Part One

“He took my breath and my heart too.” Luby

Chapter 1

I am black, but comely. . .
Song of Songs, 1:5

My life changed the day I walked into the elevator of my apartment building behind a tall young white man, who held a small box of books. I pushed the button, and drew in a sharp breath as my legs as they grew weak with sexual arousal and I realized dampness collecting between them.
I craned my neck and darted a glance at him. His eyes met mine for a split second, a green glint, then an onslaught of desire hit me like a splash of steamy water.
I bit my lower lip to keep from licking it. I wanted to reach out and touch him so much, I curled my right hand into a fist. What was going on?
I never noticed any man in the elevator before. I never wanted to throw any man up against the wall and grind my body against his.
I never looked at another stranger’s face and memorized their features at a glance. His hair was dark brown, a little too long. His face was lean and chiseled, his cheeks covered with stubble. Peaked brows hovered over the greenest eyes I’d ever seen.
Close to his body, he held a box that appeared filled with old books. He stared up at the numbers that flickered at the passing floors.
The aura of sex and passion that almost visibly rolled from his body was overwhelming in this small space. It took all my self control not to hit the button that stopped the elevator and beg him to take me.
Instead, I bit my lower lip between my teeth. So hard, I wouldn’t have been surprised to feel warm blood. He gave me a nervous glance as if he knew exactly the effect he was having. Then he said, “Maybe I should have taken the stairs.”
Saliva trickled down my throat with my gasp of shock. I coughed and sputtered. He steadied me with a touch that made my arousal increase.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” I got the words out with difficulty.
He looked guilty. “My name is Jake Kosevo. I recently moved into the building.”
“Luby Jones,” I mumbled, not able to meet his eyes, because of the thick heat trickling between my legs. “Welcome.”
The elevator doors opened. “This is my floor,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”
He’d started out of the elevator and the box suddenly gave way and books tumbled everywhere. He swore something in a language I didn’t recognize.
I tried not to gasp when I saw the titles of the books. There were words like “magic” and “sorcery” in them, one even said “demonology.” A shiver of fear went through me.
“Will you hold the elevator button for me while I gather these?” he asked.
I stabbed at the open button with a stiff finger while he scrambled to collect his books. I tried hard not to breathe or look at his rear-end. Did I mention that his voice was wonderful, totally masculine, like rough dark silk?
It obviously had been way too long since I’d been with a man.
“Let me help you carry them to your place.” The words tumbled out of my mouth. I almost clapped my hand to my mouth in astonishment. Did I invite myself to the man’s apartment? A man for whom I felt I’d barter with the devil for his touch?
“I appreciate it,” he said.
I stumbled behind him through his door, awkwardly holding awkwardly onto an armful of books whose titles scared me half to death. Apparently fear didn’t affect my sex drive, because my gaze fastened to his rear like it was glued when he bent over to pile the books on the floor.
“I’ll take those,” he said, reaching for the books. His closeness flustered me so much I almost dropped them.
I dragged my gaze from his body and looked around his apartment. He had no furniture and what looked like a sleeping bag lay in the middle of the floor.
“Thanks a lot,” he said.
“It’s okay.” I’d never seen a porn movie in my life, but all the imagined naughty scenarios that ended up with me bare-assed on the floor were flitting through my mind.
Inner alarms rang. “Um, I better get going,” I said, edging toward the door. “Nice to meet you. Welcome to the building.” Then before I could shame myself, I wheeled and fled.
Back at my apartment, I sank to the sofa without kicking off my shoes the way I usually do. My mouth was dry, and dampness was still sticky between my thighs.
The phone rang.
“Luby, can I borrow your car?” Danni asked. “I need to take Allen to a birthday party in an hour.”
“What happened to your car?”
“Marcus took it.”
“You’re joking. You allowed that rusty Negro to take your car when you know you needed to take your son out tonight?” I asked. What was the matter with that girl? She was addicted to a certain type of man and too much of her brain was wired to between her legs. The thought reminded me of Jake.
“I didn’t let Marcus take my car, he took it on his own.”
An idea lit up in my head. There was no way that guy was for me and Danni needed help in the man department in a major way. He’d probably never be attracted to a black woman, and to be frank, he wasn’t what I wanted either. But he’d be perfect for Danni. He definitely had the sex appeal to make her forget about that sorry Marcus.
