Chapter 2
The gold-plated metals that accentuated Keisha's king-sized canopy bed sparkled. “I have to change these damn curtains,” she stated as she made her way over to the window, trying to prevent the excess light from seeping through the sheer gold embroidered curtains. The light reflected off her Chanel, Juicy Couture, and many other name-brand perfume bottles, and it danced on her bed, mocking her attempt to block out the sun; and her efforts were in vain.
“I can already tell that today is going to be a bad day for me.” She shook her head, accepting defeat. Suddenly having a craving for some orange juice, she shook her head and headed back to the kitchen. She took the carton of SunnyD from the fridge and poured herself a glass, but got distracted by the blinking light on her answering machine that indicated she had awaiting messages. She continued pouring while she stretched her free hand to press the play button. Her glass overflowed and she felt the cold juice on her feet.
“Damn it!” She stomped her feet. She removed her feet from her wet, furry slippers. Hopping on one leg she retrieved a paper towel and wiped her foot.
“You have two new messages,” the machine stated when she pressed the retrieve button. The first message was for Nikki and she erased it after the first few words.
“Keisha, don't forget to meet me . . .” It was her friend Shay reminding her that they had business to take care of. She walked off with the glass of orange juice while the message still played. She put the glass to her lips and didn't remove it until the glass was empty, setting it on the granite sink in the bathroom afterwards. The green and gold decoration gave the bathroom a warm feel. Keisha took pride in keeping her bathroom squeaky clean because that was her zone to relax and unwind. Taking a bubble bath with a magazine, looking at the latest fashion, was something that was done as her therapy.
The water temperature was gauged to warm before she undressed herself, revealing her naked body. She placed a pink shower cap on her head, then stepped in the tub. Today she didn't have time for a bubble bath because she was running behind time to meet up with Shay. “Just what I needed,” she said approvingly as the warm water escaped the shower head and greeted her body. A flashback on the date she had a few days ago almost dampened her spirit.
That sick bastard.
The water glided down her body, relaxing her muscles, and she exhaled, wishing she could rid herself of the memory of that horrible date.
It was around eight o'clock when Keisha got to the restaurant and walked over to David's table, where he was already seated, drinking his tequila. David wore an Armani suit, and Keisha thought it had better be expensive because she could tell the real from the fake at a quick glance. She stood for a second to see if he would show her the courtesy of getting up and pulling out her chair, but he didn't. Raising his glass was his way of greeting her. He had an attitude, as if Keisha being late was his biggest pet peeve. Keisha stood with her hand on her hip, irritated by his mannerisms.
“I ordered for you since I was hungry and you were an hour late,” he said as he put the glass to his head.
“Since you're so hungry, why don't you have both meals? I'm sure that I wouldn't enjoy what you ordered anyways.”
She turned to walk away but he stood up and grabbed her arm, letting her know that he still needed her company. She looked down at her wrist, then looked back at him, indicating that he needed to release her hand. He quickly obliged, raising both his hands for a truce. Keisha stepped away from the table, turned off by his attitude.
“Wait a minute.”
She stopped and turned to face him.
“I like that you have some fire in you. Let's start over. Since this is a five-star restaurant you can order anything you want on the menu. It's my treat.”
“Is that supposed to make me smile from ear-to-ear as if I'm not acquainted with fine dining?”
David made a few huge sales in real estate and now he thought he was Donald Trump or God's gift to women. In fact he was a small fry in comparison to some of the men she was dating. Yes, you heard right, some of the men. Keisha took a deep breath and exhaled aloud. As she walked back to the table her blood was boiling. She couldn't stand a man who was on his high horse thinking he was God's gift to woman.
Their table was close to the kitchen and she could hear the ruckus that was going on back there. It was like an episode of
Hell's Kitchen
. She pulled out the chair and sat down and her eyes begin to wander from table to table. Keisha frequently dined at this restaurant but never was it full to capacity like tonight. As she continued scanning the room, tuning out whatever David was yapping about, her eyes locked on to the Jamaican Olympic track star Usain Bolt dining with a few reggae artists.
The ringing of David's phone caused her to bring her attention to him. “Hello,” he answered with a smile. He was instructing someone to meet him at the restaurant and Keisha was about to spit fire. “See you in a few.” David ended his conversation.
“What was that about?”
“I'm having an old friend of mine dining with us, that's all.”
This motherfucker must be crazy. How the hell is he going to invite someone on our date? On second thought his friend is probably more my type anyway. I could just slip him my number and see what he has to offer.
Keisha was enjoying her steak more than she was enjoying David's company. He was blabbing about his new Ferrari.
“Is your friend in real estate too?” Keisha cut him off in midsentence.
“No,” he replied and tried to carry on his conversation, praising his car. She didn't want to hear about how expensive the car was, nor was she fascinated by his description of the posh leather interior. He was admiring his car more than he was admiring her and she was right there in his presence.
Who wouldn't want to compliment me or beg for my attention?
David was in love with his new car and she was jealous.
“So, is he a childhood friend?” Keisha inquired, but her attention shifted while he replied to her question. She was incoherent of his words because of the woman walking toward their table, strutting her stuff in a dress by Dolce & Gabbana: the same dress she planed on ordering when she saw it in a magazine. There was no denying that the woman was stunning. The knee-length pink spaghetti-strap dress hugged the woman's figure. Her ample bosom, which looked to be a thirty-eight C, sat perfectly on her chest. They were surely bought and paid for. Keisha brought her attention back to her plate, not wanting to stare at the woman any longer because the green-eyed monster would start to show. Not many women could size up to Keisha but tonight she saw her competition.
