CHAPTER THREE
In her red silk bathrobe, Bella let him into her luxurious Philadelphia condo and pointed to her coffee table. “It’s over there,” she said as she sashayed her hips in front of Mick.
“I thought Gloria said you was still in Paris.”
“I was. I got back this morning.” She picked back up her glass of wine from her coffee table, sat Indian-style on the sofa, and sipped her drink as Mick snatched up the note, sat down beside her, and read it.
Hello Mister Sinatra. Still the king of the mountain? Or has it crumbled already? But the truth is: I know what you did. I know all about it.
Then it was signed Your Past.
And then a postscript: Bella had no idea I was standing right over her. Just like you won’t have any idea who I am. That’s the beauty of it. That’s why it’s so easy. how did that song go? It’s so easy to love? It’s easier to hate.
Then it was signed again: Your Past.
Mick turned the note over, to see if there was more to it, but that was all. He looked at Bella. “Where did they leave this?”
“On my nightstand. I was in bed asleep when they broke into my house, left that note right under my nose, and left. I had no idea somebody was in my apartment. It’s so scary. I was terrified when I got up to use the bathroom and saw that note. I was horrified.”
Mick noticed her hand shaking when she went to sip her drink. He leaned back. He was so tired he could hardly think straight. The day had already taken a toll on him. And Bella saw it.
“You okay?”
“Yeah I’m fine,” he said as he stood to his feet.
Bella managed to smile despite her shakiness. “Yes you are very fine,” she said.
Unlike other women, she never hid her true feelings.
And Mick always loved that about Bella. She never tried to be anybody but who she was.
And as he stood there looking at her, she was still that beautiful model turned fashion designer that he once had a thing for.
She was the blueprint for other black women trying to break into the fashion world.
She was their shero. She mentored many of them.
Although she was also a selfish sonofabitch who got on his last damn nerve, he gave her her props.
But she always took it too far. And this time was no exception when she untied her robe and opened it, revealing her still-perfect naked black body. “Care to go a few rounds with me?” she asked him.
Mick hated that his dick went hard as soon as he saw her nakedness. He pocketed his hands. “I’m out,” Mick said as folded that note and had turned to leave.
“But what if they come back, Mick?” she asked with panic in her voice.
He turned and looked at her. “If they would have wanted to harm you, they had every opportunity when they left this note. I know that sounds coldblooded on my part, but they won’t be back.”
“I saved your life once,” Bella said, “but you still married somebody else. That’s coldblooded.”
Mick let out a harsh exhale. Because there it was: Another prime example of his selfishness. Of his house of cards. Of another nail in his coffin.
“I’ll put a guard on your door,” he said. And although he didn’t intend to, he almost by reflex looked down at her naked body one more time before he turned to leave. This time he left.
Bella took her glass of wine and smiled. She still had it. Roz had nothing on her.
But then she thought about those strangers in her house, and the way they came and went and left that note and she had no idea. And he just grabbed that note and left her alone to fend for herself.
“Bastard!” she yelled as she took her glass of wine and flung it toward the door he had just exited. The wine splattered everywhere. It destroyed her Versace scarf hanging on the back of that door. But the glass didn’t even break.