12
Robin
I climbed out of my car and looked over at the dingy beige building and cringed. The last place I wanted to be was the county jail, especially after working until the wee hours of the morning. Not that I'm complaining. I'd made a killing. A local rapper rocked the mic, then I met some baller from Newport News at a Holiday Inn on Iron Bridge and rode his ass to sleep. The only reason I had gotten out of bed was because I didn't wanna miss visiting hours.
My nephew was fucking up my routine. I figured the fastest way to get Kyle out of my house was to hire Deena a damn good lawyer and get her ass out on bail.
I walked into the building and over to the desk, signed my name on the visitors list, and waited for what felt like forever before I was escorted to a room in back. When I finally reached the door, I paused and took a deep breath before I stepped inside and walked toward the first plastic chair. A woman was sitting on the other side of the glass in a brown jumpsuit and it took me a few minutes to realize that was my sister. Damn. I hadn't seen her in years, and time had not been nice to her. Her face was so thin her cheeks looked almost sunken in and her hair was a short, hot mess.
I don't know how long I stood there staring blankly at her before I lowered onto the chair. As soon as I picked up the phone, she sighed heavily into the receiver. “Thanks for coming to see me.”
I rolled my eyes. “It wasn't like I had much of a choice.”
Deena seemed surprised by my response. After all these years, I couldn't figure out why she would expect any less from me. “How's Kyle?”
If I was her, my son would be the least of my worries. “He's cool. Trey said he'll bring him this weekend to see you.”
Deena looked disappointed. “I was hoping you would have brought him with you.”
“No, I wanted to come by myself.” Did she think all of a sudden we were going to become one big happy fucking family? She just didn't get it. I hated her ass.
“Robbie, I didn't do it,” she blurted out like it mattered.
“I don't care if you did it or not,” I snarled and leaned as far away from the glass as I could get.
She looked around in shock before she whispered, “I'm serious. I was messing with this dude and he was into some shit. I know ... I shouldna been fucking with him, but I'd lost my job and he paid the rent and kept food on the table.” She tried explaining to me but I just glared through the glass at her. “Robbie, I love my son. I would have done anything for him.”
“You need to save the explanation for the jury.” If she thought I was going to sympathize with her ass, she was wrong.
“Robbie ... you know I wouldn't have anything to do with the shit they're talkin' about. Please, ask around.
Someone
has to know what really happened.”
Uh-uh. There was no way she was pulling me back into that life. I left that shit behind when I stop fucking with Halo. “I don't know nothing about that. All I know is that you need a lawyer and I'm going to get you one.”
Deena stared at me with tears streaming down her cheeks. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
I felt a tug at my heart, and there was no way I was allowing myself to feel sorry for her. “Don't get the shit twisted. I'm not doin' it for you. I'm doin' it for Kyle. I couldn't care less if your ass rots in here, but he wants his mother at home with him.” I squeezed the phone, shaking with anger.
She leaned back in the chair and grew quiet. I guess she knew it was best to leave well enough alone. It was bad enough I had to get my ass up outta bed and come down to this dirty place with bitches dragging their kids down to see their baby daddies in jail.
“I really want us to talk,” Deena said, jilting me out of my thought.
“Talk about what? Because there's no us. You left me in that house and never once came back.” I became one big attitude.
“That's not true!” she whined. “Robbie, I tried to get someone to listen to me, but no one would. I went to social services. I even reported the abuse to the police, and they said they checked into it but when they came out to Ms. Ernestine's house, you told them no one was abusing you.”
I raised an eyebrow in confusion. She'd done that?
I remembered the day the police came to the house, asking questions. The second Ms. Ernestine saw them pull into the driveway, she threatened if I said anything, she would kill me, and I believed her and lied when the police questioned me. Had Deena really sent the police? I shook my head. I wasn't sure if it was because I was confused or because I didn't want to believe her.
“I even spoke to our caseworker and tried to find out what I needed to do to be your legal guardian and she kept blowing me off. At first she told me I needed an apartment and a job, but when I did all that she still wouldn't put us together. By then I had heard you ran away and had been placed in a different foster home. I tried to reach out to you but I didn't know where you were and the caseworker refused to tell me. Hell, I even went and saw Ms. Ernestine and asked her.”
“You went and saw her?” I waited for an answer.
She lowered her head, avoiding eye contact, and nodded. “I was messing with this big dude at the time, so I took him with me. Ms. Ernestine was so scared when she realized he was packing a pistol she told me where you were staying. I went to the address and she told me you had moved out.”
