Sinful Too (27 page)

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Authors: Victor McGlothin

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BOOK: Sinful Too
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“No, you got the right one this time,” Richard smarted. “Don’t tell me you’re tired of slumming already.” Dior held her hand over the phone to muffle another conversation going on from her end. Richard was highly irritated by her tacky attempt to conceal it. “Dior?” he said. “Dior!”

“I’m — I’m here. Why are you treating me like I have two bucked teeth? Huh? What is the deal with you? Here I was thinking you wanted to see me and maybe talk things over but you’re all funny actin’.”

“Funny actin’? Maybe you can tell me how I should be actin’ after seeing you and some rough-looking dude hemmed up at Boscoe’s.” Again, there was another stream of muffled noises on Dior’s end.

“I told Kevlin that was you leaving the restaurant,” Dior answered distrustfully. “He said I just had too much to drink.”

“Who’s Kevlin and was he right, about you drinking too much?” Richard asked, humiliated after having made both queries. Dior explained her association with Kevlin as one of convenience from time to time, mostly as a connection for party drugs. Dior neglected to mention how she also maintained an on-again off-again sexual relationship with the small-time dealer, however infrequent they actually hooked up. Because Richard wanted to believe Dior’s version of the truth, he pouted instead of going clean off the deep end. “I didn’t like seeing you with him. You deserve better.”

“Like you?” she answered plainly.

“Would that be so bad? I mean, we’ve had some good times,” Richard recounted as the garage door opened. “Real good times.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Richard, but I can’t go back to that, not like it was. I’m tired of sitting at home and thinking about you doing the husband-daddy-pastor thing, I guess. I don’t know which is worse, when you have to go or knowing that you can’t come.” Richard bit on Dior’s sweet-and-sour act, instantly wishing his car was parked at her place instead of in his garage with Nadeen standing in the doorway scoffing at him.

“I know,” he said, ending the call abruptly.

Nadeen weighed and measured his pitiful expression. Her conclusion was guilty as sin. It was difficult to accept what she saw, even though it was glaringly obvious. Richard was a man who could not shake free from the hold Satan used, binding him to Dior. Nadeen was reminded of similar situations, seasoned by her mother’s voice. “Some things are worth fighting for. Others are barely worth fighting over.”

Twenty-five

Gimme One

D
ior placed a caller on hold when interrupted. She hadn’t seen Tangerine for weeks because of all the quality time she had given to Richard. The radio diva voiced concerns regarding the last message she’d left on Dior’s phone. When she didn’t receive a response, Tangie decided to make a personal visit to Giorgio’s to see what was going on for herself. “See there, heffa, I hate it when you think you’re too grown to check in every now and then,” Tangie spat playfully. “I always said if you want to wash the weave, you got to dig way down to the glue. What’s with ducking me like you owe me money?”

The smile on Dior’s lips glistened. “Hey, Tangie. I’ve been meaning to get back at you but I —” she started in before getting cut off abruptly.

“I nothing! We’re supposed to be looking out for each other. What if I was duct taped, bound, and gagged?”

“I’d wait for you to do your thing and call me when you got through,” Dior howled. “Shoot, I wouldn’t want to be running to the phone if I had it like that.”

Tangie laughed once she imagined the scene playing out in her head. “Okay, you got me there. But that does not excuse you from hiding out.” Another telephone line lit up. Tangie glanced at it. Dior waved it off.

“How am I going to catch up with you if I’m expected to answer the calls too?” She smacked her lips rudely then dove back into the conversation at hand. “I’m sorry and I will try to do better. Now that I have my situation under wraps, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Situation, meaning a male situation?” Tangie asked eagerly.

“Uh-huh, a freaky situation too,” Dior added sensually.

“Leave it to you to roll up on something good enough to drop your girl on her head. I won’t charge it to your heart unless he’s got a freaky friend you haven’t told me about.”

Dior wrinkled her nose while trying to recall any discussions about Richard’s close associates. “Nah, I don’t think we’ve ever gotten around to who he runs with but I’ll check on it for you. Yeah, that would be real cool if we double-dated.”

“Don’t play with me now. The man I’ve been schooling for a minute learned all of my tricks then up and bounced,” she admitted scornfully. “You can’t trust some brothas these days.”

“Not with all your tricks you can’t,” Dior huffed assuredly. “Besides, you should save a few of your best stunts for your husband. That’s what I’m doing.” She realized the second her friend sampled that appetizer Tangie would be back in her mouth for the main course.

