He's Just A Friend (16 page)

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Authors: Mary B. Morrison

BOOK: He's Just A Friend
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All the men nodded as Byron shook his head.
How rude. Did Darius not see Fancy standing next to Byron?
Darius said, “She's freaky man. Her girlfriends look okay, but they're willing to tag.” Darius's eyebrows shifted upward. As he smiled, all but two of the men left the room.
“Give me a minute. Don't go nowhere. Let me take this call.”
What call? Byron's phone hadn't rung.
“Hello.” Byron paused. He nodded and said, “Yeah, okay. I'm on my way.”
Byron kissed Fancy and said, “Sorry, baby. I've gotta go.” Then he asked Darius, “How long you in town?”
“Until tomorrow. But I'll be here for a minute.”
Byron nodded, then walked ahead of Fancy. “I promise. I'll make it up to you, baby.”
Make up what?
Fancy thought as he drove toward the San Rafael Bridge.
Byron's hand roamed inside her dress and cupped her breast. “Why don't you take care of me, baby?”
Fancy leaned over Byron's lap and eased her lips over his head. She released just enough saliva to lubricate her strokes. Fancy stroked and stroked and sucked and stroked, hoping Byron would stay the night at her place or take her to his.
Byron's cellular phone vibrated. When he lowered his hand, Fancy noticed the caller ID. Home? What the fuck did that mean? Quickly she repeated the number in her mind several times as she deposited Byron's semen into a napkin.
“Hello.” Byron paused. “Yes. Okay, I'll be there as fast as I can.” Byron hung up and plunged his accelerator. The speedometer moved from seventy miles per hour to ninety.
Fancy repeated the number over and over in her mind. There was no need to ask Byron if everything was okay because she knew him well enough to know he wouldn't answer. Fancy scratched her head and said, “Damn, my hair. I completely forgot about my appointment.”
Byron remained silent until they arrived at her apartment, then he said, “Good night, baby. I'll call you.”
Before the doorman closed the door, Byron's tires left clouds of white smoke in the circular driveway.
What the hell just happened?
Fancy thought as she entered her apartment.
“How could you be so stupid?!” Fancy yelled in the mirror at her reflection.
Swish. Swish. Swish!
Her fists chased the July summer night's breeze blowing through the patio screen into her lonely bedroom.
CHAPTER 18
S
aVoy was especially happy because it was Wednesday and she was finally going to see Tyronne. More than a month had passed since her party and since she'd last seen him. After Fancy had given her Desmond's number and Desmond had given SaVoy Tyronne's number, the first time she called him at home, Tyronne had said, “I'm busy. Let me hit you back.” SaVoy remembered thinking,
back when?
But had replied, “Okay.”
Vanessa had told her, “let me hit you, call you, back,” meant whenever, and that she should wait until Tyronne called. Vanessa had said, “Honey, I don't mean wait as in sit by the phone. I mean don't you constantly call him. When a man is seriously interested in a woman, trust me, he'll call. However, there are the TC females out there. Those are the time consumers. Vanessa will tell you how to handle them later. Their strategy is if they can consume all of the man's leisure time, it doesn't matter if he's interested in another woman, he won't have time for her.”
Tyronne had returned SaVoy's call three weeks later.
Vanessa had said, “That's okay, honey, because you're not his woman, so you're not his priority. Don't act like his woman until you are his woman. Don't buy him gifts—birthday, Valentine's, or Christmas—thinking that's going to make him more interested in you. Be yourself, SaVoy. That's always enough.”
SaVoy put on her blue jeans and an orange sweatshirt. She didn't like the look so she changed into a large Raiders T-shirt. Too boyish. SaVoy changed again. The pile of clothes on her bed grew rapidly. Settling on a plain white tapered T-shirt, she kissed her father. “Bye, Papa.”
