Simone

Simone’s anxiety rose as she thought about Friday. She was scheduled to take the State Bar Exam for the fourth time since she completed her Law studies at Yale University. She graduated at the top of her class, and received notoriety as the first African American Female to be given such a high honor.



Simone dialed Lauren, her best friend since Elementary School.



“Lauren, I can’t do it! If I just postpone it one more time, I can have the next month to be completely dedicated to my studies. I’m leaving Will alone, so my mind will be free. It’s been 10 months since I graduated; I have job offers from two of the top firms in the country.”



“Ok Simone. Whatever!”



“What’s the attitude for?”



“No reason, Simone. Do your thing. I just hope that this nigga is willing to take care of your unemployed ass; since apparently beginning the career you’ve worked so hard for is NO LONGER a priority! Listen, I have to get Destiny to school. I’ll catch you later.” She hung up.

Simone opened her file cabinet, and searched for the number to the State Bar Association. She decided that she would reschedule her exam for the last time. She had 30 days to get her shit right.

She scanned her closet for something to wear. She decided on a pair of dark, boot cut Citizens Of Humanity jeans, a crisp white wife beater, and a plum colored shell. She accented with large hoop earrings, one bracelet, and a pair of bad ass 5 inch Gucci pumps she ordered online.



“Damn!” She gave herself a once-over, and headed outside to the car.



As she backed out of the garage, she saw Will pulling up. She hadn’t spoken to him since the incident yesterday morning. She wanted to discuss it with Lauren, but decided it wasn’t such a good idea considering the way the conversation went this morning.

He pulled his car into the driveway, blocking her in. He got out, and walked up to her window.

“Are you ignoring my calls or what? I’ve been calling you since yesterday.”



“Will, did you really think that I had anything to say to you after what happened? I’m so over it. You obviously made your decision. I’ve wasted too much time with this as it is.”



“Baby, what was I supposed to do? My daughter was there!”



Simone continued. “Do you have any idea how ridiculous I feel? I mean, lets think about this. I show up to your business to take you to dinner for your birthday…Only for me to walk in and see your EX Wi…..excuse me…Your WIFE, that you still aren’t divorced from, by the way, standing there with flowers and balloons????? Are you kidding me Will?!?!?!?!!”



“What was I supposed to do?” Will pleaded.



“You were supposed to tell her that YES, you are STILL seeing me. YES we are getting a place together. NOT tell her that you had no idea WHY I was there. NOT that you haven’t spoken with me since she found out about us! THAT’S what you were supposed to do Will.”



“I just don’t want to hurt her more than I already have. The divorce will be final next month. Then, we can tell her. Please try and understand.”



“Move your car. I need to leave.”



Will walked slowly to his car, and got in. He sat there for a few minutes before turning the engine on. Before Simone knew it, her car was being rammed from behind by Will’s truck.

“Will, what are you doing!!!! Stop!!!!” She looked in the rearview, only to see Will screaming and crying hysterically. He backed into the street, and once again placed the car in drive.

Quickly, Simone opened the door, and jumped out of her car, rolling into the grass. Seconds later, Will accelerated, ramming the back of her car, forcing it into the garage door. Her windshield shattered as the garage door came tumbling down at full speed onto the hood of her car.

He backed up, and fled down the street.



That night Simone changed her number. The next morning, she withdrew a thousand dollars from her Savings account and had her car repaired. Thank God Lauren was mad at her, that way she didn’t have to worry about her popping up unannounced, like she usually did.

On her way back home that evening, she received a call from a blocked number.



“Simone, this is Gloria; Will’s wife.”



Simone listened.



“I’m calling you because, this morning, Will overdosed on our daughters ADD medication. He just woke up, and is asking for you. He’s hysterical. I think it would be best for him, if you came down. He’s at Vista View Mental Health Hospital. 4th Floor.”



“I’m on my way,” Simone hung up the phone, made a U turn, and entered the freeway, heading north. She didn’t care about yesterday’s incident. Will needed her.



Simone parked in the parking structure, and took the elevator to the fourth floor. Her stomach was in knots. She fixed her hair, and reapplied her gloss. She still had to make sure she looked decent; especially considering Gloria would be there.



“Hello. Can you tell me what room Will Davenport is in, please?”



The nurse behind the counter looked at Simone before answering her.

“He’s in room 104. May I ask your relationship to the patient, please?”



Simone paused. “I’m a close friend of his.”



“One moment, I received strict orders about who is allowed in the room.” She picked up the rotary phone, and dialed a series of numbers.



“Mrs. Davenport, this is Nurse Rhonda. I have a Simone here to visit the patient. Is it okay to send her in? Oh? Ok, I see. I’ll let her know.”



The heavy set, middle aged woman placed the phone on the cradle, her entire tone strained when she spoke.

“Ms. Simone, is it? The patients WIFE has advised me that due to his fragile state, she would prefer that you NOT disrupt this very difficult time for them. I’m sure you understand this simple request enough to comply without the assistance of security?”



It took everything for Simone not to create a scene in Vista View Mental Health Hospital. What kind of sick game was this bitch playing with her? I mean, Gloria called HER to come down. She gathered her purse from the countertop.



“Thank you, Ma’am. There must have been some miscommunication.”



She turned, and headed towards the elevator.



“Simone, wait!!!” It was Gloria.



Simone turned around, face to face with Will’s wife. She wore a brown, velour sweat suit with BEBE bedazzled across the chest. Her hair was clipped on top of her head, no make up, and simple silver hoop earrings. She had on her wedding ring.



