Going Broke Read online

  “Actually, I prefer collard greens, macaroni and cheese, and potato salad, but you were busy.” He smiled. “I’d also prefer not to get my skull cracked by your man for talking to you.”

  “He’s gone.” I laughed. “You have nothing to worry about.”

  He extended his hand. “I’m Tremel.”

  “Hi.” I placed my hand in his, and he squeezed it gently. “I’m Sarai.”

  “Pretty name. It suits you well.” He was still holding my hand. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

  I eased my fingers from his sweet grip. “So what’s with the Phantom of the Opera thing you have going on?”

  “I picked it up at the last minute.” He seemed a bit shy about it.

  “The phantom was hiding something serious behind his mask. What are you hiding?”

  “Aren’t we all hiding?” He touched my mask. “But what was the guy in the opera hiding?”

  I checked my watch and jumped from the stool. “I’ll tell you in a few.” It was twelve o’clock, and I needed to get things moving. “I have to go and wrap things up.”

  “No problem.”

  I issued the prizes for the games. The woman with thirty-two beads won the top prize, a $100 gift certificate to Burdines-Macy’s. I didn’t know what she did to collect all those beads, but she sure had all the men clapping and carrying on when she won.

  All in all, the party was great. Although it was almost over, I got the crowd together to sing “Happy Birthday” to Nat. Then came the part I couldn’t wait for—taking off the masks. We had only an hour left in the room, so Natalya and I hurriedly sliced and served the red velvet birthday cake.

  “So where is that phantom guy you were talking about?”

  I had forgotten about him. I looked around, but he wasn’t in sight. “I don’t see him.” I joked, “He must’ve been too ugly to stick around after taking off that mask.”

  “You’re stupid, girl.”

  “He said that his name was Tremel or something like that.”

  “Are you talking about Mel?” She stopped slicing.

  “Tremel Colten?”

  “I don’t know.” I was afraid about what she might say about him. “I don’t know his last name.”

  She laughed. “I didn’t think that he would come.”

  I was curious. “Well, who is he?” I bit my bottom lip.

  She smiled. “We work together.”

  “He’s a teacher?” A man with an education, looks, and a tad bit of street in him—just my type. “What does he teach?”

  “Cleanliness.” She laughed.

  I was confused. “Cleanliness? A male home economics teacher?—Is he gay?”

  “He’s a janitor.”

  “A what?”

  “A janitor.” She continued, “Tremel is a sweet guy. I didn’t think he’d show up.”

  “He’s a janitor?” I was still in shock. I wanted to shout, “Shit!”

  “Yes. Everyone can’t be a big-time architect.”

  “True.” I frowned. “But everyone can’t be a damn janitor either.”

  Nick strolled over and volunteered to help with the cake.

  “I’ll pick up the locks.” I grabbed the backpack we brought them in.

  As the crowd dwindled, I picked up the locks that had fallen to the ground, ones on the table and on the bar, and shook my tail feather with Nelly and P. Diddy. I didn’t mind staying to help with the cleaning. The later I got home, the better the chances were of Damian being there.

  “Need help?”

  “I’m all right.” I didn’t even bother turning around.

  “Well, you can at least thank me for offering.”

  I turned around and was in front of the unmasked Tremel. The first thing that came to me were the words to India Arie’s song, “Brown Skin.” Apparently, your skin has been kissed by the sun. Not only was he brassy brown, so were his eyes. His skin looked softer than a swab of cotton, and those lips . . . Lord, those lips. You make me wanna Hershey’s kiss your licorice. He was more handsome than I expected. I was lost for a moment, until a second wind hit me, whispering, Janitor.

  “Thank you for your offer.” I looked away. “But I think I can handle it.”

  He said, “I think that I can handle it too.”

  Of course he could handle picking up things. It’s what he does, and he should be good at it.

  He took the bag from me. “At least let me take a load off.”

  I guess he wasn’t going away. “Thanks.” I continued gathering the locks and threw them into the bag without too much to say.

  When we reached the back of the room and were clearly out of locks, I was glad. “Well, thanks so much for your help.” I tried to smile.

  “Anytime,” he said, handing me the bag. “Would you mind having another drink with me?”

  “I really shouldn’t have any more. I have to drive,” I said as an excuse.

