Saint And Sinners (113 page)

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Authors: Tiana Laveen

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Saint And Sinners
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“Yeah, but one thing bothers me.”

“What’s that?” Saint crossed his arms and waited. Maybe she wasn’t going to say something
ridiculous after all. The woman was trying to better her quality of life.

“I was thinking, this may be a waste of time though.”

“Why would you think that? You haven’t even begun, give it a try.”

“Why? I’ll tell you why! ‘Cause whales is mammals just like us, and they swim around
all damn day, and they still big as hell! Move outta my way, Saint.” She abruptly
brushed him aside, as if he were to blame for all of her woes. “I’m goin’ in your
kitchen to fix me some pancakes, eggs and some of that turkey bacon Xenia buys before
you drive me to the damn airport. I don’t know why they gave you a damn degree, Saint!”

He smirked, shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“I got a PhD in common sense! It tells me that I will die fat but happy but that’s
something you wouldn’t understand, you green smoothie, kale chip, bean curd eatin’
mothafucka!”

*

“You gotta tip
it, man!” Jagger chuckled as he stood under the large chrome chandelier in the dining
room explaining the correct way to pour a freshly uncorked bottle of Dom Perignon.
Saint’s home glittered with gold and silver tinsel, while Xenia and Traci playfully
bounced around blowing their black and white New Year’s Eve horns. A steady beat of
music played throughout the place, but not too loud—a newborn was on board. Donna
cradled the sleeping wee one while her son played happily against her shoulder with
a paper towel remnant. Oh, how the cardboard roll was so much fun to toy with. Isis
peered lovingly over the woman’s arm, staring down at little Justice. Her eyes glowed
bright as she pointed at the baby and smiled, in love with her little ‘play cousin’
already. Roman and his wife and daughter sat on a nearby loveseat flipping through
a thick, glossy paged photo album Xenia had painstakingly put together one cold evening.
It was scrapbooked to perfection, with all the perfect frills, sparkly stickers and
colorful boarders one could ever wish for.

Dakarai was showing off in front of Angel, flexing his muscle after scooting his bright
red sweater up his arm just so.

“See! I gotta muscle right dere!” His brows bunched as he tried to be as convincing
as possible, almost bursting a vein while he flexed that little over-cooked noodle
with all of his might. His tongue slicked out the side of his mouth, a serious grimace
took over his face, and Angel covered his quaking lips, trying to hide his laughter
at the poor little boy.

“Yeah man… I see it.”

Angel gripped a can of Sprite and seemed to be taking it all in. Saint was convinced
the boy had never witnessed a family like this before. Matter of fact, Angel hadn’t
been in a real family that showed care and love towards one another probably since
the day he was born. The youngster leaned against the wall, took another swallow of
his drink, then made his way up to Hassani who was whispering on the phone.

I wonder who Hassani is talking to?

Saint brought his attention back to Jagger for a moment after taking the survey of
the room. He handed Jagger and Lawrence a glass of champagne. After raising their
goblets in the air, they tipped their heads back, downing the alcohol, taking it to
the head.

“It’ll be midnight in fifteen minutes. We’ll have to do it big!” Saint laughed as
he peered at the time on his entertainment center. “A baby, turn on the T.V., put
it on mute until it’s time.” Normally, Saint would have made his way down to Time
Square since he was back in his home town, but he wanted the children to be a part
of the evening, too, so that simply wouldn’t do.

Can’t have the babies out in the cold…

He was itching for a cigar, but knew he’d get to wrap his lips around one later. There
was a full bodied, Cohiba Siglo VI Cuban cigar sitting on his study desk behind locked
wooden doors. Next to that unwrapped cigar stood a bottle of Ardbeg 17. Yes, it had
his name written all over it. He couldn’t wait to pour the smooth, clear liquor over
a handful of damn ice cubes and taste that ambrosia from the heavens. He placed a
fresh glass of champagne to his lips, tilted his head back and took a small swallow
of his drink. Just then, he picked up his Queen’s aroma as she pirouetted around him,
bumping her hip next to his in seductive ways.

