Material Girl (24 page)

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Authors: Keisha Ervin

BOOK: Material Girl
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Knox stood back in amazement as she popped her torso hard to the beat. If he had known that all he had to do was bring her to Throwback Thursdays to get her to open up, he would have done it a long time ago.
Things slowed down a bit when Bone Thugs-n-Harmony’s “Thuggish Ruggish Bone” came on. Billie waved her hand in the air and sang, “
We got Laaaaaaaaaaayzie and Kraaaaaaayzie . . . Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiizzy . . . Wiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiish . . . and Flesh
. . .”
She’d totally transported back to the age of thirteen, when Dickies and Karl Kani pants were in. Dudes donned cornrows, and chicks rocked dookie braids. Nobody even thought about diamonds. What made you hot was if you had an adda-bead or herringbone chain.
After working up a sweat on the dance floor, Billie and Knox ordered two drinks, with an order of chicken wings and cheese fries. Billie enjoyed the food so much she ordered seconds.
The karaoke portion of the night had begun to take place. Billie cracked up laughing as one by one, people went up on stage and made absolute fools of themselves. After an older gentleman in a plaid Steve Harvey–like suit finished singing Rick James’s “Superfreak” a stool, a mic, and an acoustic guitar were brought on stage. Billie had no idea what was about to happen next.
“I’ll be right back,” Knox said, getting up.
Confused, Billie followed him with her eyes across the room.
Oh, no, he isn’t,
she thought, wiping her mouth and hands.
Knox hadn’t said a damn thing about participating, nor had he ever mentioned that he could sing. Afraid of what type of sound was about to come out of his mouth, Billie said a silent prayer to God that he wouldn’t embarrass the hell out of both of them.
Knox took a seat on the stool and grabbed the acoustic guitar. “Wassup, everyone?” he said into the microphone.
“Heeeey!” The ladies in the crowd meowed. The women at Cougars loved when Knox performed.
“Tonight I wanna do things a li’l different and sing a song called ‘Wonderful’ by Timothy Bloom. Billie, this is for you.”
Knox tapped his foot and began strumming the guitar, releasing beautiful sounds of joys into the air.
“Uh . . . Since we hooked up . . . things been going really fast and crazy enough.
. . .
” Knox bobbed his head and rocked to the beat. “
I can love you over and over and over and over again. I can loooooove you.
”
Never before in her thirty years on earth had Billie heard words filled with so many emotions behind them. Tears of complete and utter bliss fell from her eyes. Her heart never felt so full. The look on Knox’s face and the euphonic sound of his voice said it all. What he and Billie shared was rare and special. Yeah, things were moving at lightning speed, but with the connection they shared, it only seemed right. Nothing between them was forced or fake.
Once the song was over, she was the first person on her feet, clapping and cheering. Hearing him sing to her was better than sweet potato pie on Christmas Day. Once he walked back over to their table, Billie lovingly took him into her arms and kissed him until both of them had to come up for air.
 