“What were you saying about your friend?” she said, raising her glass to her lips, which were heavily moistened with lip gloss. The outline of her lips remained on the rim with a slight tinge of pink when she set the glass back on the table.
“She is right here.”
“She?” Keisha asked with a quick turn of her head. She was under the assumption that David's friend would be a male.
David got up from his seat and greeted the woman with a tight embrace. Keisha quickly took another sip of her wine to wash the filet mignon down so she wouldn't choke.
“Keisha, this is my old friend Lisa I was telling you about.” David introduced the woman with pride. She was the same woman wearing the designer dress that Keisha was just admiring.
Oh hell no.
The date was already going sour but now the presence of this woman joining them put a bitter taste in her mouth. Keisha had lost her appetite. She wanted to toss her drink in his face and couldn't have cared less if she ruined the bitch's expensive dress. The woman was all over David as if he was a long-lost lover or she was a bitch for hire who he paid well.
The waiter brought an extra chair and David fixed it at the table, then made sure that Lisa was properly seated.
Look at this shit. He didn't even pull my damn chair. Now I definitely have to get to the bottom of this shit.
“Are you two lovers or just friends?” she blurted without delay.
“I would say just friends,” the woman replied while gazing into David's eyes. She wiped his cheek, removing her lip gloss that was placed there from her kiss.
“Is that more like friends with benefit?” Keisha suspiciously asked.
“David, I think someone is getting jealous,” Lisa sang in an annoying voice.
Bitch, please, I might be pissed about the fact that you are wearing the dress I wanted but certainly not jealous of you and him. All I want is to get close to his pocket, not him.
The waiter returned to refill their glasses but Keisha opted for something stronger because she wanted to calm her nerves. She wanted to explode on them but she held her composure and remained classy.
“Cîroc pineapple,” Keisha ordered with a smile on her face.
David took the extra plate that wasn't touched and placed it in front of Lisa. “Oh, salmon is my favorite.” Without hesitation, she picked up the fork and indulged.
I guess he ordered it for your ass because I definitely don't like salmon.
“So, did David tell you about his new Ferrari?” she asked while still chewing.
“Yes, but a Bentley is more on my level.”
“Where did you find this one? She has expensive taste.”
“Where did he find me?” Keisha raised her voice, turning a few heads.
“Calm down.” David tried to defuse her. “She didn't mean anything by it.”
The waiter returned with Keisha's order of Cîroc pineapple. It couldn't have been better timing. She took a big gulp, almost finishing her drink in one shot.
David sat with his arms folded on his chest, intently viewing both women. He was feeling like a king. He was getting satisfaction from having two beautiful women wanting him.
Lisa and David caught up on old times as if Keisha weren't even at the table. The woman gave him goggle eyes as she laughed at his jokes that weren't even funny.
Why the hell am I still here? It's obvious that three is a crowd.
Keisha wiped her mouth with the white napkin, staining it with her pink lip gloss. She reached for her Louis V. purse in her lap, finding her lip gloss to reapply. A little freshening up before she made her exit.
“So, ladies, what's for dessert?” David rubbed his hands together.
“I don't think she will go for it,” Lisa added as they both stared at Keisha.
“Let me handle it,” David said with confidence. He went into his pocket and took out a stack of money and placed it in front of Keisha.
She looked at him questioningly with her brow frowned. “What the hell is that for?”
David got up from his chair and walked behind Keisha, resting his hands on both of her shoulders, massaging them gently. “That's my way of apologize for my attitude earlier and hoping that after dinner you will join us at the hotel for dessert. So what will it be?”
Keisha stood up from her chair, enraged. “Do I look like a fucking whore? Take your money and shove it up her ass. How about eating that for dessert?” Keisha took the remainder of her drink and tossed it into Lisa's lap.
“You bitch!” Lisa yelled, causing people to stare.
“No, honey, that's you.” Keisha walked out of the restaurant like a model on a runway, holding her head high, refraining from bringing out the ghetto in her. She didn't want to be stereotyped as the ghetto black girl in a fancy restaurant. Besides, a few high rollers had their eyes on her. And she wanted to remain a lady.
The continuous ringing of the doorbell played an awful tune. She tried to ignore it but the person wouldn't go away, which resulted in her ending her shower. She grabbed her robe and covered herself, then hastily walked to the door like a madwoman. There was a woman she didn't recognize standing at her door.
“May I help you?”
“Where is he? I know he's in there!” the angry woman yelled as she tried to see past her by tipping up on her toes, swaying from side to side.
If it was any other morning Keisha would have enjoyed putting her in her place, but not this morning. She didn't know this woman and she didn't care to know who she was or what she was being accused of. After viewing her from head to toe, Keisha shook her head and slammed the door in her face. It wasn't unusual for a wife to come knocking at her door whenever her husband didn't come home at night. Keisha would always feel the wrath of the sanctimonious bitches whether or not she was guilty of the crime.
“Charles, I know you are in there!” the woman shouted as she banged on the door. The boisterous woman had her neighbors' curiosity running wild. You could see them peeping out their windows to see what was going on.
This was a quiet and quaint neighborhood located in Bridgeport, Connecticut, an hour away from New York. The neighbors' lawns were always well manicured, with luxurious cars in each driveway showing off their wealth; but that was also a cover-up to hide their miserable and unhappy lives. You would see wives running errands with their fancy designer handbags occasionally waving to their neighbors and giving a phony smile. They all feared Keisha because their husbands secretly lusted after her and she had a reputation for crossing boundaries to get whatever she wanted. Keisha didn't care much for the people who lived in the neighborhood but she wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of seeing her leave.