Danni liked black men and black men only, although she was a petite, pretty blonde with a generous chest and big blue eyes. I know, once you go black, you don�t go back, but it was deeper than that. She had issues and apparently sleeping with black men helped.
Most white girls like that were subconscious racist bitches wanting only to degrade themselves, but I’d known Danni long enough to see she didn’t have a bigoted bone in her body. Once I’d suggested therapy and she went off on me.
But it wasn’t that she liked the brothers that bothered me; it was the sort of brother she went for. Danni always ended up with thugs, dangerous thugs.
She’d get her heart beaten down, her apartment ripped off, and niggas hanging around who knew to the minute when her paycheck was coming.
Danni needed help. I had to figure out a way to hook her up with Jake.
“I have a guy I want you to meet,” I said.
“Marcus and I�”�
“Are a train wreck. C’mon, this guy is fine.” Danni had a thing for luscious babes and the babe on the elevator was as luscious as they come.
“Mmmmm, what�s his build?”
“Just how you like ‘em, tall and built, but lean.”
“Is he light or dark-skinned?”
There it was. Danni wasn�t asking if he were white or black, she was asking about skin tone. She assumed I’d hook her up with a brother. I knew she�d have a fit once she saw Jake was white, because she had let me know several times that she was a woman of definite tastes.
I took the cowardly way out. “He�s light skinned,” I said.
“Okay, when, where and how?” Danni asked with a sigh of resignation.
“I’m not sure yet, but when I do, you’ll promise to meet him?”
“Sure,” she said, relief in her voice.
“C’mon and get the car keys then.”
“Thanks, Luby. You’re the best friend ever.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I didn’t want to dwell on how much of my motivation to fix Danni up was because I wanted to have a reason to see Jake again.
I hung up the phone feeling uneasy. I wasn’t tripping over that guy, was I? My grandmother didn’t raise that kind of fool.
I was restless inside. Dissatisfied. Maybe we’re creatures with finite timetables after all, and Grandma was right about mine running out.
I was twenty-six years old and I’d been out of law school for two years. I believed that my job, my friends, the church, Grandma, and the occasional date were enough. Like a lot of other people I knew, I thought Mr. Right was out there, and he’d find me eventually. I’d never felt the keen edge of need for a man before. Maybe it was past time.
I reached out and picked up the newspaper from the couch. I turned the pages, unseeing, while I considered my options.
I went to church every Sunday, was active in the choir and the woman’s group, and traveled to fellowship with other churches whenever I had the opportunity.
The good Christian man I’d hoped for never materialized. I wanted a professional, educated man, but most important, I wanted a man with Christian principles. I wanted a man who was a pillar of the church and his community. A strong black man whom I could lean on and trust.
But there were a whole lot of sisters like me, looking for exactly the same brother.

I needed my yellow silk shirt to go with the navy blue suit I wanted to wear to work tomorrow. I’d lent it to Cat and she never gives anything back.
I knocked on the door, and Cat opened it, putting her finger to her lips so I’d be quiet. Her husband Darryl was asleep on the couch in front of the television with ESPN on. A fine line of saliva ran from his mouth and down his chin.
She motioned me into the kitchen. I’d known both Danni and Cat for the six years we’d all lived in the building. We paid primo rent in one of these high rises near the Plaza, but for me, it was worth it. I thought the area was one of the best things about Kansas City.
Folks often mistook Cat and I for sisters because we’re both small, exactly the same height and frame, but Cat was slimmer. She said she wished she had my tits and ass, and sometimes I wished I had her size four.
Cat has slanty hazel eyes that were a legacy from some unknown white folks, along with light golden skin. She’d told me her natural hair was kinky and short, burned off by relaxers, but her weave was a fabulous one, her hair straight, long, black and shiny.
Her full name was Catherine Maria Bronson-Harris, a kindness compared to my Lubaleen Uniquoncie Jones. My mother must have hated me at birth.
Cat opened the refrigerator door and put a cold beer in my hand. “There was this babe in the hallway,” she said. “He was so hot, it was fuckin� incredible. My panties are still damp.”
“Jake, right?” I said.
“You know him?”
“I met him in the elevator the other day. He�s . . . quite amazing.”
“He was lucky I didn�t rape him on the spot,” Cat said.
“Me too,” I said, staring off into the distance.
Cat choked on her beer. “What did you say?”
