Confessions (3 page)

“I can't believe he acted like that!” I screamed after my best friend brought me up to speed on her relationship with Cory. I was falling out my chair while Trinette didn't look the least bit amused. Well, too bad. How the hell did she expect me to react? I can't believe she really thought she was going to con Mr. Lottery out of his money. Seems to me, he might have already heard about her reputation.

Trinette rolled her eyes. “It's not funny. That nut made me think.”

“Think about what? That you should stop bringing fools home? Damn, Netta, I told you before, don't shit where you sleep. One of these days your actions are gonna catch up with you.” I shook my head and started laughing again. What the hell was she thinking bringing a man to her house? Hello! Did she forget she was married? Okay, maybe Leon doesn't live with her, but not only does he pay the bills, the man also has a key.

She gave me a dismissive wave. “It's not funny.”

I pointed an accusing finger at her. “You're right. It's not funny. You had no business bringing that bum to your home.”

Trinette frowned. “Hell, I didn't have a choice. Cory lives at home with his mother.”

“Oh, my God! That's even worse. Why in the world would you be interested in someone who doesn't have his own place?”

“Girl, what can I say? He had just won a hundred grand, and I wanted some of it.”

“What else is new? You thought he was your lottery ticket.” If she didn't have a degree I would have sworn her ass was slow. The way she uses men sometimes is downright sickening. “The warning signs were already there. If it had been me, the first thing I would have questioned was, if Cory had all that money why didn't he get his own place?”

She rolled her eyes. “Cory told me his mom lived with him because her health wasn't the best.”

“And you believed him? I bet her name pops up on the caller ID.” I gave Trinette a long look. She just stared at me, neither confirming nor denying my statement until she could no longer hold a straight face and started laughing. “Goofy ass! You can be so gullible sometimes.”

When she finally stopped laughing, she said, “Yeah, I know. I wasn't thinking straight with that one. How'd you know the phone was in his mama's name?”

I shifted my eyes and glared at her. “Why you think? Because that's his mama's house, not his.”

Trinette gave me a long, hard look. She hates when she's wrong and I'm right. “All I know is, he better not even try to call me. I can't believe his ass is already broke. That fool can't afford to pay for me to get my nails done. You know I don't have time for a brotha if he can't provide me the lifestyle I'm accustomed to.”

“Accustomed to? Trinette, you forget, you grew up in the projects just like me.”

She cringed at the reminder, then had the nerve to look embarrassed as she glanced over at the table beside us to make sure the couple hadn't overheard. “That was a long time ago,” she whispered. “Now quit talking so loud!”

Our waitress arrived, and while Trinette placed our order, all I could do was stare at my friend and think how stupid she can be at times. She'd been married to Leon Montgomery, a CFO for one of the largest financial institutions in America, for almost eight years. Now, he isn't all that to look at. Leon's got a serious receding hairline and is too skinny for my taste, but he has all the personality in the world to make up for it. I love him like a brother. Have for years. The only problem I have with Leon is that for the last two years, he has allowed Trinette to do whatever the hell she wants, and as a result she has absolutely no respect for him as a man.

“And bring us some more salsa and chips,” Trinette tossed over her shoulder as our waitress departed with our orders. She straightened the cowl-neck of her black knit dress. As always, everything was accessorized all the way down to the diamond bracelet dangling from her wrist. I love her style. One thing about Trinette, she may be a size 16, but the chick can dress her ass off. She has the smallest waist and big perky breasts, and she makes sure everything she wears emphasizes both. I've envied her assets for years.

“When's Leon getting home?”

Trinette pursed her magenta-painted lips in a thin line at the mention of her husband. “He'll be here Friday. I guess I better change my sheets,” she added, then had the nerve to cackle. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't help but to laugh along with her and shake my head. My girl was seriously living on the edge. Because he worked in Richmond, Trinette saw Leon one weekend a month, which allowed her ass twenty-eight days a month to pretend she was single.

I gave her a warning look. “You think that shit is funny, but as I've said to you many times before, one of these days he's gonna sneak up on your ass.”

