Rich Girl Problems (21 page)

M
ilan walked into the living room and immediately noticed Kendu sitting on the sofa with his head tilted back, his eyes closed, and the camera zoomed in on him.

The room was silent. She knew him well enough to recognize that he was in deep thought and whatever thought he'd settled in on was one that rocked him to the core.

I know I pushed him away, but please . . .

Milan walked over to Kendu and sat beside him. “Knott . . .”

“Milan, let me tell you something right fuckin' now,” he said sternly, never once holding his head up or opening his eyes. “If you want to leave me, then pack your shit and go. I'm done with this. Fuckin' finished. I'm sick of trying to convince you that I don't know that trick and that I love you. Because obviously you never trusted me to begin with.”

“Knott . . .”

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” He held his head up and the moment he opened his eyes, tears rolled down his cheeks. “Stop cutting me off.”

Milan's heart sank. She'd never seen her man in tears. Not even when he was a little boy with nowhere to go.

Kendu continued, “I have loved you too fuckin' long for you to let some strange-ass chick step to you and tell you anything about me. You—”

“Knott, she was an actress.”

“Didn't I tell you to stop cuttin' me off—what did you just say to me?”

“You've been telling me the truth the whole time. Bridget hired her for a goddamn story line!”

“What?”

“Yes. When we first started taping, she said I was boring and needed to spice things up. Well, she took it upon herself to hire this actress to pretend to be your mistress!”

Kendu shook his head in disbelief. “An actress? She hired an actress? What the hell?!”

“Yes. Can you believe it?”

“Yeah, I can believe that. Because Bridget is grimy as hell. But what I can't believe is that you, my wife, the woman I love more than anyone and anything, took my ass through hell. Cussing me out publicly. Humiliating me. Feeding me rabbits and shit.”

“I didn't cook the rabbit.”

“I know you didn't, because the damn nanny found his ass hopping around in the garden. But that's not the point! The point is that you would let anyone come between us and make these last few months hell!”

“Knott, I'm so, so sorry. I am. Please believe me. I'll never doubt you again. Whatever you want and whatever you need, I'm here. Nothing and no one will ever get between us. I'm done with reality TV. Things have gone too far. I'm finished.”

“This shit is crazy.”

“I know, but I beat that damn actress's and Bridget's ass in the same damn day!”

Kendu looked at Milan like she was insane. “Fuck them.” Tears glimmered in his eyes.

“What's wrong with you?” she asked. “It's something, and whatever it is doesn't have a damn thing to do with reality TV.”

He handed Milan the picture Vera left behind and Milan smiled. “Look at you looking like our son. How old were you? You look like you were about three. I thought you didn't have any pictures of yourself before the age of ten. Where are you? In a playground somewhere?”

“I didn't have any photos. I got this from my sister.”

Milan blinked. “What? Your sister? What sister?”

“The one who came over here today.”

“Wait, wait—start from the beginning. Who is this person and how do you know she is really your sister? For all we know, Bridget could've hired her.”

“Bridget did hire her.”

“I'm confused.”

“Milan, Vera is my sister.”

Milan blinked. “What do you mean?”

“She came over here a little while ago in tears and she told me that we had the same mother.”

“Vera's mother. The lady who came with her to your birthday party?”

“Yeah. Oh, my God . . .” He shook his head. “My mother.”

“Which makes Vera your sister.”

“My sister.” Tears streamed from his eyes. “And I'm so fuckin' mad!” He pounded his fist on the glass coffee table, sending a crack straight through it. “I'm pissed. I'm angry. I'm hurt.” His voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “I used to dream that my mother would come and get me when I was in foster care. And I used to wait and pray and shit, that my mother would come, and she never did. 'Cause she was too busy in the damn streets getting high.”

“She's not anymore though, Knott.”

“Milan, Vera told me that she's in the hospital right now on her deathbed from an overdose. So now I finally know who my mother is and she's getting ready to fuckin' die on me!”

Milan's eyes popped open wide. “Don't let her die. Let's go to the hospital now and you walk into her room and you tell her, “Don't fuckin' die on me! I've been waiting all of my life to be loved by you and you'd better not fuckin' die on me! I need you.' ”

“I can't do that.”

 

“I tried.” Vera sat at Rowanda's bedside and held her hand. “I told him and that's all I could do. I couldn't make him come. Okay. I kept my part of the bargain and now I need you to keep yours and don't fuckin' die on me. Get your shit together and fight.” Vera pushed her head into the side of her mother's hip. “Please . . .” She cried. “Please.”

“I need you, too,” Kendu said as he walked slowly into the hospital room.

Vera raised her head in surprise as Kendu walked around Rowanda's hospital bed and squeezed her hand. “I don't know what to say or what to do. All I know is that I have loved you all of my life and I've waited for the day when you would love me back. Now don't take that shit from me.” He cried. “Don't!”

Beep . . . beep . . . beep . .
.. ..

“Everybody out of the room!” a doctor yelled as a team of doctors and nurses rushed in. “Everybody out!”