I laughed, tickled. Cat thought I was such a goody-two-shoes. “I said, me too.”
“Damn, girl, what is with that guy?” Cat asked. “I’ve seen good-looking guys before, but shit.”
“I was thinking he�d be perfect for Danni,” I said.
Cat’s eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t like white guys.”
“She doesn’t like her yearly pelvic either but it’s good for her too. You know she should be doing better.”
“Shouldn’t we all?” Cat said, taking a sip of beer.
“You have to admit, Danni’s pathetic. A pretty, slim white girl, living the same hell as a hefty sista.”
Cat laughed. “Could be poetic justice.”
“Nah, we should save her from her own silly self.”
“And a fine white boy is going to do it?” Cat asked.
“It’s a start,” I said.
“How are we going to set them up?”
“I’m not sure.”
Cat shook her head. “You’re all talk and no action.”
Cat got out a skillet, set it on the stove and opened the refrigerator. I settled back on the stool and sipped my beer, enjoying the company. I was in no rush to collect my shirt.
“Fuck!” Cat suddenly yelled.
I flinched. “What’s wrong with you?” I asked her.
She glared into the refrigerator. “The hamburger I put in the refrigerator to thaw this morning is gone. Goddamn. Darryl!”
“Darryl!” she yelled again, an octave higher.
“What is it?” His voice was sleepy and irritated, but not nearly as irritated as Cat.
“What did you do with the hamburger in the refrigerator?”
“Uh, I was hungry.”
Cat slammed the refrigerator door shut. I stood up, figuring it was time I headed home. She stalked into the living room. I decided to stay in the kitchen until the worst of it blew over.
“You ate a whole pound of hamburger? What the fuck is wrong with you? I was planning on making spaghetti for dinner.”
“Cook something else.”
“Everything else is frozen. Looks like you�re going to be taking me out to eat.”
“I�m tired, Cat.”
“Doing what? You ain�t done shit all day.”
Darryl was a firefighter. He worked one day on, where he was at the station for twenty-four hours, and two days off. Cat worked nine to five as a copy writer in a company that put out trade magazines by the dozen. She didn’t like her job much.
“Motherfucker, you were home all day, so why didn’t you get off your lazy ass and clean the house and cook dinner?” Cat screamed.
I guessed now rather than later would be a good time to leave.
“Bitch, please,” Darryl said.
Oh no, he didn’t say that. I darted toward the door, and closed it behind me before the hell I knew was coming broke out. They didn’t even notice me in the heat of their battle. I’d call Cat later and ask her to bring my shirt. The more I looked at Cat and Darryl, the more it looked as if the state of marriage was way overrated.

I trekked down to the laundry room late Friday night. It was a time when I could usually count on it being empty. I could also usually count on my not having a date.
I felt his presence before I saw him. I know that sounds corny, but it was true. Jake crouched on the floor, struggling to open a gigantic box of Tide.
Dammit, I wanted to rip that white boy�s pants clean off. What was going on with me?

Chapter 2

Draw me, we will run after thee. . .
Song of Songs, 1:4

I loaded my clothes in the dryer and tried to look at him out of the corner of my eye without turning my head. There was a foreign air about him, along with something soulful and melancholy in his light eyes. I could tell he had secrets.
I inhaled and let it out slow. Dang, he was fine. “Hi. Need some help with that big box of detergent?” I asked.
He looked up and smiled at me. I damn near fainted. “Luby,” he said. “Good to see you again.”
He remembered my name. He stood and my skin started burning along with everything else down there. I thought I was the type to need some direct action to go with visuals before I could get turned on to this extent. But merely being in the same room with this man was setting me on fire.
“I think I’ve got it,” he said as he found the tag that allowed him to rip the box top open. “Do you think liquid is better than powder?” he asked.
“I always use liquid, mainly because it�s easier to carry.” I twirled my hair with my index finger. My hormones had moved in and taken over my brain completely.
“Choice of detergent must be habit. We always used powder back home,” he said.
“You recently moved here?” I asked.
“Yeah. I came in from out of state.”
I retreated to the far end of the small laundry room and started throwing my clothes into a washer. Jake overwhelmed me. He looked cosmopolitan and sophisticated, despite his scruffy dress. He probably moved from New York or somewhere like that. “Where are you from?” I asked.
“Montana. My family has a ranch there.”
