Snapped (21 page)

Steven answered the phone and Misa frowned. “Hi. Put my sister on the phone,” she said, hurriedly.

“Your sister is asleep,” Steven said. “You wanna talk to Shane?”

“Asleep?” Misa frowned. It was well after one o’clock in the afternoon. It wasn’t like her sister to lounge around this late. She reminded herself that Shane could be a handful, and shrugged. “Okay . . . well . . . I’ll be by there to pick him up in about an hour.” She hung up and began to unpack. Before she went back to being a mommy she wanted to bask in the glow of being Baron’s wifey for a little while longer.

She pulled out a negligee she’d worn on their second night in Miami. Misa smiled as she recalled the way that Baron had looked at her when she emerged from the bathroom wearing the short lace nightgown. He’d been so gentle with Misa while they were away, and had toned down his violent tendencies during their sex sessions. True, his anger had resurfaced when he was dealing with some Spanish drug dealers on their first night in Florida. Baron had grabbed one of the men by the throat during a heated argument over money in their hotel lobby. Misa had felt oddly proud watching Baron menace the men in their own hometown. She had never witnessed anything like it, and when he got his way and the men delivered what Baron wanted, he had spent the rest of their trip lavishing her with clothes, cash, and jewelry. His mood had changed for the better, and she was hopeful that it would stay that way.

Now that they were home, Misa wondered how things would be between them going forward. She had visions of being one big happy family—her, Baron, and Shane—and she was willing to do whatever it took to make that dream a reality.

“Check this out,” Lexy said, handing Toya a Nanette Lepore blouse. Alexis “Lexy” Lassiter was one of New York City’s top celebrity stylists. She worked with all the A-listers, and was in such high demand that Dominique had had to pull every string she had in order to get this appointment with her. Toya’s trip was a week away and they had no time to waste. They had already picked out a Tracy Reese dress, Tory Burch sandals, and a pair of Bottega Veneta sunglasses. But they still had a lot of work to do.

“I like this!” Toya proclaimed, holding the canary-colored fabric in her hands. “What else you got?”

Lexy pulled out a Cavalli dress, which Toya snatched up as well. After grabbing a pair of Moschino jeans, an Allen Schwartz minidress, and a Marc Jacobs sheath, they were finally done. Toya couldn’t believe that all of this shit was free! All Dominique had to do to get it was agree to use Lexy solely as the stylist for the new “it” R & B sensation Kiara. It was days like this that Dominique loved her job. After securing a Dolce&Gabbana dress and Versace pantsuit for herself,
they were done. They felt high as they stepped out onto Fifth Avenue and hailed a cab.

Once inside, they giggled like schoolgirls. “That was
fun
!” Toya exclaimed. “You do that shit all the time?”

Dominique shook her head. “Not really. I try not to take advantage of my position too much. But every now and then if I need something for a special occasion or for a special trip, hell yeah!”

“Damn, you’re lucky! I just walked out of there with like eight thousand dollars’ worth of clothes, and we didn’t come out of pocket at all! I’m not used to shit like that.”

Dominique smiled, happy that Toya was pleased. It was hard to impress Toya. She already had a fabulous wardrobe, drove a luxury car, and lived in a beautiful brownstone. As a high-end real estate agent, she was accustomed to the finer things in life. But paying for expensive things and getting them for free were two entirely different things. Dominique was happy to share her good fortune with her friend. As they pulled up at Waverly Inn, an exclusive New York City eatery, both women were euphoric. There was nothing as satisfying as retail therapy.

They were seated right away, since the place was relatively empty on a Wednesday afternoon. They ordered and sat back, and Dominique felt strange. “It feels weird being here without Misa and Camille,” she said.

Toya rolled her eyes. “Oh, Lord.” She waved her hand, dismissing her. “Not to me. I’m sick of hearing Camille’s naive ass talking about how Frankie is so wonderful, being married is so wonderful, and how she feels so fuckin’ sorry for us. Please!”

Dominique waited until the waitress set their drinks
down on the table and left before responding. “You think Frankie’s cheating on her?”

Toya looked at Dominique like she was crazy. “You can’t be serious. He’s definitely fucking Gillian, and Camille is too dumb to see it. Personally, I don’t think she cares. In her heart of hearts, that bitch knows he’s cheating. But would you say a muthafuckin’ word if you were living in that house and sleeping with that sexy son of a bitch and you had a Bentley parked in your four-car garage? You would play dumb, too.”

