Lover Man Page 4

  “Oh, Geneva, please don’t start sounding like my mother,” Crystal lamented. “I’m telling you this feels too good to ignore!”

  Geneva leaned in again; her face held a wicked smile. “Are you sure you’re not in it for the money?”

  Crystal would admit she’d questioned herself about it. Claude was very well off and he’d been showering her with gifts from the first date. The very computer she was teleconferencing on with Geneva was a gift from him. He didn’t mind her working, but he hoped she’d take some time before jumping back into the job market. “Maybe six months?”

  She’d agreed. What was the rush really?

  Crystal had come to the conclusion that even without the money, she would want to spend the rest of her life with A. Claude Justine.

  “No, Geneva, it’s him, not his money.”

  “Okay, so it’s been, what, three months now? I’m assuming you’ve told Neville.”

  It was Crystal’s turn to lean back into her chair. Yes, she’d told him, and it had been one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do.

  Neville revealed that he’d suspected she’d been seeing someone. Her demeanor toward him had changed and their lovemaking had come to a halt.

  “In a perfect world our relationship would work,” he’d mumbled into her neck as he embraced her. “But this is not a perfect world.”

  Crystal had bawled like a baby against his chest. She didn’t know why she felt so sad, but she did. It was like someone close to her had died. “I love you, Crystal, and I want you to be happy whether it’s with me or someone else.”

  Those very words told her why she felt so sad. Neville was a genuinely good and kind person who loved her unconditionally, and even though he wouldn’t admit it, Crystal knew that she and Javid leaving him was tearing him up inside.

  “This man, this Claude, is he a good man?” Neville asked after Crystal’s waterworks came to an end. She nodded her head yes.

  “I would like to meet him, if you don’t mind.”

  “Yes, of course, Neville.”

  The five of them—Neville, Claude, Kayla, Javid, and her-self—came together at Brock’s restaurant on the waterfront for brunch. Crystal had been extremely nervous about the gathering, but in the end, the two men had been civil to each other, conversing in low, even tones and actually sharing a few laughs.

  “Wow,” Geneva mused after Crystal had described the meeting. “At some point you better sit down and write a book about your life.” She laughed and then said, “Ooh-ooh, maybe you could send your life story to Shenelody Miller.”

  “Sha-who?”

  “Shenelody Miller, she’s this writer that just tells it like it is.” Geneva reached for one of the books on the desk and held it up to the screen. “See.”

  Crystal squinted at the book jacket, which was stark white with one word at its center written in dark red letters.

  “Does that say what I think it says, Geneva?”

  Geneva flipped the book around and read the title aloud, “Cunt.”

  “Geneva, who the hell titles a book Cunt? And furthermore, what kind of mess are you reading these days?”

  Geneva’s eyes were sparkling. “Girl, you missing out. Shenelody Miller is writing the real deal. Maybe when you get here we can go see her.”

  “See her? Do you know her, Geneva?”

  “I mean, you know, at one of her book signings. She’s supposed to be coming to Manhattan, to the Roseland Ballroom.”

  “Yeah, okay, Geneva, whatever you say. Listen, I’ve got to go, Javid will be waking up from his nap soon and we’ve got some errands to run.”

  “Okay, girl, so I’ll see you in two weeks?”

  “Two weeks!”

  11

  Karma sat staring at the blinking cursor on her computer screen. She surmised that she’d been staring at it for more than twenty minutes when her private line began to ring.

  “Karma Jackson.”

  “I don’t know when I’ll get used to that name,” Geneva said.

  “Well, you better get used to it, because that’s who I am now.” Karma laughed.

  “So how’s the job going?”

  “I’m bored to tears.”

  “Not with the money though?”

  “No, certainly not with the money. So we still on tonight?”

  “Yes, now where’s this place again?”

  “Bedford and Hancock. Right on the corner.”

  “Oh, um, okay.” Geneva sounded unsure.

  “You’ve been living in Brooklyn for nearly three months and you still don’t know your neighborhood?”

