My Little Secret (3 page)

 

Wait until you're truly by yourself in a dark-ass condo mad as hell because the one person who is supposed to love you unconditionally already belongs to someone else. And I swear I tried so many times to just walk away from it all, but the more I think about it, the more I wonder if I should. I mean, I'm the one who holds her and makes her feel wanted while her husband practically lives at the office. She didn't know satisfaction until she met me, and now I get the short end of the stick? I must be a damn fool or whipped, or both, but I'm not taking this lying down.

Little does the good Dr. Hunter know, I've just declared war. There's no real competition, because I've got dude by a long shot, and I don't even have a real dick. If I play my cards right, Midori will belong to me and no one else. After all, my dick is bigger anyway. For right now, I'm going to chill in this tub and wait for her to call, because I know she will.

So, her birthday is in a week, huh? That lying bitch. I should've whipped her ass on the spot just because, but I'll keep my cool. I'll just take it out on her ass when she gets here. I'm still trying to figure out why she felt like she had to lie, as if deceiving her husband wasn't enough. Here I am being straight-up about everything, and I couldn't even get a real birthdate out of the bitch. Just when you think you know someone, you realize you don't know them at all.

It has already been three days since the entire incident at her house, but I'm sure she's playing hard to get. For a second, it really looked like they were happy together. Maybe I'm kidding myself by thinking she and I have something. Who's to say that I am anything more than a smash? At the same time, she's told me that she loved me on so many occasions. Or does she really just love the dick-down that I've been giving her? If that's the case, it'd truly be fucked-up, and she will pay.

I'm not a toy to be played with, and then when you're done, you put me back on the shelf. She can't honestly tell me that she felt nothing after all this time. All the tears I've wiped away and all of the orgasms had to count for something, right? Then again, she lied about something as petty as her birthday, so how can I tell?

I saw how her husband was looking at me, too. I thought for a second I saw his tongue fall out of his mouth. Just like a damn dog. Maybe he could be of use. If I can get him too—man, what am I doing? I just need to get shit right with Midori, but the idea of stringing them both along does sound appealing.

I've been staring at his business card for a while now. Since he was so gracious to invite me to her birthday party, I will certainly be there, and I'll be the flyest thing walking. I have this hot little black dress that will have the heads of both men and women turning.

Okay, so it's ten o'clock now. I know I need to stop by my publicist's house before I go to that book signing tomorrow. I guess it would be wise to get my clothes together now, but what do I wear? I'm really ready to go to Midori's house and act a fool, but I'll stay cool. Shit will be hitting the fan sooner than anticipated, and she'll have no choice but to decide.

It's funny because when I met her two years ago at the signing I had at the Borders bookstore in the Gallery she said she enjoyed my book, but couldn't see herself going out like the wife did in my fictional tale. I remember it like it was yesterday.

 

“Jaydah, it is so nice to meet you. I have to tell you that I really enjoyed your book.”

“That's always good to hear. Do you want me to sign your copy?” By this time I was just checking her out, and she was definitely on point. People ask me all the time if my book is based on a true story, and I'm not lying by telling them no, but in her case I'd make an exception.

“Sure, and make sure to include your number. I've been looking for someone to tell my story for the longest, and I think you would do a perfect job.”

“How you figure?” I asked, now intrigued by what she had to say. Most people are against the whole girl-on-girl thing, but this one seemed to appreciate it.

“Okay, for starters, the wife had no business allowing her husband to invite some chick into their relationship. That was just dumb on her part. Secondly, if you are going to creep out on your husband with a woman, at least have the decency to come home with your panties on.”

I laughed a little and continued to autograph her book. I wondered briefly if she was married, but then decided it didn't matter. She was on point, and I'd be making it a point to get in them panties soon.

“So, what exactly did you find odd about it? That happens every day in someone's life,” I replied as a stall tactic to keep her at my table. Her eyes held me captive, and my thong was getting soaked by the second.

“It wouldn't have gone down in my household like that. My husband better not even fix his mind to bring some chick home.”

“But would you?” I asked her, a dare behind the statement. I would know exactly what was up with her by the way she answered my question.

“Not sure that I would. If I were to step out with a woman, I wouldn't bring her home. I'd take her some place where we could do our thing and my husband wouldn't find out.”

