The Alex Chronicles:Girlfriends & Secrets (3 page)

It
’
s sad when
you
’
re in love with
someone and they aren
’
t
in love with you. It always makes you feel like
you
’
re less than
competent. Like you
’
re
incapable of making good decisions. At least
that
’
s how I felt.
Xavier always said he loved me, and I foolishly took him at his
word. Why wouldn
’
t I?
It
’
s not like he had
given me any reason not to believe him. That is, until March 28th,
six and a half years ago.

We were
at a dinner party for one of Xavier
’
s biggest clients when a woman walked over and
introduced herself to me as the mother of his three-year-old twin
boys. Who would have thought this white bread, safe man, had a side
piece? I know I didn
’
t.

When I
confronted him, he admitted he was only involved with me because
his father said it would be good for business. The line in the sand
had been drawn. You only get one shot at making a fool out of me. I
went back to the party and made a toast announcing the end of our
engagement. I gave the ring back and left. My friend Taylor said I
should have kept the ring. I considered it, but I
didn
’
t want a lasting
reminder of my incompetence lying around. Besides, the way his
parents looked at him when I made my announcement, gave me the
impression, he was going to need every cent he could get his hands
on.

So I did
what most broken-hearted people do. I threw myself into my work. I
went to Vegas to view some properties, meet with investors and
celebrated my new found freedom. And, that
’
s where I made an even bigger
mistake.

Once I
had completed my business, I decided to indulge a
little
…
enjoy my single
status. Instead of going to the spa like I should have, I went
shopping at the Forum Shops at Caesar
’
s. I really should have gone home. I bumped into
the most beautiful man I
’
d ever seen. Average height, with skin like caramel, a
tight behind, goatee, and the most beautiful dark brown eyes
I
’
d ever seen. When he
smiled, I forgot all about my lying, cheating
ex-fianc
é
.

Mr.
Caramel Delight was there with his friends for a bachelor party
weekend. I smiled, he smiled, and less than forty-eight hours later
we were standing at a chapel saying,
“
I Do", but to who? All I knew about this man was
his name was Orlando I wasn
’
t too sure about his last name...Jones, Martin,
Williams
…
oh yeah,
Kingston. That
’
s right,
my new name, if I choose to use it, is Kingston.

Orlando
Kingston is my trifling, gold digging, idiot head husband. What the
crap was I thinking? Unlike my ex-fianc
é
, he
’
s
horrible on paper. If I didn
’
t love him, I would have left a long time ago.

I
’
m not sure
what happened, but things changed ,and not for the better. Instead
of the loving, compassionate, impulsive and sensitive man I
married, he
’
s become
selfish, trifling, lazy and inconsiderate. Coupled with an
unhealthy jealousy toward my ex-fianc
é
, he
’
s
getting on my nerves.

Considering the commitment both our families have to local
charity work, it
’
s to be
expected we
’
d run into
Xavier.. I don
’
t need to
be constantly questioned about my past relationship and asked if
I
’
m happy I married him.
The more he asks, the more I know he doesn
’
t want me to answer that
question.

Yes,
Xavier was a lying, cheating, son of a
…
I digress. When I see Xavier, I
don
’
t remember the lies
he told or that he cheated on me. I don
’
t think about his side piece and children, or his
scheming family. All I remember is the first time we kissed. Even
now, I still get chills when I remember the first time he kissed
me. He may have been a liar, not much for public displays of
affection, and once we got engaged he stopped going to church, but
he sure knew how to kiss. He knew where that sweet spot is that
makes my toes curl.

Looking
back, I think I knew something was wrong with Xavier, but I was
caught up in the excitement of being engaged. I
didn
’
t want to see what
was really going on. So when I met Orlando...and in that brief
period he said and did all the things Xavier
didn
’
t, I thought...I
mean who goes to church while they
’
re on vacation in Vegas, unless
they
’
re getting married.
He held my hand during the service and didn
’
t flinch, and when he
wasn
’
t ashamed to kiss
in public, I thought he was the one.

Now
I
’
m right back in the
same game but with a different opponent. I should have known there
was a problem when Orlando missed my father
’
s birthday party. He and my father get
along, which already gave him an edge over Xavier. But when he
didn
’
t show up and gave
no reason, I was a little suspicious. I blew it off because I knew
I had the power in the relationship, and whatever he may have been
up to would go away, like a yeast infection.

Well, I
was wrong. This time it
’
s more like hives always popping up at the most
inappropriate time. He thinks because I haven
’
t said or done anything, that
I
’
m fine with his
behavior. Well, he needs to ask somebody, because
that
’
s not so.
I
’
m trying to figure out
my next move. I have thought about poisoning him, but that could
get messy. I
’
m seriously
thinking about asking my cousin, Butch, for a little assistance.
He
’
s the one I call when
I need special help...and Orlando is very special.

In a
perfect world, I would go back in time to the day before I met
Orlando, and take myself to the spa or better yet,
I
’
d come home. Either
option would have prevented me from meeting Orlando. At least
that
’
s what I like to
think. Who knows, maybe meeting him was my destiny. Maybe I was
supposed to spend the past six and a half years of my life tied to
this man.