A nurse screamed, “We're losing her!”

J
ust act normal . . .

No guilt.

Damn. I keep smelling Grant's cologne.

Relax.

And I keep feeling his touch.

Chaunci closed her eyes as a vision danced before her of Grant lifting her breasts and slipping first one nipple into his mouth and then the other.

“Chaunci, do you hear me?” Emory said, waving his hand in her face.

“Huh? What? What did you say, baby?”

“I was asking you if you wanted white or red wine with your pizza.”

“Red, sweetie.”

“You've got it.”

You'd better get it together. It happened once.... No. It happened five times over a weekend. You can shake this. Emory is the man you need to marry.

Yes, he is.

Chaunci smiled at Emory as he placed two glasses of wine on the table.

“How was the party, babe?” Emory asked, taking a bite of his slice.

Chaunci hesitated.
What party?
“Umm . . .”

“Kendu's party.”

Chaunci's eyes grew bright. “Right. Kendu's party. It was really nice.”

“Why didn't you come home that night?”

Think.
“Now you know I was with Milan and whenever we get together we have a little too much to drink. I tell you. I'm going to hate to see that footage.” She gulped her wine in one shot.

“Yeah, me too. So why didn't you come home the next night?”

Think.
“Same thing. Got carried away with Milan.”

“You couldn't call?”

“Umm . . . You know what? I should've called. I'm really sorry about that. Anyway, honey, let's talk about this movie you have planned for us to watch. We haven't had a pizza and movie night in a long time.” She placed her left hand on his knee and squeezed.

Emory's eyes dropped to Chaunci's hand. “Where's your ring?”

Chaunci looked down at her finger.
Where's my fuckin' ring? Think. Think. Think. I don't know.
“I took it off this morning when I was oiling my skin. I must've left it on the vanity.”

“Okay. If you say so.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Should it mean something?”

“You tell me.”

“Chaunci, relax. I didn't mean anything by it. Like you said, we haven't had a pizza and movie night in a while and I think you'll especially like this movie. So let's just sit back and enjoy, okay?”

“All right.”
Relax.
“What's the name of the movie, baby?”

“Whores.”

“What kind of movie is that? A documentary?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

Chaunci refreshed her glass of wine. “Put the movie in and let's see what this is about.”

“Let's.”

The movie lit up the television screen with a view of the ocean. Crystal clear water sparkled under the moonlight. The camera panned to a yacht's upper deck as two bodies, one chocolate and one cream, made love on a massive white sofa.

What the hell . . . ?

I can't breathe....

Chaunci's fantasy weekend came to life as Grant sucked her breasts and his scrotum smacked her pussy lips.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!” Chaunci screamed, jumping up and spilling her wine everywhere. “What kind of sick shit are you on!”

“Me? You're the sick bitch!”

“Bitch! Don't you ever call me a bitch!”

“A bitch! A whore! An unfaithful ass-lying slut! Up there fuckin' some white ass punk! What? Was I too black for you?!”

“That's ridiculous!”

“No, what's ridiculous is that the same motherfucker who stole your company you laying up there fuckin'! Lying about Kendu's party! You weren't even there!”

“I was there!”

“Why the hell are you still lying?! You weren't there because I was there and your ass was nowhere to be found!”

“Let me explain.”

“You can't explain a damn thing to me! But what you can do is get your shit and get the fuck outta here before I beat your ass! God knows I'm a good man, but I'm not a saint, so you'd better get the hell away from me! Oh, and your goddamn ring is not on your vanity! It's right here!” Emory pulled it from his pocket. “ 'Cause along with the video, that motherfucker sent it back to me!”

“Emory.” Chaunci reached for his hand.

“Chaunci, I swear to God if you don't leave I may kill you.”

Say something.

I can't.

Chaunci picked up her purse and took one last glance at Emory. “Emory.”

He grabbed her by the arm and roughly walked her to the door. “I'm done with you! And I don't ever want to see you again! Whore!”

The Next Day

 

T
he sidewalk leading to the courthouse was filled with news reporters, bloggers, and photographers all looking for a quick interview, a word or two, or to snap a quick picture to sell to the highest bidder.

Vera stood next to her attorney doing her best not to make eye contact with any of the news cameras.

“No comment. No comment,” Vera heard repeated again and again as her attorney waved off the reporters' questions. The sheriff led Vera and her attorney into the courtroom, where Taj and his attorney sat in the back waiting.

Taj looked Vera over from her hair draping over her shoulders to her red bottoms. She wore a black pencil skirt, starched white Chanel blouse, and around her neck a three-strand pearl necklace. She wondered what his thoughts were and started to ask, but quickly changed her mind.

After all, considering today would be the last day they would share last names, she no longer had a right to ask him what his thoughts were.

Vera sat down on the opposite side of the courtroom, as her attorney walked over to Taj's attorney and asked to see him in the hallway.

Don't think.

Don't look at his ass.

Don't do anything but listen to these two dumb motherfuckers standing before the judge fighting for custody and visitation rights to a dog.

