Material Girl (9 page)

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Authors: Keisha Ervin

BOOK: Material Girl
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“Are you fuckin’ kidding me? I’m outta here. Come on, Fuck ’em Gurl.” Dylan left the room, fed up.
“How do you spell Dylan?” Candy yelled behind her. “
M-E-A-L T-I-C-K-E-T
!”
 
 
Decked from head to toe in Gucci, Dylan roamed carelessly throughout Neiman Marcus. Buying stuff she didn’t need was the only thing she could think of that would make her happy. The stuff her mother said really had her thinking. Did State only see her as his Miss She Ain’t Going Nowhere? Was she the one woman in his life that he knew he could always run to? Dylan certainly hoped not. She hoped that his feeling for her were more than that. But what if her mother was right for a change? If so, she was only setting herself up for failure. The last thing Dylan wanted was to be left on the losing end of the stick again.
Tired of pondering her circumstances she picked up a Judith Leiber clutch purse. Her cell phone started to ring. By the ring tone, she knew it was Billie.
“What up, hooker?” Dylan said.
“Good afternoon to you too, Dylan. Where you at? I just tried callin’ your house.”
“At Neiman’s.”
“Yo’ ass ain’t gon’ never learn.”
“Whateva. What you doing?”
“About to run out to the museum board’s monthly meeting, but I wanted to call and make sure you weren’t over there on suicide watch,” Billie said, applying another coat of lipstick.
“I’m good,” Dylan lied.
“Has he called you yet?”
“Yeah, he did this morning, but I don’t even care,” she lied again.
“What he say?” Billie was dying to know.
“Same ol’ same ol’. He got caught up, his bad.”
“Wow, isn’t that original.”
“Girl, fuck State. Ain’t nobody thinkin’ about him,” Dylan spat, knowing she didn’t mean it.
“That’s what your mouth say, but how do you really feel?” Billie pressed.
“I mean, it is what is. He played the fuck outta me. And you were right. The same shit he pulled the first time around, he’s doing all over again. Except this time, I’m not putting up wit’ it. Shit, I deserve more. Plus, I’m just through with the situation.” Dylan tried to convince herself.
“I most certainly hope you are, ’cause I don’t want to see you get your feelings all into it only to go through the same ol’ played-out bullshit all over again. All that carrying on about how much he love you is a bank full of bullshit.” Billie put on her heels. “It’s obvious that his feelings are not deep into it, ’cause if it was, he wouldn’t have done you like that. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was wit’ another chick last night.”
“Right,” Dylan agreed, praying that wasn’t the case. Her heart wouldn’t be able to take it.
“Anyway, next week I want you to go wit’ me to pick out the twins’ birthday gifts. You know they love the way they auntie dress.”
“Yeah, maybe we’ll do lunch afterwards at the Four Seasons,” Dylan responded, still trippin’ off what Billie said about State being with another girl.
“Sounds like a plan. And, Dylan, please don’t spend a lot of money,” Billie advised.
“I promise I won’t.” She crossed her fingers.
“A’ight, well, I’ll holla at you later.”
“Billie, no one says holla.”
“Oh, well, I’ll get at cha then.” Billie tried to be hip.
“Bye, girl.” Dylan snapped her phone shut. “Excuse me.” She stopped a salesgirl.
“Yes.”
“How much is this?” She held up the clutch purse.
“One thousand five hundred and ninety-five dollars.”
“I’ll take it.”
“I’m tryin’ hard to hold on to us, but it seems like you don’t wanna stay.”
Ledisi, “Turn Me Loose”
 
Chapter 9
 
In order to keep her mind off of State, Dylan avoided any time she would have to spend alone with herself. Instead, she drowned herself with unnecessary shopping, costly massages, social events, and countless glasses of champagne. Escaping thoughts of State worked during the day, but when it was time to go to bed at night, he invaded her mind. Dylan hated every second of it. She wanted nothing more than to erase the memory of his sly grin, the way he pulled her into him at night and held her close. The lips of her pussy ached for the sensual lick of his tongue. She missed riding up and down on his dick while his fingertips toyed with her hard nipples. But all of that was over now. He’d try calling, sending flowers, texting her non-stop, and sending emails, but Dylan was determined not to let him back in her life.
With her signature bob flat-ironed to perfection, Dylan gave herself one last look in the mirror. Pleased with the way she looked, she blew herself a kiss then turned off the bathroom light. Dressed to kill, Dylan grabbed her new $250 shades, purse, and keys, and then left out the door. She was headed to Saks Fifth Avenue to meet up with Billie.
After taking the elevator down to the first floor, she got off and headed to the front entrance, where her driver, Tony, was to be waiting. To Dylan’s surprise, Tony wasn’t there. In his place stood State, leaning against his Maybach with the biggest bouquet of flowers she’d ever seen.
Shut the front door,
she thought.
I’m not ready for this. I don’t even have my speech memorized. Maybe if I turn around and go back inside he won’t notice me.
She closed her eyes and eased backward.
“Dylan!”
Goddamnit!
“State.” She opened her eyes and smiled. “I didn’t even see you standing there. What are you doing here?”
“Shit, you been duckin’ and dodging me all week.” He approached her. “What else was I supposed to do but swoop down on dat ass? I told you we needed to talk.”
“Whatever you have to say is gonna have to wait, ’cause I’m on my way out.” She tried to pass him.
“I get it.” He stopped her. “You’re mad, but what I have to say can’t wait. It’s real important that we talk today,” he stressed.
Dylan could see the urgent need in his eyes. The evil bitch in her wanted to give him her ass to kiss, but the mere thought of him groveling at her feet persuaded her to hear him out.
“You gon’ have to make it quick. I’m already runnin’ late as it is now,” she huffed, glancing down at her Cartier watch.
“Let’s go back inside then and have drinks at Café Eau.”
“All right.” Dylan shot him a look that could kill, but as soon as her back was turned and they began to walk, a wicked grin graced the corners of her lips.
 
