Hot Boyz (18 page)

He asked, “Did you have fun tonight?”

“Yes, I always have fun here. One day you’ll be able to enjoy your own club and not have to work so hard.”

“I hope so. Perhaps it is better to be running around than sitting around, trying to pull patrons in off the street.”

She reached in her purse to find her valet ticket. “I guess so. Anyway, Torino, thanks for inviting me. I’ll talk to you later.” She leaned in to give him a hug and he put his hands on each side of her waist to stop her.

“Sequoia, I really am sorry about dinner. Did you get to order anything?”

“I had a Thai salad and some great Chardonnay. Thanks a lot for taking care of that.” She noticed Torino’s frown. “What’s wrong?”

“Next time…”

She interrupted him, almost as if she didn’t want him to answer her question after all. “Torino, I have to get going now.”

“Okay, but will you do me a favor?”

“What?” she asked, prepared to step away.

“Just would you?”

“What, Torino?”

He touched her arm as if to direct her eyes to his. “Come home with me.”

She broke the glance. “Torino, please. You have got to be kid-ding.”

“Sequoia, I’m not kidding. I just want to spend some time alone with you. I really need that tonight and I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance earlier. Please.”

“You don’t want to be alone tonight?”

“No,” he said with his voice, his eyes, and his touch.

She waited for a second, and then answered almost as though she was still unsure. “Okay, Torino, I’ll bite. What time do you get off?”

He shook himself out of doubt mode and replied. “I’ll be leaving in about twenty minutes. Will you wait?” Now both of his hands embraced her hand.

She pointed. “I’ll wait right here by the door.”

He suggested, “Or at the bar. Order whatever you’d like.”

She shook her head. “No more bar for me. I’ll take a seat right here. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

“I’ll be right out. Thanks, Sequoia. You can follow me in your car, right?”

“No problem,” she said, taking a seat on a red high-back chair near the entrance. She placed her tiny gold bag in her lap, crossed her legs, and smiled as Torino walked back toward the kitchen door. He looked at her for a moment, his glance on her never-ending, firm-looking legs, and smiled back. He disappeared through the double steel door just as the DJ announced the last song for the evening, “Hot Boyz” by Missy. Sequoia looked around at all of the die-hard clubbers who started to exit, bobbed her head without even realizing she was mouthing the words and sang along, “Where you live, is it by yourself? Can I move with you, do you need some help? I cook boy, I’ll give you more, I’m a fly girl, and I like those Hot Boyz.”

At nearly two-thirty in the morning, Sequoia pulled up behind Torino’s car in Mason and Mercedes’s long driveway. She got out and walked with Torino as he led the way, holding her hand while they quietly headed toward his door. They stepped inside and she took a seat on his tan sofa. She wondered what the heck she was doing there. “So, now what?”

“Now what, what?” he asked, turning on a couple of lights.

Sequoia tried to figure it out, as if she didn’t know. “Did you invite me over to watch a movie, talk, play checkers? What?”

Torino placed his keys on his bar and took off his suit coat, hanging it up in the hall closet. “I invited you over to spend a little time together.”

She looked around at all of his burned-to-the-quick candles and half-burned incense. “Is this how you get all of your honeys to come back with you after work? You offer them breakfast and then tell them they should sleep at your house since it’s getting late?”

“First of all, I did not offer you breakfast.” He turned on the stereo. The smooth Hiroshima CD was number one.

“Oh, you know better than to play game with me. Or maybe it would have been better than ‘follow me’,” she mocked.

He ignored her attitude, almost used to it by now. “Would you like something to drink, Sequoia?”

“Like what?”

“What would you like?” he asked, walking toward the tiny kitchen.

“What do you have?”

He opened the refrigerator door, peeked in and told her, “Water, orange juice, Kool-Aid, red wine, rum and Coke, brandy, whatever.”

She was still acting suspicious. “Alcohol, huh?”

“And non-alcohol.”

She took off her pointy, golden ankle-strap shoes. “Torino, let’s just get it over with.”

“What?”

“Give me a break. You know you want it as much as I do.”