Dominique laughed. “Ya damn right I would! He could fuck that bitch on the bed next to me and I wouldn’t say shit.”

Toya laughed. “That’s ’cuz you don’t love him. And if I were Camille, I wouldn’t love his ass, either. I would never love a guy like that. When you’re dealing with a man of Frankie’s caliber, you can never get your feelings involved. Never. That’s rule number muthafuckin’ one.”

Dominique nodded, cosigning. “True. But women can’t turn their emotions on and off like that.”

Toya almost spit her drink out in her haste to respond. “Who can’t?” She shook her head. “I don’t deal with emotions at
all
! Those days are over.”

Dominique smirked. She knew that Toya liked to come across as rough and tough. But she suspected that underneath that steely exterior lay a soft and pink side. “You can’t help who you love,” she said.

Toya wanted to throw up, but resisted the urge. “You have so much to learn.”

“Seriously, Toya. I love Jamel. And I can’t even help it. I try to tell myself to put the brakes on and try to slow down
and not get too serious about him. But that doesn’t work. When I’m with him I feel complete. I know he’s the one, so why should I fight it?”

Toya wasn’t sure if she should slap her friend or put her in a straitjacket. She stared at Dominique intently for a long time before she spoke. Finally, she said, “You know what, Dominique? I worry about you. All this time that we’ve been friends . . . all this time . . . you’ve been watching how I get down. So even if you were a dumb bitch before you met me, by now you should know better. What the hell do you mean, ‘you can’t help who you love’? What the fuck part of the game is that?”

“I’m saying—”

“You ain’t saying shit! That’s the problem.”

“ ’Cuz you won’t let me get a word in, Toya!”

“For what? So you can say some more dumb shit?” Toya saw a look of hurt pass over Dominique’s face and felt slightly guilty. Dominique
was
saying dumb shit, but Toya knew that she needed to have more patience with her friend. But times like this and statements like that made it hard for Toya to keep her mouth shut.

“All I’m saying is, don’t sell yourself short, girl. You’re trying so hard to lock this fool down as if he was 50 Cent or somebody. You might love him, fine. But not so much that you should be fiending for him. He ain’t even that cute!”

“Cute isn’t everything.”

“But it’s something, bitch! At least if he’s cute, you can rationalize losing your mind over him. But Jamel is very average, and I’m being generous! Why would you sacrifice your pride for a man like that?”

“You’re just mean, that’s what it is.” Dominique smirked and sat back as the waitress brought their lunch to the table.
When she was gone again, she said, “I don’t want to grow old by myself, Toya. So if I find a man and he’s a good catch—like Jamel is—I’m gonna hold on to him. I don’t care what you say.”

Toya looked at Dominique and shook her head. “You’s a dumb bitch!” Toya proclaimed, slipping into her Ebonics. “And I mean that shit, Dominique. You’re too young to be worrying about growing old by yourself. You haven’t been listening to me at all. ’Cuz if you were, you’d know that you can’t force a man to want you. If Jamel thought you were as good of a catch as you think he is, there wouldn’t be any miscellaneous bitches on his visiting log.”

“See?” Dominique said, chewing her salad. “That’s why I can’t tell you shit. Every time I share my feelings, you make me regret it.”

Toya smirked. “Don’t be mad at me ’cuz I tell it like it is.” She picked at her salad.

“I’m not mad,” Dominique clarified. “I actually enjoy your honesty most of the time. But friends are supposed to be able to listen to each other without judging. You can’t ever do that.”

“I don’t judge you, Dominique,” Toya lied. She thought about the ton of clothes she’d just gotten for free on the strength of her silly friend and decided to soften her approach. “Look, if you wanna be a dummy all your life, then go for it. I won’t say another word. You and Camille can make whatever decisions you want about the men you love. I still love y’all the same. Just don’t come crying to me when the bastard breaks your heart. ’Cuz all I’m gonna do is remind you of what I told you.” She sipped her water and looked at Dominique seriously. “Until then, I won’t utter another negative word.”

Dominique rolled her eyes and ate her lunch in silence, knowing that Toya keeping her mouth shut was wishful thinking. It was just a matter of time before Toya would be offering her brutal opinion once again.

