Hot Girlz: Hot Boyz Sequel (13 page)

“What? Her and Lucinda. Mamma’s fine here.
And you’re not over there permanently, you’re just getting some space.”

“I didn’t tell you that.”

“Maybe I assumed since you won’t talk
to me.” She geared up. “How can you be so cruel as to leave and then say you’re
gonna cut me off from Mamma, too? I dealt with everything when I found out you
were sleeping with the red-headed woman, repeatedly. And not because you told
me, but because I had to play detective after seeing her hair everywhere and
realizing you were cheating on me. You two even had phone sex. Come on. I know
you’re not serious about not coming home.”

“See, when all of that happened you
went through your pain, eventually saying if it ever happened again you’d take
the kids and leave. And now when I have to deal with the reality of what you
did, you act like I owe you a free cheating ticket. Well, I don’t.”

“I didn’t cheat. I need you to hear
me. Please, Mason.”

“Go ahead.” He waited like she should
spit it out.

“No. Not while you’re rushing off to a
meeting, and not over the phone. Meet me later at our spot at the beach in
Palisades about six. Say yes because I’m telling you I can’t live like this.”

“If you’re one minute late, I’m
pulling off.”

“I’ll be there. Love you. Thanks.”

Click.

~~

It was 5:30 and Mercedes pulled up
perpendicular to the lifeguard tower in the parking lot along Pacific Coast
Highway near Temescal Canyon Road.

She sat, making sure her words were
together, making sure to keep it real, making sure not to stumble or seem
deceitful when really the night in question was a blur. She had practiced how
to say it. Say what happened that one night in Vegas. The city that never
sleeps where what happens is suppose to stay there. Only being that the world
is so small, a young girl named Trinity who knew another young girl named Star
spread the word and so it was. Mercedes found herself in Mason’s shoes wishing
things had not gotten out, because suddenly the whole notion of
what you
don’t know won’t hurt you
made complete and total sense.

At 5:59 Mason drove up in his 2010 red
Corvette with darker than legal tinted windows. He pulled up beside her and
turned off the ignition. He stayed inside, and she could barely make out his
face. She got out of her SUV and walked to his passenger side, opened the door
and got in. His dashboard resembled a cockpit. His flashy sports car told on
his mid-life crisis, showing the world that he no longer had small kids whom he
needed a backseat for.

The skin on the back of Mercedes’s
heated thighs pressed again the coolness of the tan leather seats. Her heart
thumped so hard she swore he could hear it.

He smelled like the cedar and orange
zest of his regular I Am King cologne by Sean John. It was so him. She was
addicted to the scent. She was hormonally bonded.

She inhaled him and sighed big,
saying, “Thanks for coming.”

“Talk.” Wearing all black, he leaned
his elbow against the middle console and rested his hand under his chin. He
leaned his seat back and looked out toward the vastness of the ocean.

Mercedes, wearing all white, just went
for it. “Sequoia and I checked into the Planet Hollywood Towers just after one
o’clock. The fashion show I did for the designer, Armani, was at eight that
evening at The Cosmopolitan.

“By the time we got our room keys and
walked through the casino, I called you and left you a message. I knew you were
writing. I think Sequoia and I had played slots for a minute, maybe some
blackjack . . .”

“Get to it.”

Mercedes spoke to the side of his
face. “The first time I saw him was when I was checking in all of the male
models. I knew we had celebrity models but honestly, I’d never heard of him
before. I sent him over to wardrobe. He tried to flirt and I knew it. I wanted
him to know it wasn’t cool. That was after he tried to hold my hand, I think. I
think I told him to never touch me again.”

“LOL.”

“So, anyway, a few people and Sequoia
and I went to this bar called Jet. It was maybe eleven or twelve that night. He
came up to us and asked me to dance. At first I told him no, but then a song
came on, I can’t even remember what it was. I just said yes, thinking one dance
was okay.”

“Slow song or fast?”

“Slow.”

He finally looked to his right, eyes
meeting hers. “And you don’t remember the song?”

“I don’t. I promise you. I was a
little buzzed . . . ”

“Next.” He looked straight ahead
again.

“About halfway through the song I told
him I was going back to the bar where my sister-in-law was, and we stopped
dancing. He walked me back. I told him goodbye and he continued to talk. I had
a quick conversation with him, showing him my wedding ring and telling him I
was married, and that I wasn’t interested. He said he meant no disrespect.”

Mason cleared his throat.

“He walked away and then sent some
champagne over to me and Sequoia.”

He gave a quick laugh. “And you drank
it?”

She answered, “We both did. I only saw
him maybe two more times dancing or standing around and then we left. Me and
Sequoia.”

“And?”

“And we took a cab from the club back
to the tower at Planet Hollywood. Went up to the 24
^th
floor where
our rooms were. I think it was maybe one in the morning by then and our flight
left that morning. Sequoia went on down the hall to her room, and I went in my
room. I called you. You do remember when we talked? I did that because I saw
that I had a message on the hotel room phone. At first I thought it was you,
but you said you didn’t call. After we talked I checked it. It was him.”

“How did he know where you were
staying?” Mason asked in a monotone voice.

“I don’t know. Most of my staff stayed
at the same hotel.”

“And he knew your name?”

“From the show, I’m sure.”

“Get to it.”

“The message was,
This is Ryan.
Hope you don’t mind that I called. Just making sure you got back okay. If you
can’t sleep give me a call. I’m at the Venetian
, and he gave his room
number. Said he wasn’t ready to call it a night. I just, before I knew it, well
I just called him and he offered me coffee, and I’d say within thirty minutes
he was at my door.” She took a breath and swallowed hard.

