Lover Man Page 7

  “But when you see me you’re going to spread those beautiful legs so I can see up close and personal that luscious cunt of yours?”

  Karma was struck speechless. Had he said what she thought he’d said?

  And how he’d said it!

  She’d never heard luscious and cunt in the same sentence. And shit, did he just cause her to cream herself right there in the middle of the day?

  She could imagine more than feel the wet spot spreading across the linen fabric of her skirt.

  Karma parted her legs, gave a hasty look around to make sure she was truly alone and then quickly pushed her hand beneath her skirt.

  Her fingers came back glistening.

  20

  The tickets, at thirty dollars a pop, included a two-hour lecture and a signed copy of Shenelody Miller’s new book, Moist.

  Crystal was so not in the mood for this, but she’d promised Geneva and besides, they hadn’t really spent much time together since she’d been back in the States.

  The line to get into the Roseland Ballroom wrapped clear around the block.

  Crystal surveyed the crowd, which was made up mostly of women. There was a sprinkling of men; some looked enthusiastic while others kept their heads lowered in shame as they shuffled behind their women.

  Every three feet or so Crystal encountered a posterboard picturing the book and with accolades in bold, black letters.

  “Triumphant!”

  Essence magazine

  “Unabashed honesty!”

  New York Post

  “Raw, sexual truth that will leave you dizzy!”

  New York Times

  Crystal sighed.

  The ballroom was packed and buzzing with excited chatter.

  They followed the usher to the twentieth row of seats.

  “Aw, man,” Geneva complained, “these seats suck! We’re so far from the stage. I won’t be able to see her.”

  Crystal half-listened to Geneva’s complaining until finally there was a tap-tap-tap on the microphone.

  “Can I get your attention, please?”

  A nut-brown, petite woman with wavy silver hair and slanted eyes smiled out over the crowd.

  “Good evening.”

  “Good evening,” the crowd responded in mechanical-sounding unison.

  “I am Saraphine Miller, some of you know me as Mama …”

  Geneva leaned over and whispered in Crystal’s ear, “That’s Shenelody’s mother.”

  “Yes, I think I got that.” Crystal rolled her eyes and whispered back.

  “And Shenelody and I are so happy to be here with you to celebrate the kickoff of her sixth book, Moist!”

  The auditorium broke out in thunderous applause.

  Then Saraphine pumped her small hands up into the air before floating them down to her sides again. The crowd quieted.

  “I want you to know that it is because of YOU,” she exclaimed, extending her arms out toward the crowd, “that Shenelody has already made the New York Times Best Sellers List and the book is still two days from hitting the bookstores!”

  Once again the crowd broke out in thunderous applause, with most of the audience jumping from their seats and shouting, “Woof, woof, woof!”

  “Okay, okay, settle down, queens and kings, settle down,” Mama urged with a proud grin on her face.

  “Now comes the time that you all have been waiting for.” Mama rubbed her hands together. “Please help me welcome my daughter and the writer you made New York Times bestselling author for the third time in a row, Madam Shenelody Miller!”

  The room exploded in applause. The crowd jumped from their seats and began stomping the floor. The noise was so loud, Crystal pressed her palms against her ears.

  Feeling a tapping on her shoulder, she looked up and to her left and her eyes met the menacing ones of a woman with a nose ring and a tattoo of a penis on her cheek. “Stand up and give honor to the Madam,” she ordered.

  Crystal’s eyebrows climbed. Was this woman serious?

  “Stand up!” the woman’s voice echoed above the clamor.

  Crystal shot up from her seat.

  “That’s better.” The woman smiled at her.

  The applause went on for nearly five straight minutes, and when Crystal turned to look at Geneva, her eyes were glazed.

  This was some cult shit if there ever was one. If they started to pass out cups of Kool-Aid, she was out of there!

  “Welcome, my kings and queens,” the soft-spoken woman began.

  “Oh my God, there she is, there she is!” Geneva squealed as she squirmed left and right to get the best view of Shenelody Miller.