Why hadn't Tyronne called after the party? Did she do something wrong? If that's how Tyronne was going to treat her, she shouldn't invest so much energy into thinking about him. Maybe SaVoy should forget about Tyronne. But her life needed excitement. Now that school was over, all she did was work and go to church. William still had Tanya on lockdown and Fancy . . . Who knew what she was up to? Maybe SaVoy should start a social club for her church peers in their twenties. Yeah, that was an idea she was sure Pastor Tellings would support. She'd invite the group to her house and organize a planning committee. They could plan a summer trip to Los Angeles or Hawaii.
Time between assisting customers at the grocery store passed slowly. SaVoy still had another hour before Tyronne's scheduled delivery. SaVoy organized her shelves, then glanced at the clock again. Fifteen minutes.
“Hey, what's up?” Desmond said, walking up to the counter.
“I'm surprised but glad to see you here. Thanks for giving me Tyronne's number.” SaVoy smiled.
“You look nice,” Desmond said. “I like the pink frost lip gloss. Nice eyebrows. I see you arched them.”
Oh, good. If Desmond noticed her new look, surely Tyronne would notice the changes she'd made for him.
“Nice French manicure, too. Look, I need a favor. Can you help me apply to law school?” Desmond asked.
“Seriously! That's great. Of course I'll help you.” Finally! Desmond was pursuing his dream. SaVoy felt blessed he'd ask her to help him. “Which schools?”
“I'm not sure. I wanna stay local.”
“Don't limit your options. You're single with no kids. I think you should pursue the Ivy League schools. Have you registered to take the LSAT?”
“I did,” Desmond said, nodding. “I'm scheduled for October.”
“Good. I can assist you with your applications and if you want, I can help you study for the test. Vanessa has a lot of contacts so I'll ask her to help you. And there're lots of lawyers at my church who can give you recommendations.”
“Man, seems like I should've asked sooner. Cool. Look, I gotta run. Can I get your number?”
SaVoy scribbled on the back of a register receipt and handed it to Desmond. She was happy Desmond had stopped by and that he'd helped take her mind off Tyronne. SaVoy picked up the phone and dialed Fancy's work number.
“Thank you for calling Washington and Associates. How may I help you?”
“Hi, may I speak with Fancy Taylor please?” SaVoy gazed out the storefront double glass doors.
“I'm sorry. Ms. Taylor is no longer with the company.”
“What? As of when?”
“Ms. Taylor no longer works here. May I be of assistance?”
“No. Thank you.” SaVoy hung up the phone.
She heard the familiar churning of Tyronne's truck and looked up. He was unloading her inventory. SaVoy pressed her hand against her aching stomach. She removed an
Essence
magazine from under the counter and flipped it open.
“Hey, you. Stop pretending you reading that six-month-old magazine,” Tyronne said, standing with his hand truck in front of the counter.
“Hi.” SaVoy felt her smile widen. She shifted her eyes to the side and took a deep breath. “Guess who stopped by today?”
“If it wasn't me, it doesn't matter.”
SaVoy smiled. “Desmond. He asked me to help him get into law school.”
“It's about time. I been tellin' my boy to do dat for a long time. So can a brother get a hug or what?” Tyronne walked behind the counter and spread his arms wide. He held her close and squeezed her shoulders.
SaVoy laid her head on Tyronne's chest. She was glad, this time, he hadn't thrust his pelvis into her hips. Tyronne held her as though he actually missed her.
“I'm on a tight schedule today. So I'mma stock and run.”
SaVoy watched Tyronne load and unload his cart.
“You wanna go see Antoine Fisher this weekend?” Tyronne asked, heading toward the door.
SaVoy smiled and said, “Sure. I'd like that.”
SaVoy wanted to tell Tyronne she'd met her mother. Her mom was nice and very soft-spoken and had said, “I can't quite explain why I left. I didn't understand it then, and I don't understand it now.” After her mother had abandoned her, she'd decided not to have any more kids. “I feel like a failure. I was a child running away from my child. My baby. At least I picked the right father for you, sweetie.”
