Secret Indiscretions (24 page)

“I was late getting here tonight because when I went to Bernard's house I found him drunk, passed out beside some half-naked woman,” she said as a small tear rolled down her cheek.

“Oh, no,” Gayle said.

“I gave the ring back and called off the wedding.”

Gayle placed her hand on Candace's shoulder. “I'm so sorry.”

“It's not your fault,” Candace said. Her tears turned back to anger. “It's his!”

Johnny balked. “The hell it is! Don't blame me because your man couldn't control his liquor or his dick. If you'd been handling your business at home, you wouldn't be here making a fool of yourself in the middle of this bar.”

Candace stopped crying and her voice became colder than the dropping temperature outside. “I—I should kill you,” she said, her voice filled with venom. “The world would be a better place without scum like you who continuously hurt others. You better watch your step!”

Her tone and words sent a chill through Johnny that made the hair stand up on the back of his neck, and he knew he had to leave before something really bad happened.

Once Johnny was back in his room he took off his clothes and climbed into bed. His head hurt from the constant bullshit that seemed to plague him. As he lay in the dark he thought about his life and how nothing made sense anymore. He reflected on each chaotic event that had happened over the last few months, and his heart sunk with the realization that the common denominator in all of it was him. As much as he hated to admit it, Bernard had been right. Johnny was at the center of all his problems.

Johnny shook his head, thinking about how, ever since Geneva left him, his life had felt empty. His house was no longer a home. He no longer had a sense of comfort. Through all the lying, cheating, and neglect, she'd stood by him until he'd made it impossible for her to continue on.

Tonight had been a turning point in Johnny's life. When he'd hit Vivana it brought back memories of his mother, which brought back the words she used to tell him long ago, words that he'd buried with her memory. “Son, behind every good man, there's a good woman.” For the first time in over twenty years, Johnny wept. He cried in silence for the lost boy he used to be, and for the reckless man he'd become. He cried for the broken pieces he'd created in the lives of the women he'd hurt over the years, and for the best friend whose life he'd ruined with his jealous, selfish ways.

As Johnny drifted off to sleep, he vowed that if he was blessed to open his eyes in the morning, he would look through them with a different attitude and purpose. He knew he needed to start righting some of the wrongs he'd committed, and the first thing he was going to do was go by the salon and apologize to Geneva.

G
eneva sat in her chair at the salon, sipping her white chocolate mocha latte, waiting for her first client to arrive. It was eight o'clock Saturday morning, and the place was already packed with customers. This was the salon's busiest day of the week, and Geneva had hoped she wouldn't have to come in today.

She'd wanted to lie in Samuel's arms this morning, make love to him, and then cook the two of them a big breakfast. But when she awoke before the sun came up and saw that Cheryl hadn't returned her call from last night, she knew she had to come in. Just as she was about to step into the shower and get dressed for work, her phone rang. She looked at the brightly lit screen and was surprised by the contact name that appeared. Councilwoman Harris was calling her.

The councilwoman had canceled her standing appointment a few days ago because she'd been under the weather with a change of season cold. She'd been so sick that she'd forgotten about a city gala she needed to attend tonight, and because she'd missed her appointment, she was in dire need of a wash and blow dry. Geneva told her to come in a half hour after Cheryl was supposed to arrive; that way she could do both their hair in three hours flat and still have time to go home and enjoy the rest of her Saturday.

“I bet that heffa got your message and decided to ignore it,” Donetta said, referring to Cheryl. “She's sneaky like that.”

“You're probably right,” Geneva said with a nod. She spoke her next words in a whisper, just loud enough for Donetta to hear. “This is the last time I'm doing her hair. After I finish her appointment, I'm going to tell her that she needs to find a new stylist.”

“Good for you. And if she tries to get funky with you, you know I got your back.”

Shartell leaned across her chair. “And so do I.”

“You so damn nosey,” Donetta said with a laugh.

Shartell smiled. “But you know you love me.”

They stopped talking when Cheryl walked into the salon. Even though it was cloudy and dark outside, she was wearing a large pair of fashionable sunglasses. She walked up to Geneva's chair and let out a tired sigh. “By the time I checked my messages this morning I was halfway here,” she said with an attitude. “Can you still do my hair or what?”

Geneva thought Cheryl's rude attitude and unnecessary question was nonsensical. “Of course I can do your hair, otherwise I wouldn't be here.”

Donetta snapped her fingers. “Hello!”

Geneva couldn't see Cheryl's eyes, but judging from her body language, she knew the woman had rolled them at both Donetta and her.

“Fine,” Cheryl snapped. “I want you to take this weave out and cut my hair down to a small natural, like you did the first time I came to you.”

Geneva nodded. “Have a seat and we'll get started.”