“I called you here so that I could explain a few things to you. Your little year long “affair” with Will, has taken such a toll on his mental state that he is now HERE, in a Psychiatric Hospital. I’ve decided that it is in his best interest for me to stay around until he is well again. We are cancelling the divorce. Please do not make any further attempts to contact him. His number will be changed as of tomorrow morning, and if it becomes an issue, I will have a restraining order filed against you. Any questions?”



Against her better judgment, Simone replied. “Are you kidding me Gloria? YOU have made him crazy with your sick antics, and years of emotional abuse. You haven’t been faithful to him for more than a month at a time. But NOW you care? Why is that, Gloria? Because he has a woman who actually WANTS him now? Gloria is ALWAYS up for a good battle, right? Well, check this out. I’m no longer interested in being your competition. It seems Will, is just as sick as the woman he married. Good Luck to you.”



Simone smiled at Gloria, and got on the elevator. As soon as she got off, she walked over to a grassy area, bent over, and threw up; sick over how she spent the last year of her life.



On her drive home, she thought about how she met Will, and the little interest she initially had in him. They both had a membership to Westside Fitness, and worked out on the same 3 mornings. He made a comment about the way she used one of the Abs machines, and they’ve been in communication since that day.

The first time she went out with Will, he took her skydiving. They shared the same passion for “Extreme Sports”; something she never thought she could have with a black man. They enjoyed the same foods, loved the same music, and had conversations that lasted for hours at a time. Sex with Will wasn’t mind blowing, however the feelings she shared for him intensified things tremendously.

Will was already contemplating divorce when he met Simone; their union was just what he needed to speed up the process.



Simone became infuriated instantly. Here it was, one year later, and STILL, no divorce.



For the next three weeks, Simone studied like never before. Will made no attempt to contact her, and her pride was too strong for any effort to be made on her end.



She spent 4 hours a day at the library, and attended study groups every Friday and Saturday Evening. Her test was in two days, and for the first time, she was ready.



The night before her exam day, Simone stopped at Starbucks for a late night Frap to keep her alert while she “recapped” her material.



She took a seat inside, and grabbed the newspaper while she waited on her coffee.

The front page article paralyzed her.



“Will Davenport, local businessman, dies at 39 by a single gunshot wound to the head.”







To be continued……..

Purposeful Pu**y

Fella's have you ever noticed that there is a DISTINCT difference between sex with a woman who is content with mediocrity, versus a woman who is ambitious and about her paper? Its almost like it has a DIRECT affect on the pussy!
You DON'T have to be a mathematician to solve this equation:
Bitter Woman = Bitter Pussy. That simple!
Then you have a woman like ME. Accessorized with what I'd like to call, "Purposeful Pussy." I know you're wondering just what this means, right?
Well.....for starters, every woman does NOT have "Purposeful Pussy", and unfortunately every man hasn't had the pleasure of experiencing such a marvel. One that I can't imagine being omitted from the 7 wonders of the world.
As a matter of fact, it's received notoriety as the "Mystical Monster." Its been known to change a pit bull into a kind little kitty cat, grown men into thumb-sucking babies, and even has the power to draw blood from a turnip!
"Purposeful Pussy" comes along with a woman who strives to be the best in ALL aspects of her world; including her responsibilities as a lover. She is a woman who understands that she isn't perfect, but gives the impression that she is by embracing her flaws as tightly as her Kegel muscles. She accepts the hand she's dealt, and turns it into Vegas, INSTEAD OF worrying about the number of times she's renigged. Its like the juices of confidence and drive excrete from the canal; similar to that of a Tsunami - washing away all inhibitions, insecurities, or self-doubt.
"Purposeful Pussy" isn't for just ANY man. It takes a self-assured, motivated, goal-oriented man to appreciate such a commodity. A man who understands her worth, and realizes WITHOUT intimidation, her enhancement to his life. Only ONE type of man, is worthy of this treasure.
A man garnished with "Driven Dick."

................Stay tuned...............

If There Is Anything You Need To Know...... Call Me (8/13/2010)

The best advice I ever got was from my husband's mistress. Funny we convince ourselves that all we REALLY have to do is "get a nigga to marry us" and the rest is HIS job. It is perfectly fine to adapt that way of thinking, as long as you don't mind him missing a dinner every now and then, because he's busy fuc---, excuse me, I mean, having "meetings" with his "business partner". The reality is, nothing makes more sense than the old quote, "What you won't do, the next bitch will". It's that simple. So the choice is yours, step your shit up or you might as well call the bitch from his "job" and tell her she can come pick his punk ass up! Real Shit! He's on his way out anyway. Probably while you're in your room, on the phone, crying to your 300lb best friend about how you can't lose the baby fat from your fourth grade son. Bitch, replace the donut with your man's dick, if you plan on keeping him.

I'll never forget the night the bitch called me. It was our one year anniversary and we were just coming in from dinner with friends. I had a suite booked for us that evening, but because of an "unexpected business crisis", he had to drop me off at home so he could once again, "save his business".

Just as he left out of the door, the phone rang. Was it coincidence that the call came in at this particular time? The voice on the other end was poised, confident, yet still laced with empathy.... Or maybe it was pity. "Hello," I said. The words she spoke after, pierced me to my core.

"Before you hang up, you can allow your pride to continue to consume your logic, or you can humble yourself, listen to some real advice, and make this the last anniversary you spend talking to your husband's mistress on the phone."