She was talking about Ms. Melba. I stayed at her house for almost a year, sharing a room with three other girls before I finally got the hell out and moved to this tiny-ass furnished room I had rented. To me it was heaven because it had gotten me emancipated from the foster care system. I was working at Kmart, making just enough to keep a roof over my head and food in my stomach. It was about then that I met this stripper who used to come into the store all the time. I saw she always had on the hottest clothes and her hair stayed laid. When she told me she worked at Sapphires and I should come and audition, I took her advice and auditioned, and the rest was history. I'd been dancing ever since. It took me two years before I made the money I needed to get the hell out of Petersburg and I've been gone ever since. Around that time, Scandalous had opened up and became my new home. I'd come a long way all on my own.
I looked at my sister and could see the remorse in her eyes, but it didn't matterâat least I wanted to believe it didn't matter. I'd gotten far without her, so what the hell did I need with her now?
“Look, I didn't come here to travel down memory lane. I just wanted to let you know I was hiring you a lawyer.”
“Thanks Robbie. I'll pay you back.” She gave me a pitiful smile.
“Of course you will,” I spat sarcastically, then rose from the chair and walked out without saying another word.
13
Monica
“Can I get you anything else?”
I jerked on my seat and was staring directly at my waitress when I realized I must have dozed off. “Uh, yeah, sorry. Another caramel macchiato would be great.”
“Coming right up, sweetie. Can I suggest an extra shot of espresso? Looks like you could use it.”
I chuckled. “Yes, that sounds great.”
I was so tired that if I didn't have a big test on Monday I could have spent the entire morning in bed.
Since I was the new girl at Scandalous, that asshole of a club manager had a rule that I had to dance Tuesday night as well as the weekend. So much for thinking I had a flexible schedule. The last week was a bitch. Although after I got past that nerve-wracking first night dancing on center stage with thousands of people watching, by week two, I was fine.
“Here ya go.”
I looked up at the waitress and thanked her as she sat the piping hot mug in front of me. “You might as well keep them coming.”
Last night, I worked until two, then had to crawl my ass out of bed, get the girls to school, and make it to class at nine. Luckily we were seeing a film and I was able to sleep through most of it.
I pulled my anatomy textbook closer and reached for my highlighter. The test on Monday was major, and flunking after making it this far was not an option for me.
I had read the first couple of pages and was feeling pretty good about how things were going so far when I looked across the coffee shop and noticed someone was staring at me. “Damn, it's him again,” I mumbled under my breath, then went back to studying, only it was hard to do considering I was being watched.
I'm not going to try to lie, dude wasn't fine, he was
fine
in an Idris Elba kind of way. He had to be about six-three, dark skin with a medium build. He had curly hair and in the very front was a patch of gray waves that added character to his look. But what impressed me the most was the suit he was rocking. You could tell from across the room it was expensive. I'd been seeing him coming into the coffee shop for over a month, and twice he'd even had the balls to come over and ask me out to lunch, although both times I declined. For one, I don't know him from the man in the moon, and who just walks up to a woman they don't even know and asks her out to lunch? I mean yeah, he's fine, but so were a couple of those serial killers. I peeked over in his direction again and caught him blatantly eyeing me from head to toe. I tried not to quiver, but it was hard to do. Like I said, he was sexy.
My cell phone chirped, thank goodness, because I needed a distraction. I glanced down at the screen and noticed a text message from Reyna.
Â
How much we make last night?
Â
Â
I laughed. We? I don't remember seeing her shaking her ass on that grimy stage last night.
“Excuse me.”
The first thing I noticed was his cologne. I knew it was him because it was what he wore every time I'd run into him. Sure enough, I looked up and Mr. Sexy was standing over me.
“You mind if I sit down?”
“If I tell you no, will you go away?” I said and struggled to keep a straight face.
His dimples deepened. “Yes, but we'll go through this same thing all over again next week.”
He was persistent. I'll give him that. I nodded and he lowered into the chair across from me, then leaned back confidently.
“What are you reading?” he asked curiously.
I closed my book and pushed it out of his way so he would have room. “I'm studying for a big test that you won't let me study for.” I rolled my eyes and reached for my coffee.
“Sorry, but I see you here every Wednesday, and every Wednesday I can't resist coming over and speaking to you.”
“Why is that?”
