Live And Learn. Niobia Bryant

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СКАЧАТЬ into? I can sure see a man like Rah attending all those corporate functions with you.” Yes, I meant to sound sarcastic.

      Alizé flipped me the bird. Humph, truth hurts.

      “Look here, bougie,” Dom said, leaning forward on her slender knees to look at me with a devilish hint of a smile in her slanted ebony eyes.

      “Put her d’, Dom,” Alizé added.

      I started to tell Dom that someone should put her down, and that she needed to move her child out of the projects, but I refrained. Instead I closed my address book, using my finger to mark the page, and leaned my hip against the desk as I faced my more than outspoken friends.

      “A brotha that works on a job every damn day ain’t feelin’ givin’ up that money like a thug. And you know why?”

      “Do tell,” I said sarcastically.

      “Because a thug don’t give a shit about that easy money. You know what I’m sayin’?”

      Dom looked to Alizé and Moët for backup.

      Moët reluctantly nodded in agreement.

      “She’s right, Cristal,” Alizé chimed in like a sidekick, pulling a grape Blow-Pop from her purse to smack loudly upon.

      “To Rah, or my baby Lex, it’s like a part of their street cred to lace they women with nice shit. They wanna give up that loot. But a brotha gettin’ up out of his bed every day, bustin’ his ass doing forty or sixty hours a week for a check, ain’t feelin’ it.”

      Dom had a habit of hitting one slender fist into her open palm as she spoke, like she was trying to hit her point home. And although I understood fully what she was saying, I was not getting involved with a grown man whose main ambition in life was to develop his street credibility.

      I wanted a man who was husband material and not jail material. I wanted someone who could offer what I lacked the first eighteen years of my life: stability. A man who played outside the law was not any more stable than someone walking a tight rope in the middle of a hurricane. I wanted more than a friend who would spend his money on me. I wanted a wealthy husband. Period. I was talking permanency and security, because if my future husband left me, there was always alimony. Okay? All right.

      The girls kept on lauding their street warriors, and I politely tuned them out, turning my attention back to my address book with a “whatever” look on my face. Using a clear-painted nail, I traced down my list of names.

      Each and every man I ever dated or slept with was listed with a brief bio, and a photo if I had one. I used dollar signs to rate how free giving they were with their money, and stars to rate how good they were in bed. Five dollar signs was a true spender, and five stars was a too-good-to-be-true lover. A combination of both and he was almost a true keeper. I had only one or two of those.

      The man I chose to call had absolutely nothing to do with making me climax until I fainted. This call to Townsend Lakes was all about the Benjamins, baby.

      I met the defensive tackle for the New York Giants about a year ago at one of the label’s release parties. I was not able to get any passes for the girls, and I definitely did not want to carry sand to the beach, so I went alone.

      Looking ever so fine in a red silk Diane von Furstenberg strapless dress that originally retailed for $1,250.00 (I caught it on clearance for a mere $300.00), I stood out in the crowd of half-dressed groupies and overdressed industry elite. That dress drew Townsend straight to me.

      Better known as The Enforcer, he rated two stars and five dollar signs. He was a wall of muscles except where it counted. Unfortunately for him, a four-star, five-dollar-sign man had beat him out; thus ending our five-month relationship.

      It was only Tuesday. I had until Friday morning to get him eating out of the palm of my hand…again.

      “Cristal, we’ll save money if you just drive your whip,” Dom offered.

      I shook my head. “No, thank you. I am not putting all of those miles on my ride. Why not yours?”

      “It’s a coupe.”

      True, but I still was not driving, and my face showed that. Not even bothering to address the issue further, I turned my back on them and picked up my cordless phone.

      I had not spoken to Townsend in a few months, but I knew he would remember me well. I made sure of that…if you know what I mean.

      “Whaddup.”

      “You as always, Huggie Bear,” I purred into the phone, quickly referring to my black book for the nickname I gave him.

      He paused for only a brief second. “Long time no hear from, Cristal,” he said, pleasure obvious in his deep, Barry White like tone.

      “I was so hurt when I heard you were getting married. I decided to help you be faithful to your future wife,” I lied, twirling a lock of my bone-straight auburn hair around my finger.

      “Married?” Townsend balked. “Who told you that lie? Marriage ain’t nowhere in my vocab.”

      Ahem, yet another reason why I dropped him. Even though he loved to spend the money, three hundred pounds with a short penis and no sight of legal commitment did not make me a happy woman.

      “Just a little rumor I caught in the wind,” I told him, turning to wave my hand at the girls as one of them muttered something about me being a good liar. “As soon as I found out it was a lie, I knew I had to call you,” I said softly.

      “You shouldn’t have ever stopped calling me.”

      Okay, my big fish took the bait.

      “I regret listening to that rumor now.”

      “I regret it, too, baby.”

      He was nice and hooked. Now it was time to reel him in. “I guess we have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

      “You damn right.”

      I gave my girls a thumbs-up.

      7

      Moët

      No one could deny that The Greater Temple of Jesus Christ is one of the most grand and beautiful churches in Newark. Massive stained glass walls depict religious scenes straight from the Bible. The pews and woodwork are a gleaming mahogany. Brass adorns every possible accent piece.

      The grandest of it all was the pulpit. It took up the majority of the front of the church and had a feel that was more royal than religious.

      Every Sunday our charismatic leader, Reverend DeMark, held two services to accommodate his ever-growing congregation. Leave it up to my parents to attend both, as well as devotional services and Sunday school. Of course, that meant I was supposed to go to it all as well.

      On the inside, I smirked as he preached on being a good Christian soldier. Mind you, he’d already given me our special signal from the pulpit for me to meet him in his office between services.

      My mother was ushering today, and my father was on the front СКАЧАТЬ