Circles the Trilogy (Secrets and Lies) (2 page)

As we wrap up our little meeting and ri
se to see Mrs. Bryant to the door I ask, “Will I get to meet with the planner?” I have no idea why I ask or what I expect as an answer, but my mother, Mrs. Bryant, and my sister stare at me for a second. They give me a look as if they were saying,
“Why on earth would you want to do that?”

Mrs. Bryant wraps
an arm around my waist and leans in close as if she is about to reveal a very important secret and says, “Oh no darling, not this time. All you have to do is show up with my Daryn looking beautiful. We’ll do the rest. You’ll have enough to do once the wedding planning starts.”

“Oh, okay. I see.”
I really don’t see. We reach the foyer of my parents’ home and Mrs. Bryant removes her hand. A long breath escapes that I had not realized I’d been holding.

Mrs. Bryant sashays
toward the door, but before leaving she throws this tidbit over her shoulder, “Oh by the way, Sasha…”
This can’t be good. She didn’t call me darling,
“… my personal trainer will be in touch next week. He’ll work out the training schedule you’ll have from now until the big day. You have a beautiful figure darling, but it takes a certain kind of shape to fit into a
designer
gown.” Then without another word, she disappears through the front door leaving me standing there with my mouth gaping open at her last comment.

I turn
to my mother and Saleena wanting them to defend me but all I get from Saleena is a smug smirk that I want to slap right off her face. She is tall and thin and could probably be a model if she didn’t abhor work of any kind.

My mother
is no better when I look to her for support. She has the nerve to say, “Maybe it’ll do you some good to meet with a trainer, sweetheart. You know how stress can cause overeating. This way you’ll stay on top of it. It’s more preventative. She wasn’t saying you’re fat.”

I let out a huff. No doubt it had been the idea of Daryn and his mother for me to meet with the perso
nal trainer. He often complains that, though my butt was perfect, it could stand to be smaller. He says that my butt may be acceptable in the world of thugs and music videos, but being on his arm would require something that draws less attention. I’ve always shrugged it off since he never seemed to be serious, but now thinking back on it I should’ve known better.

Angry
at the turn of events, I excuse myself. I grab my purse, fling it over my shoulder and stomp to my car. I need to get out of this house before I say something to disrespect my mother. She loathes cursing and I am on the verge of making my objections known with the use of some flowery four-letter words. I need Neesa…now!

I wheel
my all black Mini Cooper Coupe – a car that everyone hates I bought because it wasn’t the luxury vehicle they expected – into the parking garage of my building. I grab my things from my car and proceed to back elevator, deciding to avoid the lobby. When I open the door to my apartment, the door slams against the wall, making Neesa run in from the kitchen.

“What in the hell…
?” Neesa takes in the pissed off look on my face. She immediately calms down and gives me a knowing smile. “That bad, huh?”

I throw down my purse and a lipstick
and fruit bar tumble to the floor. I then kick off my heels and proceed to flop face-first down onto the couch, allowing the cushions to stifle my frustrated scream. Neesa walks over to the adjacent chair and props her feet on the ottoman waiting for me to get through my little tantrum and tell her what happened.

“I can’t
believe that woman!” I say turning over to my back. “Everything was going just fine. We discussed, well they discussed, the engagement party and I listened obediently. I even let her force me into an appointment with some designer - which I’ve volunteered you to go to as well. Then…” I sit up so Neesa can see the fury in my eyes. “…then the woman has the nerve to tell me that I’ll be meeting with her personal trainer starting next week and all the way up until the wedding! She had the nerve to tell me that although my body is ‘beautiful’, but it takes a certain kind of figure to wear a designer dress! What kind of fucking shit is that?!” I say throwing up air quotes as I mimic the sound of Ella’s superior sounding voice.

Neesa laugh
s at me. She knows I am mad because I usually don’t start cussing until someone has pissed me off or I have had too much to drink.

“Are you laughing at me? I can’t
believe you think this is funny. We go to the gym all of the time. What the hell?!”

Still laughing N
eesa says, “No Sasha, I’m not laughing at you! You know how you sound when you try to cuss. It’s funny. Anyway… why would she suggest something like that? I mean what would give her the idea that you need a personal trainer?”

“Ha! Suggest? You think she suggested it? Not at all! Oh my God, I can’t believe him. I know he did this! He knows I won’t say no to his mother.” I rise up off the couch and plow toward the kitchen. I grab a half-full bottle of champagne and poor some of it into a glass. Neesa follows closely behind watching me with wide eyes as she waits for me to elaborate on my statement. I tilt the bottle toward her to offer her some. She shakes her head. I down the first glass and pour another before I continue. “Remember I told you that Daryn and I sort of joke about my butt. I told you he says I have too much
in my rear area for his tastes. Well that wasn’t a joke, at least not on his part. I know this was his idea. I know it! He really thinks my ass is too big.” I down another glass and pour another.