Dear God.

“Listen, Mr. and Mrs. Frank,” the judge said. “I'm going to set a new date for the two of you to come back. You need to meet on your own and try to figure who the dog should go to.” The judge walked off the bench.

“Next case,” the bailiff announced. “Bennett versus Bennett.”

Vera and Taj stood up while their attorneys rushed in and made their way to their respective clients.

“They refused to settle on anything,” Vera's attorney, Matthew, whispered. “They said dropping the restraining order was enough. Taj refuses to settle for anything less than half.”

“All rise!” the bailiff said as the judge walked onto the bench.

“You may be seated,” the bailiff stated as the judge took his seat.

“Have the parties reached any agreements?” the judge asked, looking toward Vera's attorney.

“No, Your Honor. Please review the settlement we have submitted to the court.”

“Have you copied the respondent?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

The judge looked toward Taj and his attorney. “Have you reviewed it?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“We will not accept and will instead accept whatever decision Your Honor makes.”

“Wait,” Vera said, standing. “Can I please say something?”

“Have you consulted your counsel?”

“No, she hasn't,” Vera's attorney said.

“I don't need to speak to you on this,” Vera said, looking back toward the judge.

“Well, what would like to say, Mrs. Bennett?”

“Your Honor, I have spent so much time being mad and pissed, and trying to seek revenge on my husband for hurting me, that I never stopped to see what I was doing to myself. To us. To him. My life has suddenly gone crazy. I have a brother whom I never knew I had. My mother is in a coma, and my husband, my best friend . . . I have completely pushed him away from me. I don't want to go forward with the divorce at this time.”

Tears covered her face as she sat down and closed her eyes, doing her best to ignore the buzzing of the people in the courtroom.

The next few minutes felt like hell as Taj didn't say a word, and instead his attorney asked for a brief recess.

“I think one is needed,” the judge agreed.

“Vera,” Matthew said, “Taj would like to speak with you. The bailiff said that you two can step into the break room and close the door.”

Vera walked into the room and there was Taj leaning against the orange Formica countertop, dressed in a double-breasted tan suit and loose tie. “You know what, Vera?” Taj said. “It took everything in me not to ask the judge to grant the divorce anyway.”

“What?”

“You stood up there and said all that shit to the judge and you never once looked at me!”

“To whom did you think I was apologizing?”

“I don't know! Damn sure not me. This isn't a damn romance novel and you can't confess your love to me all melodramatically and think I'll just run over to you and scream, ‘I love you!' Hell no. This is real life and that damn stunt you just pulled pissed me off! You don't need to be telling the judge shit. You need to be speaking to me. Your husband. And if you can't do that, then our business as a couple is done. Now you've got five minutes and then I'm out of here.”

Vera bit her bottom lip. Her heart raced as her palms started to sweat. She wanted to take the easy way out by telling Taj, “Fuck it! We're done.” But the thought alone awakened a pain in her belly so strong that she knew spewing the words would knock her off her feet.

“You only have five minutes and you've already used up two of them.”

“Taj, you know how I feel.”

“No, I don't. I know that you filed for divorce. I know that you tore up my penthouse, took back my car, cussed me out, cut me off, and refused to accept my son. A son I didn't even know about until last year. And instead of you being by my side, you flipped into this cold, scared, and hard-acting witch that I didn't even recognize. I know that I love you to death, but as of right now, I'm not so sure that I like you at all. That's what I know.”

“You know what? To hell with it.”

“Cool. Then let's go and get divorced.”

“No.” Vera ran over and blocked the door.

Just say it.

She locked into his eyes. “You and Skyy are my life. My everything. You complete me. I miss you. I miss your smile. Your laugh. Your quirks. I miss you complaining about me leaving all the lights on and making the bill too high. Even though we had enough money to own the damn electric company. I miss you leaving the toilet seat up and watching sports every time I turned around. I miss your cologne. Your smile. Your scent on our sheets. I miss waking up to you in the morning and going to sleep with you at night. I miss having a man who knows me better that I know myself at times. I miss my best friend, and if you will have me as your wife”—Vera pulled her wedding and engagement rings from her skirt pocket and put them in Taj's hands—“I promise to never take you for granted again. I promise to love you and put you first. I promise to be the best stepmother I can be to our son, Aidan. I promise to cook every night—”

“Now you're going too far.” Taj chuckled.

“I promise to never, ever shut you out again. Just say you'll stay my husband.”

Taj looked down at Vera's rings in his hands. He took her left hand and said, “Repeat after me. For better or worse.”

“For better or worse.”

“For richer or for poorer.”

“For richer or for poorer.”

“To honor and obey.”

“Obey?” Vera curled her top lip. “What kind of obey are we talking about?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Then say it.”

“Honor and obey.”

“In sickness and in health.”

“In sickness and in health.”

“Until death do us part.” He slid her rings back onto her finger. “I love you, Mrs. Bennett.”

“I love you more,” Vera said, as they began to kiss passionately.