SaVoy was glad she'd finally met her mom but didn't feel a special bond. Not like the one between her and Papa. She was grateful her prayers had been answered. SaVoy and her mom agreed to see one another again but her mom wouldn't commit to a date and SaVoy was at peace with her mother's decision, knowing that might be their first and last time seeing one another.
CHAPTER 19
H
arry's initial offer was ridiculous. Ten thousand dollars. Fancy countered at one hundred. Harry had said, “Fifty thousand. Final offer. Take it or leave it.” If Fancy weren't broke she would've said, “Kiss my ass Harry Washington. I'll see you in court!” But since most rape victims seldom found justice in the courtroom, Fancy agreed to accept the fifty grand. Harry said his attorney would prepare the contract but the money wouldn't be available for another two weeks. Fancy was so thrilled she invited Desmond over to celebrate because after calling Byron's home, Fancy needed time to figure out how to get rid of Mrs. Lee.
“Oh, hell yeah!” Fancy screamed loud enough to distract the early morning joggers across the street.
Falling in love with Desmond was not part of her plan. Whenever she needed him, he was there. With the exception of his family, nothing and no one in his life seemed more important than her, including Carlita.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Desmond was pumping so hard Fancy forgot she'd accidentally turned on the microwave.
“Oh, yes. Yes, baby. That's my spot. Don't stop. Right there.” Fancy's voice escalated. “Right there, baby. Mama's getting ready to—”
“Aw, damn,” Desmond said, as he pulled out and ejaculated all over Fancy's butt.
“Dez!” Fancy slapped his shoulder. “You didn't wait for me. That's selfish.” Fancy led Desmond into her bedroom, lay on the bed, spread her legs, and parted her lips. “Dez, I'm not finished.”
Desmond shook his head, plopped on the love seat, picked up the television remote and replied, “I am.”
“Fine,” Fancy said, heading for the bathroom, wondering who would quench the lustful burn spreading throughout her body like wildfire. For now, she would, in the shower. Although she didn't hear anything unusual, her sixth sense detected a presence that tingled the nerves along her neck, shoulders, and back. Fancy frowned, then turned.
“Damn, Dez. Make some noise or something so I can hear you.”
“You know I'm here. Even when you don't see me.” Desmond's hands guided her hips toward the counter, then gently leaned her body forward. An expensive bottle of perfume twirled inside the porcelain sink as Desmond gave an extra thrust to assist entry of his partially erect penis. Fancy's nipples grazed the cold marbled countertop. With each stroke Desmond grew harder and longer.
“Oh, yes,” Fancy said, shifting her hips side to side.
You think I'm some kind of a joke?
Harry's voice echoed between her ears.
What the fuck are you doing!
Each time Fancy lifted herself off the counter, Desmond pressed her body flush against the cold marble. Fancy stared in the mirror at Desmond, then closed her eyes.
Harry, please. Don't do this. I'll pay you back. I promise
.
You know you want me. And you know I don't care about the money. So let's stop playing games. You screw me. I screw you. And everybody's happy.
Desmond held her waist as his dick glided back and forth. “Aw, damn. You feel so good. I love you Fancy.”
Fancy's arms and legs trembled.
“I'm cumming baby,” Desmond said, stroking faster. “Cum with me this time, baby. Cum with me.”
You think I'm some kind of a joke?
When Fancy opened her eyes, she saw Harry standing behind her. Stroking. Humping. Pumping. Sweating. Breathing hard.
“Get off me! Get off me!” Fancy's fists pounded on Desmond's chest. “I hate you, Harry! I hate you!” Fancy screamed, “Get off me!” Desmond's body landed against the wall as Fancy ran out of the bathroom.
Desmond chased her into the hallway, down the stairs, into the bedroom, and out onto the balcony, grabbing her waist as Fancy almost tumbled headfirst over the rail.
“Let me go! Let me go! Please, just let me go!”