Xenia is tipsy as fuck… I’m going to have to give her this long and stiff stick tonight,
make her ass become fully alert!

He smirked at the notion, knowing he’d bring it to fruition.

“You been drinkin’, baby?” he teased.

She nodded and winked, her short, sparkling black dress gleaming under the lights
and her tiny ‘New Years Eve’ hat bobbing about on her head. She swayed across the
way to turn on the television at his request.

“Alright everyone!” He clapped his hands. “In seven minutes, it’ll be midnight so
make sure you are close to your honey when the clock strikes twelve. Kids, everyone
has their juice box, right?” All of the children nodded except Justice and Angel,
who rolled his eyes, still pissed Saint handing him a thing of Juicy Juice instead
of letting him get a taste of that Dom. “Great. Hassani, I don’t know who you are
talking to, but tell them goodnight.”

Hassani nodded, whispered some more then hung up the phone.

Saint walked over to Roman and sat on the arm of the couch. “So glad you could come.”

“Of course, Saint. Thanks for inviting us. We don’t have any other family here…didn’t
have anything planned.”

“Yeah, my father actually decided to stay in tonight and have a romantic meal with
my stepmother, but other than that, and my friend Raphael who is more like a brother,
I’m pretty much in the same boat. Most of my family is still in Egypt and Korea, so…”
Saint shrugged. “You just do the best you can, you know?”

Roman nodded in agreement while Saint got back to his feet.

“Can I get you anything, Dove?” He smiled at Roman’s wife, and their adorable daughter.
“What about you too, sweetie?”

The little eight-year-old girl blushed, showing her snaggle teeth while she pumped
her legs in white stockings and black patent leather shoes. “I have my grape juice,
thank you.”

“Saint, this champagne Xenia gave me is fine. I still have half a glass.” Dove held
up her glass as if to give a toast and grinned.

“Cool, cool. Okay, when that clock strikes twelve, Roman, I want to hear you make
some noise.” They both laughed at that, then Saint made his way over to other guests
in the crowd.

Hassani meandered over to the table like some vulture, picking and prodding the cheese
and fruit trays until they had little to nothing left. He clutched a tiny red napkin
holding a double stuffed green olive on a toothpick, and made his rounds, eating up
everything in sight. Before he could get past his father, Saint clutched his shoulder
and reared him back.

“Who were you on the phone with?”

“Can’t a guy get any privacy?!”

Saint didn’t know whether to go off or burst out laughing. He looked the boy up and
down. “Now, I could tell you what your grandfather used to tell me. He’d say, ‘When
you start paying some bills around here, that’s when your personal life will be off
limits.’ As for you, it doesn’t matter the reason, the answer is, ‘Not right now.’
So, who is was she?” He grinned, a sparkle in his eye. “You sure move fast. You were
all in love with the little peanut-butter-colored girl with the freckles back in L.A.
Heartbroken when we had to move, now here you are, onto other conquests.”

“Well.” Hassani shrugged. “Life goes on.”

At that, Saint truly did do a tummy roll. “What’s her name?”

Hassani smiled, blushed and turned away then popped the olive in his mouth. He went
to town chewing on it, giving it what for, as if he hadn’t eaten a damn thing all
night. “Melanie…”

“Melanie, huh? Does she go to your school?”

“Mmmm hmmm. She’s in art with me.” Hassani couldn’t smack his own grin off his face
if he’d tried.

“How old is she?”

“Is this an interview, Dad?” The boy twisted his lips to the side and tightened his
hold on his juice box.

Saint threw up his hands in shock. “What? You don’t want to tell me about her?”

“It’s not that, it’s just that if I tell you, then you’ll keep askin’ me about her
later and if we break up, and I feel bad about it, then you’ll try to give me a pep
talk and den when I try to go ’nd get wit’ someone else, you’ll tell me again that
I moved on fast. I just don’t want you to think I’m a player is all, even though I
crush a lot.”