"I'm listening," I mumbled. I got up and closed the door, unsure of what I had just said, but had no desire to take it back or hang up the phone.

For the next hour, I listened defenseless, at the details surrounding the relationship my husband shared for the last year, with a woman who effortlessly shared her heart and soul with the man I TOOK VOWS WITH. She spoke of the many nights they spent dancing, talking, making love until the wee hours of the morning, while I sat at home convincing myself that he was out working to provide for our family.

At that moment, any confidence I had left was stripped. I felt my defenses go up as I rudely asked her, "What kind of a woman does this shit?".

She replied with, "The kind of woman YOU need to start being to your husband if you plan on keeping him. Listen baby girl, a man LOVES a confident woman. Makes his dick hard without you having to place one hand on the shit. A woman who KNOWS what she wants and goes after it. Men don't want a needy bitch. And frankly, that's who you've become to him. Which is why he's on his way here now. You NEED him to be the man... I WANT him for the man he is. The thing is, once you start taking care of you, he'll follow. Don't get me wrong, cooking, cleaning, and keeping an organized house, are ALL great. But they don't mean shit if you ain't bending over on those clean counter tops and letting him hit that shit from the back sometimes. Because to keep it real, I don't know one nigga who's out with his homeboys talking about how clean his mutha fuckin' house is. Did you know he loved freshly squeezed lemonade? But any ordinary lemon wouldn't do. He prefers carefully selected lemons from Trader Joe's. Every Saturday morning, I would make a special trip to get his lemons. Something you wouldn't dare do because, "it's out of your way". Which is why he now "works" on Sundays...... Putting in overtime at my house. While he's drinking his lemonade alongside a home cooked meal complete with me as dessert. Do you know last Sunday I actually watched tears fall from his eyes as he told me that he couldn't imagine "pussy so good"? Don't be mistaken, it's not the way I stroke his dick that has him "working late", "working out", "forgetting things at the store", etc... It's the way I stroke his ego as a whole. He's a man. And I make him feel every bit of that every chance I get. But the reality is, I'm not cut out to be number 2. And when he finally made the decision to make me number 1, it was his ability to walk so easily from his family, that lessened my desire for him. So tonight will be our final night together. And as an anniversary gift to you both, I'll gracefully return him to you. But I couldn't do so without enlightening you first. It's up to you if you take heed to the advice you've been given. But in my opinion, it is imperative that you do. He's a good man, just not for me. "

It was then that I heard her doorbell ring. Before hanging up, she ended the conversation with these six words, "Don't worry. I won't fuck him."

I called it a night knowing I'd be up early the next morning, driving across town, to Trader Joe's.





***** Although my pieces are completely fictional, they are inspired by life's realities. They are meant solely for the reader's enjoyment. So if you find yourself offended by anything that is read, feel free to delete your name from my friends' list. I'm a big girl, I can take it :-) **********

It's Time For A Wardrobe Change (8/15/2010)

Clearly, there is a "stupid bug" out there biting unsuspecting men and women. Case and point taken, if he was late for your first date, he will probably be late for the last. Or worse...THE WEDDING. See, too often we ignore the signs in the beginning...failing to acknowledge and more importantly, CORRECT the shit. The result? YOU'VE BEEN BIT! STUPID! By ALL definitions of the word! We expect the best houses, cars, and handbags...but why not the best RELATIONSHIPS?? The "Stupid bug" bit me about a few years back. Apparently, he bit two of my "friends" around the same time, because we were ALL sleeping with the same man and we ALL secretly knew about the other. STILL meeting for happy hour on Fridays, helping with birthday parties for our kids, and still defending the other friends to folks outside of the "circle". And although I was receiving regular updates about my man's "activities", it still wasn't enough. I was still ironing his clothes for work and sending him on his way with a kiss. I won’t lie...many mornings it was a kiss to BOTH "heads." My reasoning? He's an "excellent" provider and dad. But wait! On second thought, I DID pay half the mortgage, and whatever I couldn't do for the kids, my mother provided. So what was he REALLY contributing anyway? Am I this stupid? Settling for half, or worse, a third, instead of setting some boundaries and goals for this "relationship"? Apparently, YES! Because three years later, I was STILL indulging in the bullshit! Mediocrity had become my new wardrobe. Actually, mediocrity had become my life. I settled for sub-standard friendships, in addition to my sub-standard relationship. Time with my girls was no longer about maintaining genuine friendships. It had turned into being together as much as possible in an effort to minimize the availability they had to spend with my man. In fact, I think this was the goal amongst all of us. I realized that the companionship of a man became more important than the loyalty of friends on the night friend #2 invited me to have drinks. Friend #1 claimed to be ill and was unable to attend. I attempted to make a courtesy call to my man letting him know I was hanging out with the girls that night. Instead, I saw a text from him that read, "Jay got picked up on a DUI - gotta go by his moms, be home late." Now the "stupid bug" would have me believing that my man was a loyal and dedicated friend, but I knew DAMN well, there was more to THAT story! In the midst of curling my hair, my cell rings with Friend #1's number showing on Caller ID. I say "hello" repeatedly, with no response. Something tells me not to disconnect the call. I sat on the phone and listened for a good 60 seconds. Now, I KNEW 10 seconds into the call what the moans and groans were but I stayed on longer. Then I heard a ringtone...one I was all too familiar with...one my nine year old son and me had created for his daddy. My nine year old rapping and I singing backup. I hung up. Everything I had known and ignored was authenticated in one minute. The choice I made was to bundle up in the jacket of mediocrity I had worn so well. After all, I found comfort in knowing he would be back in my bed tonight, that's all that mattered. I stared in the mirror at the reflection of a feeble "woman's" face that was unrecognizable to me. Determined to have a much-needed night out, I made myself vodka and cran, held the cran, and finished getting dressed. After drink #2, I grabbed my clutch, fluffed my hair once more, and smacked my freshly glossed lips together, just in time for my friend's arrival. I hopped in her car with a smile on my face, never mentioning what had just occurred. "Let's do this" I said as we drove off. We arrive at "the spot." It’s crowded, bumper-to-bumper traffic. Parking is unbelievable. We jump out of her shit and immediately get into "DIVA" mode. We grab a drink and make our way through the club. We made our way to the second level and see a circle forming on the first. My friend and I were laughing and joking that it had to be some hoe on the ground "Showing her ass." It's not until we heard the DJ say, "WE HAVE A YES!!" that we move a little closer to the crowd. We were damn near blinded by the rock that sat on the ring, but what REALLY caught our attention was the man holding the ring..."KEDRAN!" Friend #2 and I scream simultaneously. But what was even more shocking was whom the ring now belonged to... Friend #1; who looked into my eyes and pretended to not even know who I was. I looked over at "my man”, with the words "I'm sorry" escaping from his lips. I turned around and walked away, ignoring Friend #2 repeatedly screaming my name.