He walked toward her and stood near the television, turning it on as well. “What? Some Kool-Aid? Yes, that is exactly what I’ll have. A nice, tall, cold glass of grape Kool-Aid. And I’m pouring one for you, too, just so you can cool off.”

“Screw the Kool-Aid, Torino. Come on so we can get the fucking over with.”

“Sequoia, why do you always have your guard up? Why do you always think somebody wants something from you? Why are you so damn angry?”

She sat back, leaning on a round sofa pillow. “I’m not angry. I’m just hip to the game.”

“And how many men have run this so-called game on you that made you so hip?” He stood over her.

“Why are you worried?”

“Because you give me the impression that you’ve been used.”

“Used up?” she asked. “Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“No, damn it. I mean taken advantage of by some men who think they need to add you to their list of conquests because you are so damn fine. But what they don’t see is that having a woman like you on a regular basis is worth more than having you for one night. I’m not interested in a one-night stand with you.”

She actually lowered her volume a notch. “What do you want from me, Torino?”

The phone rang. It rang three times. Sequoia looked to Torino. He looked back at her.

“The machine will pick it up.”

“I didn’t say a word. I know why you get calls this time of night.”

He didn’t reply. He sat on the love seat, making sure to not sit on the sofa she was on. He sat on the edge, trying to lean toward her. “Here’s what I want you to do. I want you to calm down and relax around me. Stop fighting the feeling and just breathe. I’m not gonna hurt you. We’ve known each other too long for that bullshit.”

She looked him dead in the eyes. “Torino, do you consider yourself a player?”

“I’ve been in a relationship for a couple of years. Does that sound like something a player would do?”

“Were you true to her all those years?”

“No,” he admitted without hesitation.

“Why didn’t you marry her?”

“Because I didn’t want to.”

“Oh, you didn’t want to. But she was good enough to call your woman, just not the mother of your kids.”

“You could say that.”

“And what separates a woman who’s good enough to just screw from one who’s good enough to be the mother of your children?”

“I feel like I’m being interviewed by Barbara Walters.”

“I’m just trying to get to the core of what your intentions are.”

“Fine, Sequoia, let me see.” He leaned back, looking like he was searching for the right answer on the ceiling. “Probably a woman of virtue who would inspire a man to give up his bachelorhood, not make him do it. How’s that?”

Sequoia paused and then spoke. “Do you love her?”

“I think so.”

“You think so?” she replied loudly.

Torino stood up. This time he got louder. “Calm down, Sequoia. Your feisty attitude must have scared the shit out of many a man through the years. But you’re not gonna scare my ass away. I know you.”

“What do you know?”

“I know that you’re hiding something behind all of these questions and this mean exterior. You’ve been hurt, probably a few times.”

“Oh, like you don’t know.”

“What makes you think I know?” This time he sat on the arm of the sofa.

“Mercedes has told Mason about how Bobby dogged me. Mason told Claude. And Claude told you.”

“My brothers and I have a lot better things to do than gossip about which dude tripped out on you.”

“It takes a tripped-out dude to know one. Like your ass was ever faithful to Colette.”

“I admit I’ve had to use my B list from time to time. And I’ve met some women who I thought might be able to move Colette out of position. Yes, I’ve had my share. But that crap gets tiring.”

“Your share of what?”

“My share of pussy. I always say, pussy is like eating cheesecake all the time, day after day. It tastes good but it’s too rich.”

“So, you’re tired of the cheesecake?”

He said it in her words. “I’m tired of the cheesecake.”

“What are you in the mood for?” Sequoia scooted over to lean toward him this time.

“Something different. And I’m warning you, that’s your last question for the night.”

“So now you’re into something different. Something so different at a time when I bring my big ass to your place after all these years, ready to let you rock my world. And that was a comment, not a question.” She smirked.

“That’s what you came here for?”

“Duh, nigga, it’s three in the morning. I’m not one of those women who come up to the hotel room and then say, I didn’t want to give it to him, he just took it. Bunk that. I’m a grown ass woman and you’re a grown ass man, Torino. You know why I’m here.”

He stood up. “I’m here to eat some pizza and drink some Kool-Aid. I have these slammin’ Wolfgang Puck frozen pizzas. The barbeque
chicken one is about to get devoured. I’m sure you brought your hunger along with your hominess.”

