.
I stood in the closet that only held a handful of tops, bottoms, accessories, and dresses, trying to decide what to wear. Chem had insisted he recreate my wardrobe, but I denied him the opportunity. So much had changed in the last two years and most of the clothes I’d collected prior didn’t correlate with the woman I was becoming.
Ding. Dong .
The bell sounded around the house, slightly startling me. Not because I was afraid, but because I wasn’t expecting anyone and my phone was still on my bathroom counter. There was no way for me to see who was trying to gain access to my home… access to me .
My limbs stretched beyond their average capacity, helping me retrieve my phone quicker than usual. I located the application on my phone that showed all angles of my home. The front door was the view I was most interested in until I tapped it and realized there was no one there.
While strolling through my home, headed for the kitchen, I tapped the view of the driveway. A black Mercedes appeared, but there was no sign of human activity.
I twisted every knob on the stove and stepped aside as my small arsenal was revealed. I removed the prettiest and sassiest of them all, the Tiger Striped PMXs . It fit between my fingers like a glove. I grabbed a smaller, more compact pistol and shoved it in the pocket of my robe. It dangled, stretching the fabric due to his heaviness.
Still, I pushed forward and made my way toward the door, no longer worried about the cameras. When I opened the door, I’d see everything I needed to see. I trusted my own vision more than technology, anyway.
Ding. Dong .
I drew closer and closer to my door as the bell sounded again. With the PMXs ready to go and trained on the frosted glass that I couldn’t see out of and no one could see inside, I unlocked it and pulled the handle. As I began to press the trigger, ready to squeeze and end the life on the other side of the door, I noticed the sienna-colored skin and curly barrels of hair.
“Oh God. Please don’t end my life tonight. I just got a new manicure and haven’t taken the photos like I promised Tina. She’ll hate me all the way in heaven,” Kleigh begged.
“Don’t ever come unannounced,” I warned, pulling her into the house and locking the door behind her.
“Sorry, but I didn’t have your number. I stole your address from the family’s database. There wasn’t a number for you, though.”
“Your brother has my number.”
“Well, I tried reaching him but wherever he is, the music is too loud and his attention span is too short.”
“Figures.”
I lowered my weapon and straightened my spine as we stood in the foyer. I was waiting for her to state her order of business so I could get on with my evening.
“Aren’t you going to put that away?” She wondered out loud.
“I’m not. I’d like you to tell me your reason for being here.”
“God, so intense. Are the rest of the girls like this or is there at least one that’s less serious and into gir–”
“State your busin–”
“Okay. I see I’ve started off on the wrong foot by popping up, but please disregard my lack of etiquette. My parents taught me better. I apologize.”
“Accepted.”
“I’ve grown up around boys my entire life and always wanted a sister or a girlfriend I’m really close to but– Well, neither of those ever happened. I mean, Lola, for a few years but she turned out to be someone other th–”
“Lola?”
“Princeton’s mother.”
“Princeton?”
“My nephew. Priest’s son.”
Asshole has a child. Asshole Jr. I noted. Hopefully he didn’t take after his father .
“At dinner I felt like maybe our conversation was the start of a healthy relationship between you and I. You’re here alone and I’ve been alone since I discovered Kofi was another boy and not the sister I’d dreamed of. So, I brought snacks and pajamas, hair rollers, my laptop, a few credit cards, wine, and a movie.”
Because she was empty-handed, nothing she was saying made much sense.
“Did you now?”
“Bad idea?” She cringed, squinting her features.
No. The Mansion just happens to be a better one .
With a raised brow, I remained silent, knowing she had more to say. She was the cutest thing, brimming with excitement she was trying to contain. Letting her down would break my heart. I could settle for a deflated pearl between my legs.
What I couldn’t settle for was the look of disappointment on her face and the chance to indulge in what I loved most about the human existence. Womanhood. Sisterhood .
“Not at all.”
“Whew,” she sighed, loudly.
“Where are all the things you’ve spoken of? You’re practically empty-handed.”
“I know. I ran back out to the car thinking I could carry everything in myself, but I can’t. I’m going to need your help.”
“My hands are a bit occupied, but I can help get a few things.”
Putting away my weapons while stepping outside in the dark of the night in the company of another woman in a brand new neighborhood was absurd and simply wasn’t happening. For her safety and mine, they would accompany us outside and back however many times the load required.
“Good. Come on. Everything is in the backseat. I was thinking we could do a little shopping, yeah?”
She opened the door and headed toward the car. I followed, keeping my eyes and ears on guard.
“The way my closet looks, I’m thinking we could do the same.”
“Fair enough.”