“So, you would do it?” I asked again, just to make sure I heard her right. Let me find out this chick was an undercover closet lesbo. People be thinking that these books are fiction, but most of the stories out here are true to the game.

“Ummm . . . when does the sequel to this come out? I need to find out what happens with that married couple. The way she caught her husband was truly compromising.”

“It will be out sometime during the fall of next year, but I can help you with your book before that. Here is my card. Make sure you use it.”

“I will . . . definitely,” she said, looking at the card then tucking it in her purse.

At that point I was ready to leave the signing and scoop her up, but I was cool. She would call soon, and it wouldn't be about a damn book.

 

Wow, that was two years ago, and it all came to this. Where is the respect? She acts like we've never been through anything. She was there for my book release party and everything, and all this time she's been lying to me. I'm not sure I can let that shit go, and I have to get her back. I will tear that ass up one last time, though.

I wonder if her husband knows that the tattoo she has on her shoulder is really my name written in Chinese. Does he know that I put passion marks on the inside of her thighs so he won't see them, and that the reason why they couldn't have sex for their ninth anniversary wasn't because her period was on? I fucked her so long and hard, she was sore, and it hurt just for her to open her legs up.

The more I think about, it the madder I'm getting, and right now I don't need that kind of stress. I have a radio interview first thing Friday morning that I'm nervous as hell about, and I start my next book tour in a matter of weeks.

On my last tour I was stroking her ass in every state, and now I'm feeling that it won't be going down like that this time. Then I have a deadline to meet with my next book that my publisher done called me about at least six times in the last week. I swear I don't need this kind of stress right now. All I want to do is lie in Midori's arms and feel that everything is okay in the world. It's hard being Jaydah B., and she of all people should know that.

 

“I wanna make it up to you,” I say softly into the phone. I'm in my office taking a brief break between patients. It has been a tiring day, and I'm really not in the mood for any drama. I wanted to at least see how Jaydah was acting so I would know if it was a good idea to go over there after work or not.

It's been about four days since she popped up at my house, and truth be told, I am still a little upset about that shit. I have never taken her anywhere within a ten-mile radius of my home, so that meant she was getting information on me from other sources. To say I'm not cool with that is putting it mildly. At the risk of making myself look suspect in front of my husband, I was ready to knock the shit out of her, but I refrained. Lucky her.

“Make it up, Midori?—If that's your real name,” Jaydah says, spitting venom into the phone like she hates my very existing. “You lied about something as petty as the day you were born. I can't trust a word that comes out of your mouth now.”

“I know I fucked up, okay. I know, but you at least owe it to me to explain myself.”

“I don't owe you shit, but we'll see how it goes down on your birthday.”

“So, you're actually going to come to the party?” I ask in a desperate voice.

“You better believe it. And not the fake-ass birthday you told me about that was supposed to be in May. Look, I got a book that I need to work on. I'll see you there.”

She hangs up before I can say anything else, and I guess I deserve it. Coming to the party is one of the things I want to talk to her about. I don't need her in the same room as my husband. I've told her too many secrets, and we've shared too much for her to be in his presence. I don't need shit to slip out. My livelihood could be at stake here.

I start to call her back, but I know it would be useless. When Jaydah gets into a zone, all I can do is wait until she calms down. If I didn't have an office to run, I would leave at this very moment and go over to talk to her.

I hate that I am stressing her out because I know how she gets when she's trying to write, and she doesn't need me feeding her any bullshit. Our arguing was the entire reason behind her missing her deadline twice to turn in the last book, and I don't want to be the cause of her messing up this time around.

Valentine's Day was so important to Jaydah, and I was actually excited about spending it with her. The year before she gave me an engagement ring, but I wore it on the other hand because the rings my husband gave me occupied the finger on my left. I was honestly surprised that my husband stuck around for the holiday, but I will say I ended up pleasantly surprised.

I have seven days before my party to talk her into staying home. Fuck it—I'll be going straight there when I leave here. By then I'll know what I need to say to her to get things back on track. Maybe I'll buy her something from Victoria's Secret. She loves lingerie.

Scooping up charts from my desk for the patients I had for the rest of the afternoon, I take one last sip of my now cold coffee, determined to get through these last few appointments before I head out.