Saint could not believe his ears. He shot Angel a vexed look but the little slithering
snake had his back to him, and was now sliming his way towards Xenia.

It’s him. He’s the one that’s been teaching Hassani all this bullshit.

The boy looked over his shoulder, his eyes hooded. He then winked and grinned, causing
his dimples to once again appear, making him look like the angelic demon that he was.

“Angel is a bad influence on you. You never used to talk like this.”

“See?!” Hassani pouted. “He said you’d be like this. What if the shoe was on the other
foot?”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Saint bent towards the table and plucked a wimpy pickle spear
from a silver tray.

“What if you were in my shoes? Wouldn’t you be afraid to tell you?’

“What if I was in your shoes? The shoes
I
paid two hundred dollars for?!” He pointed to his chest while the pickle spear hung
half way out of his mouth. He then spit the damn thing out into a napkin and tossed
it aside. “I’d be a lucky son of a gun, that is what I’d be goddamn it but better
yet, what if
my
shoe was in that boy’s ass, huh?! That’s the damn question you need to be asking!
Talking about you ain’t a playa you just crush a lot! Yo’ damn nuts aint even dropped!
You aren’t crushin’ shit but that food in your mouth and another thing—”

“Saint!” Xenia marched towards him and pointed at the clock on the television. She
grabbed the remote control and took the thing off mute.

“Here it comes!” Saint yelled out, prompting everyone over the age of eight to begin
the countdown. “Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Haaaaappppy
Neeewww Year!” everyone screamed. Saint grabbed Xenia around the waist and fastened
her to his body so tightly, there was barely room for even the two of them. Looking
down into her dark, soulful eyes that glimmered just so under the light, his fingertips
couldn’t help but roam the upper portion of her ass, hiking her dress up just a bit
as he massaged her soft flesh.

“Happy New Year, baby! I love the shit outta you!” He pressed his lips to hers, making
her moan a bit, whimper, go limp as he pushed his tongue inside of her mouth. Suddenly
aware of his surroundings, he forced himself to cut it short. When he did so, he realized
all the other couples were kissing too, minus the children who looked at the crowd
of adults in sheer disgust.

“Oh my God! Get uh room!” Hassani barked as he turned back towards the television,
his arms crossed in anger. This caused an uproar of laughter and soon, small talk
ensued. Baby Justice awoke from all the commotion and Isis remained sound asleep on
a neighboring couch, a light snore coming out her pouty, pink lips.

Saint excused himself and made his way to the foyer to take a gander out the large
bay window. Yeah, the bay window that Xenia coveted. The one she wanted so badly and
fell in love with at first sight. Closed windows were interesting things. They let
you see glimpses of the world, but blocked everything from entering. Saint placed
his hand along the cool glass after partially opening the curtains. Manhattan that
evening seemed much like a snow globe. It still struck him as a bit surreal that he
was back home, back to where it all started, back to his roots, where he belonged.
People moved about, some in dressy clothing, some in regular threads, but everyone
had a story to tell, a reason for the season.

He dropped his head and said a silent prayer, thanking his Creator for giving him
the life he had, the Queen in his world, his beautiful seeds and his family that gave
abundant love, three hundred and sixty five days of the year. Then, like the softest
of snowflakes, the back of his neck was inundated with soft kisses, and warm arms
wrapped around his hips.

He clinched Xenia’s hands with his own as she gently gravitated to his front and laid
her head on his torso. In that moment, as he continued to look out the window, he
realized that yes, windows are truly miraculous creations. You can see out of them,
and when the world appears static and certain through the guise of glass, you question
reality’s layout.
Is this how the world truly looks?
In a world of confusion, everyone needs that one person that is encouraging, and
equally realistic. A Goddess, a true Queen, will always keep you grounded in reality,
and most of all, like the windows of the world, what you reflect into their hearts
will be reflected back into yours, ten times over…

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