 
Dylan couldn’t have been happier. After her auction and getting herself out of debt, she started selling her baked goods as Tee-Tee had suggested. She first started selling them to his coworkers at Neiman’s, then at Mina’s Joint. Soon after that, orders started pouring in left and right. Before she knew it, Dylan had private parties, birthday parties, weddings, baby showers and more to sell her stuff. She was so busy that she had to hire employees and rent a space.
People seemed to love her couture-inspired cakes, cookies, and pies, so she named her pastry shop Edible Couture. Dylan never knew that something she did as a hobby when bored or sad could translate into a career and a reliable source of income. She didn’t have the money she used to, but that was okay. At the end of the day, she was doing something she loved and pulling her life together.
The next step on her road to redemption was to get her own place. She would forever be grateful to her cousin for blessing her with a place to stay, but after six months, it was time for her to leave the nest. She’d been looking for weeks and finally found a nice tri-level, two-bedroom townhouse in the historic Soulard area of St. Louis. The place was ten times smaller than her old place and far less expensive, but it was hers, and she absolutely adored it. Dylan didn’t have any furniture but a bed, but with hard work, everything else she needed would come.
She’d only been in her new place two weeks, and it was her first time going to the laundromat to wash. Tee-Tee was there with her to teach her how.
“Bitch, have you been eating?” he asked, looking at her sideways.
“Yes, I’ve just been working out. Nicole Richie’s my new
thin
spiration.” Dylan posed.
“Well, you need to stop. It look like ya damn chest is on backwards.” Tee-Tee tooted up his nose.
“Whateva, hater. Oh, did I tell you that I served food to the homeless at the parish next door to my house the other day?”
“Okay, Mother Teresa. You baking shit, got yo’ own place, feeding the homeless, shoppin’ at Old Navy, and clearly doing your own weave.” He flicked her hair.
“So?” Dylan jerked her head back.
“So you’re boring.”
“I’m being responsible,” she shot back.
“Same thing.”
“Whateva. So, what is this place?” she asked, looking inside a washing machine. “It’s pretty, but where are all the fish?”
“Help her, Jesus.” Tee-Tee looked up at the ceiling. “Sweetie.” He took Dylan by the hands. “That’s not an aquarium. That’s a washing machine.”
“Oh, well, they need to put a sign up that says that, ’cause I bet a lot of people get confused.”
“Did Candy drink when she was pregnant with you?” He eyed her, confused. “’Cause I swear there’s something wrong.”
“Knowing her, probably she did.”
“So, you still haven’t talked to her?” Tee-Tee questioned.
“No, and I’m not until she apologizes and pays me back my money,” Dylan said adamantly.
“I can’t be mad at you for that. Fifty thousand dollars is a lot of money. Every time I see her I’d be whoppin’ her ass,” Tee-Tee said jokingly.
“You stupid.”
“Oh, guess who’s gettin’ married?”
“Who?” Her heart raced. She prayed he wouldn’t say it was Angel.
“Billie, girl.”
“What?” Her jaw dropped.
“Yep. Knox proposed to her last night.”
“Wow, and she said yes. That’s so unlike Billie,” Dylan said, amazed.
“Billie is a hot girl. She still doesn’t dress like we do, but she is showing a li’l skin now. Knox has really been good for her, and the kids love him. Every time I talk to her they doing something together, either by their self or with the kids.”
“I’m happy for her. If anybody deserves to be happy, it’s her. So. when is the wedding?” Dylan asked.
“In September. Can you believe it?”
“Really?” Dylan said, even more stunned.
“Girl, Billie love that white boy. You remember how he look, don’t you? Shit, I would be at the court house next week pledging my allegiance to his sexy ass.” Tee-Tee popped his lips.
“Well, the next time you see her, tell her I said congratulations.” Dylan looked down at her feet.
“Why don’t you try callin’ her yo”self? Enough time has passed.” Tee-Tee rubbed her back.
“Boy, you tryna get me cussed out again?” Dylan looked up at him. “Billie ain’t fuckin’ wit’ me, and I don’t blame her. I just wish . . .” She got misty-eyed.
“It’s okay, cousin.” Tee-Tee consoled her. “Wounds take time to heal, and eventually Billie will come around.”
“I hope so.”
“Everybody says we’re through. I hope you haven’t said it too.”
—Chris Brown, “Crawl”
 
Chapter 23
 
“Honey, you look fierce!” Tee-Tee snapped his fingers in a Z formation.
He and Billie had been searching for gowns for months, and they hadn’t been able to find anything that matched her style until now. Billie walked out of the dressing room at Vera Wang’s flagship store in New York. She was dressed in a sample size A-line gown with an asymmetric portrait neck and softly swirling skirt, but Billie wasn’t satisfied.
“What’s wrong?” Tee-Tee hugged her as she cried.
“This dress is the one, but I can’t fit it,” she sobbed. “I’ma have to have it altered, and the wedding is three weeks away.”
Tee-Tee knew that what he was about to do was over the top, but desperate times called for desperate measures. In his heart he knew that it had to be done.
“Bitch, snap out of it.” He slapped Billie in the face. “I know you’re stressed, but, bitch, are you high? You know the rules. Now, say it with me.”
Billie held her cheek and said, “You don’t alter your dress to fit you. You alter yourself to fit Vera.”
“That’s better.” Tee-Tee blew out a sigh of relief.
“I know the rules. I just . . . wish Dylan was here. But I have to keep reminding myself that I don’t like her.” Billie continued to sob.
“Girl, y’all need to stop. Both of y’all are miserable, missing the hell out of the other, but don’t wanna make the first move.”
“I love her, I do, but I just can’t be friends with her after what she did.” Billie wiped her eyes.
“Look, just go back in the dressing room and take off the gown, ’cause we gettin’ it. Yo’ big ass just gon’ have to go on a diet and that’s the end of it. Now, go!” He shooed her back inside the room and closed the door.
Tee-Tee was tired of seeing the two people he loved most, outside of Bernard, hurt for nothing. Billie and Dylan’s feud was about to end, and Tee-Tee was going to make sure of it.
 
