“It is my privilege to meet you, Naomi. You are very, very beautiful. May I ask you a rather personal question, Naomi?”
“As long as it is not
too
personal,” she smiled and handed William a glass of champagne, which he placed on the cocktail table.
“I’d like to know why having never met me, you are interested in making my last night in Lagos so pleasurable. You are an extremely beautiful woman and I am sure that the men here must find you utterly irresistible so why the interest in someone you’ve never met before when you can have your pick of the litter?”
“I am here because you are a very bright and a very handsome man. And you are special in other ways too. I have heard how you took the time to help my people out so I was glad to make your last night here a special one. Many times I have done this what I am doing tonight. Sometimes, I choose to. Other times I do not wish to. Tonight I volunteered to be with the man that was willing to give up his life for one of my people. It is the least I can do.”
“Well, I’m quite sure that no one in Alex’s village could afford you or would consider sending you and I know the government frowns upon such things.”
“Unless it is for the government,” Naomi interrupted, smiling.
William continued.
“So if it isn’t the village or the government who then sent you to me, Naomi?”
Naomi eyed the floor warily, shamefully and mumbled,”Mr. Davenport pays me.”
William smiled at his own ingenious.
“I kind of figured as much, Naomi. And if you don’t mind me prying again may I ask how much Mr. Davenport pays you, Naomi.”
She smiled. “That is not personal. I am paid five hundred dollars for the night, Mr. William. It is a lot of money. You must be very special. Usually we are not paid quite so much but he asked for the best and the most, so it is five hundred.”
“Well, Naomi, this will be the easiest five hundred dollars you will ever earn.” William filled the Naomi’s glass, watched her drink it, then grabbed her hand, and led her to the door, saying: “You are truly a beautiful woman, Naomi. Good night.” Puzzled to no end, she kissed his cheek and left.
Moments later, William, glass in hand, fell fast asleep.
The flight home held little intrigue. His thoughts repeatedly returning to Alex and his family, who had met him at the airport and showered him with an array of Nigerian gifts. He thought of Alex who, despite being reunited with his family in their new home, had pleaded with him to let him go. After talking at length to him, and his parents, it was decided that William would send for him when the school year was over. And still Alex cried.
William slept most of the flight. Then slept some more after picking up the connecting flight into Atlanta. Melinda was there meet him, looking even better than when he’d last seen her. Casually dressed in red flats, red shorts and a red t-shirt, she was stunning. William couldn’t wait to—She kissed him quickly, but passionately as they waited in line for the customs officials. Passing through, William saw no sign of D.E.A Agent, Terry Shannon.
“Good, trip?” Melinda questioned.
William told her of Alex and his family’s new home as they made their way through the crowded airport to the baggage claim. Melinda offered little to the conversation until William had his bags and they were in the parking lot.
“William, I’m pretty sure someone is tappin’ my phone, which is why I couldn’t really talk after our first conversation.” This latest bit of information, though disturbing, brought a smile to William’s face, which hardly went unnoticed. “You’re involved in international drug smuggling. My phone is being tapped and you’re smilin’. William Stanton, I don’t believe all your bricks are in the wagon.”
“And all the while I’m thinking you’ve found another man and didn’t like me anymore.
They both laughed.
“Shannon thinks it’s the Ol’ Man’s keeping an eye on the Nigerian Holdings, so I think it is in your best interest to explain your sudden decision to increase the profit margin. He may think your tryin’ to skim off the top. You know a liar and a cheat can never trust anyone. You need to explain it to him ASAP. He must have gotten wind of it somehow.”
“When did you notice your phone was being tapped?”
“Well, I kept hearin’ noises in the background and growing up around Jazzy and all his shady dealings, you learn these things. Shannon was nice enough to send a team over to check it out. They confirmed it but couldn’t trace it. I guess that was Wednesday evening.”
“It’s nobody but the Ol’ Man trying to keep abreast.” I mailed him the contract with the two percent increase you calculated for me Wednesday afternoon. That’s his way of staying on top of the situation after he’s given you the freedom to run it your way. He still wants to know what’s going on.