“Wait a minute, Dior.” She leered suspiciously across the counter. “Why would you be talking about husbands unless you were in the market for one yourself?” Dior played dumb for as long as she could.

“I was just saying, you know how some people, and some times . . . ahh, forget it. There’s been so much going on that I can barely keep track of it. I wanted to tell you about Richard but it never seemed like the right time, and now I’m thinking about kicking it with Giorgio again. I don’t know what time it is. Just last night I hung out with Kevlin.”

“Hold up. You’re all over the place with this. First, you’re getting married to some guy named Richard, who I haven’t gotten a chance to stamp my approval on or run up under my hairdresser’s gaydar. Avanté ain’t been wrong yet. And you told me that thing with your boss was over and done with months ago. Your bed is crowded as hell, Dior. You’d better get a handle on it. And don’t let me get started on Kevlin. He beat on you once, which is plenty for me. Uhhgh, this is so mess up. You make my head hurt.”

Dior folded her arms defensively. “Forget you, Tangie. It’s not easy being me and that’s why I wasn’t in any hurry to dump my dirt on you. I got this,” she hissed angrily. “I’m a big girl, always have been.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” argued Tangie. “This is too trifling, even for you. Call me when you get off tonight. I’ll come right over and step on this mess with both my size tens. Your tracks must be in too tight.” Earlier, she regretted barging her way into Dior’s personal affairs but now she was truly sorry for staying out of her friend’s business for too long. “Real friends owe it to one another to keep a lookout for foolishness, regardless of who it comes from. You’re asking for the kind of trouble you don’t want. Think on it because you’ve got to let somebody go. Too many men is too many men.”

“I said, I got this!” shouted Dior with both hands raised.

“What you’re doing is toxic on so many levels. Oomph, I can’t believe you.”

I can
, Nadeen thought, as she sauntered into the men’s clothing store. “Dior, you’ll have to excuse me. I’m not in the habit of doing this sort of thing but I felt conditions demanded it.”

Dior’s mouth popped open like a trapdoor although there was no escape route to disappear through. “Yeah, it is a trip you showing up at my job out of the blue.”

Tangie was a longtime admirer of the pastor’s wife when her membership resided at the Methodist Episcopal Greater Apostolic Church. Nadeen carried the title of “first lady” well and always dressed to impress. Tangie was taken aback, seeing the woman she’d held in such high regard wearing a jogging suit and sneakers like common folk. “Sister Allamay, it’s good to see you. You might not remember me. I’m Tangie Green,” she announced, oblivious to the reason for her impromptu visit. “I was a member at M.E.G.A. but moved my membership last year. I still miss the pastor’s sermons though. Oh, and the choirs didn’t let me down when it came to lifting voices up for the Lord.” Tangie chattered on amicably while Nadeen’s wicked gaze zoomed in on Dior’s frozen sneer.

“If your friend was warning you against any further interaction with my family, you should listen to her,” Nadeen offered as calmly as you please. She didn’t have to get the whole truth from Richard. Dior couldn’t have sunk her hooks that deep into him unless she’d allowed him to do likewise between her legs. “You do understand this could get extremely dirty. Danger is just the beginning when you stoop to sleeping with someone’s husband. Richard and I have discussed it.”

“Pastor Richard Allamay?” yelled Tangie in total disbelief. “That’s the Richard you were talking about?”

Dior’s eyes narrowed in a sinister manner. “And?” she answered curtly, after feeling abandoned on the battlefield. “If that’s your attitude, you can get gone because I’m not in the mood to be judged by you or this.” She pointed her index finger at Nadeen.

Tangie bowed her head, searching for the right place to stand in the midst of bad gone to worse. “Dior, you’re my girl and I care what happens to you. You’re right. It’s not my place to judge but that don’t make what you’re doing any better. This is killing me. You lied when I asked if you were trying to know him like that. You lied.”

“Don’t you go throwing this in my face,” Dior grunted. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“The pastor of all people, Dior? The pastor!” Tangie clamored disappointedly. “I told you how hard it is for Godly men to maintain with all the lonely church hoochies ready to come up off the panties.” She glanced at Nadeen politely after taking it to the sheets. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Nadeen uttered agreeably. “I couldn’t have said it better myself, Tangie.”

“Thanks for nothing,
Tangerine
,” Dior snapped. “I didn’t think you’d bail on me, snuggling up to Richard’s wife and whatnot.”

“You knew I would blow my top when I found out about you and a minister,” Tangie said assuredly. “That’s why you’ve been hiding it from me and keeping it to yourself. Ooh, this is killing me.”