By now, Neesa is doubled over laughing hysterically.
“You have got to be joking, Sasha. No black man in his right mind would complain about something like a perfectly rounded ass. You have to be mistaken. Come on. You have the perfect hourglass figure and I wish I had your ass.”

I shake my head, feeling a lit
tle dizzy from the champagne I’ve drunk so quickly. “Neesa, I’m telling you the truth. He told me himself. I thought he wasn’t serious about it, but now that I think back on the conversation… I’m
sure
he was serious.”

“Okay so what if he did ask his mother to get you a personal trainer? What do you plan to do about it?”
Neesa asks leaning her elbows on the counter.

I quickly abandon my rant. Neesa is right. Though she didn’t say it, she knows I
won’t say anything to Daryn. She knows I’ll go to the trainer and indulge the guy as he tries to shrink my ass to an ‘appropriate’ size.

“Nothing, I guess. I’m just offended that he used his mother to do his dirty work.” I take another sip from my glass and look over to Neesa whose expression has turned sympathetic. She
doesn’t really like Daryn and doesn’t agree with the reasons why I’ve agreed to marry him, but she is my closest friend. She may not agree, but she understands my reasoning and she understands me. She only wants me to be happy and as much as I tell her that one day Daryn will make me happy, she is skeptical. She is adamant that happiness should not have to develop over time. She is convinced that a couple needs to be happy prior to starting their life together.

I’m happy, I really am.
At least that’s what I keep telling myself.
I just don’t think that my happiness has anything to do with Daryn Bryant’s involvement in my life.

Neesa hugs me. “Let’s not worry about fiancées or mothers tonight. We’re going out. And I guarantee that your slim waist and big ass will be a welcome sight.” I look at her confused. She knows I don’t go out regularly.
As a matter of fact, I don’t go out at all. I didn’t even go out in college. “I’m not taking no for an answer,” she says. “We’re celebrating my promotion. Your best friend has just been promoted to a permanent position in A & R at the label. Tonight we’ll be hanging out in the VIP room of The Club. I have to go listen to a couple acts and you need to go have some fun.”

I
don’t know if it is the three glasses of champagne or the frustrating day I’ve had, but I nod. I know Daryn will have a cow if he finds out that I’ve been out clubbing, but he’ll get over it. I need this. I’m always available to smile and nod at every stupid dinner party or work event of his, so why can’t I have a little fun of my own with my best friend. Pretty soon, I’ll be Mrs. Sasha Bryant and places like The Club will be absolutely forbidden. I may as well indulge while I can.

“Okay.
But I have nothing to wear to a club, let alone
The
Club. I may not go out, but I know that The Club is the hottest new club in Atlanta. I don’t think they’d appreciate me showing up in my wrap dress and cardigan or even one of my cutesy pencil skirts.” I laugh at myself. I’m only twenty-eight, with a great figure, but I don’t own one outfit for going out.

“I’ll fix that. Come on, juic
y booty,” Neesa says on a giggle. “We’re heading to Phipp’s Plaza. I’ll show you that great designers make more than just pants suits and wrap dresses.”

***

Hours after our little shopping excursion I’m standing in front of the full-length mirror inside my closet. I still can’t believe the way I look. I’m wearing the sexiest and shortest dress I’ve ever worn and it feels great. The form-fitting Hervé Léger red dress has banded details that enhance my curvy bottom and narrow waist. My back and arms are completely exposed. And the dress stops just above my mid-thigh area, making my legs look long and lean. “Hmph! I got your personal trainer, Daryn!” I say to my reflection.

I exit my room with my shoes and clutch in hand. Neesa is already waiting in a shimmery gold number that emphasizes her
size zero petite body and golden skin. She is drop dead gorgeous and ready to be the center of attention in a pair of six-inch red heels and long flowing beachy waves that reach to the crack of her butt. “You ready?” she asks, though after seeing her, I don’t know if I’m ready. Standing next to her, I probably look like a librarian though my attire is just as sexy as hers is. I guess it’s the way she carries herself. She is every bit the confident sex kitten. No wonder she snagged that A & R position after only two years of being the Head of A & R’s assistant – she is so sure of herself.

“Um, I’m not so sure. Do you think I should’ve put my hair up?” I ask as I pull at the hem of my dress. Neesa slaps my hand away.

“This is not some stuffy society event, Sasha. Men like long hair and they like seeing it down. They like the idea that maybe you’ll let them run their fingers through it and let them pull on it during some mind-blowing sex,” she says with a giggle.