“I am not horny.”

“Okay.”

She grinned again, seeming to lighten up. “Okay, I am horny. But I can cure that with one phone call.”

“And so can 1.1 didn’t ask you over here for that. Let’s just chill.”

“Just chill. And that was not a question either.”

“Whatever you say. I say yes, let’s just chill, Sequoia, and talk, and eat pizza and drink purple Kool-Aid.”

She looked up at him with wondering eyes. “And drink purple Kool-Aid?” she asked.

He gave her a look.

She rephrased her words. “Okay, I mean, let’s drink purple Kool-Aid.”

“Yes, purple.”

She let out a powerful breath. “I am sort of hungry, Torino.”

“Cool.” He went back into the kitchen and removed a cardboard box from the freezer, placing the pizza on a cookie sheet. He set the temperature on the oven and put it inside. Within forty-five minutes, they were eating and drinking, seated on his sofa, together, talking over the volume of the Dave Koz CD playing to a volume-less, old
Martin
episode on his wide screen television.

As the sun started to rise, Sequoia yawned and rested her head back on Torino’s soft, cushiony sofa and closed her eyes. Torino took his chenille cover and placed it over her, rotating her head around to rest on a bed pillow.

He proceeded to his room, keeping one eye on the vision of her surrender, and closed the door. After that night, Sequoia basically, never left.

After an evening of hot, passionate sex where Mercedes’s fantasies were racing as usual, she lay on her back, wearing only a black lace thong. She fanned herself with her hand to cool and dry her sweat and propped the pillow behind her head.

Mason laid down butt naked. He turned on the TV to watch the golf channel. She remembered to tell him about Sequoia. “Mason, Torino broke up with Colette.”

“I’m not surprised. She’s a hot head.”

“And, you are not going to believe it but Torino actually asked me for Sequoia’s phone number.”

“For what?”

“That’s what I wanted to know. You’d think so they could sign up for a WWF match and beat the hell out of each other.”

“I’m telling you. That boy admitted that he likes her.”

“He sure did.”

Mason scooted up to lean back against the headboard. “Man, I was blind to that one. They’re pretty much the same age but I’ve just never even noticed an actual spark between them. Only darted stares. If they ever got together, there’d be a 5.0 earthquake in Los Angeles.”

“Well, perhaps he had this lightbulb moment about her and wants to give it a shot. I gave her his number.”

Mason spoke his opinion. “You women are so protective of each other. You could have just given him her number.”

Mercedes replied with spunk, “He asked me, not you. Can I please handle it the way I want to?”

“No problem.” Mason continued to stare at the television.

“Mason, do you think Torino is a cock-hound?”

“A cock-hound? Where did that come from?”

“It’s just that he’s so fickle and he never seems satisfied. I’m just worried about my best friend.”

“I think if anyone can handle Torino, Sequoia can.”

“True. But I’ve seen Torino with a whole lot of women. He goes through girls like a starving man devouring a Krispy Kreme donut.”

“He’s not that bad. He was with Colette for a long time.”

“Like I said, I’ve seen him with a whole lot of women, even while he was with Colette. Sequoia’s like a sister to me. I don’t want her to get hurt, baby.”

“I can’t guarantee that she won’t now. That’s on her. But she’s
known him long enough to know what she’d be getting into. Why did you tell him you’d give her his number if you have this much doubt about him?”

“I was just hoping that he’s gotten all of his running around out of his system like you and Claude did years ago. After all, he’s not getting any younger. He needs a good woman.”

“You’re right about that. Even the woman-crazy brothers eventually get tired of one-nighters and cheap thrills.”

“Do me a favor, please, and ask him what his intentions are.”

“I’m not Sequoia’s father, Cedes. That’s not my place.”

Mercedes stood up to go into the bathroom. She still looked concerned.

Mason watched her strut her rear end in front of him. He checked her out from the waist down. “All right, I’ll pry a little.”

“Thanks, baby.”

He stood up and stepped into his pajama bottoms. “Do you want anything from the kitchen?”

“Just a few graham crackers,” she yelled his way.

“Sounds good. I’ll be right back. And I say go ahead and hook them up.”