“My God. What happened to you? This is Desmond. Fancy, this is Dez. It'll be okay, baby. I'm so sorry.” Tears welled in Desmond's eyes. “Whatever he did to you, I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you.”
Fancy sat on the concrete. Desmond placed his arms under her folded knees and behind her back. Pressing Fancy's naked body to his, Desmond carried her inside to her bed. “What happened to you?”
The details of how Harry had raped her were so graphic, Fancy cried while telling Desmond the story. She explained why she wasn't pressing charges, but she didn't confess about the money Harry had agreed to pay.
“What's wrong with me, Dez? Am I a bad person?”
“Of course not. But I think you should call Mandy.” Desmond hugged Fancy. “Fancy, you need help. You just tried to kill yourself.”
“I did not try to kill myself. I was running so fast I couldn't stop. There's a difference. I'm all right. And promise me you won't tell anyone. Especially Tyronne.”
“I wouldn't do that. But even if you weren't trying to kill yourself, you almost did so I seriously think you need to talk to Mandy right away.”
“I can't. I have no money. No job. I owe Mandy two hundred dollars and my landlord two thousand.”
Desmond rocked Fancy in his arms and said, “What about your mom? Can she help you?”
“You're kidding. Right?”
“No, I wasn't.” Desmond paused, then said, “Look, I'll give you two thousand dollars.”
Fancy eyes widened. “Where are you going to get two thousand dollars to give me?”
“Don't worry about that.” Desmond dug deep into his pants pocket and handed Fancy a Benjamin. “Here, I'll give you the rest later.”
“Oh, thank you, Dez!” Fancy hugged and kissed Desmond.
If she had known Desmond would freely give her that much money, she would've asked a long time ago. Fancy removed the cordless from the base and dialed SaVoy's number. Until she could schedule an appointment with Mandy, Fancy needed someone to listen to her problems so she could sort things out in her mind. She wanted to call Tanya because Tanya was her perfect listener, but ninety percent of the time when William answered the phone, even if Tanya was home, Tanya wasn't available. SaVoy would give constructive feed-back—probably too constructive—along with a few biblical quotes sprinkled throughout the conversation.
“Hey,” SaVoy answered, sounding happy. “How are you? Where've you been? I called your job and they said you no longer work there.”
“If that's what they said, it must be true.” Fancy laughed. “That's part of the reason I'm calling, to see if you want to do breakfast.”
“Breakfast sounds good. Where you wanna go?”
“Let me find something on-line.” With all the places to eat in the Bay Area, Fancy seldom dined at the same restaurant twice. “I'll pick you up in about an hour. Bye.”
“Who was that?” Desmond questioned.
“SaVoy.” Fancy frowned when the corners of Desmond's lips damn near touched his ears. What was that about? “I just need someone to talk to other than myself.”
Desmond's voice became perky. “SaVoy's really good at listening. And helping. Me, I listen but I still don't know what I can or should do to help.”
“You've helped more than you know.” Fancy kissed Desmond and went into the bathroom. She stared in the mirror and slid the dental floss between each space twice
.
Girl, you almost killed yourself. So you've made a few mistakes. Who hasn't? Look at yourself.
The toothpaste fell off the toothbrush and washed down the drain with the running water.
You're beautiful. You're intelligent. Not very smart 'cause you do the same stupid shit over and over but you are intelligent because you know better. It's time you start doing better. Most women wish they had your beauty and brains.
Fancy squirted more paste on the brush.
When you gon'tell Mandy about your childhood? You know he comes up for parole next year. And if he gets out, you know he's going to find you.
Fancy shivered, brushing her front teeth in a circular motion.
Forget him. He's not serious about harming me. It's Caroline he really wants. Besides, I'll be married with a new name by the time he's released.
Selecting a pair of black fitted slacks, a beige cashmere sweater, and her ankle boots, Fancy dressed quickly. Then she sat at her vanity, parted her fresh weave one inch down the center, laid it flat, and bumped the ends. She patted her nose with a powder sponge. Eyebrows penciled. Lips lined. Chai lipstick. Fancy grabbed her gym bag and packed hiking boots, a sweatsuit, undergarments, and three towels: hand, face, and bath.