She tossed a heavily jeweled hand my way. Unfortunately, the one ring missing from her finger was a wedding band. Trinette swears up and down that yellow gold breaks her finger out. Yet it's funny how that sucker is back on her finger like clockwork the second Leon's plane lands at the Lambert–St. Louis International Airport. “Leon would never come unannounced, because he doesn't like surprises.” She gave me a look of satisfaction just as her eyes traveled over toward the entrance. I followed the direction of her gaze and spotted a tall man in a gray suit who had just strolled into the restaurant…alone. I'll admit he was gorgeous and just the way Trinette liked them. Leon was due home and she needed to be trying to save some coochie for him, which meant keeping her attention on our side of the room. I swung the toe of my stiletto boot at her shin.

“Ouch!” She shot an accusing glare across the table at me.

“Stay focused! After Cory, a man should be the last thing on your mind.”

Trinette tossed me an incredulous look. “That will never happen.”

“Well, it should…at least for the rest of the week. You know Leon's home this weekend and he'll wanna talk about you moving to Richmond in June like you promised.”

“I'll just give him some extra loving and he'll forget all about me joining him.” She wagged her brow suggestively.

I took a long, deep breath, shifting my body in the chair before speaking. “Trinette, Leon's been living without you for two years. One of these days he's gonna decide enough is enough and find another woman.”

She raised a finger to chastise me, then looked like she had second thoughts before she finally spoke. “And when he does, I guess it will be time for us to finally go our separate ways, but I don't see that ever happening. Leon loves me. We're already talking about going to Hawaii for Christmas this year.”

Sometimes her overconfidence was enough to make me sick. I love my girl, really I do, but she can be so self-centered at times. Two years ago, Leon accepted one helluva promotion that sent him to the corporate offices in Richmond. Ever since, Trinette has been coming up with every excuse imaginable as to why she hasn't joined him yet. Last September she enrolled in a master's program at Lindenwood University just so she'd have an excuse to stick around at least another year.

The waitress returned with our frozen margaritas and chips. Mexican happy hour once a week had been a ritual of ours for years. I reached for the homemade salsa and poured some on my plate.

Trinette grabbed a chip and popped it in her mouth. “I'm thinking about buying a new car.”

She had to be kidding. “Your Mercedes is less than two years old.”

“You just said it.
Old
. I want that new E-550 I saw on a commercial last night.”

“Oooh! I love that car.” I'm sure the envy was apparent in my eyes. “What color?”

“Red, of course. I think while Leon's here I'll convince him to go over to the Mercedes dealer with me.” I watched her eyes wander briefly across the room again. I snapped my fingers in front of her face, drawing her attention again.

“So in other words, you need him to buy you this new car. Have you even started working on fixing your credit yet?”

“For what? As long as I got a generous husband, who needs good credit?”

I brought my untouched drink to my lips. “If you fixed your credit you could buy stuff yourself and not have to depend on Leon or all those other men to buy you the things requiring credit to purchase. The last thing I'll ever be is dependent on a man,” I replied between sips.

“Leon loves me depending on him.”

“No, you love depending on him. All you have to do is work on one debt at a time and start paying off all those damn credit cards along with whatever else you have on your report.”

She rolled her eyes. Trinette hates me talking about how fucked up her credit is, but come on. She's a grown-ass woman and it's time she started standing on her own two feet and stop using men to provide all her needs. She's married to a financial executive, yet her finances are jacked up. “You need to get it together. You'll be thirty-one next month.”

Her face suddenly became serious. “If it'll make you happy, I will order a copy of my credit report and start working on fixing some stuff.”

“Sounds good.”

You would never guess we grew up in the same neighborhood. Englewood Park housing projects. Two skinny kids with big dreams of living the good life. The path I followed took me a little longer than Trinette. Marriage. College. Years of struggling to make ends meet. Donovan opened a barber shop. A Cut Above the Rest took three years before we finally saw a profit. Then two years ago, I took the plunge and opened my bookstore. Afterward, I started my radio segment,
Truth Hurts
. Life had been a struggle, but finally I'm starting to see the light.

But things were different for Trinette. She knew what she wanted from the beginning—a man who was going to do big things, and skinny-ass Leon was her answer. They met in college. He was smart, was good with money, and had a job, Trinette's top requirements in a man. Back then he let her run over him, and ain't much changed since. However, her behavior was getting out of control. She was screwing brothers for money when she had a husband who was loaded. It wasn't because she needed the money. It was because she enjoyed the thrill of fucking around without getting caught. She also loved the control she had over other people's money.

“You heard anything from Donovan yet?”