My eyebrows shot up. Montana? A rural type? Unbelievable. He looked dark, lean, foreign and intense. He was the dead opposite of sunny, corn-fed and content Montana ranchers I�d imagined, or even a dark and dangerous cowboy type.
There was something sophisticated and world-weary about him. He had eyes that looked as if they’d seen all. There was sadness about him that gave him a devastating little boy charm. Can I take care of you, baby? I’ll make you happy.
I twisted my mind away from my musing and lascivious thoughts and searched for witty repartee. “So what brings you to Kansas City? Your job?” I asked, the witty repartee part of my brain failing miserably.
“I needed a change.”
I waited but that was all he was going to say.
He glanced at me and I swallowed hard. Moistening my lips, I summoned my courage to ask him. “I’m having a few friends over for dinner tomorrow. Why don’t you drop by and meet some of your neighbors?”
There. I did it.
He smiled like the sun rising between my thighs. “I’d like that,” he said.
“Is 7:30 all right? I’m in apartment 512.”
“It�s fine.”
“Well, see you then. I better go.” I wheeled and fled as if a pack of demon hounds were behind me, leaving my clothes abandoned in the washer.
I’d get them later. Way later. Maybe tomorrow.

I always went to Grandma’s on Saturday morning and took her shopping. She still lived in the same house I grew up in, with white siding and a small yard that we kept filled with flowers in the spring and summer. I loved coming home on Saturdays to my good childhood memories.
But as soon as I walked into the house that morning, Grandma reminded me of a particularly bad memory. “I heard from your mother,” she said.
I frowned. “What’s the matter?”
“The home says she needs some more underwear and nightgowns. We’ll pick some up when we’re out and run by to drop them off.”
I didn’t say anything, but a little tremor ran through me. I hated going to see my mother and my grandmother knew it. There must be a reason she was making me take her instead of going during the week as she usually did.
“You want some pie?”
“That sounds wonderful.”
A few minutes, I settled at the old kitchen table with cherry pie and milk.
Grandma sat across from me.
“I should have had this talk with you a while ago,” she said.
I was alarmed. Those were the same words she used to open the birds and bees talk years ago.
“In several months you’ll be twenty-seven, nine times three. It’s a sacred number”
“Uh-huh.”
She sighed and played with her fork. “That was the age when your mother changed.” She paused. “When I changed.”
“Grandma, what is your point? Changed how?” I didn’t mean to be impatient, but dang.
“For you, I’m not sure.”
My alarm increased. Maybe grandma was getting Alzheimer’s disease. She’d been complaining about how forgetful she was getting.
“For me, I started knowing about things. Things that were going to happen, baby.”
My heart started to pound. Grandma, no.
“Your mother heard the dead. It was too much for her, tipped her totally over the edge. My baby’s head never had been screwed on that tight anyway,” she muttered.
Well, insanity ran in the family, I thought with dread, thinking about my mother.
“You’re looking at me like I’m crazy. I knew you would,” Grandma said. “But when you turn twenty-seven, everything changes. I can’t explain how, but I thought you should know. Prepare yourself.”
She looked out the picture window that spilled buttery morning sun and peered at the luxurious flower beds we’d planted together. “They called your great-grandmother a witch. She healed people with herbs for a fee. But she told me once that the herbs were for show, that she didn’t need them.”
She focused on my face and smiled. “Finish your pie. The world isn’t coming to an end. There’s a sale at Sears.”
I lifted my fork. A lot of families have weird legends. That’s what it was. I have a crazy mother. It would be mighty hard if my grandmother went crazy too, but I’d deal with it, because unlike my mother, I knew that Grandma loved me.

Grandma bought what she needed from Sears, and wanted to go straight to see my mother, Lily. I drove her there and started to pull a book out of my purse as Grandma climbed out of the front seat. It was hot as hell out here, but I’d wait. I hated going in there, it felt like a warehouse of empty bodies. It was laid out like a nursing home, but instead of the elderly, it housed people too crazy to fend for themselves.
“Aren’t you coming in?” Grandma asked.
“I’ll wait.”
“You need to come in today,” she said.
I bit my lip and my hand tightened on my book.
“You need to come in, now,” Grandma said again. She had that familiar look on her face that told me she wasn’t taking no for an answer and she wasn’t taking any crap or backtalk either.
I got out of the car.