  “Well, technically, Miss Smarty Pants, Bedford Avenue is not my neighborhood.”

  “Okay, Geneva, don’t get nasty. Just jump in a cab.”

  “That was my intention. Anyway, did you finally connect with Seneca?”

  “Yeah, she was a little wishy-washy on whether or not she was going to show up tonight.”

  “You two still haven’t seen each other?”

  “No, every time we set a date—not unlike someone else I know—she cancels.”

  “I caught that slight. I told you I’m still unpacking and just—”

  “Scared to leave your house after dark, I know.”

  “You don’t understand, girl, this Brooklyn!”

  “I lived in Brooklyn most of my adult life and never had a problem, Geneva. You really need to stop that nonsense.”

  “It’s not nonsense, girl, this shit is real. These people, these Brooklynites, they can tell when you’re not from here and then—”

  Karma was laughing. “Stop it, Geneva, you sound like some paranoid old hag! You’re killing me. Just stop!”

  “Okay, no one believes me.”

  “See you tonight. Eight o’clock sharp.”

  Karma hung up the phone and sighed as she looked around her sunny, glass-enclosed office.

  The New York skyline was at her back, but she spent most of her day watching the busy traffic of people that scurried up and down the corridor outside her glass cage.

  She was one of two black assistants, the rest were what she lovingly referred to as the Beckys. White, Ivy League college degree holders who really had no desire to become the high-powered lawyers, investment bankers, or stockbrokers that their parents had hoped they’d become when they paid those hefty tuition bills.

  These girls, these Beckys, were just a notch above the sports and entertainment flunkies that hung around locker rooms and stage-door exits hoping to snag an athlete, actor, or musician for their very own.

  The Beckys secured jobs at Fortune 500 companies that had client lists made up of some of the wealthiest people in the world.

  If all else failed and they were unable to connect with one of the clients, they jiggled their firm young breasts in the direction of one of the company vice presidents, managing directors, or at the very least one of the promising analysts.

  From the talk Karma had heard in the cafeteria, there’d been at least ten employee-to-employee weddings that year alone and it was only June.

  Karma’s office line began to buzz.

  “Arnold Lieberman’s office, how can I help?”

  “Karma, Arnie here. Listen, cancel all of my appointments, I have a very important client coming in at two and I want to be able to give him my full attention for as long as he needs it.”

  Karma rolled her eyes. She was due to leave at seven. If this was going to be one of her boss’s infamous marathon meetings, she was going to have to call Geneva and Seneca to cancel.

  Arnie would want her to be there just in case he needed her for something important, like bringing in a couple of bottles of water just so his client could see what a babe he had for an assistant.

  She looked down at the list of specifics Arnie had rattled off to her and for some reason she circled the name of the potential client, twice.

  A.J.

  • • •

  “Sorry I’m late,” Karma said as she rushed toward Geneva, wh
o was seated at a small table toward the back of the restaurant.

  Geneva looked up from her menu and stared blankly at Karma.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Karma said, jutting her hip out in frustration.

  Geneva suddenly snapped to life. “Oh shit!” she said, and then slapped her hands to her mouth. “I didn’t know who the hell you were!”

  Karma pulled out a chair and sat down. “C’mon now, I sent you like a gazillion pictures of me.”

  “Yeah.” Geneva’s voice was filled with wonder. “Via cell phone. And I’ve got to say they really didn’t do you any justice. Girl, you look like Jennifer Hudson, just a few pounds lighter!”

  “Well,” Karma beamed as she dropped her napkin down into her lap, “thank you.”

  The two smiled at each other.

  “Well, aren’t you going to pay me the same compliment?” Geneva said, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

  Karma laughed. “You look fabulous, girl, simply fabulous!”

  “Thanks,” Geneva said, stretching her spine and sliding her hands down the sides of her torso. “I have lost a few pounds.”

  “Yes, I can see that you have,” Karma lied. Geneva actually looked as if she’d put on a few pounds.