He leaned across the table and looked at me in a way a man hadn't in a long time. “I think you're sexy, for starters.”
I heard them same lines every night I worked at the club. Dudes talking about can they drink my bath water or wanting to suck my toes, yet when he said it I almost believed he was being sincere.
“I'm starting to think you're stalking me.”
He gave a hearty chuckle. “No just trying to get to know you. I'mâ”
I cut him off. “Haven't you figured out by now I'm not interested in anything but these books?”
“Everybody has to take a break. Even me.”
Okay. Shoot me. I was curious. “What are you taking a break from?”
“I'm an attorney. I usually have court on Wednesday afternoons, so I like to drop in here first, have a couple of cups of coffee and clear my head before I step into the courtroom.”
I didn't at all take him for a lawyer, but as persistent as he was, he was probably damn good at it.
“How about starting with your name? Hello, I'm Tremayne Collins.”
Mmm, a name as sexy as the man. “I'm ... uh ... Monica Houston.” That fine man had me so shook that I almost forgot my name.
“Pleasure meeting you, Monica.”
It just didn't make any sense for a man to look that good. Since the divorce I hadn't thought twice about getting involved with another man, but there was something about this dude that made my stomach feel all tied up in knots. And I wasn't sure if I like having that feeling at all.
“So what can I do for you, Mr. Collins?” I asked, giving him an awkward smile.
“I already told you. Have lunch with me.”
I couldn't resist his smile, which was just as attractive as his dark chestnut eyes. “Okay, get the waitress and I'll order something.”
He laughed, and I loved the deep robust sound. “I mean an actual lunch at a restaurant, not a coffee shop.”
“I really don't have time for dating. My schedule is busy enough as it is.” No point in beating around the bush. I barely had time to spend with the girls, so how in the world did he expect me to find time to share with a man?
“Then I'll just settle for coffee,” he said like he was happy just to be sitting at the same table with me. “So tell me ... what do you do when you're not studying? Do you work?”
“Uh ... yeah, I do,” I stuttered and suddenly realized I should have said no because now I had to tell him what I did to earn a living, and I sure in the hell wasn't going to tell him I was a stripper. “I work at reception in the emergency room.” I couldn't believe how easily that lie flew from my tongue.
“That's wonderful. Which one?”
Oh goodness. The Lord is sure to strike me down for lying. “John Randolph Medical Center.”
“My cousin Lena works there. You know her? She manages the cafeteria.”
I quickly shook my head and dropped my head back to the book. Things were starting off on the wrong foot, and that was definitely not a good sign.
“So tell me something else about yourself.” Goodness, he was just sitting there staring at me. It should have made me feel uneasy; instead the attention had me crossing my legs tightly, trying to calm that ache between my thighs.
“Why?”
I could have sworn there was a twinkle in his eyes when he said, “Because I want to learn everything there is to know about you.”
“I am a divorced mother of two.” There, I said it. Nothing runs a man away faster than the thought of dating a woman with two kids. Unfortunately, for some reason he looked intrigued.
“Really? Boys ... girls?” His question seemed sincere.
“Two girls.”
“Man, you have your hands full!” He chuckled. “My mother raised me and three sisters, and as soon as they hit puberty she was about to pull her hair out. Good thing I was the oldest, because as soon as the boys came sniffing around, I kicked them off our front porch.”
I laughed just thinking about it. “Mmm-hmm, my ex-husband said the same thing. Luckily he's around, so as soon as I have problems I can call him to deal with it.”
“That's good to hear. I have a lot of respect for men who take care of their responsibilities. Nothing worse than a deadbeat dad.”
A couple of weeks ago I would have been saying the same thing about Anthony, but he'd been doing everything he could to spend time with those girls and I had a newfound respect for him. The girls seemed happier too, and that was what was important. It actually made me feel less guilty about having to leave them every weekend to work at the club knowing they were with Anthony.
“Do you have any children?”
“No, I haven't met the right woman yet.” He winked at me.
“That's strange, because most men your age already have one or two different baby mamas.”
“Not me. I'm waiting until I get married first. In the meantime, I have plenty of nieces and nephews to keep me wearing condoms for a long time.”
I laughed, and as we sat there chatting and sipping coffee, I found him so easy to talk to it was scary. “You know what? Lunch doesn't sound like a bad idea.”
The comment caused him to give me a coochie-clenching grin. I told you, I'm a sucker for dimples. Suddenly, I was definitely looking forward to seeing him again.