“Why did you increase the amount, William? You could have lost the account.”
“I’ll tell you about it when this whole thing blows over.” Melinda knew better than to ask anymore.
“Where to, Mr. Stanton?”
“A bed and to sleep,” William replied.
“How ‘bout to my house and we find you some place tomorrow?”
“I don’t think that I’ll look to good should we end up in divorce court. Husband caught sleeping with his secretary. By the way, when you get the chance get in touch with your uncle. See if you can’t get Sill’s address. Contact my lawyer as soon as possible; ask him to file for divorce stating irreconcilable differences. Then I want you to find the prettiest white dress you can find that is if you’ll marry his Ol’ Man nine years your senior.”
William pulled out the largest diamond ring Melinda had ever laid her eyes on.
“Oh, William!” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she stared first at William, then at the ring.
“I’ll call Jazzy, tonight.” Melinda giggled.”Oh, William, I’m
so
happy.”
She dropped William at the Radisson Hotel, then made a beeline to Dante’s. Given Sylvia Stanton’s address, she only wished tomorrow wasn’t Sunday.
On Thursday evening of the same week, Sylvia Stanton returned from her run, picked up her mail, dropped it on the living room table and made her way to the shower. She had finally convinced Terrance to move in with her, although it had not been an easy sell. She had appealed to him in every conceivable way but was convinced that his final decision to sublet his own townhouse and move in with her, was not solely because he loved her but for economic reasons. Talk about stubborn. Still, she enjoyed his just being there for her, and was sure she would eventually win him over and make him see the light. No longer did he have to cook or clean for himself. She was at the same time learning to listen and, at least, sound concerned about his day at work, though most of the time she didn’t give a damn. She was there for him, physically, whenever he desired to have her. She tried to keep the relationship new and fresh and made a concerted effort not to wear the same negligee and heels more than once a week. How often had he come home and found her naked, except for the heels he so adored. In addition to taking care of his physical needs, she would run him a hot bath and serve him the dinner of his choice.
She transformed the guest room into a study for him and had a carpenter build shelves on three of the four walls. When she found that he didn’t have quite enough books to stock the shelves, she went on-line and purchased fifteen hundreds dollars worth of books by famous Black authors not in his collection. He had been at his family reunion when she’d come up with the idea and when he returned, she had everything in place. She had even gone so far as to find those God-awful Louis L’Amour westerns he so adored and ordered the leather bound editions that were missing from his set. She had never seen him so happy. And on those days that he retreated into his study, she made it a point, as much as she hated to give him his space and leave him alone. He had been good to her, too. He was finally starting to adjust to the fact that he’d given up his independence and the space that he seemed to value above all else. The only gripe was sexually. It was never enough. Sure, he took care of her in the evenings but when he first moved in that was all they did. Often times she had to—as much as she hated to—tell him no, so bruised was she from their last tryst. It had been wonderful. She had even gotten to the point where she stopped wearing clothes in the house because all she found herself doing was taking them off, then there was the week when she was glad he’d gone to work, so sore was she. But that didn’t work either. Terrance started popping up on his planning periods for a quickie and then rush back to school for his next class. Sill smiled just thinking about it.
Damn,
that man is good. Now only a month or so later, she thought about making a sign the way the homeless, do, saying: ‘Will Work for Sex.’ Well, at least, with his being there, she didn’t have to worry about Laura sneaking around. Besides, Laura was out traipsing across the country, promoting her chain of health spas. By the time she returned, Sill was confident that she’d have Terrance in check.
Terrance wasn’t home from work yet and it had been a good three days since he’d given her any. She thought about making the sign as a joke and greeting him at the door with just the sign and some heels on but thought that, as prudish as he was, he would probably be offended. Since she’d stopped teaching, she had little to do but live for him. Due to walk in the door any minute, Sill wanted to be dressed when he got home. Thursday night was the night they usually went out to dinner.
Sill hated getting in the shower when she was expecting someone. Too many Stephen King movies, she suspected. She grinned at the thought. She had not been this happy in a long time. Peeling off her sweats, she grabbed a towel all in the same motion, pulled back the shower curtain and stepped in. The water was warm and oh, so soothing.
