Free Fridays (2 page)

“Okay, folks, this party is over! Please, start making your way to the front door.” Linda walked toward the TV, and snatched a plug from the outlet. Her knack for taking control came in handy because Leela had been frozen into inaction by the series of events and how everything had played out.

The screen finally went black.

Leela looked at her mother and mouthed the words, “Thank you,” as she moved toward the stairs. She needed to talk some sense into Samantha.

People seemed reluctant to leave at first. But Linda walked around, removed glasses from hands, and reiterated that it was time to go.

“C'mon, please, see yourselves out,” she said, as she motioned toward the front door. “C'mon, right this way; let's keep it moving.”

Soon, Riley followed her lead, and urged the remaining guests to leave. Once the room was finally cleared, Bill seemed to get lost in the shuffle, because he was nowhere to be found.

•  •  •

The Monday afternoon following the anniversary party fiasco, things had gone from bad to worse quickly.

“Don't do nothing stupid, Dawg,” Riley warned Bill over the phone. “She ain't worth a second in jail. Believe that, Man!” He sighed. “I know you pissed, and you have every right to be, but try to calm down, Dawg.”

This was the kind of shit Riley himself would never put up with. He wore the pants in his house and not a day went by that he didn't let it be known. His buddy Bill was cut from a completely different cloth. Riley felt that Bill allowed his wife to do as she pleased; she dressed any kind of way, and she was far too loud and too damn outspoken. It was no wonder they were in the mess they were in.

But as a good friend, Riley knew he couldn't point those shortcomings out at that moment. His goal now was to try and keep his friend and co-worker out of jail.

“I could kill her, Man,” Bill said. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly, his knuckles changed colors. “I could lose it all. Everything, Man,” he said. Spittle gathered at the corners of Bill's mouth as he pushed the words out angrily.

Riley could feel his pain, but still, he would never be caught up in anything like this. It wasn't just that Bill was a Beta Male; of course that played a role, but Riley felt Bill was just too soft when it came to managing his household.

Riley knew women behaved like they wanted equality, but when it came down to it, all women wanted a man who could put them in their place. They'd never widely admit it because they didn't want to be attacked by feminists, but Riley knew deep down, that was just about every woman's true desire. Riley was the epitome of an Alpha Male.

And Leela was perfect for him because she didn't make much of a fuss about anything. Even when she had her moments, she knew
better than to act out the way Samantha had at that party. Oh no, that would never happen under Riley's watch.

“Aey, Bill?” Riley called into the phone again.

Bill's Hummer screeched to a stop in the circular driveway as he pulled up in front of the house.

“Look, I just made it here, Man. I'ma holler at you later,” Bill huffed. Adrenaline raced through his veins like a NASCAR competitor.

“Bill. Remember what I said, Dawg. Just chill. Don't do nothing stupid.”

If he were in Bill's shoes, this might be the one time he broke his own cardinal rule: never lay hands on a female. Riley didn't want to see his boy go to jail for domestic violence, but this time, Samantha had it coming after all she had done.

“I hear you, Bruh. I hear ya',” Bill said.

He ended the call, barely cut off the ignition, threw his Hummer into park, and hopped out. His heart raced at an uncontrollable rate as he rushed up the three steps in one leap and pulled open the massive, cast-iron and smoked glass double doors. Bill was breathing like a bull when he stormed through the front door and stopped at the foyer.

“Samantha! What the hell? You put that crap on Facebook?!” he yelled as he stepped inside.

His thunderous baritone was filled with rage as it echoed and bounced off the vaulted ceiling and brightly colored walls. With wild, desperate eyes, he searched the room for his wife, then headed to the spiral staircase when he didn't see her.

“Samantha! I know you're here! What the hell were you thinking?!” he yelled up toward the second level of their lavish home. Spittle fanned out in every direction as he fired off his words.