We walked into the dingy room my mother shared with another woman. She was alone, staring at the television. Grandma would have kept Lily at home, but when I was a child Lily threw herself through the picture window, and did other things my grandmother wouldn’t speak of.
“Lily,” Grandma said, sitting beside her. “We brought you the things you need.”
Mother sat up with a quick motion, still lithe. She gave a nod in my direction, but wouldn’t look at me.
“Good,” she said.
The medications made her eyes dull and vacant, as if her soul had vacated. Her lips moved constantly, as if speaking to unseen companions.
My skin crawled. Grandma believed my mother actually talked to the dead? That they were here, surrounding her?
That thought led to places I didn’t want to go. Too much craziness, too much pain.
Grandma sat on the bed beside her daughter.
“I’m going to go and talk to the nurse,” I said.
“Stay,” Grandma said. I tightened my lips and sank into a chair on the other side of the room, while Grandma drew each item from the shopping bag in turn and showed it to Lily.
I was happy that my mother didn’t look at me, because ever since I could remember, my mother looked at me with hatred in her eyes.
I was told that after my mother became pregnant; my father disappeared and she never saw him again. It was a vague, unsatisfying story, but all that Grandma offered me.
Grandma did try to explain my mother’s antipathy toward me. She said my mother hated her body swelling with pregnancy, hating the little parasite that latched on to her, feeding, needing. Grandma said Lily hated my father and hated me because I looked like him, walked like him, talked like him and even smelled like him.
I couldn’t understand my mother’s hatred of me as a child. Plenty of my friends had no-good fathers, but their mothers didn’t hate them. Didn’t my mother realize that it wasn’t my fault that I looked like him? I would have looked like Lily if I could because there are few things harder for a child to endure than their mother’s hatred.
Grandma was my shield, my sheltering rock. When Lily was sent away, all I felt was relief.
Grandma cried when Lily left. I know she felt bad that she couldn’t save her daughter, but she saved me. Wasn’t that enough?
I grew up, but my mother’s hatred remained, sane or not. What fault it was it of mine who she chose to spread her legs for before I was born?
My mother’s hatred burned a hole into me, and any love that I could have felt for her fell into it, gone into the void. Grandma told me to ask the Lord to give me the strength to accept what I couldn’t change.
“They told me that the little bitch met him,” Lily said to Grandma. I flinched, startled. Little bitch was her favorite word to describe me. But she hadn’t referred to me directly in years. Who did she mean by “him?”
Grandma said nothing and didn’t look at me.
“You wanted to fuck him, didn’t you, little bitch?” Lily asked. My God, was she speaking about Jake. No. She couldn’t be.
“And you will. Be careful, little bitch, because it’ll be the death of you.” She sniffed, her mouth moving, her eyes fastened on something I couldn’t see.
I stood, feeling tiny hairs rise on the back of my arms. Grandma still looked down on the faded coverlet, but then she nodded as if in agreement.
I couldn’t take an instant more. I turned and fled from the room.
I stood outside taking deep gulps of air, downwind of the residents who smoked one cigarette after another, taking deep gulps of air. A few minutes later, my pounding pulses stilled, I moved to the car.
It was like a furnace. I rolled down the windows and turned the ignition, flipping the AC up to full blast.
She couldn’t be talking about Jake. It was impossible. But I’d never met any man before who moved me so strongly. You wanted to fuck him, didn’t you, little bitch? I did. Yes, Lily. . . mother, I did.
The air cooled and I rolled up my windows, locked the doors and leaned my forehead against the steering wheel, and waited. She hears dead people, Grandma said. I know about things. Things that are going to happen, baby.
I could deal with a lot. I considered myself a strong woman. But this was outside my ken. Madness ran in the family, and I didn’t have much family to lose. Tears stung my eyes. At twenty-seven was I going to turn stark raving bonkers? Was that it?
It was an hour later when Grandma tapped on the car window, looking tired and older, as if her daughter had drained her of years.
I unlocked the door and she got in heavily. When I pulled away, she said, “Luby, if you keep love in your heart, you’ll never turn out like your mother.”
Was that the message she’d been trying to give me? I’d decided in those long minutes while I waited that losing my marbles wasn’t a possibility. I was rooted in reality, and in reality was where I’d stay. I murmured something unintelligible. It must have satisfied her, because she let the topic go.

Chapter 3

Let my beloved come into his garden . . .