It all
sounds logical, but the reality is, this relationship was my fault.
God, how could I have been such an idiot head? The next time, I see
a good-looking man with eyes like coal, a carved chest, a tight
behind and an enticing smile, I
’
m running in the other direction
…
after I stare at him a little while.

Now
I
’
m faced with the
results of my lust-filled actions and I haven
’
t got a clue about what to do.

_________________________

Most
people say they regret their high school days or barely remember
their college years. I think that all depends on what school you
went to. I didn
’
t go to
a party school. I went to a conservative college in the
South
…
that I made work
for me. I made sure all of my professors and teachers were men, and
I always flirted
…
subtly.
I also made it a point to get on the VIP list at every happening
spot in town.

There
were only a few good things that came out of my going to school in
Atlanta They included meeting my four best friends and getting my
degree. But let
’
s face
it, after my parents built that dorm, it was a shoo in
I
’
d be
graduating
…
with honors.
Hey, I love nepotism.

It really
didn
’
t matter where they
sent me. I say they because college was my
parent
’
s idea. They
thought if they sent me to college, it would cool me down. Please,
I didn
’
t go to school to
have sex. The only person I wanted to have sex with was Benny. And
he made sure I was more than taken care of every summer.

I went to
college to recuperate from my summer freakfest with Benny, and to
secure my inheritance. I may be the only child, but if I screwed up
too badly, my inheritance could have easily been given away. Or
even worse, managed by a team of lawyers. I wasn
’
t having that!

After
graduating, I took a little time off in Mexico. I was still
distraught over not getting my Benny summer fix. I
don
’
t remember much,
except for a lot of reefer and waking up naked in my hotel room
with a goat in the bathroom. To this day, I
haven
’
t got a clue what
I was doing with a goat. Whatever happened, was incentive enough to
get me to go home.

Once I
was safely back at Jacobs Jail, that
’
s how I used to refer to my parents
’
house, I slipped back into my
old habits, sans the weed and goat. Okay, it
’
s not like I did a lot of reefer. I only
did it for my nerves. As a result of a little self-medicating and
driving a little erratically, I was pulled over. When the officer
approached the car and looked at me, I tried to blame my driving
and slightly dilated eyes on too much cold medicine. I think I
would have gotten away with it, except he ran my plates and all
those tickets showed up.

The
officer impounded my car and took me to jail. I called my dad and
he refused to pick me up. I was a guest of the county jail for
almost two weeks. Thanks to some family connections, I
wasn
’
t in gen pop, thank
God. When I got out, my dad gave me two options...I could work for
him or for my mother. I countered
…
I would have been an excellent lawyer, and asked
for money for my own company. He countered and said I could take
over one of my mother
’
s
companies or be cut off.

“
Cut
off
”…
dirty words. I
agreed to his proposal. I told my friends I was at a spa those
eleven days I was in jail. In a way it was true. I was on a strict
diet and exercise program, doing a lot of
meditating
…
code for
limited contact with the outside world. Okay, I embellished a
little.

Is that
my worst secret? I don
’
t
think so. But then again, I did spend a month in Mexico high on
reefer running around with goat. Man, I wish I could remember what
happened to that goat.

_________________________

So
what
’
s my secret? I
don
’
t have just one
secret, I have many. But the one that could hurt me the most, is
the one that also brought me the most pleasure. If only I could
blame what happened on the reefer and that goat.

I…AM TAYLOR RICHARDS. THE way I said that
made me sound so full of myself. Trust me, I am a very humble and
compassionate person. Ask my friends, and they’ll tell you I am
very loyal. Now I sound like a dog.

Let
’
s start
over. I understand we
’
re
supposed to be sharing about ourselves and our
friendship.

My best
friends
…
that
’
s easy.
Chloe was my college roommate. Alex is my cousin, and I met Dionne
and Kendell at college through Alex. Kendell and I call each other
cousins, because we
’
re
both related to Alex. Alex and I are the daughters of two brothers.
Kendell
’
s father and my
Aunt Connie are half-siblings. It was just a lot easier to say
we
’
re
cousins
…
that
’
s how Alex
introduces us. That
’
s
the long and the short version as far as I
’
m concerned.

I
’
m the only one
of my girlfriends who's divorced, and I am proud of it. Not that
I
’
m happy my marriage
failed, but I
’
m proud I
was strong enough to leave a toxic situation.

My
girlfriends refer to me as the wild one in the group. Just because
I like to have a good time and date younger men. That
doesn
’
t make me some
wild cougar. I am merely playing the hand I
’
ve been dealt. It
’
s quite simple. I have been blessed to not
look my age. I also have the energy of women half my age. Thank God
for good genetics, because I have no desire to be injected or
surgically altered. I don
’
t have a problem working out, because a sister loves some
good cornbread and mac and cheese, but I
’
m not a gym bunny.

I know it
seems no matter what I say I come off a little shallow. Trust me,
I
’
m not. I just have a
lot of confidence and fabulous self-esteem.

My
girlfriends aren
’
t quite
sure what to think about me and I don
’
t care. They know that if and when the crap hits
the fan, I
’
m there for
them. I live in Atlanta and they live in Cali. I told them I keep a
packed bag, emergency bail cash and a gun at the ready.