Before I can leave the office the phone rings. I start to not answer it because nine times out of ten it was probably a parent wanting to talk about their child, but then again it could be Jaydah calling back, and I need to talk to her. On the third ring I scoop up the receiver, pressing it to my ear and hoping the caller hasn't already hung up the phone.

“Woodland Pediatrics. Midori Hunter speaking, how may I help you?” I ask, hoping it was Jaydah telling me I could stop by.

“Hey, sexy,” my husband speaks into the phone, turning my stomach instantly.

In all of the years we've been married, I can count on one hand, not including my thumb, how many times he's called me at work. I just assumed he was too busy fucking the medical assistants who worked at his office to worry about calling me. I saw how some of them used to look at me when I came in there, but I didn't care. He didn't give a damn about any of them, since we're being real about some shit. All they were was a quick fuck on one of the exam tables after hours. I, on the other hand, wear his ring and live in his house. I will never be replaced, no matter how much they want me to be gone.

“Hey, Ray. What did I do to deserve this call?” I ask, faking like I was happy to hear from him. I hope he isn't calling to talk about that little slip-up the other night. We are not ready for kids, and I am hoping he was just talking in the heat of the moment.

“Since when did I need a reason to call my wife?” he asks somewhat seriously, but I can tell he is trying to make light of the situation. “I was calling to see what time you were leaving the office. A few of my colleagues and I are meeting over at Bone Fish for drinks and dinner, and I wanted you to join us.”

“Today?” I ask, stalling him for a few seconds. I'm tied because Ray is making an effort to get our life back on track, but thoughts of Jaydah keep tugging at the back of my mind. Although the relationship I maintain with my husband is more important, I need Jaydah for different reasons, and I'm not ready to let her go just yet.

“Umm, yeah, that would be today. Why? Are you stuck at the office?”

“No, I'm not stuck. There was just something else I needed to do before I went home. Can we do this maybe next week?”

“Babe, all of the guys are bringing their wives, and I don't want to be the only one there without mine. Can you please do me this favor just this once? I'll make it up to you later.”

I have to look at the phone for a second to make sure I heard him correctly. I start to tell him to take one of those desperate floozies from his office, since they want to be me so bad anyway.

How many nights have I asked him to join me with colleagues and he told me he couldn't make it? Did I snap out when I found out that he took the little secretary bitch to Chicago for the Society of Hospital Medicine Convention? She might have been taking notes, but they surely weren't about the miracles of modern medicine. I made sure she found out what the inside of the unemployment office looked like shortly after that.

I want to go there, but he has been trying lately to act right, so I guess I could do this for him just once. Besides, Jaydah is still in war mode, so it'd probably be better to deal with her in a few days. As long as we converse before the party, I'll be cool.

“Ray, what time are you talking? I still have five more patients here,” I say, trying not to sound annoyed.

“Is eight good? That'll give us all time to meet up at the restaurant without having to rush.”

“Eight is fine. I'll meet you there,” I say, ready to end the call.

I swear I don't feel like being around the stuck-up wives of his friends. Hell, they act like they are the only ones who have a doctor on their arm. Shit, I have one up, because mine holds the title of Chief of Gynecology.

“Actually, if you don't mind, I'll come get you, so we can ride in the same car. Go home and put on something sexy, and I'll meet you there. That way we don't have to pay valet to park two cars.”

“Okay, Ray. Anything else?”

“No, baby, that's it. I love you,” he says into the phone, sounding satisfied.

I feel the total opposite and am annoyed by the entire situation. He rarely ever says the word
love
to me, and I don't know what kind of shit he's on now, but I'm not feeling it.

“See you at home,” I respond, not even bothering to tell him I loved him back.

Shit, we're moving too damn fast. You don't go from years of barely speaking to being all in love and shit all of a sudden. Now don't get me wrong, because I do love my husband, but let's keep it real. We haven't been this close, and he hasn't been this attentive in never. You've got to break me in slowly. I stay guarded, because who knows when he will be back to the same old Ray Hunter again?

I take my time with the rest of my patients, purposely trying to run late so I won't have to go, but to my dismay I am done and out the door by six-thirty. On the drive home I think briefly about what I should put on, but I can't get Jaydah off my mind. When I get home my husband's 2007 Phantom Drophead Coupe 100EX is parked in front of the door in our circular driveway. I drive my car past his and park farther to the side, so I can drive right out in the morning.