 
Moxy Bistro, a contemporary restaurant with affordable upscale cuisine was bombarded with their daily lunch crowd. Dylan sat alone, sipping on a glass of lemon water. She and Tee-Tee were scheduled to have lunch, but he was running late. Dylan was starving, and if Tee-Tee didn’t arrive soon, she was going to order without him.
Billie took off her shades and followed the hostess to her table, where she was supposed to meet Tee-Tee. To her dismay, in his place was Dylan.
“Is this some kind of joke?” She gave Dylan a nasty look. “What are you doing here?”
“I should be askin’ you the same thing,” Dylan replied. “I’m supposed to be meeting Tee-Tee here for lunch, but he’s running late.”
“He’s not coming,” Billie spat. “It’s obvious that he asked us both out for lunch and had no intentions of showing up. I guess this was his way of making us talk.”
“Oh . . . well, you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Dylan replied, although she was hoping she would.
“I know I don’t, but I’m here and I’m hungry, so . . .” Billie sat down.
She and Dylan placed their orders and waited in silence. Both of them had so much to say, but neither wanted to be the one to say it first.
“How are the kids?” Dylan spoke up hesitantly. “I bet they’ve gotten big.”
“They’re fine. I heard you opened up a pastry shop.” Billie draped her napkin across her lap.
“Yeah, it’s doing good. I just got asked to do a cake for the anniversary of Meesa’s clothing line.”
“Really?” Billie perked up then checked herself. “That’s cool,” she said in an even tone.
“Look, Billie,” Dylan said, tired of beating around the bush. “It’s apparent that you’re still upset with me, and you have every right to be.”
“You damn right I do. You cheated on my brother with the scum of the earth.”
“And God knows I’m sorry for that. If I could go back and redo it all, I would, but I can’t. I just wish that somehow you could find it in your heart to forgive me.” Dylan pleaded with her eyes. “You’re my best friend, Billie, and I miss you. I wanna be able to come to your wedding and watch you get married. I wanna see the kids. I wanna be able to talk to you and tell you what’s going on in my life. I want my friend back.”
“I don’t know, Dylan.” Billie shook her head, unsure if she could trust her.
“I wanted to tell you, too, that you were right.” Dylan looked down.
“Right about what?”
“About me being like my mother.”
“Dylan, I didn’t mean that—”
“No, it’s okay.” Dylan stopped her. “It’s true. I was like my mother. All my life I’ve treated the right people wrong and the wrong people right. I was so caught up in my own so-called happiness that I neglected everyone else’s feelings. I let keeping up with the Joneses and a man ruin everything in my life. And for what? When the rent needed to be paid and I didn’t have any money, my Zac Posen blouse or Prada bag didn’t help with a damn thing.
“And like you said, State never gave a damn about me. I always knew it, though, deep down inside. I guess a part of me just wanted to believe that he did.”
“I know how that feels.” Billie played with her fork. “I was going through the same thing with Cain toward the end of our marriage. You just find yourself wanting desperately to hold on to the feeling of love, ’cause you know that once it’s gone, all you’re left with is a big-ass hole in your chest. You feel numb. Every part of you hurts. You can’t eat and sleep.” Billie chuckled. “Hell, you don’t even know what that is anymore.”
“Don’t I know the feeling? Girl, when me and yo’ brother broke up, I had the blues something terrible.”
Uncertain of how to respond, Billie sat quietly.
“I know that Angel is a touchy subject, but I want you to know that I did love him a lot . . . shit, I still love him. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t regret my decisions.” Unwilling to cry, Dylan swallowed the tears that were creeping up her throat.
“Mm-mm-mmm” Billie wiped her eyes with her napkin. “What am I going to do with you? You make me so sick, but I love you just the same.” She giggled.
“I love you too, girl, no homo.” Dylan laughed too. “So, how has the wedding planning been going?”
“Well, I found my dress,” Billie began to explain.
For the next three hours, she and Dylan ate and drank while catching up on each other’s lives.
 