“I feel you there, sister,” Nadeen cosigned. “And thank you for trying to talk some sense into her. I’ve been respectable although disrespected. I’ve been prayerful and played for stupid. Now, I’m getting tired of being treated like I’m walking around with a tail.” When she reached into her bag, Tangie scurried behind the counter. Dior panicked along with her but refused to take her eyes off Nadeen’s, praying she hadn’t snapped. “Relax. I didn’t come here to take your life, Dior, despite having the right to. I have a proposition. Perhaps this is the time you should ask Tangie to go her own way.” Tangie was happy to make herself scarce seeing as how she thought death was just around the corner moments before. Dior stepped in front of her friend’s path, wisely blocking her exit.

“Uh-uh. She’s staying. Anything you want to say to me, Tangie can hear it too,” Dior announced soundly.

“Alright then, fine with you, fine with me. This is my first and final offer.” Nadeen laid her checkbook down then opened it. She seemed confused when the other two appeared clueless. “Money, that is what you’re after, isn’t it?” she asked Dior, positively sure that it was. “How much would it cost to make this sinful relationship go away? Five? Ten? Fifteen thousand?”

Tangie licked her lips then gulped. “Dollars?”

“Of course I’m prepared to discuss something more drastic if necessary,” added Nadeen earnestly.

“Money?” Tangie asked yet again, when she failed to comprehend the thought of Dior actually getting paid to stop doing something she shouldn’t have in the first place.

“Sure, women like Dior are always in it for the money. I’m willing to make the arrangements tonight, before we’ve all gone too far and there’s no turning back. Karma has a way of taking care of things once they’ve spun out of control, so to speak.”

Tangie cleared her throat then tried to correct what she assumed was a grave mistake in character. “Sister Allamay, with all due respect, I think you’re out of line. Dior has obviously wronged you but she is not interested in taking your money on top of sleeping with your man.”

“You can go now, Tangie,” Dior said without blinking. “Go on, I’ll call you later.” Tangie searched for signs of sanity while timidly passing between the women’s sparing session. Her pace accelerated when there were scarcely any to be found. “Now then, back to the money. How much do you think Richard is worth?”

Nadeen came close to laughing. “For him, I wouldn’t give a nickel a pound. To keep my family together, to keep Richard’s legacy alive and growing through his ministry, I’d give all that I have. His last mistress accepted seven thousand and a Hyundai. Oh, you probably thought you were his first ghetto-queen. Sorry to disappoint you. He’s been with a filthy mutt and come home with fleas before.” Nadeen did pay off Richard’s kept woman, after she threatened to expose the affair in the presence of Nadeen’s parents during a church retreat. Dior was younger and apparently greedier. She would likely want a great deal more than a Hyundai.

“True, I love money and would do just about anything to get paid, kick back awhile, and nest on it. Huh, you knew that though, or you would have made other plans to get rid of me. You rich chicks are something else,” Dior countered craftily. “White or black, you’re pretty much the same. Men run to me because of the things you can’t do or aren’t willing to for them. Richard loves being licked and he’s just as generous when returning the favor. Whenever he gets hungry, I feed him and then I send him on home to you. There’s no point in telling you what really floats his boat. You’re too old and too big to pull it off anyway.” She flung a dirty grin at Nadeen then laughed in her face. “Tell you what you should do: Save your money for the divorce. You won’t ever be rid of me and I’ll never stop giving Richard what he keeps running back for. It started out as fun and games, me and him. Now, I’m in it to my very last breath.”

“Watch your mouth, child,” Nadeen whispered somberly. “That might come sooner than you think.”

No sooner than Nadeen left, Dior disregarded her threats of cosmic reprisal and the horror of reaping what she sowed. As far as Dior was concerned, Karma was the stage name of a stripper who worked the late shift at a raunchy dive bar on the south side. Dooney used to date her.
Nothing is going to happen to me that I don’t want it to
, she thought.
As for Richard, he is different from what I’m used to. He’s crazy for loving me. I’m crazy for letting him, although I wish I could love him like Nadeen does. Enough to come flapping into some other chick’s job talking about get away from my husband or I’ll pay you. What kind of stuff is that? I could learn to dig him that much, only difference would be, I’d bust out the checkbook to have his other lady’s head split wide open. Huh, bet I wouldn’t have to pay that fee but once. I’m tired of dealing with housewives and headaches. I don’t need Tangie to understand me or why I’m staying close to my meal ticket. She’s already got a good job and a little piece of fame to hold her down. I want to be somebody too. Richard’s my pass out of this life of scheming and dreaming. Once I’m out, I ain’t ever jumping back in.

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