Trinette changed the subject, which meant she was tired of me getting in her ass. I decided to play along. I waited until our waitress delivered our food—chicken quesadillas—and moved to the next table before I responded. “Nope. It's pretty clear at this point…. My husband isn't the least bit interested in me or our marriage anymore.” I reached for my knife and fork and focused on my food.

Trinette knew she had hit a sore spot with me and gave me a sympathetic look. “Maybe it's time. You said yourself Donovan pretty much ended the marriage before he was deployed.”

“I know, but I had hoped distance would have made the heart grow fonder.” I gave a rude snort. “Obviously not.”

We'd been having problems for some time, but I had still tried to support my husband and had hoped the time apart was all it would take to bring our marriage back together, but apparently it was all in my head. Our marriage had been dead for a long time. There was too much pain and neither of us knew how to fix it, and I no longer had the energy to keep trying.

For several seconds we ate in silence. I thought about my life a year ago and compared it to life at that point. Sadly, not much had changed.

“The Minority Business Association is having a party next weekend. You wanna go?”

Usually I don't go to social functions like that. Mostly bougie black women trying to outdress each other while acting like they're all that. But I didn't have anything else to do. Tristan said it was time for me to move on, and possibly find some dick in the process. It'd been so long since I'd had sex, I had cobwebs between my legs. “Maybe.”

“It will be fun. We can eat and sit back and talk about folks. You never know, you might meet yourself a nice
professional
man.”

I frowned at Trinette. She had never considered Donovan's barbershop a true profession. “We'll see.”

“Well, don't wait too long. I need to buy tickets in advance. And it's dress to impress, so we can hit the Galleria if you want.”

I nodded. Shopping sounded like a fabulous idea.

After happy hour, we said our good-byes and I watched Trinette walk to her Benz while I moved to my Lexus. “Don't forget. We're going shopping Friday before Leon gets here.”

“Okay,” I yelled over my shoulder. I didn't have the will or the enthusiasm it was going to take for me to move on with my life. I put my key in the ignition and sat there in the parking lot warming up my car long after Trinette was gone. Only a fool sits around and waits on a man, but something kept nagging at me that my marriage just wasn't quite over yet. And as long as I had that feeling, it was going to be hard to let go.

Let me just say I love my job. I really really love my job. I work because I want to, not because I have to, and I make sure everybody knows it.

I strolled in on Wednesday before eight
A.M
. looking fierce of course. I found a slamming burnt orange pantsuit on clearance at Nordstrom for seven hundred. I paired it with a pair of chocolate Jimmy Choos and a thick chocolate belt, showing off my narrow waist. As usual I strolled into the office carrying my morning latte. There was absolutely no other way to start my morning.

“Good morning, Trinette.”

I waved at Chuck, our building security guard, before I turned the corner and stepped into our suite.

The moment I did, I looked over at our receptionist, Claudette, and I almost spilled my latte all over me. And you better believe I would have sent that chick the dry cleaning bill. I don't know what possessed that girl to get red tracks sewn in her head over the weekend. Don't she know she looked like Homey the Clown?

“Good morning, girl.” I swung my fabulous three hundred dollar weave over my shoulder. Showing her how it's done. Only the best for me. Obviously she knew nothing about that.

I strutted through the office waving, being fake. I know half the hoes I work with are hating on my ass. And I'm all right with that. See, I walk with my head held high and strut like my shit don't stink, because it don't. Hell, I can't help it if I care about how I look and they don't. Most of the other case managers at the Division of Children and Family Services walk in looking like they just rolled out of bed. Not me. I get up extra early to make sure I look extra good.

“We've got a meeting at ten today,” Patricia called from her chair as I moved in the cubicle across from her.

“What about?”

She shrugged her wide shoulders, then reached inside a box of Dunkin' Donuts. “Don't know. Yolanda sent out an e-mail to just the case managers.”

Yolanda Webber was our director, so any time she held a meeting, it impacted our workload. We were already over-worked—not that I was complaining. I probably had the largest caseload, but that was because I am good at what I do, and Yolanda recognized my dedication to the job.

“Good morning, ladies.”

“Good morning,” I said under my breath as Maureen Morgan sashayed by, leaving behind a cloud of her expensive, overly sweet perfume. I couldn't help noticing she was wearing a new outfit. Trust me. I know when someone is sporting something new. Maureen had on a honey brown jacket and matching skirt that showed off her slender body and extremely long legs. I would never tell her, but I would do anything to have legs like hers.