“Okay, Dez. Wake up. I'm ready to go.”
“Can't a brother get some rest? Plus, I need to shower. I'll lock up before I leave.”
Fancy hesitated, then said, “Okay, but don't answer my phone.” After Desmond rolled over, Fancy went to the garage, got in her Benz, and headed over to SaVoy's.
The parking space next to SaVoy's car was taken so Fancy parked in SaVoy's driveway. The forest green hedges bordering the front lawn were immaculate. SaVoy stood in the doorway wearing a burnt-orange headwrap, hoop earrings, a light blue sweater, and jeans.
Opening her hand, Fancy wiggled her fingers. “Let's take your car. You know I've wanted to drive this baby ever since your dad bought it for you.” That was partially true but the main reason was Fancy preferred saving her hundred dollars and using SaVoy's gas. Fuel prices were outrageously high. Two dollars and thirty cents a gallon. “I almost forgot. Go back inside and grab a pair of hiking boots.”
Fancy sat behind SaVoy's steering wheel, removed a sheet of paper from her purse, and laid it upon the dashboard.
SaVoy climbed into the passenger seat of her SUV. “So where are we going?”
“I think we'll like it.” From what Fancy had researched on-line, the quaint, affordable restaurant with a fantastic view and award-winning food was worth the trip. It was twelve miles north of the Golden Gate Bridge off Highway 1 near the hiking trails at Muir Woods. Not too close yet not too far from Mrs. Lee's house.
“So, what's going on with you?” SaVoy asked, turning off the radio.
“Let's start with you. How's Tyronne?”
SaVoy beamed. “He's fine. We went out the other night. Had a wonderful time.”
Fancy glimpsed at SaVoy. “Does that mean you're no longer—”
“Oh, I'm not that easy. He has to go to church with me first.”
“What's up with that?”
“Because going to church together helps to build a solid foundation for a relationship. That's why. But enough about me. What's going on with you?”
Fancy exhaled and said, “Issues. Love. Job. You name it. Family issues, too. That's if I include Caroline.” An icebreaker would be better than starting off telling SaVoy her real problems, but where should Fancy start?
Fancy occasionally looked out over the water as she drove across the San Rafael Bridge. The same bridge she crossed while giving Byron a blow job. Now she hadn't heard from him since his so-called emergency. But that was all right. Mrs. Lee would soon meet Fancy Taylor. Fancy bounced to the tune of Missy Elliot playing in her head.
“Okay, and? I know something is bothering you.”
“You're right. There's no way I'm going to end up a single old maid like Caroline. This year is my year to get married, settle down, and start having crumb-snatchers, in that order. I love men, and although I am discriminating, I don't discriminate. As long as the dick is permanently attached at birth—none of that ‘I was born a woman now I wanna be a man' bullshit—it doesn't matter. Girl, he can even be bisexual. I really don't care as long as his ass is rich.”
Fancy merged onto Highway 101.
SaVoy shook her head. “Now you're not making any sense.”
Fancy held the directions, periodically glancing down, then focusing on the road signs.
“I'm trying to give you the history first. After profiling over two dozen men, I figured one package of testosterone was suitable for marriage.”
Pleased that she'd found the Sunday Morning restaurant, Fancy pulled into the paved parking lot. The building sat isolated on its own cliff overlooking the ocean.
“Whoa, the view is gorgeous,” SaVoy said, admiring the hillside.
With two people ahead of them, Fancy turned her back toward them and whispered, “Girl, I'm in my prime and my stuff is so good no man can whiff just once. Which is exactly why I need to find a husband while I'm ripe, right, tender, and tight.”
The couple turned around. Fancy stared at them.
“I'm not sure what you're looking for in a man. What are you looking for?”

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