Moments later, Samantha strutted into view. Satisfaction was
written all over her face. “I told you Saturday night that I was just getting started. I guess you thought sneaking outta here, like the true punk you are, was gonna somehow make this all go away. Umph! I knew you was screwing that tramp! I just knew it; I felt it in my gut! Can't deny it now, can you?!” she yelled back from upstairs.

The smirk on her face was unapologetic. With her arms spread on both sides, she swiveled her neck as she leaned over the banister and taunted Bill even more.

“You nasty, cheating dog! Now the whole world knows what a sleaze you are!” Samantha's voice was thick with hatred. She twisted her face and looked down at him with a menacing glare.

Rage tore through every fiber in Bill's body as he looked up at her. He was ready to kill.

His cell phone rang and he considered ignoring the call, but figured he couldn't. Clients had been calling nonstop since the posts went live. With his eyes still glued to his wife, he snatched the phone from his waist, then pulled it up to focus on the screen. It was his boss, Gary Watson. He had to decompress and pull himself together—quickly.

Gary Watson was a grumpy old man who ruled his family-owned finance firm with a hawk-like eye that rarely missed a thing.

“Hello?” Bill struggled to calm himself. He had to handle Gary just right.

“Bill. We're all very concerned about these social media postings,” Gary said.

“Yes, Mister Watson. This is all just a big misunderstanding. Kelly and I are—”

“The board has decided to launch an investigation,” Gary said firmly, cutting Bill off. “We're placing you on leave pending the outcome.”

“Yes, Sir,” Bill said.

Bill's heart thudded so loudly, he feared his boss would hear it through the phone. It had been bad enough that a house full of people saw the video, but now, with everything prominently on display for the world to see on social media, Bill felt he had no leg to stand on. He'd have to get an attorney to help clean up this mess and hopefully save his job.

“We're in the business of protecting our clients' assets. How does it look to have your inappropriate personal business spread across social media for everyone to see? It's very unprofessional, not to mention irresponsible. We've talked with Ms. Anderson as well. There is a morality clause in your contracts,” he said.

Ms. Anderson was Kelly Anderson, Bill's coworker, and mistress. Bill palmed his forehead as he listened to his boss. But his mind raced with the many ways he could possibly kill his wife with his bare hands.

She had gone too far this time. Seven-figure jobs didn't come along often.

With his eyes closed, he was instantly transported to that moment, nearly two hours earlier, when he was in his office at work. Riley had called and dropped the bombshell.

“Dude. I see you and Sam still at it. I know she's pissed, but damn, Dawg, why she call you out like that, and on Facebook too?”

“What you talking about, Playboy?” Bill had asked coolly. He didn't like the sound of Riley's question. He hated social media sites and used them only for business and networking purposes.

“Oh, snap! You ain't seen that shit yet?!” Riley yelled. “See, this is why you need to have more control over your woman and what she does.”

Bill's features fell into a concentrated frown.

“I wish Leela would show her ass like that, Man,” Riley added.

As he talked, Bill used trembling fingers, and pulled up his Facebook page.

“Shiiit. That's what's wrong with women; they make emotional moves and screw it up for everybody,” Riley said.

Heat crawled up Bill's shoulders and slithered up his neck to his hairline, as his mind conjured up all sorts of thoughts. He had avoided home since Samantha pulled her stunt Saturday night. Bill thought it was best he stay away to try and give things a chance to calm down.

“Oh, I'd tap that ass for sure,” Riley continued.

The moment Bill's eyes connected with the images, and the lewd descriptions beneath each one, he began to hyperventilate.

“Wwh-hat the fu—”

“That's what I said,” Riley commented. “Dawg, that video was enough. Besides, how she get all that on you? I told you about being sloppy, Man.”

Bill wanted to cry like a newborn denied food. His Facebook account was designed to share finance-related news with his clients. His bosses insisted they needed to be active and visible on all social media platforms. Bill was reluctant, but fell in line after Samantha agreed to manage the pages for him. He knew very little about social media and never cared to learn. Now, that decision had come back to bite him in the butt.

“Let me guess, you probably don't know the first thing about pulling that mess down, huh?” Riley said.

