Second Time Around (2 page)

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Authors: Darrin Lowery

BOOK: Second Time Around
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Chapter Two
Korie Ann Dillon woke up at six in the morning to a thunderous knocking at her door. That was the knocking that she heard in her dream. She was happy to be awakened from her nightmare, but the dream was so vivid and so intense she didn't feel well-rested at all. Initially, she buried her head deeper into the pillows. When the knocking began again, she knew someone was at her front door and, whoever it was, wasn't leaving. She let out a few grunts and moans to express her displeasure.
Damn, it feels like I just went to sleep. And what was up with that dream?
Damn, that was weird. It can't be morning already, she thought.
She halfway opened her eyes and reached out for her cell phone, which was now buzzing. Now Korie was frowning. It was obvious that she wasn't going to get back to sleep, not that she even wanted to after the dream she just had. She did want to rest, however. She needed to rest.
She picked up her phone with one hand and moved the hair out of her face with the other. She looked at the small screen on her phone.
She struggled to focus on the picture and text on the phone, which said Jayna. She let out a groan and stretched a bit before picking the phone up just before it went to voice mail.
“Heifer, that better not be you at my door,” she said in a groggy voice while stretching across her bed like a newly awakened cat.
Jayna laughed. “Yeah, it's me. Korie, get up, it's time for our run.”
“We don't run for another hour or so. Why are you here so early?”
“Daylight savings time, princess; you must have forgotten.”
Korie looked at her clock and then at the Post-it she wrote to herself that was sticking to the front of her TV screen in her bedroom. The note said daylight savings time, change the time. Korie shook her head as she realized her mistake.
“Aw shoot, I did forget. Come back in an hour,” she said jokingly.
“Girl, get up,” Jayna said playfully.
Korie got up out of bed like a restless child. She put on her robe and partially closed it. She walked as if she was slightly intoxicated. She reached again for her robe, and retied it as she headed to the door.
Her heavy footfalls sounded off the hardwood floor of her apartment. They were footfalls that reminded her of the dream that she had. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and closed the phone before opening the door. On the other side was her best friend, Jayna, but today she looked at her as if she was her worst enemy. Bad dream or not, Korie would have preferred to remain in bed a while longer to try and make sense of the dream.
Korie worked mornings, but she hated waking up early, especially on Saturday. Her first client wasn't until four o' clock in the afternoon. She would have rather slept in most of the day. She wasn't up for a run.
“Damn you look a hot mess! Did you get some last night or did you have a bad dream?”
Korie frowned at her best friend and scratched her head as she ushered her in. She wished she had some last night and started to lie, but Jayna would know better.
“I had a bad dream.” In the back of her mind, Korie was trying to make sense of it all.
“Well, it's over now. Time to get up, sleepyhead,” Jayna said, while running in place. “You wanna talk about it?”
“Nah, that's okay. You ready to run this morning?”
“Sure, can't you tell?”
Jayna did her playful mock-professional-runner's jog into Korie's apartment. She jogged around the living room a little bit like she was really ready to do something. Korie let out a half smile at her friend's playfulness. Jayna was running in place like she was about to audition for a Nike commercial.
Jayna wore jogging shorts that were a size extra-large. Although she was only a size eight, she needed the extra material to cover her perfectly round bottom. She tried her best to cover up her best asset, but there was nothing that could hide the fact that she had great hips and a butt that most women would die for.
She wore a headband and a sports bra that showed off her just-developing abs. Her long brown hair was up in a ponytail and she had a small backpack, which housed all of her personal belongings. Her legs were strong and powerful, and her arms were just beginning to tone up. In a few months time, Jayna might actually just be in good enough shape to do a commercial for Nike.
 
 
Korie hated getting up, but she was glad that her best friend was here. She was also glad that they vowed to push each other to get into shape. For four months now, they'd been watching what they ate. For four months they'd been going to the gym every other day and running on alternate days. Today was one of the days that they were scheduled to go running.
They were now up to two miles a day. This was a huge accomplishment because when they first started running, they could barely make it around the block. Now, they were considered “real runners” with the outfits, running shoes, and other such accessories.
They worked out in some way every day except Sunday. On Sunday they rested. Their excuse was it was the lord's day. The truth was by the time Sunday rolled around both women were often exhausted.
Korie looked at her girlfriend's progress and quickly became motivated. Before they started working out, Jayna and Korie were considered, by black standards, to be thick. The truth was they were both a few choice meals away from being fat.
Before they started working out, cellulite had begun to flex its muscle or lack thereof on their legs and perfectly round bottoms. They were both short of breath all the time, and they knew they needed to get in some type of shape. They were only in their late twenties, but they knew professional women in their forties who were in much better shape than they were.
Every white woman that they knew was in phenomenal shape, whereas both Korie and Jayna would sometimes be winded by a simple flight of stairs. They knew if they didn't get into shape soon, a heart attack, obesity or diabetes would claim them before there were in their mid-thirties. That's how out of shape they were.
A long, healthy life was the goal. The tight bodies they were getting were a bonus. Rather than continue to bitch and moan, Korie complimented her girl as she made her way to the coffee machine. She pointed her finger at her girlfriend with one hand and put her hand on her hip with the other as she jokingly took verbal shots at Jayna.
“I was going to curse your behind out for coming here so early, but now that I see how good you look, I know that we need to do this.”
Korie rolled her eyes as she spoke, then smiled.
“Girl thanks,” Jayna said. “Your hair is still a hot mess this morning, but look at you. You're in great shape too. Go jump in the shower, I'll finish making the coffee.”
“That sounds cool. A hot shower might just be the thing that I need.”
 