When I walk in the house, I can hear my husband singing off-key to “Sexual Healing” by Marvin Gaye in the kitchen. I stick my head in to let him know I'm home, then I run upstairs to change. In the middle of stripping, I see my husband walk up and stand in the bedroom door. He doesn't say anything; he just watches me while I pull an outfit together and get dressed again. I can tell he wants to get into something, but it's already seven-fifteen by then and we had to be at the restaurant at eight.

When I'm done getting dressed and putting on a little makeup, he reaches out for my hand, and we leave the house. When we get out to the car, he pushes me up against it and kisses me, slipping his hand under my skirt and using his fingers to pull my thong to the side and finger my clit before he opens the door for me to get in.

I have to blink my eyes and shake my head to get it together because this is definitely a new man I am dealing with. He has a sly smile on his face when he gets into the car, and he says nothing as he flashes the key card across the sensor and races out of the driveway.

Within a half hour we are at the restaurant waiting for the valet to park his car.

Once valet arrives, Ray comes around to my side of the car, extending his hand to help me out. My pussy feels slippery, and I can feel my clit pressed against the soft fabric of my thong, causing my legs to buckle a little after I get out. He softly kisses me again before we get into the restaurant, and we're immediately seated. His colleagues are already there, enjoying glasses of champagne.

I smile and speak to everyone at the table, keeping up the appearance of being a happy couple. All of the men speak back, their eyes freely roaming my body, hoping to see an erect nipple or something like that. Their wives, however, give me snooty hellos and turned their noses up at me. I could care less. They're just mad because I have a banging body, and it wasn't due to multiple plastic surgeries.

My husband takes his seat next to me, and we all converse between ordering appetizers and en-tr ées. I hear someone ask my husband when he will have a little Ray or Midori running around, and I don't quite hear his answer because at that very moment Jaydah walks into the restaurant with a drop-dead gorgeous woman on her arm.

I struggle to keep a straight face as we make eye contact before she is seated at a table not too far from the one we occupy. I'm pissed! How could she be with someone else that soon? We didn't even get a chance to talk.

I half pay attention to the conversation at the table, occasionally nodding and throwing in a laugh or giggle. Jaydah is sitting facing me, looking me dead in my eyes. I want to go over there so bad, but I can't. I hope Ray doesn't notice her sitting there, but my luck runs out as quickly as that thought pops into my head.

“Honey, scoot back a little. I want to go use the restroom before our food is served.”

I move my chair over to give him room, and just my luck, he heads right in Jaydah's direction. When he gets closer to the table, he almost makes it past without noticing her, but she reaches out and grabs his arm, stopping him in mid-stride. I can see them talking, and she introduces him to the woman she's with. My prayers then turn into him not bringing her over, but God be doing something else, because He is not hearing me this evening.

I see her get up, and the next thing you know, he is bringing her over to our table, introducing her to everyone seated. I'm cool with that, as long as we keep it brief, but when he offers for them to come join us, I almost lose it.

The men at the table agree, but the women have the same look on their face as I do. The waiter doesn't waste any time setting up their chairs right next to me and my husband, and I feel sick instantly when Jaydah sits down right next to me.

“Hi, nice to see you again. I didn't quite catch your name the last time we met. What was it again?”

“Midori,” I say through clenched teeth, wanting to punch her in her damn neck. I can't believe she's acting like this.

“Midori . . . my favorite drink. I'm Jaydah, nice to meet you again. This is my date, Nevaeh. She models for Ford Models.”

I look at my husband to see if he had caught the slip-up, because when he and Jaydah initially met she told him her name was Sarah. But he acts like it didn't faze him in the least.

The men are like panting dogs waiting to jump on a damn bone. A closer look at Nevaeh makes me remember seeing her face on the cover of
King
magazine back in December.

I can't believe the turn this evening has taken. And to think I was concerned about her being in the house all alone. I guess my husband didn't have to go to the bathroom after all, because he sits back down.

I try to enjoy my meal, but I am screaming on the inside. All the fake smiling and forced conversation is giving me a damn headache. I want this night to end as soon as possible, and hopefully I'll make it through without snapping the hell out.