“She handles all of that; I just pulled up the page and of course all this crap is right here for anyone to see.”

“Damn, that means she has your settings on public.”

Bill shook that disastrous thought from his head. He needed to deal with the current crisis that threatened to ruin him both professionally and financially. When his boss finished reciting clauses
in the contract, he wanted to wrap up the call so he could deal with Samantha's evil behind.

“This is very concerning,” Mr. Watson repeated.

“Okay, Mr. Watson. I understand and I appreciate the call. I assure you, I'm going to straighten this thing out right away,” Bill said. His voice lacked the usual confidence that he'd been known to possess in the past.

No sooner had he ended the call, than pieces of his clothing came falling down like thick raindrops from the second floor.

“Go back and stay with Kelly, since you two can't seem to keep your hands off each other!” Samantha yelled as she tossed boxer briefs, neckties, and slacks over the banister.

“Are you crazy? I may have lost my damn job behind your dumb ass!” Bill yelled. “If I lose my job, Samantha—”

“You oughta be glad you didn't lose your damn life!”

“After the stunt you pulled at the party, you posted that mess on Facebook? You need to remove that crap now! What the hell, Samantha?! I was trying to give you some time to calm down. All you had to do was call me,” he said.

“Call you! Why? So you could lie and weasel your way out of it? Oh, no. I think posting the hotel receipts, pictures of you and your cheating tramp sneaking into the room, and copies of your sleazy emails for everyone to see was definitely the right move.” Samantha tossed a few pairs of shoes over the banister.

“Oh. And I ain't removing a damn thing!” She breathed heavily as she mustered up the strength to toss even more of his items over the banister.

“Your ass don' gone ape-shit crazy for real!” Bill said.

“Get out! Get the hell out! I'm tired and I want you gone!” Samantha screamed. “Go back to wherever you were and don't bother coming back here!”

From Bill's vantage point, his wife looked like a madwoman. Her weave was strewn all over her head, wild and untamable. Her face was streaked with traces of dried makeup and she wore nothing but a slip dress.

They'd been having major problems from the moment Samantha found out he and Kelly were working together a year and a half ago. Bill had done everything he could to convince his wife that there was nothing going on between him and the sexy vixen.

And at first, there wasn't. But his wife's constant nagging, and a sudden burst of attention from Kelly herself, had led to his current situation.

That, and the fact that Kelly Anderson was too much for Bill to resist. Kelly didn't walk; she sashayed in all her designer-clad glory. Her tight skirts, eye-catching blouses, and her pouty lips that formed a perfect “O,” when she was amused, only added to her mystique. Her false lashes, glossy lips, and dangerous curves left him weak; he fell for her hard. He thought he was being careful, had covered his tracks, and taken all of the necessary precautions, but it was obvious he hadn't; they hadn't.

“Get the fuck out!” Samantha yelled.

Before he could agree, bottles of after-shave, cologne, and shampoo came flying over the banister.

Bill used his arms to cover his head as he darted toward the corner for cover.

“You don' lost your mind!”

“Get the fuck out!” Samantha screamed.

“You're gonna regret this shit, Sam! Mark my words; my word is bond. I swear to you,” Bill said.

L
eela had wiped the exact same spot on the granite countertop more times than she could count. For the better part of the evening, she'd been crying uncontrollably. She knew she needed to snap out of it. But despite her best efforts, her mind was overrun with thoughts of Samantha's life without Bill.

She felt odd knowing her best friend's husband had been cheating. What would become of Samantha now that Bill was gone?

“You still there?” Samantha asked.

“Sorry; yes, girl. Where's Bill?”

“I don't know and I don't give a damn! I'm sick of this game. I hope it was all worth it to him.”

As Samantha went on about how she looked forward to being rid of her husband, Leela thought back to happier times. She and her husband double-dated with Samantha and Bill; they had gone on family cruises with Big Mama and Pah-pah; vacationed together; and for all Leela knew, all of their marriages were on solid ground. Well, at least hers and Big Mama's were.