It was at this time that I removed my jacket and left it on the table that held our drinks. The jacket of mediocrity that had once been a timeless piece was no longer in season.

What a Tangled Web We Weave (8/16/2010)

What a tangled web we weave when we introduce our "representative", instead of ourselves.

Why do we feel it necessary to create these falsehoods when meeting new people, instead of being confident enough to show the "real us?" Take for example the "brotha in the club". Confident, manicured, well spoken, and "SINGLE." Or so we think. He approaches us...as smooth as soft serve chocolate ice cream, nuts included, fresh from cold stone. Immediately...the bait is snatched. First thing he does? Hands over a business card with his name, and some "promotions”,"entertainment" OR "photography" company that he "owns". Now..Common sense ladies would tell us that if there's no fax number, or physical address on that bitch...HOW REPUTABLE IS THIS BUSINESS?

But instead, we keep our focus on the smooth skin, straight teeth, tailored suit and "single" status. He tells us how he is a "different type of man", "not like the rest", and that he wouldn’t feel right unless he walks us to our car. "Please make sure you call when you make it home. I won't be able to rest unless I know you made it safe." Immediately we start thinking about this fool being "potential husband material." The weaving has started.



What a tangled web we weave when we create our own realities instead of looking at what’s right there in front of us.

After a few conversations, and late night "text" sessions, we decide to meet. "Hell no, I am not giving him none on the first date."

Ok, but we can’t wait to get his ass over. We drop the kids off, clean the house spotless, and put Pandora on Jill Scott Radio, which by the way is the shit!! We take a few shots of vodka, stick a piece of gum in our mouth, put some open books on the table and dim the lights. The doorbell rings. "Hey. I was just reading. Almost didn’t hear the door." PLEASE!! You know damn well you were NOT reading.... haven’t looked at that book since you graduated college 5 YEARS AGO! You were too busy shaping that "landing strip" for the Negro you "weren’t giving any too." He compliments your house, tells you how refreshing it is to finally meet a woman like you. He speaks of how he's never been married because he refuses to "settle" for anything less than a righteous woman. Says he made the decision not to have children, because when he finally does, it will "be with the woman that god chose for him." You stare at him in awe and silently thank God for sending you the right man, at the same time trying to remember if the crotch of your newly purchased panties are lined, to avoid leaving a wet on your cashmere colored suede couch.

You talk for hours, about "Real shit", and how he would never disrespect you by sleeping with you on the first date. "Thank You", you say. Moments later, you grab his hand and lead him to your room. Within seconds, you are both asshole naked, with your leg propped up on the bathroom counter. In 2 hours, this nigga has gone from being your "God sent" to your "Daddy". Ha!

At the end of the night, you convince yourself that you have definitely met the "one", despite the fact that his phone hasn't stopped vibrating since he got there. Or that his car was keyed from the front bumper to the back door. Not my business, you say.



What a tangled web we weave when we start changing who WE are for the sake of a "representative."

Soon, our every thought is consumed with making sure we keep our "new man". We know he is only available during "specific hours" because after all, his business keeps him busy. We begin rescheduling our OWN shit, so that we can stay available during the times that he is "free." We start making regular stops to the mall to pick up new "bra and panty sets". We've all of a sudden become Bath N Body's best customer. Shrimp and fresh asparagus replaces the nuggets and frozen dinners that once occupied our coolers.

Soon our regular visits become swapped with "I'm sorry babe, late night meeting." Or "I have to drive to Long Beach, can’t make it tonight". We STILL convince ourselves that we have found Mr. Right, even though it is now 5 months in, and we have YET to call his ass at HOME.



What a tangled web we weave when we KNOW we are sharing, but we still chose to live in oblivion.

You are now receiving more calls from private numbers than you did when you let your grandma use your cell phone number on all the dumb ass sweepstakes forms she filled out. Only difference the sweepstakes reps weren't calling at 2 am...or were they? I mean every time he's there your phones are BOTH ringing at the SAME time from the SAME private number. Guess he has a gambling grannie too! Every time he's there, he has to be gone no later than 2 am. Isn’t that the time the clubs close? Well, on Saturday nights it’s because he has to get up earlyfor church on Sundays. But why is he ALWAYS dressed in slacks and a dress shirt, or a suit whenever he comes over? Even if it’s at 11 pm? Oh yeah, he said he's coming from a "Business meeting." Damn, he’s such a hard worker. I wonder where all his "hard worker" money goes. I'm always the one buying the food, stocking the bar with "drank", and spending all my money on lingerie I don't need.