  Crystal rubbed her eyes. She was sure now that she needed glasses. First the dark figure under the tree, and now … this?

  “We’ve come a long way together. Most of you have been supporting me since my first self-published book, The Matter Is Dick.”

  More applause and shouts of, “I love you, Shenelody!”

  Crystal rubbed her eyes. Was it really? “Nah, it couldn’t be,” she mumbled to herself before poking Geneva in the side.

  “Shhh, shhh.” Geneva waved her hand at Crystal, her eyes never leaving Shenelody Miller.

  Crystal bit her bottom lip. She needed to be sure. “I gotta pee,” she hissed into Geneva’s ear. A lot of good that did. Geneva was so wrapped up in what the woman was saying she didn’t even react. So Crystal turned her attention to the woman with the penis on her face. “’Scuse me, sister, can I get past, please?”

  The woman gave her a sideways glance. “For what?”

  Crystal remained humble. “I need to get to the ladies’ room.”

  “Can’t it wait? The Madam is speaking.”

  Crystal swallowed hard as she sized Dick Face up. Nah, there was no way she could beat her, and besides, she was sure that she couldn’t count on Geneva to have her back. “No, I can’t. I’m about to burst.”

  Dick Face let out an exasperated sigh and then turned her legs to one side.

  “Thank you, sister, thank you.”

  Crystal pardoned and excused herself past six more people before she stepped out into the aisle, where she was met with a burly female security guard.

  “Hold it, ma’am.” The security guard had a tight grip on Crystal’s shoulder. “You have to remain in the seat you’ve been assigned.”

  “Oh yes, of course, I’m just headed to the ladies’ room,” Crystal said as she tried to wrench herself away from the woman’s grip.

  “That’s at the back of the auditorium and to the left.”

  Crystal looked longingly at the stage. “Oh, is it?”

  The security guard folded her thick arms and glared at Crystal.

  “As most of you know, I started writing these books because my heart had been shattered, no, obliterated by a no-good, low-down, scum-of-the-earth man!”

  The audience applauded. And a few people threw out testimonies:

  “I know that man, girl—I got one just like him!”

  “We all been there, sister!”

  “Preach!”

  “It was my way to cleanse myself, to replenish myself—to take back my dignity and my PUSSY!”

  The crowd leapt to their feet.

  “So I took back my pussy and had to make a decision right then and there as to exactly what type of pussy I had. Did I have thrift-store pussy? Kmart pussy?”

  “I got Nordstrom pussy!”

  “I got Saks Fifth Avenue pussy!”

  “I got slap-your-mama pussy!”

  “Once I decided what class of pussy I had, I knew what market I needed to target!”

  “Sure ’nuff, girl!”

  “Ya’ll understand that when I use the word pussy it represents more than the Eden between our legs, it represents the female mind …”

  “Tell that shit, girl!”

  “Some of us spend more time on our Eden than we do on our minds. We’re waxing, douching, spritzing, using kegel balls to keep it tight; all that mess … all for him
.

  “We got to start giving that same type of attention to our intellect and our spirituality. Those things will serve your man just as well as your pussy!”

  “A men ! ”

  “So many of you sent me letters and e-mails, thanking me for being courageous enough to tell my stories the way I do. And ya’ll always want to know when the next book is coming out … that makes me feel real good.”

  “Your books are like crack, girl!”

  “When you write a book you don’t just put your foot in it, you put in your entire leg!”

  “I wanna thank you for those letters and let you know that it was all of YOU that gave me the courage to continue writing.

  “You shared your personal stories with me and told me what you wanted me to write and I did it, because you are my audience and I am your servant!”

  Thunderous applause.

  “All of these reviews and accolades are not just for me alone, they’re for all of us, you and me, we are one!”

  At that a few diehard fans rushed the stage screaming like they were falling off a building.

  Security caught them by their waists, flung them over their shoulders and carried them to the back of the ballroom.