 
Billie wasn’t the type of mom who threw parties; she threw events. For weeks, she’d been planning the twins’ birthday soiree. Imagine MTV’s
My Super Sweet 16
but for second graders. The twins were only turning eight, but the world famous DJ Clue would be on the ones and twos, spinnin’ their favorite tracks. There was to be a runway show, a tattoo artist giving fake tattoos, a performance by Miley Cyrus, and every girl in attendance would leave with their very own custom-designed American Girl doll.
For Billie, planning the party served as a much-needed distraction from her dwindling marriage. Nothing she said or did made Cain want her or remember how much he used to love her. It was like he’d forgotten when they bought his and her towels, how they used to do the Kid ’n Play, or how he used to walk and hold her hand. She’d tried calling him on some peaceful shit to see where his head was at, but Cain didn’t have two words for her. He always hit her with “I’ma call you back,” but he never did.
Billie had even gone so far as to cook his favorite meal, meatloaf and mash potatoes, and dress up in sexy lingerie, but Cain was so unfazed that he ate, thanked her for the meal, then left without even looking at her twice. Billie prayed to God that being together for the twins’ birthday as a family would bring them closer. It was the last trick she had up her sleeve. If it didn’t work, she knew her marriage would be over for good.
Once her Audi R8 4.2 was parked, Billie opened the driver’s side door and placed her heel on the pavement. Stepping out, she secured her shades over her eyes, shut the door, and set the alarm. Billie walked briskly toward the entrance of Saks. She was running late. She hoped that Dylan hadn’t been waiting long.
She didn’t even make it to the curb when she was stopped by the hottie bartender that was eye-fuckin’ her at The Pepper Lounge.
“Excuse me.” He touched her arm gently.
“Yes?” She smiled, placing her hair behind her ear.
“You’re Billie Townsend, right?” He swallowed hard.
“The one and only,” she gushed.
“Billie Townsend, you’ve officially been served.” The hottie handed her an envelope.
“What the fuck?” She hastily opened the envelope and pulled out the contents.
“I’m sorry,” he said before walking away abruptly.
Billie’s heart raced a mile a minute. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she unfolded the papers, anticipating her fate. Nervous as hell, Billie focused her attention on every word. It read:
Petition for Dissolution of Marriage.
A flood of tears covered Billie’s eyes like clouds did the sun, causing her vision to blur. In a matter of seconds, her entire world had come crashing down around her, and there was nothing she could do about it. She couldn’t cry her way out of it, buy her way out of it, or lie her way out of it. The one thing she’d dreaded most had finally come to fruition. For months she knew the word divorce was in his mind. She just hoped it would never escape through his lips.
More than ever, Billie needed her friend to be by her side. Wiping her eyes, she pulled herself together, inhaled deeply, and entered the store in search of Dylan’s shoulder to cry on.
 