“Coffee. At one in the morning?”

“Mason, I know it makes no sense, but
my head was spinning and I just opened the door and then he came in, and then
handed me the coffee and then he sat on the sofa. Then I sat on the other end.
I never drank the coffee.”

Mason took his shades from the sunglass
holder near the visor. He put them on and slumped down further in his seat.

“I think I was flattered. He was
younger. Honestly, I’d felt like my days of ever turning heads was over. I knew
it was wrong having him there. I at least felt I kind of knew him from the
show, as opposed to someone on the street. I know that makes no sense. I know
none of this does.”

“You need to nail the ending in three
sentences or less.” He started up the car, looking like his ego was holding its
breath.

“We talked. He sat closer to me, and
he kissed me. A few minutes later he was gone. Nothing else happened.”

“That was four.” Mason paused. Then it
was like his words escaped him. After a few breaths he sat up. “Get the fuck
out of my car before I come around and yank your ass out.”

Mercedes made a move toward touching
his arm. “Mason.”

He grabbed his door knob and pulled on
it, appearing ready to step out.

Mercedes beat him to it, opening the
passenger door and hopping to a stance. Before she could close the door all the
way he backed up and sped off, leaving her standing there in her own insecure,
unfaithful wonder.

The truth had been told, yet she felt
like a murderer more than a cheater.

She felt like she had just admitted to
killing their twenty four year-old marriage with one simple kiss.

14

Venus

“. . . with her fit body and strong legs.”

Seven o’clock in the evening.

A warm, slightly windy night in Laguna
Hills, part of the land known as Rancho Niguel in Orange County proper.

The lush hills, breathtaking beaches
and rich vegetation, as well as the Spanish and traditional architecture, make
Laguna Hills a great place to live.

Claude Wilson had seized the
opportunity to lease an office building on Los Alisos Boulevard. It was located
in a strip mall with enough space to accommodate twelve realtors.

It was the first day of business for
Wilson Realty of Orange County, September 17
^th
, a Friday.

Venus was less than three blocks away,
having driven from Ladera after picking up Skyy from Parent Elementary. Though
she only enrolled a month ago, it was her last day. Venus took a call. “Hello?”

Claude asked, “Are you on your way?”

“Yes, me and Skyy.”

“Good. And Cameron?”

“I called him and left a message.”

“Okay, I’ll buzz him.”

“Honey, he knows about your grand
opening. I’m sure he’ll stop by. I’m not far away.”

“Cool. Park in the front. The valet
guys have spots reserved for you and Cameron. Just tell them who you are.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Just as she hung up,
her phone rang again. “Hey.”

“Hey, Mom.”

“Cam, where are you? Your dad just
asked about you.”

“I got your message. I’m down the
street.”

“Down the street from where?”

“Down the street from the new house.
I’m helping someone move some things from her garage into her house.”

“Who?”

“One of our neighbors. I was jogging
this afternoon and she asked me to help.”

“Oh really? You be careful.”

“Mom. I’m fine. We’re almost done.”

“How old is this neighbor? And where
is her man?”

“I don’t know.”

“How old is she?”

“Mid-forties, maybe. Why?”

Her mind filled with doubt. “All right
now. Come on over as soon as you can. You know how important this is to your
dad.” She pulled into the parking lot.

“Okay.”

“See you in a minute.” She hung up and
rolled down her window as she pulled up. “Hi, I’m Mrs. Wilson.” The surname on
the large black and white sign above the office matched hers.
Wilson Realty
.

“Yes, ma’am. You can just leave your
car right here,” the valet said.

As she turned off the ignition, he
opened the door.

“Thank you. I need to get my
daughter.” She stepped out wearing peep-toe platforms and a peach pleated skirt
with a boyfriend blazer.

“Okay, sure.” He opened the back door.

She leaned into the backseat. “Come
on, Skyy. Wake up. We’re going to see Daddy’s new office. Sweetie, come on.”

Skyy barely opened her eyes, turning
her head back and forth, rubbing her nose. “Is my brother here?” she asked,
squinting as she looked around, acting like the sun was her enemy. She wore
pink with bubble-gum pink fingernails.

“He’ll be here in just a few minutes.
Come on.” Venus unstrapped Skyy and picked her up, allowing her to hold on
tight. Skyy rested her head on Venus’s shoulder. Venus walked up to the office
door as the valet closed the car door. She stepped inside, looking around at
the beautiful new office with gray cubicle walls. “Skyy, this is your daddy’s
new office. Isn’t it nice?”

“Uh-huh,” Skyy said, speaking slowly
while again closing her eyes.

“Hello, Mrs. Wilson,” said Claude’s
assistant, Tina. “You’re looking beautiful. And hi, Skyy. My God, she’s a big
girl. Look how long her legs are.” Her voice was perky and fast.

“Yes, she is. She fell asleep in the
car.” Venus looked at Skyy. “Today was her last day at her school in Ladera.
She starts her new school out here on Monday. Kindergarten.”

“Really? Oh, that’s going to be fun,
meeting new people.”

A short woman walked up. Cute face.
Slim waist. Big hips. Big lips. Dark skin. Dark eyes. Wearing a red wrap dress
and red suede pumps. “Hello, there. You must be Mrs. Wilson.”

“I am.”

Tina said, “Yes, this is Venus. Venus,
this is Mary Phillips. Mary’s one of the realtors here.”

“Hello.” Venus gave a greeting that
was distracted by deep thought.

“Hi, Mrs. Wilson.”