Song of Songs, 4:16

I called in five pizzas from Grandma’s for carryout and picked them up on the way home along with plenty of six packs of ice-cold beer. I’d add a salad as a token toward veggies and health that everyone would ignore and we were good to go for my little get-together.
My stomach was churning with anticipation. I was going to see Jake, up close and personal. I needed to chill out. He wasn’t for me. I wasn’t his type and he wasn’t mine, but he was the answer to Danni’s prayers even if she didn’t know it yet.
I had to make three trips to get all the food and drinks up to my apartment. Cat once told me that she pegged me to be the type to have everything in my place covered in plastic, curtains with tiny floral patterns and ornate Victorian furniture.
No way. I’d filled my entire apartment with plants and they gave off a fresh green odor. My walls were covered with African masks and on the floor were piles of bright pillows covered with gauzy Indian fabric with sparkly threads and shiny bits of mirror and gilt. I like simple, soft and overstuffed furniture in bright colors too. Everybody commented how my apartment was so unlike me, but they couldn’t be more wrong. My apartment was who I really was.
There was a rap on the door. “Lemme in,” Cat said.
“It’s open.”
Cat bounced in and looked around. “What’s cooking?”
Then she spied the pizza on the coffee table. “Men like pizza. That’ll work.”
“You’re right in time to help me make the salad,” I said.
“But you said that you had a one-ass kitchen, and I should keep my ass out of it while you’re in it.”
I laughed. “It is a one-ass kitchen, but get yours in there and make a spinach salad because I need to shower and change. Boiled eggs are in the fridge. Put lots of mushrooms in it, okay?”
“What if Jake doesn’t like mushrooms?”
“Then I assume he won’t eat the salad. We love mushrooms.” I wasn’t about to make such sacrifices even for the sexiest man I’d ever laid eyes on in my life.
I went into my bedroom and took off my shorts. I dug around in my underwear drawer until I found the thong I’d bought, but never had the nerve to wear and laid it out on the bed with a short denim skirt and a matching halter on the bed. Carefully putting my shower cap on so my pressed hair wouldn’t get wet and frizz, I adjusted the water temperature, then sighed in satisfaction as I climbed in.
My strange sexual attraction to Jake had to be hormone fluctuations. Maybe time of the month weirdness. It was nothing to worry about. Things would go great tonight. Cat’s husband was coming later. I asked Winston from the office too. Winston was handsome and good company, and gay as Sponge Bob.
It would obvious that Jake was partnered with Danni. I’d reminded her of her promise to get her to say she’d show this evening, but her word was good. Our mutual neighbor, Mrs. Thompson, said Danni had asked her baby-sit this evening.
I was feeling almost saintly about my crusade to help Danni. She was raised middle-class in upscale Johnson county suburbs and wasn�t drugged or thugged out, so it was a mystery why she put up with the crap.
A single parent of an eight-year old biracial son, she worked long hours on her feet as a LPN. Danni had a far harder life than a pretty white girl should have.
I heard Cat talking, and I turned off the shower. It must be Danni. I dried off and smoothed lotion into my skin.
“What�s wrong?” Cat asked Danni.
“Marcus took my car,” she said.
I rolled my eyes. Again?
“You let that fool drive your car?” Cat asked.
“He took my keys.”
I shook my head as I drew on my underwear. The girl was hopeless.
I heard a tap at the door. I pulled my halter top on. “Come on in,” I said.
Danni and Cat both came in and sat on the bed. I moved to the dresser and picked up my blush, my back to them.
“Did you call the police?” I asked Danni.
“Please. Marcus will be back,” she said.
“Danni, he stole your car. You got a kid and you can�t do without a car. What if he doesn�t come back?”
“He�ll be back,” she repeated. “Tomorrow’s Saturday, so I�ll be all right.” She glanced at my reflection in my dresser mirror. “He�s on probation. If I call the police, they�ll throw him in jail.”
“So? It seems like that�s where his ass needs to be,” Cat said.
Danni sighed and flopped back on the bed.
Lord.
“Who else is coming?” Danni asked.
“Winston, Darryl, and this new guy who moved into the building.”
“Couples. This guy better be decent or I’m kicking your ass.”
Danni wasn�t dumb. Her problem was that she thought with her cooch, instead of her brain cells.
“Like you don�t need somebody else after that worthless SOB stole your car?” Cat said.
“You�ve seen this guy?” Danni asked her.
Cat darted a glance at me. “I saw him once.”