What a tangled web we weave when we start participating in the lies, stopping our own growth.

"Listen baby. I love you so much I need to be honest with you. See I have a situation....................My heart isn’t there, but....... I’m sure you understand. Please just be patient. I promise, it’s just a matter of time."

So we start sympathizing, improvising, and becoming stagnant in our growth because "This man is worth waiting for". How did we get HERE in our lives that it is now ok to settle for something that we would NEVER fathom doing? My mama would beat me blue, if she even thought I would CONSIDER engaging in relations with someone else’s man! But that power of rationalization is a mutha!!!!! Can creep up on you like the pain of that wisdom tooth that should’ve BEEN out! Next thing you know our feelings are so wrapped up into what we thought was "Heaven sent". We start straying away from the church, isolating ourselves from our friends...consumed with the idea of a life with the "representative". All the while, the web is now out of control. The lies have become so overwhelming on both sides, that no one can even decipher the truth anymore.



What a tangled web we weave when we introduce our "representatives" instead of ourselves.

Friday nights had become routine to me. I would wait for him to arrive after leaving a "business meeting", which was always around 11pm. 11:05 exactly, the doorbell rings, and he walks in. "Baby, let's not even talk. Just pull your panties down." I turn into the submissive freak that he loved and give him what he asked for. The couch that I had once obsessed over keeping clean was now decorated with spots of passion. After our weekly session, we get up, put our clothes on, without bathing, and agree that a trip to Wal-Mart was needed. The Vodka was down to the last drop, and we were out of condoms. We hop in MY car. We couldn’t drive his too often...it was leased and he had to keep his "miles low".

We walk in Wal-Mart, grab our necessities and head to aisle 19 to check out. The cashier was obviously in no mood to converse with 30 somethin' year olds giggling and buying condoms at midnight, because her mood was horrible. Maybe it was the smell of passion that escaped his fingers when he handed over the money.

Before she could accept it, we both hear a woman's voice. "Sweetie, what are you doing here? You asked ME to pick up the wine. I expected to beat you home." I was face to face with a carmel-skinned, small framed woman carrying a bottle of Merlot. "Hello. I'm Shay. Ronnie's wife."

Like a well-rehearsed line in an upcoming Tyler Perry film I responded, "Nice to meet you Shay. I've heard so much about you. I went to school with Ronnie. What a coincidence running into him here."

I bowed my head in shame, ignoring the cashier’s looks of confusion and disgust.

"Bye you two. Ronnie, it was nice seeing you. Take care."

I walked out of Wal-Mart knowing that my representative had just made her first formal introduction.

Be Careful What You Wish For (8/19/2010)

Kelvin couldn't wait to see his boo. He had just made Senior VP of Marketing at FlowLine Records and was already making plans for the six figure income he would be making. He locked up his desk, closed the door to his office, and headed to his car. He grinned at the thought of trading in the 06 Chevy Tahoe he drove, for the 2011 black on black Range Rover perfectly accented with the 24 inch custom Lexani rims he'd always wanted. "Damn, I can't wait," his mouth watered as he thought of all the new haters that would be added to the long ass list that already existed.

He dialed Sharey's number. She answered on the first ring. "Baby, I'm almost there. Go ahead and get us a seat." Sharey and Kelvin met in high school and dated for about six months their senior year. After graduation, Kelvin went away to FAMU, while Sharey remained local and attended Clark University. They spoke regularly during their freshman year, but eventually the distance was too much to keep the flame burning. Kelvin had dated many women.... hundreds maybe. But none of them excited him, or stimulated his brain (both big and small), like Sharey did. Every time he thought about her in those red laced panties the day he left, it made him wish he would have attended Morehouse over FAMU.

The ink on his marketing degree was still wet when he booked a flight and moved back to the ATL. Being amongst his own people gave him a joy that no other city could. He loved Atlanta. Within two months of being home, he purchased a house, car, and secured a marketing position with the largest recording label on the south end. Coincidentally, Sharey also had a career in the industry. She was a publishing editor for THE largest black entertainment magazine nationwide. It was six years since Kelvin returned to Atlanta, and him and Sharey had been exclusive since. He'd been trying desperately to convince her of taking the relationship to the next level. Sharey was the only woman he could see himself spending his life with. But every time the subject came up, Sharey insisted she wasn't ready for "that" yet. It was the same free spirited nature that attracted him to her, that also pushed him away. Her flirtatious ways were often times the reason for their arguments,but it didn't take much to convince him that she was all he needed.

Kelvin's best friend Dave always warned him to keep an eye on her, but he took it with a grain of salt. He was aware of his friend's attraction to Sharey and knew his "suspicion" was generated from jealousy. There was one time in particular when Sharey went on one of her many "trips". "Man why do you pay for that bitches trips? There's no way I'd let MY woman be gone in another country with NO supervision! You trust that bitch like that?" Dave acted like a broad at times. He would be so pissed at how I was spending MY money on MY woman, that we would get into extreme arguments and not talk the whole time she was gone. "Fuck that nigga". Kelvin knew that Dave was genuinely concerned for his well being, after all, they had been friends for 25 years,but he was beginning to grow tired of his punk ass ways.