 
Billie’s wedding day had arrived. She hadn’t stopped smiling since she rose from bed that sunny September morning. There wasn’t a trace of rain in the sky. Billie and Knox were to be married at one of her favorite places in the world, the Japanese garden at the Missouri Botanical Gardens. The ceremony site was breathtaking.
Billie and Knox would be married under a giant oak tree with hundreds of orchids hanging from the limbs. R&B crooner Chrisette Michele sang “Love is You,” setting the mood for a romantic sunset wedding
.
Seventy-five guests sat patiently awaiting Billie’s arrival.
Dressed and ready to go, she stood back with her father and watched as her girls walked across the bridge, lightly tossing white rose petals along the way.
Tee-Tee and Dylan went next. He wore a long strapless chiffon dress. Dylan rocked a mind-blowing oyster-colored Valentino ruffle halter gown. Their bouquets were made of amnesia roses, dahlias, antique pink roses, and cream-colored hydrangea.
At the altar, Dylan watched with tears in her eyes as Billie and her father made their way across the bridge. No one could deny how beautiful she looked that day. Every ounce of her glowed. Billie was a vision in ivory. A long cathedral veil hung from her hair. Being the non-traditional bride she was, she carried a single café au lait spray rose.
During the ceremony, Dylan tried to listen to the pastor, but she couldn’t keep her eyes off of Angel. He stood on the groom’s side in a black three- button tuxedo and satin bow tie. During the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner, he had played it so cool. Angel acted as if she didn’t even exist, but she didn’t care. His presence alone meant the world to her. Seeing his face again in person was the greatest gift in life she could receive, and she’d gladly swim the ocean’s floor or crawl over broken glass to experience it all over again.
After they said their vows and committed their lives to one another before God, Knox took his wife into his arms and gave her a long, sensual kiss. Everyone clapped and cheered.
Billie couldn’t say “I love you” or “thank you” enough. Knox would never know how much he meant to her. In a single day, he’d taken away years of pain from another man. From that day on, he would be her king, her Prince Charming, and her friend.
The reception was even grander. It was held at the legendary Boathouse in Forest Park. Purple hues of light lit the walls. Centerpieces of pink, white, and green flowers in square vases were accentuated with candles on each reception table. Fifty paper lanterns in assorted sizes hung above the dance floor in soft shades of green and purple. Billie and Knox sat alone at a sweetheart table, while the rest of the wedding party sat at a table together.
Dylan could hardly eat her food. Angel sat across from her, laughing and talking to Knox’s brother as if she weren’t even there. She wanted to ask him whether he enjoyed his steak, or how long he would be in town, but she didn’t want to risk him playin’ her in front of everybody, so she stayed quiet.
An hour later, dinner was over, and Billie and Knox had cut the cake. Everyone was on the dance floor, partying and having a good time. Dylan wanted to join in and pretend that everything was all good, but being around Angel and not being able to even say hello was proving to be too difficult. With a glass of Dom in her French-manicured hand, she sat alone at the table on the verge of tears. It if hadn’t been for Billie, she would’ve left a long time ago, but this was Billie’s day, and she wanted to see it through to the end.
As Dylan wiped away the tears that were begging to fall, the song “You Don’t Know Me” began to play
.
The words to the song captured Dylan’s heart, and for the first time in two days, she and Angel locked eyes. He stood across the room on the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Dylan expected him to look the other way, but to her surprise, he didn’t.
Angel was done with hiding his true feelings. He’d made a pact with himself that he wouldn’t allow his heart to feel a thing for Dylan when he saw her, but the task was damn near impossible. She was gorgeous, and the same naïve innocence that drew him to her in the beginning drew him to her now. Through his sister, he’d learned of her many accomplishments and her new humble lifestyle.
Angel was proud of her, but that didn’t take away the sorrow she’d caused him. What she did to him still stung tremendously, but he couldn’t deny that underneath the surface of anguish—and yes, sometimes hate—was love. Ready to give in to how he felt, Angel unfolded his arms and made his way across the room to her.
“Would you care to dance?” He placed out his hand.
Dylan could hardly speak; her heart was beating so fast. “I would love to.” She inhaled deeply and smiled.
Cheek to cheek, they danced slowly. It was irrefutable how well they fit together. Anybody with eyes could tell they belonged with one another—except Billie, who looked on from her husband’s arms. Concern filled her heart for them, but it wasn’t the time or the place to bring it up. Besides, her brother and best friend seemed so at peace. It was as if this moment were pre-destined in time to take place.
Then Anthony Hamilton took the stage and sang, “
Wish I could see through . . . see deep into you . . . and know what you’re thinkin’ now.
” It was everything Dylan felt and more. Was he thinking that he wished this moment would never end? Would this dance lead him to giving her another chance? But she wouldn’t dare ask. Since the day he walked out of her life, she’d dreamed of this, the day she’d get to hold him in her arms and squeeze him tight.
Caught up in the moment, Angel sensuously kissed the side of her neck. The feel of his lips upon her skin made Dylan weak in the knees.
 
 
Before either of them knew it, the wedding was over and they were back at her place. Their clothes found a resting place on the floor. In her bedroom, their lips met. Dylan found herself lying naked before him. His eyes never left hers as his mouth placed warm kisses upon her skin. Screams of joy threatened to fill the air, but Dylan was so caught up in the rapture of his love that she couldn’t find the sound.
After kissing her body from head to toe, Angel found the place he’d longed to explore. The pink lips of her pussy tasted like sugar against his hungry tongue as he ran his fingers along her quivering thighs. Each thrust of his tongue told a story of how much he pined for her, needed her, breathed her.

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