Gillian sat with
her toes in the nail dryer on the floor and her fingers carefully perched in the hand dryer in front of her. She was happy with her manicure/pedicure, and in love with the new shade of red she’d found at the Chanel counter. It made her nails look inviting without seeming trashy. Her Cole Haan bag sat on the seat beside her, and she watched
Access Hollywood
on the plasma TV hanging on the wall. Britney Spears was making another comeback, by the looks of it.

She heard the clerk greet a client who had just arrived, but she didn’t bother to look away from the television. Not until she heard a voice say, “Hi, Gillian. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Gillian looked up to see Camille Bingham standing next to her wearing a Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress, sparkling diamonds, and a phony smile. Gillian’s smile was equally fake as she greeted Frankie’s wife. “Camille, how are you?”

“Great,” Camille replied. “And you?”

Gillian nodded. “Fine.” She noticed that Camille had her hair pulled back today, revealing the beginnings of a double chin. The diamond sparklers in her ears did little to detract attention from the extra skin hanging beneath them, Gillian silently mused. “You come all the way to Midtown to get your nails done?” She couldn’t understand why she had to run into Frankie’s Stepford wife at her favorite day spa when they lived boroughs apart.

Camille shrugged. “I had a free day, so I decided to try out this place because my friend Toya came here and bragged about it. I’m making a full day of it. Mani/pedi, massage, the works.” Camille smiled again, phonier than before. She was battling her growing feelings of jealousy toward Frankie’s beautiful best friend. But it was hard, especially at times like this when Gillian was looking so lovely and smiling so fake.

Gillian nodded. “Have I met your friend?” she asked, trying to recall if she had ever heard of Camille even having friends. It had always seemed to her that Camille lived so much in Frankie’s world that she had abandoned her own.

“I think so. Yes, at my birthday party.”

Gillian nodded, still not recalling Camille’s friend. An uncomfortable hush fell between them, and both women searched for ways to fill it. “So,” Camille said, playing with her hands awkwardly. “I hear that my sister has been spending time with your brother, Baron. Who would’ve predicted that?”

Gillian smiled, her pearly white teeth sparkling brighter than her lip gloss. “Yeah, you’re right. Who knows? Maybe she’ll get him to settle down.” Gillian doubted it. She hoped that Camille and Misa were aware that Baron wasn’t the settling-down type. Misa was by no means the only chick that Baron was involved with.

“Well, what about you? Don’t you want the same for yourself?” Camille smiled. “To settle down, I mean.”

Gillian wasn’t sure how to answer that question. She was tempted to tell Camille that the only man she could imagine having such a life with was already married—to her. She nodded slowly. “Yeah. I do want that. I’m just not in a rush to find it.”

Camille nodded. “Are you still seeing the stockbroker?”

Gillian smiled, since Frankie had obviously been discussing her love life with his wife. Camille had never had a conversation with Sadiq, so there was no other way she could have known his occupation. “Yes, we’re still dating. He’s a nice guy. But like I said, I’m in no rush to get serious.”

Camille was sorry to hear that. She wanted Gillian married and pregnant so that she could stop monopolizing Frankie’s time. “Well, I know that your mother would plan the wedding of the century for you.”

Gillian laughed and nodded. “She sure would. She loves to throw a huge party.”

“Speaking of which, Frankie told me that your parents are having a big anniversary party soon. You must be excited.” Camille wasn’t looking forward to another Nobles family function, but Frankie was insisting on being there. She certainly wasn’t letting him go alone, so she was searching frantically for something to wear as the date of the event neared.

“Yes,” Gillian nodded. “Twenty-eight years of wedded bliss.” She slipped her feet out of the nail dryer and watched as the nail technician ensured that they were indeed dry. Turning her attention back to Camille, she asked, “You’re coming, right?”

“Of course,” Camille answered, fingering the platinum necklace she wore. “Wouldn’t miss it.” She watched Gillian slip her feet into her shoes and slide a tip to the lady who had serviced her. Gillian stood up and Camille smiled, taking it all in. Gillian’s curves were legendary, and the jeans she wore only highlighted that fact. Her ass looked bigger than ever. The tight blouse and Gucci belt she wore accentuated her tiny waist. Camille fought the urge to hate.

“Great,” Gillian said, smiling. “I’ll see you there. Take care.”