The arguments never lasted long. Sharey would always return from her trip, catch wind of the feud, and immediately begin reuniting the friends. She would remind Kelvin of how much he loves Dave and would ask him why he couldn't be more "laid back like him." "Maybe then you wouldn't get your panties in a bunch every time he said something you didn't like," she would say. It seemed like she was always on his side, but because Kelvin respected her opinion so much, he usually gave in. But this time was different. It had been two weeks since Sharey returned, and he still hadn't spoken with or seen Dave. Even their two times a week work out sessions had stopped. Kelvin noticed lately that Sharey was constantly on edge and the slightest disagreement would set her off. They once had a sex life that any nigga would pay to have. That too had become non existent. It seems her periods went from lasting five days to damn near three weeks. He couldn't remember the last time she gave him head.

"Baby what's wrong."

"I wish you would just stop Kelvin. I need a fucking break. I can't breathe with you hounding me every day. Just because we don't fuck all the time, doesn't mean you have to be moping around here like you lost your damn mama. Damn you act like a bitch!"

Kelvin felt that the pressures of her career were finally starting to push her over the edge. He knew he had to do something to help her relax. He figured the intense schedule he had been following had caused her to feel some type of negligence from him. So he decided to send flowers and a spa package to show his appreciation for her.



The card attached read:

"Meet me at the airport tomorrow at 2:00PM for a flight that leaves at 4:00. Pack enough clothes for seven days. I've already arranged your absence with your job. I love you, Kelvin"



Sharey knew that Kelvin loved her and decided this trip would be the perfect time for her to finally agree to being the woman he deserved. Kelvin was a good man and in her heart she knew she would never find anyone who would love her the way he did. She set up her absence greetings on her e-mails and voice mails, finished a final album review, and made one last phone call before leaving her office. "Hey, we need to talk. I'll be there tomorrow at noon. See you then." She spent the afternoon shopping for her trip and even picked up a small gift for Kelvin once they arrived. She was so happy to finally make things right. She had the most peaceful sleep that night, knowing that tomorrow there would be no more lies.



Kelvin packed up the truck, dropped the key off at his neighbor's, and decided that since he had an hour to spare before he leaving, he would stop at Dave's to patch things up. There was no way he could thoroughly enjoy himself with such a heavy heart. Plus he wanted to share the news with Dave that he was going to propose and was confident that THIS time, she was going to accept. He stopped at the corner store and grabbed two beers before pulling up to Dave's complex. Kelvin let himself in because it was Saturday and with Dave working the night shift on Fridays,he didn't usually get out of bed before two o'clock. He set the beers on the counter and went straight to Dave's bedroom. The door was cracked. To Kelvin's surprise he saw a pair of limited edition Red Bottoms that looked all to familiar. If he remembered correctly, those were the same pair of pumps he got Sharey last Valentine's Day. It was all she talked about for months. His intuition told him to take a closer look so he softly pushed the door open a little more. That's when he saw Sharey, naked, on her knees, unzipping Dave's pants, and placing his manhood in her mouth.

Kelvin was so devastated he couldn't find the strength or words to confront either one of them, so he decided to just leave. He left out the door, grabbed the beers, and popped one open before getting in his truck. He drove off unsure of where he was going or what decision should be made. All he knew was he loved Sharey with every bone in his body.



Sharey washed up, got dressed, and felt relieved that she finally made the right decision. She hugged Dave one last time, and reminded him that their affair could never be spoken of. "You're a good man, Dave and one day you'll find the right woman. Take care." She arrived at the airport and immediately started looking for Kelvin. She was afraid that she was late because "on time" for him always meant early. She checked her bags in and went straight to their terminal. For some reason she felt an uneasiness that just wouldn't go away. She scanned through the other passengers looking for Kelvin and figured he must be in the bathroom. She tried his cell phone with no answer so she decided to confirm whether or not he had already checked in. The Check-In attendant at the counter looked at her and asked, "Are you Sharey?" Sharey smiled and confirmed her identity. The lady handed Sharey a blue box and a folded up piece of paper. "Kelvin asked that I give you this." Confused she took the items and made her way back to her seat. Sharey opened the box and was surprised to see the box was empty.



She unfolded the letter and began reading:



Dear Sharey, My heart is as empty as the box you're holding. Seems we've both had many wishes. You wished I was more of the man you wanted. And my only wish was for your happiness. Seems you found that in Dave. Mama always said, "Be Careful What You Wish For."

Nick Knows He Lied When He Said, " Love Don't Cost a Thing" (8/24/2010)

Nina pulled her creme sheer curtains back, opened her window and looked outside at her newly planted garden. Orchids were her favorite flower, and she promised herself that if she ever got a place of her own the first thing she would do is plant some, right outside of her bedroom window. The aroma immediately drifted in, a scent she yearned for the last few years of her life.

She had one hour to get dressed, and make it across town to her first session of the morning. Nina was a Family Therapist for the Seattle Department of Social Services, and during her "spare" time, she spoke with the women at the State Penitentiary. She attended Howard University right out of High School, and obtained her BA in Human Services. It wasn’t until recently that she was able to go back to school locally and continue her education. She received her Masters in Family Therapy, and was now pursuing her PH.D in Counseling. Nina loved working with people, women particularly. She felt that it was her obligation to "give back", especially knowing how greatly she herself had been blessed.