“So, what�s he look like?”
Cat hesitated. “He looks damn good,” she answered.
I finished with my mascara and stepped back to study the results.
“You look great,” Cat said. “You’re really much prettier than me.”
“I’d kill for your skin,” Danni added.
Cat and I both laughed simultaneously. “Nope, Danni, you don’t need to add to your problems.”
“You two look good. Luby, I haven’t seen you show so much thigh since forever. This guy that moved in must be something else,” Danni said.
She was telling no lie, I thought. The intercom buzzed and I rushed to it, glad not to have to answer her.
“I’m hungry, girlfriend, let me up,” Winston said.
I buzzed him in. There was a knock on the door as soon as I stepped away from the intercom.
I pulled open the door and my stomach flipped as I looked into Jake’s glittering green eyes.
I licked my lips and wished they were his. “Welcome,” I said, standing aside.
His smile reached down so deep, I realized with dismay that if my irrational sexual response to him was my hormones, they were still way out of whack.
“Don’t shut the door on me, girl,” Winston said from behind Jake.
“Can I get you a Heineken?” I asked Jake, needing to leave the room, to get away from him if only for a moment so I could pull myself together.
“That would be great.”
“Did you forget my existence, Ms. It?” Winston asked querulously, sounding gay as hell.
“No, Winston, dear. I’ll get you a beer too.”
“That’s more like it,” he said. “And who is this?” Winston asked. I swear he batted his eyelids at the man.
“Winston James, this is Jake�uh. . . ” My mind went blank and his last name skittered away
“Jacob Kosevo,” he said, proffering his hand to Winston. “Everybody calls me Jake.”
Winston perked up, and held Jake’s hand a moment to long. I noticed his eyes drop to the bulge in Jake’s jeans. Winston’s such a slut.
“Jake this is my friend Cat, her husband Darryl should be here shortly.”
Cat actually fluttered her hands as she mumbled something unintelligible. I noticed that she couldn’t meet Jake’s eyes.
I turned to Danni. Danni was obviously in shock, with flags of red at her cheeks and her eyes bright. “Jake, this is Danielle Sellers, but we call her Danni.” I turned away from her, bitch that I’ve become. “Help me with the beer won’t you?” I purred to Jake.
“No, I will.” Danni found her voice and dragged me into the kitchen. I was almost relieved to be saved from my awry hormones. Almost.
“Sheesh,” Danni said. “Sheesh. He’s so beautiful. I think I want to marry him. Is he a god down from Olympus?”
I shook my head no, but I couldn’t bring myself to disagree, because the man was a serious hottie. I’d never thought in a million years I’d be in danger of losing my mind over a white guy. “Pull yourself together and go out there and do your best to impress,” I said, eyeing her blonde hair and blue eyes with momentary envy. But some things were for the best, I mentally kicked myself.
“I need to ask you something,” Danni asked.
I leaned against the counter feeling nervous at the seriousness of Danni’s tone. “Luby, I figured you were setting me up with a white guy.” Danni frowned. “Be honest. Are you one of those who think the races should never mingle?”
I sighed. Was that all she was going to say? I thought she was going to go off on me. “I don�t have anything against interracial relationships,” I said. “But to be frank, I don’t think you should mingle. You scrape the bottom of the barrel, girl. If you were dating classy black guys who treat you well, that would be one thing. What you do is another. Maybe you should try out a different sort of man.”
She shook her head. “I’ve been mingling since I was sixteen when I gave it up to the fine basketball player after the prom.” She made a slight grimace. “I must say I was disappointed. I’d heard so much about black men. But thank God, since then I’ve had far better.”
I swear Danni cracked me up.
The phone rang. “Get out there and do the hostess thing for me,” I said to Danni before I picked up.
“Luby? This is Darryl. Uh, can I speak to Cat? Never mind, Luby, hold up. Just tell her I can’t come. I’m sorry, but something came up, aw’raht?”
I hung up shaking my head. “Cat, c’mere,” I called. She walked into the kitchen, hands on hips, chin thrust out. “Darryl?” she asked.
“He said he can’t make it.”
Cat’s eyes narrowed and she headed straight to phone. I thought it wise to decamp, and sure enough, a few seconds later, I heard her raised, angry voice. It didn’t sound as if she were sweet talking Darryl into coming.
Jake was looking through my DVDs and everybody else was looking at Jake.