  “I got a lot of haters out there. Including some writers who are jealous of my success. They tear my books and me apart on the Internet.

  “They say I can’t write, can’t tell a good story. They don’t invite me to their little conferences; they don’t give me any awards.

  “But do you think I let that bother me? No way! I get all of the love and respect I need from you my readers!”

  The walls of the ballroom shook with applause. Crystal felt it like a heartbeat in the floor beneath her feet.

  Crystal, standing at the back of the auditorium, finally unglued herself and walked to the bathroom. She had to admit, this Shenelody woman was a powerful speaker.

  That was some kind of power for one woman to have over so many.

  She was like the Oprah of sex!

  Crystal rubbed her chin. How was she going to get close enough to see if this woman was who Crystal thought she was?

  Walking over to the mirror, she saw that her lipstick had faded away. Digging into her purse, her finger came across the ticket stub. A light went off in her head. “Aha!” Crystal snapped her fingers. All she had to do was be patient. Shenelody Miller would be signing copies of her new book, putting her and Crystal on opposite sides of a table, just inches from each other.

  They’d been standing on line for nearly an hour and Crystal’s feet were beginning to wail. Geneva was all but ignoring her, chatting it up with other Shenelody followers. It was like a massive book club discussion and it seemed as if all the readers knew the novels chapter and verse.

  “My favorite was the chapter about rimming,” Geneva squealed with delight to Dick Face and a set of middle-aged twins with bosoms so high and plump Crystal wanted to slap the plastic surgeon who had installed them.

  “I tried it on my man,” twin number one said. “And I got the Lexus I’d been asking for for two years!”

  Twin number one slapped palms with twin number two.

  “I’m sorry,” Crystal interrupted, “did you say rimming?”

  Crystal had fond memories of being rimmed. But she’d never venture to put her tongue in such a foul place.

  But these women didn’t seem to have a problem with it. In fact, they celebrated it, and Crystal was sure she heard someone a few feet behind her talking about nominating it for a national holiday.

  “She’s never heard of or read Shenelody,” a shamefaced Geneva advised the small circle of women, who in turn looked at Crystal with sympathetic awe.

  “Well, I, I’ve been away,” said a suddenly embarrassed Crystal.

  “Away where, on the friggin’ moon?” Dick Face laughed.

  Crystal dropped her eyes.

  “So go on, sister.” Twin number two turned and addressed Geneva. “You were about to share your story.”

  “Well,” Geneva began with a giggle.

  By the end of Geneva’s recant, Crystal’s mouth hung open in quiet amazement and she and Geneva were just one person away from Shenelody.

  “What?” Geneva cried as she turned to dumbstruck Crystal. “Don’t act like you’ve never done it!”

  “I haven’t!” Crystal cried.

  “Hey,” the twins chimed, “don’t knock it till you’ve tried it!”

  “Miss Miller!” Geneva screamed as she reached across the table and took both of Shenelody’s hands into hers. “I just want you to know that you’ve changed my life and I think you’re the best writer ever!”

  Shenelody squeezed Geneva’s hands. “Thank you so much, queen, I really do appreciate it.”

  “So it is you!” Crystal shouted, pointing a shaky finger at Shenelody.

  Shenelody’s face registered a mild look of surprise. “Crystal? Didn’t know you were a fan.”

  Geneva’s head swung between Crystal and Shenelody. “I thought you didn’t know who she was …” Geneva started and then cocked her head to the side. “You two know each other?”

  “Yes, we do,” Shenelody said coolly and folded her hands beneath her chin. “We’re neighbors.”

  “Neighbors!”

  “Yeah, but she said her name was Shelly!” Crystal boomed in an accusatory tone.

  Shenelody gave her a smug smile. “Shelly is short for Shenelody.”

  21

  You would have thought that Geneva had been invited to Denzel Washington’s dressing room by the way she was behaving.

  Security showed them to the green room, which held three tables heavy with fresh fruits, exotic juices, hors d’oeuvres, and bottles of sparkling water.