She walked up the stairs to the conference room. She opened the door, flicked on the lights, and frowned at the dullness of the place. She hated the gray paint on the walls and could never imagine how the state expected people to "feel good" in such a cold atmosphere.

"Oh Well," she thought. "It's just a matter of time before I get my own center. Hold On Girl." She smiled to herself.

She had about 20 minutes to spare before her first family came in, so she decided to familiarize herself with the file first. Her stomach dropped as she read it. It was ridiculously similar to her own life. She put the file down, and reminisced about the last 10 years of her life.

She met Kevin during her first year of college at Howard University. There was a local bar that the students attended, and Kevin was a "regular" there. Not a "regular" student, but a 25-year-old “regular" Club attendee. The minute she saw him, she knew this was a man she wanted to pursue. She was only 19 years old, but always felt and appeared older than her true years. She could tell he was older, by not only the midnight black, perfectly filled goat tee that he rocked, but his demeanor as well. He was "Cool" and didn't talk too much. He smiled at her when he caught her looking; flashing the most beautiful set of dimples, she had ever laid eyes on. She knew before the end of the week she would be in his bed, with her legs wrapped around his broad, chocolate back. Hell, if she had it her way, by the end of the night.

He walked over to her, and she damn near fainted. “

I would hate to impede on someone's territory, but I couldn't help but come over to you. Can I have your number?" She immediately wrote her number down and handed it to him. He Continued.” My name is Kevin. And now that I got what I came for, I can go home. I'll call you baby girl." He smiled, and walked out. She had no idea how costly that number exchange would end up being.

The first year Nina dated Kevin, she loved every minute of it. Although she came from an extremely stable family, there was something about dysfunctional shit that kept her blood flowing. Kevin's background was as screwed up as his credit. His mother had him at 15, he didn’t know his father, and he had been in and out of Y.A since he was 12.

She will never forget their second date. He cried to her, and said that he was so blessed to have met her, and all he needed was "a woman like her" to help him do "right". Nina knew that Kevin had great potential, and wanted nothing more than to show him how to live up to that. She loved Kevin from the moment she saw him, and was determined to help him become the man SHE KNEW he could be.

Nina knew Kevin hustled, but didn't mind as long as he kept it away from their place. She never knew EXACTLY what he did. All she knew was that whatever it was, it was enough to keep her in the flyest gear, driving the hottest whips, and a full refrigerator in the apartment HE paid for. She was able to focus on her education at Howard University, without the distraction of a job.

Everyone in the street knew Kevin as "K-Smooth". Even the bitches. I think they gave him the name because of his skin. It was smooth like melted Hershey's chocolate. The dark kind. Nina always suspected that Kevin messed with other women, but that was the least of her concerns. SHE was the one getting her bills paid. SHE was the one getting a full ticket to school, and most of all SHE was the one he was coming home to every night. Isn’t that all that mattered?

Nina can remember coming home one day early from school and finding her "good friend Rhonda's" car parked outside. She knew that Kevin used alot of her friends to help with his "business", so she figured it must have had something to do with that. She checked the mail on the way to the door. Once inside, she immediately saw Rhonda butt-ass naked riding Kevin on HER living room sofa!

"Rhonda! Bitch how dare you!” Rhonda jumped up screaming, and ran outside. leaving her clothes and purse sprawled out on the floor. Kevin spent the next four hours pleading for Nina's forgiveness, telling her how the feds had questioned Rhonda and that he "Had to" fuck her or she would tell the police everything. Nina loved him even more after that. She knew in her heart that Rhonda wasn't the prettiest bitch and Kevin wouldn't dare jeopardize their relationship for HER unless he had to. Two days later, Kevin took her away to Vegas and married her.

The day of their honeymoon Nina expressed to Kevin that she wanted him to get a "real job" and stop whatever he was doing to make money.

"Kevin, I'm just not comfortable with all of this, and I think I'm ready to have a baby. After all, I finish school in 6 months."

Kevin looked at Nina and replied simply. "You like all the things I buy you baby girl, don't you? Don't you like being able to buy stuff without having to look at the price tag?" He kissed her passionately and walked toward the door. "I'll be back, Gotta make some phone calls."

Nina loved when he called her "baby girl". It made her heart melt, and her juices flow all at the same time. Nina pushed all of the doubts she had about Kevin to the back of her mind. She knew he loved her, and would do anything he asked of her. Especially now that he was her HUSBAND.

The next six months Kevin kept bringing in the money, while Nina finished school. Immediately after graduation, she landed a job as a Human Resources Rep for the Department of Social Services in D.C. She liked the job, but knew that she wanted to do something that involved helping people. She just wasn’t satisfied babysitting a bunch of angry and bitter county workers for 8 hours a day. She knew though, that this was her foot in the door with Social Services, and reminded herself of that regularly.

Nina began to grow tired of the lifestyle her and Kevin were living. It was as if they had become "roommates", simply sharing a common space. While she worked, he ran the streets "making money". She barely spoke with him during the day, and if she did, it was just for a minute when he would call to "Check in". By the time she got home during the evenings, he was either in the garage with a group of friends smoking and talking about NOTHING, or in the house passed out. She decided that they needed to talk. She was fed up with the way things were going.

"Kevin, I'm sick of living this way. You are never here. You don't pay any attention to me. I'm sick of not knowing what you do, it scares me. I don't care about the money anymore. Please this needs to stop."