I know my face has turned the same color of red as my dress
after her comment. Neesa is never afraid to voice her opinions on sex. I on the other hand, have been told that your exploits in the bedroom are private and not to be discussed at all. Not even with your partner. Daryn and I are not strangers to the bedroom, but we conduct out sex lives much like our regular lives. It’s pretty calm, conservative, and without much spontaneity. There are no crazy positions or sweaty bodies. Really, it’s just me making sure that Daryn gets off and if I do before he does then that’s great. If I don’t, then better luck next time. There are no multiple orgasms or warm embraces afterwards. Though the one exception is that he wants oral sex on a regular basis. He doesn’t give it, he only receives it. It’s a weird sort of thing.

Another weird sort of thing is that Daryn doesn’t like the smell of sex all over him when he sleeps so he insists that we take a shower and change the sheets after.  I hear Neesa talking about her exploits and I think that she must be exaggerating so I mostly ignore her. No one has sex like the kind she describes. No one. There is no way that my sex life is that much different from anyone else’s, though I guess it would be hard for me to know, since Daryn was my first and only.

I slip on my shoes and fluff out my curls that look like I’ve just stepped off a Victoria’s Secret ad and we head out the door. I’m not sure what to expect, but I’m sure that Neesa will make sure I have a good time.

***

I see that The Club has a line wrapped around the building as we approach the entrance.
Skipping the line, we walk straight up to a large bouncer at the front door and we pass through unhindered. Neesa seems to know where she is going as she winds her way through the wall-to-wall bodies and leads us across the dance floor to where there is another large member of security dressed in black. He greets her by name and after she whispers something to him, he chuckles, looks at me, and then says something back to Neesa. They both laugh and he allows us to pass.

“What did you say to him?”

“I told him that to treat you right since you’re a club virgin,” she says as she shakes her hips up the steps to the VIP lounge.

“Oh. So why did he look at me like that?”

“He said that the club wasn’t the only thing that seemed virginal about you.”

“WHAT
!? How can anyone say that with me in
this
dress?” I wave my hand across my body as if that should say it all, but Neesa shakes her head.

“Sasha, you have to loosen up a little. Right now
, you look hot, but that dress is wearing you.
You
have to wear that dress or you’ll start to look like a little girl trying to play dress up. Come on. Let’s get a few drinks in you and follow my lead.”

Knowing Neesa was right about her assessment,
I decide to take my friend’s advice. I need to loosen up and enjoy myself. I need to convey how the dress makes me feel. The dress makes me feel sexy and confident so I need to act that way. Not that I am trying to catch a man, but it would be nice to know that I can. I close my eyes and draw in a deep breath. When I reopen them, I straighten my back follow Neesa across the room, swaying my hips in a way that I know will draw attention. I am not about to embarrass my friend or myself by looking like some scared schoolgirl.

“Aneesa…my girl!
It’s about time you showed up,” a deep raspy voice says from across the room. I can’t tell which of the guys the sound comes from, since there are several, but I can feel myself getting nervous. The sexy voice is deep and intimidating.
And familiar. So familiar.

Nee
sa must sense my nervousness because she grabs my hand and pulls me along with her. She stops in front of the group who are standing by the lounge’s private bar and doles out hugs to all of them. She steps back and sticks a fist on one hip. “You know I’m never on time. Plus, I needed to show my girl how to make an entrance.” She laughs a little and looks at me. She gives me a wink, making me smile. That is probably exactly the reaction she was going for to wipe the dear-in-headlights look off my face.

“Dang, Neesa. I didn’t k
now you roll like that,” Raspy Voice says looking from Neesa to me. I don’t get what he is trying to say, but obviously Neesa does. She rolls her eyes at the man and then gives him an annoyed look.

“Don’t you start that shit with me tonight
, Quinton Ramsey. I am strictly dickly. Remember that!” All the men standing there laugh. The group appears to be very close and Neesa seems comfortable with them, almost like they are her big brothers. They don’t look at her like a piece of meat. Their look is more that of respect for a fellow business associate or like she is their little sister.

“Right, right.
So if this ain’t you, then who do we have here?”

“Quinton Ramsey, this is my best friend Sasha Ellis. Sasha, this is Quinton, better known as Ramsey to the musi
c world. He owns Watch Records and he
thinks
he’s my boss.” Neesa laughs and I laugh along with her. She’s never really mentioned who her boss is; she only calls him her boss so I am surprised when she introduces him as Ramsey, the producer, label owner, and occasional rapper. I may not have recognized his face, but I know the name. Who wouldn’t? The man is a household name in the music business. Even being the conservative person that I am, I know
that
name.