  Geneva grabbed a plate and dove in. Crystal had no appetite and slumped down onto one of the overstuffed settees.

  On the wall was a large plasma screen monitor showing a live feed from the ballroom.

  C-SPAN had shown up and was conducting candid interviews with some of the audience members.

  There were three vendors at the back of the ballroom selling Pussy Power T-shirts, coffee mugs and baseball caps.

  Crystal shook her head in amazement. She was actually living next door to a phenomenon.

  “You are soooo lucky!” Geneva managed through her stuffed mouth.

  “Lucky?”

  “Yeah, you live right next door to Shenelody Miller!”

  Crystal shrugged her shoulders.

  “Why didn’t Claude tell you that she lived next door?”

  “Honestly,” Crystal said with a sigh, “I don’t think he knows how famous she is.”

  “How could he not?”

  “Claude is not really interested in his neighbors,” Crystal said, but secretly she did think it odd that he didn’t know.

  “She’s bald. Did you know that?” Crystal announced suddenly. Her tone was filled with spite and she didn’t know why.

  Geneva’s mouth dropped open for a second. “What?”

  “She’s bald.”

  “Get the fuck out of here!” Geneva screamed as she gave Crystal’s shoulder a shove.

  “I’m serious.”

  “Queens?”

  Saraphine. Mama herself had come to collect them.

  “Shenelody will receive you now.”

  Receive? Crystal didn’t know how much more she could take.

  They followed Mama down a corridor, dodging dozens of people with Bluetooth headsets as they rushed past them and off to perform some important Shenelody task.

  There was a guard standing outside of Shenelody’s room. He was tall, wide and menacing. In fact, he could have been Shaq’s twin brother.

  He instructed Geneva and Crystal to open their pocketbooks, which he quickly rifled through before giving their bodies a quick pat down.

  “Hey, hey,” Geneva teased, “I ain’t had none in a while, brother. I can’t be responsible for what I might do if you—”

  “Shut up, Geneva,” Crysta
l hissed.

  Crystal expected opulence, but the space was small and gray. There was a dressing screen in one corner of the room. In the other corner was a table holding six wig heads.

  Crystal shot Geneva the “I told you so” look.

  “Shelly?” Mama called.

  “Yeah, be right out.”

  A moment later Shenelody emerged wrapped in a pink terry-cloth robe with matching slippers.

  Crystal looked over at Geneva and thought for one moment that she was going to fall to her knees. But luckily Mama eased a chair beneath her and said, “Sit down, baby, before you hurt yourself.”

  It was all too dramatic for Crystal.

  “So, Shenelody,” Crystal began, arms folded across her chest. “Funny you didn’t mention what it was you did. I mean, I do believe I asked, if I remember correctly.”

  Shenelody laughed and snatched the curly black wig off her head. Geneva let out a gasp of surprise and slumped backward into the chair.

  “Yes, yes, you did, Crystal, and I believe I said I did a little of this and a little of that.”

  Shenelody gave the wig two hard shakes and then passed it off to her mother. Dragging her hands over the smooth dome, she smiled. “I didn’t lie.”

  Crystal smirked. “Well, why all the secrecy?”

  Shenelody sat down at the small makeup table and turned her attention to her reflection, beginning to remove the fake eyelashes. “I just don’t reveal that part of myself so quickly. You’d be surprised the types of reactions I get from people.”

  “Like what?” Geneva piped as she dragged her chair closer.

  “Well, let’s see. Some people think once you’ve published a book that a Brinks truck has driven up to your house and made a deposit in your cellar. And that’s just not the case for a majority of us writers—”

  “You don’t tell people you’re a writer because you think they’ll want money?” Crystal asked unbelievingly.

  “You’d be surprised,” Shenelody said. “Also, when you tell someone you’re a writer, all of a sudden they’ve got a manuscript they’ve been working on, or better yet, they’ve got a story you can write for them!” Shenelody waved her hand in the air and chuckled.