 
Tranquil jazz music served as Dylan and State’s backdrop as they sat at the bar trying their best to avoid what was on each of their minds. It didn’t help that Billie kept blowing her phone up with text messages that said
911 Bitch
and
Answer the fuckin’ phone. It’s an emergency.
Whatever she wanted could wait. Dylan had to deal with State first. All week she’d been preparing to give him a piece of her mind. There was no way in hell she was going to miss her opportunity. Homegirl was gonna kick his ass and dish out the details later that night over cocktails with Billie and Tee-Tee. She had to make him see that he wouldn’t be able to serve up bowls of bullshit as an early bird special whenever he felt like it, and she would not graciously eat it up every time.
By the gloomy look in his eyes, Dylan could tell it was time for his punishment to come to an end. Once State apologized, she’d hit him with a smack of lips, a roll of the neck, and as an added bonus, a finger wag to the face, all while spittin’ some of the nastiest shit he’d ever heard. State would take her by the hand and sincerely apologize once more, and then they’d head upstairs to her place. He’d lift up her skirt, bend her over the kitchen sink, and fuck her until she begged for more. But before any of that could take place, one of them would have to speak first.
“So, State.” Dylan threw her hair to the side and crossed her legs. “What’s going on? You wanted to talk, so talk.”
“You just gangsta wit’ it. Straight to the point, huh?” he remarked.
“I’m just sayin’, what’s going on?”
“Look, man.” He turned and faced her. “The reason I left like that the other night is because shit between us is just moving way too fast. I mean, I’m kickin’ it wit’ yo’ peoples, and somehow, some way, we ended up boyfriend and girlfriend again—”
“Hold up. What are you tryin’ to say?” Dylan asked, completely caught off guard by his choice of words.
“I don’t know.” He gazed deep off into space. “Maybe we should chill out for a minute.”
“You say what now?” She placed her hand up to her ear and eased closer.
“I think we just need some time apart, see if this is something we really wanna do.”
“What do you mean, ‘see if this is something we wanna do?’ I know what I wanna do! You the confused muthafucka,” she yelled, causing people to stare.
“Chill,” State said seriously. “I know you can’t be happy wit’ the way things are between us.”
“What are you talkin’ about?” She eyed him, confused.
Her phone rang again. It was Billie.
“Hold up. Let me get this real quick.” She excused herself and stepped off to the side. “Wassup?”
“Where the hell are you at? I been standing in here waiting on you for almost forty-five minutes,” Billie spat, aggravated as hell.
“Look, I’ma have to get wit’ you another day. Me and State in the middle of something important right now.”
“Okay.” Billie held up her hand like she was giving the Hippocratic Oath. “Where is Ashton Kutcher, ’cause I swear to God I’m being punked. Either I’m losing my mind, or you’re just as dumb as I thought you were. Which one is it, Dylan? ’Cause I know damn well you not throwin’ me shade for the same wack-ass niggah that left you and yo’ mama stranded in my living room a week ago. Like, are you that fuckin’ desperate?”
“Whateva, Billie.” Dylan tried her best not to react to the ruthless venom Billie was hittin’ her with. “Think what you wanna think. I’ll talk to you later.” She hung up and placed her phone on silent mode. “Now, what were you sayin’?” she asked, returning to her seat.
“On everything, I’m not tryin’ to hurt you, but I feel like you all on my neck, and I need a minute to breathe,” State said.
“On yo’ neck,” Dylan repeated in disbelief.
“Calm down. I ain’t sayin’ it like that.”
“Then what the fuck are you sayin’?” Her nostrils flared.
“Check this out.” He took her by the hand. “I love you, I do, but right now I just think I need some space. Plus, I’m gettin’ ready to be gone for a minute on business in New York,” he lied.
State was really going with Ashton to finish the last leg of her tour.
“What’s a minute?”
“A month, maybe two.”
“I see.” Dylan snatched her hands back, shaking her head.
For the umpteenth time, life was repeating itself; except this time, State was the one letting her go.
“And this is something you really wanna do? ’Cause frankly, this is all coming out of the blue to me.” She fished for answers.
“Yeah, I really think this is gon’ help us in the end.”
“Help you, you mean? ’Cause this for damn sure ain’t helpin’ me. You fuckin’ killin’ me right now with this shit,” Dylan confessed, barely able to breathe.
“And that’s the last thing I wanted to do, but let me just get my head together, be single for a minute. While I’m doing that, you do you and see other people too,” State lied again, still unable to tell her the truth.
“So, that’s what this whole thing is about? You wanna see other people?”
“No,” he groaned. “What I want for us is to be happy. When I get back, we’ll see where we’re both at and go from there.”
At a complete loss for words, Dylan sat silent. State seemed to be running from all of the answers and leaving her with too many questions. It wasn’t fair. He needed to let her know what it really was that he wanted to do. He needed to tell her the truth instead of always leaving her alone to fill in the missing spaces of their relationship.
 
 
With the curtains drawn shut, Billie sat in bed wondering if she begged and if she cried, would it rewind time? The world around her continued to go on as if she hadn’t been shot point blank in the heart. This just couldn’t be her fate: long, drawn-out days pretending to be okay, and sleepless nights alone, wondering why.
For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why Cain would want to be with someone else. All he needed was her. She was his wife and the mother of his kids. When they’d met, she didn’t know his name or that he played ball. None of that mattered. His sly grin and charming ways had her sewed up. Every day she thanked God for him, not knowing that the man she would one day marry would be a crazy fool.
But it was okay. He’d be the one in the end to regret his decision. It was just fucked up that right now she was the one suffering. Cain was out with his new woman doing God knows what, while she lay cooped up with tears the size of raindrops falling from her eyes. It wasn’t fair, nor was it her fault that she slipped up and fell in love with an iceberg. And no, her pity party wouldn’t last forever, but right now she needed time to piece together the reasons why her marriage had fallen apart.

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