“Help yourself to the pizza,” I said. “There’s napkins and paper plates on the dining room table. Danni, could you put on a DVD or some music or something? Maybe there’s something Jake wants to hear. I’m going to check on Cat.”
I moved quickly to the kitchen. It was way too quiet, and quiet wasn’t natural for Cat.
Cat was leaning with her face against the wall. I touched her shoulder. “Can I help?”
“You wanna kill Darryl for me?” She laughed, a sound so bitter it was scary. “I swear I can’t stand Darryl most of the time.”
My pulses quickened. Cat was rarely this open. Worse, she looked depressed on top of upset. That wasn’t like her, either. Her husband was fine, kept a good job and stayed at home nights. Lord, if that weren’t enough, what was?
“Danni’s one lucky bitch,” she said. “I’d like to fuck that white boy until he loses his mind.”
I raised an eyebrow. What a change of subject. That was more like her.
“Don’t worry, I’m won’t,” she added.
“He may not like her,” I said.
“White boys always like her. She’s gorgeous, and she’s skinny with big tits.”
I nodded. Danni had confided that her parents paid for her boob job for a sweet sixteen gift.
“She’s a short, blonde Barbie,” Cat said.
Yeah, white guys tended to go gonzo over Danni right up to the time they met Allen, her biracial son. Most white guys I’d heard of, seen, or met were straight up bigots although they’d bite their own tongues off before admitting it.
I’d also seen how people looked at Danni when we were out with Allen, who despite his brown skin, strongly resembled his mother. When Danni was with Allen, she wasn’t white any more. Many of them looked and treated her with the same contempt that they had for me or Cat.
A fusillade of hard raps sounded at my front door. “That must be Darryl. Maybe he changed his mind,” I said.
Cat shook her head. “He’s not coming.”
I hurried out of the kitchen and faced the worse case scenario. It was Danni’s boyfriend, Marcus. He looked freaked out, his eyes wide and agitated.
“I need to talk to you right now,” Marcus said to Danni, his voice urgent and high-pitched. “It’s about the car.”
“What about the car?” she asked. “I know you didn’t do anything to my car.”
He didn’t answer right away.
“Arrrgh,” she yelled and ran to my bedroom, slamming the door behind her. I heard my lock click.
Marcus followed her, banging on the door, then shaking the doorknob. “C’mon, woman, we’re going home,” he said.
“What did you do to Danni’s car?” I asked.
“I didn’t do anything to it. It was impounded.”
“Get your ass on then, and let’s go and get it,” Cat said.
“You can’t.”
“Why the fuck not?” Cat demanded.
“You better have a good reason why we can’t take the registration, pay the fine, and get Danni’s car,” I said. This piece of man was a joke.
“They’re holding it for evidence,” Marcus said, his voice so low I had to strain to hear.
“What did you do, boy?” Cat snapped.
“I didn’t do a damn thing. And don’t call me boy, bitch�”
“What happened?” Intervention was needed and quickly before Cat went off on Marcus calling her a bitch, sending the situation from bad to worse.
“This chick needed to use it and she got busted . . .” Marcus said.
A collective groan went up.
“You let some other chickenhead skank take Danni’s car?” I couldn’t believe it.
“I bet he was fucking her too,” Winston added helpfully.
“What is she charged with?” Jake cut in.
“Possession and�” Marcus paused. “Here’s the deal,” he said. “Shellay was turning a trick, and this peckerwood, some fat cat white dude got offed right there inside the car. This nigger just ran up and capped him, so Danni ain’t getting that car back anytime soon.”
“You sorry son of a bitch!” Cat said, looking around as if she wanted to put her hands on something to cut Marcus. Oh, Lawd.
“Get out,” Jake said to Marcus, his voice quiet, but seeming to echo through the room.
My knees weakened in relief because I really didn’t want a bad rep with the neighbors over the police coming out to my apartment on a Saturday night.
“Who the fuck are you?” Marcus said, looking Jake up and down.
“It doesn’t matter who I am. Get out.” There was an undercurrent of danger in Jake’s voice that turned me on even more, if such a thing is possible.
Then Danni opened the bedroom door and ran into the living room. “It’s okay, Marcus, I’m going with you.”
I rolled my eyes and protest broke out, everybody talking at once.
“No, you’re not,” Jake said. “I told him to get out and that’s what he’s going to do.”