  “So is your friend coming?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s not worry about her and just order. If she shows, she shows.”

  Halfway through the appetizer of codfish cakes, Karma looked up and saw Seneca peering through the plate-glass window. “Oh, there she is,” she managed to mutter through her full mouth.

  Seneca had been waiting outside of the restaurant for nearly ten minutes. From where she stood she could clearly see all of the diners, and no one in there looked like Mildred … or Karma, as she was calling herself these days.

  Every time they spoke and Seneca asked what the name change was all about, Karma would just say: “When I see you, I’ll tell you all about it.”

  “I know I shouldn’t have come,” she grumbled to herself before digging into her handbag and pulling out her cell phone. She angrily jabbed at the small buttons until Karma’s name popped up on the screen, then she pressed talk.

  Inside the restaurant, Karma’s cell phone went off. She looked at the screen and gave Geneva a mischievous wink.

  “Hey, girl, where are you?”

  “I’m standing outside the damn restaurant … been here since forever, where the hell are you?”

  Karma muffled her laugh. “I’m inside the restaurant.”

  Karma and Geneva watched as Seneca swung around and double-checked the restaurant’s marquee. “Le Turk, right?”

  “Yep,” Geneva replied.

  Seneca then peered through the restaurant window again. “I don’t see you, girl, and ain’t but eight or ten people in the entire place.”

  “I see you though.”

  “C’mon now, is this a joke?”

  “No, it’s not, you have on a red jump suit and your tits are bigger than I remember them, did you get a boob job?”

  Seneca’s eyes bulged.

  “Hey, girl, I’m right over here,” Karma sang gaily into the phone as she raised her hand and waved.

  “Get the fu—”

  The call suddenly dropped, cutting off Seneca’s surprised response.

  In three seconds, Seneca was through the door and standing over Karma. She leaned in, their noses millimeters apart. “Mildred, is that really you?”

  “No, Seneca,” Mildred said, coming to a standing position. “Mildred is dead. I’m Karma.” She threw her arms around Seneca’s shoulders. “I sure have missed you!”

  When they broke their embrace Seneca just stood staring at her. “I don’t believe it. I just don’t believe it … You’re … you’re pretty!”

  Karma’s eyebrows arched. Pretty, she knew, was an understatement. “Thanks.”

  “Hi, I’m Geneva,” Geneva suddenly spouted.

  “Yeah, nice to meet you,” Seneca said, without looking in Geneva’s direction. She couldn’t seem to pull her eyes away from Karma.

  “How … what … ?” Seneca couldn’t gather her thoughts long enough to push out an intelligent question.

  “It’s a long story. Why don’t we get you a drink and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  12

  Crystal and Javid strolled out onto the busy sidewalk outside the international arrivals terminal of JFK airport. Claude rushed toward them, scooping Javid up into his arms and giving them both a tight squeeze. “Welcome home, family!” he said as he took Crystal by the hand and led them toward the waiting limousine.

  Once inside, he handed Crystal a glass of champagne and Javid a sippy cup filled with orange juice. They toasted.

  “Where’s Kayla?”

  “Oh, she’s home with Elvie.”

  Elvie was the Dominican nanny whom he’d hired after his wife died.

  “Oh,” Crystal said as she turned and looked out the window at the passing scenery. Even under the bright summer sun, the New York day seemed a little lackluster.

  As if reading her mind, Claude reached over and touched Crystal’s knee and said, “I know it’s not Antigua.”

  Crystal nodded her head; she didn’t know where the lump in her throat had suddenly come from. She’d been excited the whole plane ride, and the thought of seeing her mother and her friends and being with Claude just added another level of joy. But now that she was there, smack dab in the middle of her new reality, she suddenly felt unsure about the decision she’d committed herself to.

  Pulling Javid onto her lap, she pointed out the window toward the colorful kites that bobbed and weaved in the air to the left of the Belt Parkway.

  “See Javid? Kites!”