“Terrance, is that you?”
“Yeah, sweetheart. Are you ready to go? I thought we’d do Chinese tonight,” she yelled over the flow of the shower.
“Sounds good to me,” he replied.
“How was your day? The kids didn’t beat my baby up too badly, did they?” she asked, doing her best to sound concerned. There was no reply. Perhaps he didn’t hear me. Before she could repeat the question, the shower curtain flew back. Terrance grabbed her, lifted her dripping body from the shower with one hand, and with the other unbuckled his trousers, letting them fall to his ankles. This was even more than she had bargained for. Picking up her cue, she ripped the buttons from his shirt. Knocking her to the floor, Terrance entered her warm chasm, as he never had before, first plunging, then rising each time witty more force than the time before. Digging deeper with each pounding thrust, he heard her head bang against the porcelain tub. Time and time again, her head bounced off the tub. Ignoring this and feeling the shudder of her body as she climaxed, he grabbed her legs and raised them until her knees touched her face then entered her again, driving himself deeper and deeper inside her now dry canal. God how it hurt, Sylvia thought but that’s what she was there for, to please him. Besides, it’ll be over soon, after the third time, her insides were a mass of mushy, bleeding pulp. She bit her lip to try to conceal the pain. She finally prayed that he would stop.
Alarmed and frightened by this sudden onslaught, her body scarred and torn from the force and roughness of his assault, she couldn’t—wouldn’t endure another second. She screamed: “Stop, Terrance! You’re hurting me!” She was crying now. “Stop it! Terrance Daniels, you’re hurting me. Oh, God! Please make him stop! Dear, God! Please make him stop!”
Then there were the flashes of that horrible night back at Bennett College. “You’re
raping
me, Terrance. You stop it this instant! This is rape! Stop, Terrance! Oh, my God, please make him stop!”
Terrance ignored her cries. And after wrestling with her, for what seemed like an eternity, he was finally able to turn her over, onto her stomach. At which time he entered her again, this time he entered her from behind, until her screams became little more than sobs and her rigid body went limp. When he was finished, he left her like that, her buttocks pointing skyward, her head resting on the bathroom rug, one arm on the tub, the other by her side.
It was some time before he heard the shower waters beating against the bathroom tiles and an even longer time before she was able to limp down the stairs. For the second time in her life, she knew what it was to be forced—
to be raped.
Is this what she’d done to him? Ashamed, she blamed herself. She tried to rationalize his assault. What could she have done to warrant such anger, such hostility? This is how he must have felt our first night together, she surmised. She was confused. How could this be love? Mixed emotions filled her head, clouded her thinking and her judgment. Wrapping a towel around herself, she felt her insides throb in pain. It resembled nothing, she had ever felt before. What she could have possibly done to warrant this? Was he still angry? Whatever it was, she would make up for it. After all, she was trying. She really was trying to be compatible.
Unable to speak, she gazed at the fireplace as if it held the secret to her gaffe. When no revelation descended upon her, she somehow found the strength, despite the pain, to walk into the study. There, Terrance sat in the Lazy Boy she had purchased for him just last week so he would be more comfortable reading or watching the ballgame on television. Distant and detached, he sat, scanning the latest issue of
Newsweek
magazine. She knew she was in hallowed ground and really hated to disturb him by entering his inner sanctum but she was curious to know what she had done to merit such enmity. Afraid to speak, she stood there. Even with the towel draped around her she felt, for the first time, since she had known him, completely exposed
—naked
Embarrassed and humiliated, she turned, prepared to run if she could just bear the sharp, piercing pain long enough to make it out of the room before he could see her naked, vulnerable. But she wasn’t naked. And how could she be vulnerable with a man who loved her, a man she loved and cherished. Still, she would dress. She would feel better then but the throbbing between her legs and down her back was too great and she was reluctant to move. Without so much as looking up to acknowledge her presence, he asked rather nonchalantly: “Are you ready to go?”