Kevin looked at her and decided to comply. "Ok, baby girl. You're right. This hustling thing isn’t working anymore anyway. If you really want me to get out of the streets and be "right", I need you to help me. I'll get a job and maybe even go back to school." Nina grinned from ear to ear. She would do anything to help her man. "Ok baby. What is it? Of course I will help you." Kevin explained to her that he had some "people" who were in the loan business, and all they needed was some information to help get the loans "funded."

Nina was confused. "Kevin, I'm not exactly sure how I can help with that. What does that even have to do with anything?"

Kevin continued telling her that by her having access to EVERYONE'S information in the county, all she needed to do was provide their personal information to him, and he would handle the rest.

"Kevin!!! NO! I could lose my job for that. I will not! Are you crazy?", Nina exclaimed!

Before she could continue with her questions, Kevin covered her mouth with his hand, and motioned for her silence. "Maybe we can work on that baby now." He grabbed her hand and led her to their bedroom. That night, he made love to her like never before.

Nina got to work early the next morning. She wanted to make sure no one was in the office when she arrived. Nina can remember the one time she stole something. It was a blow pop from Woolworth's, and her mother tore her ass up for 2 days following the incident. She was terrified to steal, and her stomach was in knots. She logged in to her computer, and began printing a list of profile information from the database. She filtered through the lists, only selecting the ones that lived in "decent neighborhoods", and had no children. She would rather victimize the ones who had money to pay for a credit clean up, and she would never forgive herself if children were impacted by her foolishness.

That night, she took the list home to Kevin. "Baby Girl, I knew you were down for your man. I love you baby. Just a few more months of this, and we'll be sitting pretty."

Nina couldn’t fathom the thought of reliving the fear and anxiety she felt this morning. "Kevin, I can't keep doing this. Please, you said one time."

Kevin's smile turned to a look of pure disgust. "Listen, if you want to make me happy, do what the fuck I said. Fuck you Nina. You never cared about me. I don't have a family to turn to when I need something like you do. I paid for you to go to school, and gave you everything. Now you do me like this? I’m leaving."

The thought of Kevin leaving Nina, made her sick. Who was going to take care of him? Where would he go? "Ok Kevin. But only a few more times. After that, I'm done."

The next few weeks, Nina continued going in early, and pulling profiles for Kevin, carefully choosing the ones that were "Suitable." Kevin began bringing in so much money it was unreal. Valentines Day, he bought her a 2-carat tennis bracelet, and a matching pair of diamond earrings. A month later, they were signing escrow papers on their dream house. Before Nina knew it, 5 months had passed, and her paychecks now included enough overtime hours to cover one full paycheck. She knew she had to stop, but figured she would continue until Christmas. After all, it was only a month away, and she knew Kevin needed the extra money to give to his mother for the Holidays.

December 12th, Nina woke up early, and arrived at work 45 minutes before her shift started, as she always did. She walked into her office and was surprised to find two men, dressed in suits sitting at her desk. Nina felt nauseous and new something wasn’t right.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Yes, we are with the Washington DC Police Department. Are you Nina Thompson?"

"Yes", Nina replied. "Again, how can I help you?"

"Do you know Kevin Thompson?"

"Yes", Nina replied again.

"He was arrested this morning on suspicion of Identity Theft, and money laundering. He took a deal and advised us that you were providing the information to major loan companies throughout the DC area. You are under arrest. Anything you say or do may be used against you in a court of law...................."

Two days later Nina was sentenced.

"Ms. Thompson, because you have always been an upstanding member of society, I find it more appalling that you would engage in such horrendous acts. You work for an organization that is designed to help and uplift its members. I am disgusted by your actions. Therefore, I am sentencing you to two years in Salinas State Prison for Woman."

Nina spent the first 3 months in a state of severe depression. She tried several times to contact Kevin, but was unsuccessful in her efforts. She lost 15 pounds and had gotten so thin, her parents refused to come see her until she got her "mind right". It was killing her mother to see her in this state, and her father couldn’t afford to miss any more days of work tending to her. It wasn’t until she was served with the divorce papers from Kevin that she realized she needed to get her life together.

She spent the last year of her incarceration reading, and preparing for her "second life".

Immediately upon her release, she moved away to Seattle. Her grandmother always told her to keep a "just in case" stash. That was the one piece of advice she is thankful she adhered to. She enrolled in school, and applied for a job as a Family Therapist at the Department of Social Services in Seattle. She was ecstatic when she received the call for an interview.

"Ms. Thompson, you have a felony, and you are currently on probation? Is that correct?" The interviewer looked old enough to be Nina's mother, but had a softness about her that made Nina comfortable.

"Yes, I do. However, I believe that my journey is what will help those I provide a service to. I have been there. I know what it's about". They spoke for hours, and before Nina left her office, she was offered the job.



Nina was snapped back into reality by a knock on the conference door. Her first family had arrived. A slender, sad looking black woman walked in followed by two teenager girls and a toddler son.

"Hello. You must be Ms. Johnson. Please have a seat." Nina said.

The woman frowned. "I don’t know why in the hell they always give me these stuck up, high sadity counselors who don’t know shit about what I'm going through". "I have lost everything behind a nigga, and I need someone who can help me get over this anger and get back on my feet. I have three damn kids. I damn sure don’t need a bitch like you looking down on me."

Nina smiled. She walked over and placed her hand on Ms. Thompsons shoulder.

"Ms. Thompson, I understand you’re hurt. You know whoever said "Love don’t cost a thing...LIED. And believe it or not, I wasn't always this high sadity bitch you think I am. Let me share something with you before we begin our session."

Nina started from the beginning.

"I was 19 years old when I met the nigga who cost me everything..................."