Cheryl sat in Geneva's chair and slowly removed her glasses. Geneva could tell by the look on Donetta's and Shartell's faces, as well as the customers in their chairs, that something was wrong. She spun the chair around and saw that Cheryl's right eye was blackened and swollen almost completely shut.

The saying, “you never know what someone is going through,” rang out in Geneva's mind, and she instantly felt bad for acting salty toward Cheryl. She'd known that the woman was full of attitude, moody, and obnoxious, and now it looked like she could add abused to that list.

Geneva's thoughts took her back to the first time Cheryl had come into the salon four months ago. She'd been limping and she'd said it was because she needed surgery. But after that day, Cheryl had never limped or mentioned her knees again, let alone the need for surgery. She'd also told Geneva that she'd started seeing a man, but she'd been evasive about the extent of their relationship, which by her tone didn't seem happy.

Geneva gently placed her hand on Cheryl's shoulder. “Are you okay?” she asked.

Cheryl ignored her. “Can you please start taking my weave out. I have somewhere to be this afternoon and you're slowing up my time.”

Donetta, Shartell, and their clients all rolled their eyes, but Geneva simply started doing as Cheryl asked.

Once she got Cheryl under the dryer, Councilwoman Harris arrived like clockwork. “I'm glad you're feeling better,” Geneva told her as she quickly shampooed and conditioned her hair. “You look great.”

“Thank you, Geneva,” the modest councilwoman said. “I feel so much better. It's amazing what a little rest can do. This actually taught me a lesson,” she said with a smile. “From now on I'm going to take at least one day a month to rest my body and do absolutely nothing unless I want to.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” Geneva said. She was about to remove the towel from Councilwoman Harris's head and blow dry her hair when Cheryl appeared.

“I'm dry and I need you to finish my hair,” Cheryl said as she walked up to Geneva's chair, interrupting their conversation.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to the woman whom the entire salon had grown to dislike. Geneva was starting to get pissed. “Cheryl, please take a seat,” she said, pointing to the chair beside her station. “I'll be with you as soon as I finish with my client.”

Cheryl put her hand on her hip and rolled her one good eye. “It's not my fault that you double booked us, and I shouldn't have to wait.”

Donetta stepped in. “You can either sit down or leave. But either way you not gettin' your hair done right now.”

Councilwoman Harris looked uncomfortable as she peeked out from under the towel draped over her head to see what was going on. Geneva could see that one glimpse of Cheryl told the story because the councilwoman turned her head away from the trouble she could see brewing. She quickly offered up her seat. “I don't mind if you finish her up,” she said to Geneva as she eased out of her chair, never raising her head to eye level.

Geneva wanted to tell Councilwoman Harris not to move, but the woman quickly scurried away to a seat in the waiting area. Cheryl took the councilwoman's seat, not bothering to say thank you, and that made Geneva furious. She stood silent for a moment, trying to decide if she was going to finish Cheryl's hair or ask her to leave, when she was startled by a voice she hadn't heard in months.

“What the hell's going on here?” Johnny said.

Geneva sucked in a deep breath of air. The last time she'd seen Johnny he was a scratched-up, bruised-up, bloody mess. His injuries had been the type that looked like they would leave permanent scarring. But as she surveyed him now, his face looked as smooth as the day she'd met him.

“Why is my wife doing your hair?” Johnny said, casting his eyes on the woman in Geneva's chair. He looked as if he'd just seen a ghost.

Once again, the entire salon fell silent.

Cheryl's good eye widened and blinked uncontrollably, but her mouth remained closed and she didn't say a word.

“What's going on?” Geneva asked. “Do you two know each other?”

Johnny walked up to within a few feet of where they were standing and looked Vivana in the eye. “You need to start talking!”

Vivana looked at Johnny and broke into tears. “Baby, I can explain.”

“Baby?!” Geneva said with surprise. She stepped back from the chair and dropped the bottle of oil she was holding. “Are you two seeing each other?”

“Oh, shit!” Donetta said.

Vivana nodded. “Yes, Johnny and I have been dating for almost a year.”

Geneva brought her hand to her mouth and shook her head. “A year?!” she whispered in disbelief. So many thoughts swirled through her head that she couldn't keep them all straight. She looked at Johnny in disbelief. “She just moved here a few months ago. How is it that you and Cheryl . . .”

“Her name's not Cheryl,” Johnny said, glaring at the woman sitting in Geneva's chair. “Vivana, I don't know what kind of sick game you're playing but—”

“Vivana?” Geneva repeated. Once again, her mind began to replay scenes from the past few months. Samuel's wife's name was Vivana, and although he'd never described her physical appearance, he'd painted a detailed personal profile that fit Cheryl's character. Geneva nearly lost her balance when she realized that the woman who Johnny had been screwing all these months was the ex-wife of the man that Geneva was in love with. “This is too much.”