  “Kites, kites!” Javid squealed as he happily clapped his hands.

  “Look! ” he screamed excitedly as the expanse of the Verrazano Bridge loomed before them. “I’m scared, Mommy. Monster?”

  “No, Javid.” Claude spoke softly. “That’s not a monster, that’s a bridge.”

  Javid trembled in Crystal’s lap as the limo moved swiftly across the bridge’s upper level.

  Forty minutes later the car pulled up to a cream-colored Victorian that stood three stories high.

  Elvie, the petit, rosy-faced Dominican, met them at the door. Kayla was at her side. “Welcome, Miss Crystal, welcome.” She smiled, giving Crystal’s hand a hard shake.

  “This is Elvie,” Claude advised, “she keeps things together here.”

  “So nice to meet you.” Crystal beamed as she stepped into the massive foyer. “Oh my God, this place is huge.”

  “Yeah, it’s nice, but remember it’s only temporary.”

  Crystal nodded her head. Claude had informed her that he had started building his dream house in a town farther south of Plain-field. “We should be out of here in less than a year.”

  “Come, Javid,” Kayla squealed as she took hold of Javid’s hand, “let me show you your room.”

  Crystal was as nervous as a virgin on prom night. She knew she’d been in the bathroom longer than necessary, but she just couldn’t bring herself to walk into the room and climb into bed with Claude.

  She felt scared to death that she might disappoint him. And what if he disappointed her? She didn’t care what the hell the experts said about love, in her book if the sex failed, everything else would follow.

  “Crystal, everything okay in there?”

  “Yes. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  She looked at herself in the mirror again. Checked her hair and her teeth and hastily blew her breath into her cupped palms. Everything was perfect. She’d even douched and now she smelled springtime fresh down between her legs.

  She clicked off the bathroom light and took a hesitant step into the bedroom.

  Claude was stretched out on the king-size bed, dressed only in a pair of black and white striped silk boxers. Tea lights twinkled from every flat surface of the room and Luther Vandross serenaded them from the hidden wall speakers.

>   Claude sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stared at her. “You look so beautiful.”

  Crystal dropped her eyes demurely and uttered, “Thank you,” in a small voice.

  She did look beautiful, decked out in a body-hugging, silver fishtailed silk nightgown.

  “Come here,” he said, extending his hand.

  Crystal floated to him.

  He pulled her down beside him. “You know,” he started, taking both of her hands into his, “if you want to wait a little longer, I’m willing to do that. I’m willing to wait for as long as you need me to.”

  Crystal’s heart swelled with all the love she had for him. She squeezed his hands. “We’ve waited long enough.”

  They kissed passionately, exploring each other’s mouths with their tongues. Claude kissed her neck, tickled the inside of her ears with his tongue before gently pushing her backward and down onto the bed.

  “Oh, Claude,” she moaned, when he’d freed her breasts from the material and took them into his mouth.

  Crystal slipped her hand beneath the waistband of his shorts and grabbed hold of his throbbing penis. She felt her breath catch in her throat.

  Claude slipped the gown from her body, hurriedly shrugged off his shorts, and straddled her.

  She looked down and saw his cock; it was long and thick and it seemed to vibrate with excitement.

  Claude covered her body in kisses, dropping ever lower, lower, finally taking hold of the lace edges of her thong between his teeth and slipping it off.

  He pleasured her then. Licking her clit like an ice pop until she grabbed his hair and begged him to stop. “I want you inside of me, Claude,” she whispered hoarsely.

  Claude reached over to the nightstand and retrieved a condom.

  He kissed her again, a long languishing kiss that took her breath away, and as he kissed her, he pushed the tip of himself inside of her.

  “Oooh, oooh,” she moaned, grabbing hold of his shoulders.

  He slid in, deeper and deeper still, so deep that Crystal felt that they had become one and the same.

  Raising himself up onto his hands, he began to stroke, long even strokes that sent waves of pleasure throughout both of their bodies.