“How was everyone's weekend?” Maureen asked as she lowered herself into the chair behind her desk. She had been out of the office all week.

“Relaxing,” I replied.

“Drama,” Patricia said, then raised her brow. She had already given me all the details of her drama-filled weekend with that wannabe thug she was dating. Her life reminded me too much of the ghetto life I left behind.

Maureen fanned her fingers in front of her. “Well, I had a fabulous weekend. Michael and I put a contract on a new house.”

Patricia rolled her chair closer. “Oooh! A new house? Where at?”

“In Webster Grove.” Maureen reached inside her purse and pulled out not one but two flyers, enough for the both of us. “It's more than three thousand square feet, five bedrooms, and even has a sunroom,” she announced proudly.

I stared down at the paper in my hand and the $400k price tag. “Daaayum, girl! What you need this much house for?”

“I like space.”

I looked in envy and found myself wishing for a home like that. I used to have one just like that if not better. Now I'm back living in the same three-bedroom condo Leon and I bought the first year we got married. My place didn't even have enough closet space for all my clothes. Leon had traveled so much, we never stayed in either of the other homes we had bought long enough for me to fully enjoy them. And the second he was transferred due to a merger, we sold it and bought another. The only place we ever kept and used as rental property was the condo. When he was promoted to CFO and announced he would be moving to Richmond, I had returned to St. Louis during the entire transition. But I had long since grown tired of the small condo. I wanted a jetted tub like the one I saw in the picture. I wanted to sit out on a sunporch and watch the sun rise. And dammit, I was going to have it!

“I sure hope the sellers accept our offer. Michael and I are so excited.”

My eyes traveled over to the ten-by-thirteen photograph Maureen kept on her desk of her darling Michael. The first time I saw him, I found myself licking my lips. He was a pork chop waiting to be sucked. Michael Morgan was a former NFL player who now owned a large car dealership. I had spotted him Monday while at happy hour with Nikki and would have gotten his attention if Nikki hadn't been with me. I love my girl, but she doesn't understand the power of the pussy. That's why her ass ain't had none in months, which didn't make sense to me. She's a sexy size 10 with a small waist and the prettiest mahogany skin. Her breasts are too small, but she has enough ass to make up for what she's lacking. Her best feature is her large brown eyes and her locks that are honey blond, long, and gorgeous. Nikki's pretty, which she'd have to be to hang with me. I'm thick, caramel, and luscious, and she's slim and sexy. Together we're a force to be reckoned. Yet instead of hanging with me, Nikki wanted to sit at home, waiting for her husband to call. Now, don't get me wrong, I love me some Donovan, but he was away, and instead of twiddling her thumbs, Nikki could have been finding another way to pass the time. While he was serving our country overseas, she could have been servicing the needs of some rich men in St. Louis.

The phones started ringing, and it was time to get to work. Even while I helped my first client, my eyes kept traveling down to that flyer. By the end of the morning, I was calling a realtor and made an appointment to discuss putting my place on the market. All I had to do was convince Leon. And I knew just how to persuade him. As soon as I hung up the phone, my private line rang.

“DFS, Trinette speaking.”

“Good morning, boo.”

Ugh! No, Cory was not calling me. “Didn't I tell you not to call me no more?” Hell, I'd been telling his ass all that week.

“I know, but I wanted a chance to show you I've changed. I went out and got a new car to prove it.”

Did he really think getting rid of that gay-ass car was going to make a difference? “I don't care if you got a chauffeured limousine! There is no more us, and if your cheap ass calls my job again, I'm calling your mama.”

There was a long pause. The last thing Cory wanted was for me to call Mommy Dearest and tell on him.

“You don't mean that,” he finally said.

“Oh, don't try me. I'll even come over and show her those doo-doo-stain draws you left under my bed!” The phone went dead. I looked over at Patricia, who was trying her damnedest not to laugh. “Stanky ass,” I mumbled under my breath.

She busted out laughing and I joined her. Cory had a lot of nerve calling me after what I found under my bed. I guess his mama had never taught him how to wipe his ass properly. Just thinking about sex with him made my stomach cringe. The things I do for money.

My nine o'clock appointment arrived. I moved into the conference room, which is separated by partitions, and down to workstation three where a chick was sitting. She could have been cute if it wasn't for the hoop earring dangling from the corner of her nose.

“Cimon Clark.”