“Geneva, I can explain,” Johnny said.

Vivana jumped up from the chair. “Explain? You don't owe that bitch an explanation. If there's anyone you should be explaining anything to, it's me. Like where the hell were you last night?”

“Bitch?!”
Geneva and Donetta both said incredulously.

“I don't owe you anything,” Johnny scoffed.

“Like hell you don't. You did this to me,” Vivana said, pointing to her face, “and then you left me lying on the ground like a piece of meat.”

Geneva gasped. Johnny had done a lot of immoral and despicable things, but she'd never known him to put his hands on a woman. She looked at Johnny with a new level of disdain.

“You provoked me into it,” he said defensively. “Did you think I was gonna sit around and let you attack and maul me like you did the first time?”

“She's the one who attacked you?” Geneva said, horrified again. She felt as if she was going to faint.

Vivana was oblivious to their conversation and turned her focus back to Johnny. “I waited up all night for you and you didn't have the decency to come back home, yet you managed to come here this morning to see this trick,” she said, pointing to Geneva.

“That's it!” Donetta removed her earrings and reached for an iron out of the stove on her station. She looked directly at the woman she'd known as Cheryl. “If you don't get out of here right now you gonna wish your name was anonymous.”

“Come on, Johnny. Let's get the hell out of here,” Vivana said. “We can work this out later.”

Johnny shook his head. “I'm not leaving with you. I came here to see Geneva.”

Vivana tilted her head and looked around at everyone staring at her. She cleared her throat and held her head level. “Don't do this to me,” she said through clenched teeth. “I sacrificed everything to be with you. I've paid your medical bills and your mortgage, and I've put up with your bullshit. If you don't leave with me right now, I'll never speak to you again.”

“You promise?” Johnny said in a flat tone.

Vivana shook her head. “You're a dead man,” she hissed. She stood silent for a few moments, as if Johnny was going to change his mind. But he didn't. She walked up to him and looked into his eyes. “Fuck you. You're gonna regret the day you ever met me.”

“I already do,” Johnny responded.

Vivana looked as though she could rip his heart out, but instead she slowly turned around without saying another word and walked out of the salon.

Geneva sat in her chair and held her hand to her head. Her heart was beating so hard she thought it would come through her chest. Not in a million years would she have thought that Johnny and the most hateful client she'd ever had were seeing each other.

She was glad that Vivana was gone, but she still had to contend with Johnny. She looked in his direction. “You need to leave,” she said. “Go, now.”

“I just need a word with you, in private,” Johnny said.

“Didn't you hear her?” Donetta said, picking up her hot iron again. “She said leave.”

Johnny glared. “No one was talking to you.”

Geneva knew that neither her strong-willed friend nor her trifling husband were going to back down so she decided to step in. “Johnny, you showed up here unannounced. I don't know why you came and I really don't care. It's clear that you've moved on with your life, so please sign the separation agreement so I can move on with mine.”

“We need to talk about that,” he said. “Please give me five minutes.”

“We have nothing to discuss.”

Johnny hung his head down. “Okay, I understand . . . If you won't talk to me, can you at least walk me to the door.”

Geneva was skeptical, but at this point she was willing to do anything to be rid of him. Plus, she knew that if he made one wrong move every woman in the salon would pounce on him quicker than he could blink. She got to her feet. “Follow me.”

“Don't go anywhere with him,” Donetta said. Shartell even nodded in agreement.

“It's okay. I'll be right back.”

Geneva walked in front of Johnny as he trailed behind her. When they reached the door she opened it and stepped aside so he could leave. “Goodbye.” She turned to walk away.

“Geneva,” Johnny said in a desperate voice that stopped Geneva in her tracks. “I came here today to apologize for everything I've done to you. I never meant to hurt you.”

Geneva had had enough. “I don't want to listen to another word you have to say. You should be ashamed to even show your face. Now leave and don't ever come back here again.”

Geneva was about to turn to walk away again when Johnny reached out and held her by her wrist. “Please,” he pleaded. “Give me one more chance.”

“Let go of me,” she said. She whispered a quick prayer that he would do as she asked, because if he didn't she knew that within a matter of seconds, Donetta, Shartell, and a few others would start circling for blood. “Johnny, if you know what's best for you, you'll let go of my wrist, turn around, and keep on walking.”

“I've changed. I swear I have. I'm not the man I used to be. And if you give me another chance I'll prove it to you. We had something special and I messed it up. But I love you, Geneva. I always have.” He softened his eyes. “You said I didn't know how to beg properly, and you were right. But I know now, so I'm begging you. Please . . . give me another chance.”