 
Korie retreated into her bedroom to gather her things and Jayna went to the kitchen to grab two cups for coffee.
At first glance, Jayna looked like a model out of a black men's magazine. She had long, strong hair, striking features, chiseled curves, and a beautiful smile. She was a woman whose main goal in life was to be the perfect woman and one day a wife. Jayna was smart, thick, and stunning: Three great qualities that black men loved in a woman. Men saw her and often paused. Many were captured with her smile and later mesmerized by her body. Jayna was a gorgeous black woman. Part of the problem was she knew she was a gorgeous black woman.
Just as beautiful as Jayna was, she was also very demanding when it came to men. They had to look a certain way, dress a certain way, and make at least six figures if they were going to speak to her. Aside from that, men were a waste of her time. She loved the attention that she got, but only if it was from the right kind of man. Average men were boring to Jayna and above-average men were often competing for her affection.
Jayna's standards were high. Some might say her standards were unrealistic. This was probably why at twenty-nine and a half, she was still single. She had proposal offers, but, for one reason or another, things never seemed to work out.
Jayna thought if she improved the outer woman, men would see her and offer her the world. She figured she deserved the world because of her looks. She often thought to herself that God made her so damned fine because he wanted someone to take care of her. She figured no man could turn her down and any man who would was a damned fool.
Korie loved her girlfriend but knew if Jayna needed to change anything, it was the woman she was on the inside. Jayna had strong credentials and experience, but that did nothing for who she was as a person.
Jayna was a financial advisor in a downtown Chicago firm. She could talk finances with the best of the best. Professionally, she was considered a beast. She was a true force to be reckoned with. But then there was the other side of the coin. Personally, Jayna was a bit of a bitch—or at least that is how most men saw her. Seeing her fueled their lust for her, but most men referred to Jayna as a bitch or gold digger behind her back.
Gold digger wasn't a fair assessment of her because Jayna had her own money and was quite independent. There was nothing a man could do for her that she couldn't do for herself. However, she demanded that the men she dated be either powerful or wealthy. The two things were almost always linked hand in hand.
To date her, the criteria were quite strict. If a man met those criteria, he would be given an open invitation as one of her suitors. Oftentimes, this also meant that he would be given an open invitation into her bedroom. Jayna was drawn to powerful men.
Jayna bedded many men who she came across. She was like a black version of the character Samantha Jones on Sex and the City. That was one of her major flaws. Sometimes she acted as if she were addicted to sex. If nothing else, she was addicted to the attention.
She was in therapy for her issues with men. She was also in therapy for being what her therapist called hypersexual. Let Jayna tell it, she simply liked powerful men and also liked sex.
That was her position.
The position of her therapist was that Jayna was having high-risk behaviors; behaviors that often had high consequences. Jayna had been blessed that she hadn't been raped, killed or given an STD. These were three very real things that could have happened to her at any time. Things she never thought about until after she had an orgasm.
Korie didn't think that Jayna was a whore or whorish, but she did think her girlfriend was sometimes too eager to give away her goodies. She knew that Jayna needed help, and was happy that she was seeing a professional.
Korie's worst nightmare would be for her longtime friend to come to her crying one day because she got the big disease with the little name. If that should ever happen, Korie was sure that Jayna would gladly trade places with their friend Eula, who recently lost her leg to a different disease—diabetes. Korie worried often about her friend. Every night she prayed for her. Even with counseling, that didn't stop Jayna from having the high-risk behaviors. It didn't stop her from inviting many men into her bedroom.
The more money and more potential stability a man had to offer, the greater his chances were of taking Jayna to bed. She'd slept with very powerful men around the city of Chicago. She slept with them in their offices, the homes that they shared with their wives, and in many of Chicago's best hotels.
All the men Jayna bedded were handsome and were all considered pretty good catches professionally. Some were clients, some were colleagues. All of them were men who could make things happen. The problem was none of them ever made anything happen with Jayna, outside of sex.
Nothing serious ever developed from any of those relationships and because of that, Jayna was down on herself. She would sometimes come to Korie complaining about how trifling men were, even the professional ones.
There were times that Korie would listen to her girlfriend and say to herself, what did you expect to happen?
When Jayna was upset about a man, she shopped. She bought the finest clothes, drove luxury cars, and traveled often. The thing was, many times she was doing these things alone. If not alone, then she would have one-night stands with men she barely knew. The men were always wealthy, but they were almost always married.

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