A pair of hazel eyes met mine. “Yep,” she mumbled, chewing her gum like it was going out of style. “Where's Casey?” she asked. The frown on her face indicated she wasn't too happy to see me. That's just too damn bad. It was time she learned you can't always have what you want.

I gave her a saccharine smile. “Casey transferred to Iowa, so I'm your new worker.”

Cimon rolled her eyes and put a crumpled piece of paper on the counter. “I got this letter saying I need to renew my food stamps.”

I nodded. “Yep. You're required to do so every six months. You bring a copy of your lease and utility bills?”

“Uh-huh.” She passed the documents to me.

I looked through the papers, then went through a list of standard questions. “Do you have a phone?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Can't afford it.”

“Anyone else living in your house?”

“Nope, just me and my three kids. Y'all need to increase my food stamps 'cause three fifty ain't enough to feed four people.” Cimon sounded disgusted.

That chick was tripping, because that sounded like enough food to me. I was typing notes in her case file when I heard Ciara's new song playing. Don't you know that hoochie reached inside her purse and pulled out a cell phone, then had the nerve to start talking.

“Whassup? Giiirrrl, I saw that! Yep. I'm running to the mall in a few.”

No, she didn't. I stopped typing and stared her ass down. “Excuse me, but are you here to handle business or not?”

Cimon had the nerve to suck her teeth and roll her eyes. “Velveeta, girl…I'ma have to holla back.” She hung up, then leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. Velveeta? What was her mama thinking naming her after processed cheese?

I cleared my throat. “I thought you didn't have a phone?”

She had the nerve to try to look dumb. “You said a house phone.”

“I said a phone. I didn't say what kind. If you don't have a job, how you pay your cell phone bill?”

“Why you all up in my business?” She rolled her neck as she spoke.

Did this bitch not know I had the upper hand? “I'm your caseworker, so you best believe I'm gonna be all in your business.”

She looked like she had an attitude for a second, but she had sense enough to shut up. I was already sick of her ghetto ass.

“Do you have a car?” I asked.

“Uh…yeah.”

I tore my eyes away from the screen long enough to look at her. “Okay. What kind of car do you have?”

She hesitated. “I'm driving a 2000 Honda Civic. It's paid for.”

I entered the information in the computer. “Let me go make copies of your documents. I'll be back.” I rose and went to the copy machine, then came back to find Cimon sending a text message. That girl was really pushing her luck with me. As soon as she spotted me, she put the phone away. She better have. “All right. According to the information you provided me, we'll be increasing your stamps to four twenty. They'll be available in two weeks.”

“Thanks.” Cimon grinned like she suddenly thought of something funny.

“Is something wrong?” I couldn't keep the attitude from my voice.

She gave it right back to me. “Nope. Nothing at all.” She stuffed her documents back in her purse, then rose.

Oh, I wasn't done with her. “While you're here, I need you to go to the career center next door and apply for some jobs.”

Cimon looked at me as if I told her ass to rob a bank. “Why I need to do that?”

“Don't you wanna do something with your life other than receiving food stamps and living on Section 8?”

“Fo' what? It cost me more to get a job and pay for a babysitter.” Another chick trying to get over on the system. Women like her made me sick.

“You got three kids, which means you are entitled to full education benefits. You can get a free ride. I wish I could have gotten a degree for free. Did you know you are eligible for child care?”

“Fo' real?” She gave me a greedy look.

“Yeah, as long as you're working or going to school.”

Cimon sucked her teeth and quickly lost interest. Ha! She really thought we were going to pay for daycare while her lazy ass lay around at home with some thug.

I pointed down at the sheet of paper on the counter. “I need you to sign here and here.”

I stared at her pinch braids while she signed. They looked like she had just gotten them done. It would have cost her at least one fifty, but she didn't have money to feed her kids. Did I tell you women like her made me sick?

After she left, I went and took a bathroom break and checked my makeup on the way out, making sure I was still looking good. I was. Before going into the office, I went outside to get a newspaper from the rack out front. It was the week before the Martin Luther King holiday and cold as hell. I dug a quarter out of my pocket and was shivering as I reached for my paper. I was moving back into the building when I spotted Cimon climbing into a bad-ass midnight blue Lincoln Navigator. Before she could pull out of the parking lot, I memorized the license plate, which was easy. C
IMON
. That bitch thought she was slick. Just wait until she tries to swipe her EBT card and comes up short. You got to get up very early in the morning to fool me.