  Tremel would be to me what Nick was to Nat—just a tease. A man without a promising career couldn’t do anything for me. I had bills to pay; plus I already had a man.

  “Thanks for the offer.” I smiled and walked away.

  “By the way, what was the phantom hiding?” he asked.

  I turned back toward him slowly. “Well, he was disfigured and didn’t have anything going for himself, so he had to pretend.”

  He smiled. “Well, I’m nothing like that.”

  “Is that right?” I really wanted to say, “Yeah, right.”

  He smiled. “Come on, have a drink with me.”

  “Really, I can’t.” I kept walking. He was probably only offering because it was free.

  “Well, is there a number where I can reach you?”

  I decided to be a smart-ass. “Do you have a business card?”

  He looked embarrassed. “No.”

  “Well, maybe we’ll see each other around.”

  He looked me up and down and finally read what I meant. “Maybe.”

  “I’m living so far beyond my income that we may

  almost be said to be living apart.”

  —E. E. Cummings

  Bank Statement # 3

  Account Balance: $22,527.92

  “I should tear this check up,” India said.

  “You better not.”

  It took me a couple of days to build up the financial nerves to write the check out to India. I mailed it instead of going through with the nonchalant, yet malicious, hand delivery I had planned.

  “If you tear it up, then I’ll just send you cash.” I pressed the phone against my ear with my shoulder and threw my toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, and mouthwash into my makeup case.

  “I’ll tear that up too,” she said. “You didn’t have to give me the money back.”

  Running from the bathroom back into my bedroom, I positioned the bag into the suitcase and zipped it close. “It wasn’t mine to start with.”

  “You know what’s mine is yours.” She giggled. “Because what’s yours is mine, right?”

  “I guess.” I was just talking for her to hear. I wouldn’t trust her with a pet rock if I had one.

  “So what time is your flight?” she asked.

  “In an hour and a half.” I looked at the clock. “I should’ve been at the airport already.”

  “What time is the concert?”

  “I think it starts at eight.” I grabbed my suitcase, purse, and keys and headed out the door. “My plane makes it to Orlando at six. All I’ll have time to do is pick up the rental car and head to the site. I won’t even be able to check into my hotel until after the concert and interview.”

  “When do you come back?”

  I boarded the elevator. “Tomorrow night.”

  I really didn’t want to go, but in order for me to move into a better spot at the station, I had to bite the bullet and do what other people didn’t want to do. A new country artist was debuting in Orlando, but Garth Brooks was performing in Miami the same night. Instead of being invited to the American Airlines
Arena for the GB concert, I was taking an American Airlines flight to Orlando to interview a no-name crooner.

  “My flight gets in around six or something.”

  “Why didn’t they just rent you a car to drive from here to there? It’s only a little over a three-hour drive.”

  “Who?” I rolled my eyes. “I’m not driving to Orlando, unless I’m going to Disney World. If I’m going to a country-ass concert, I don’t want a three-hour drive ahead of me. I’m liable to turn my black ass around or miss the exit and take the highway all the way to ATL,” I joked.

  “Well, have a safe trip. The weather is looking a li’l crazy, though.”

  “I didn’t even look at the Weather Channel.” I sighed. “What’s going on?”

  “Well, it’s not raining here, but there is a little system moving north.”

  “Damn.” I hated flying. “That’s all I need.”

  “Well, I’m not going to cash this check just yet,” India said. “You might need it back.”

  I couldn’t believe her. “Fuck you, India,” I said jokingly, though I really meant it.

  “No. I’m fucking with you.” She giggled again. “Call me when you get in. Let’s have drinks.”

  “I will.” I hung up and raced through the parking garage to find my car.

  By the time I made it to the American Airlines gate, the passengers were boarding. I was last in line, but I had a first-class seat. I would never pay for a flight from Miami to Orlando on my own. It seemed as if as soon as we hit cruising altitude, the pilot announced that we were preparing for landing. The flight couldn’t have been longer than an hour. The only problem was the tremulous turbulence due to the storm hovering over the area.

  When the plane landed, I was one of the first people off. Being a Budget FastBreak customer got me in and out of the car rental office in five minutes.

  The sky was the darkest shade of gray I’d ever seen, without becoming black. Not only was it raining, there was hail and talk of tornadoes in surrounding towns.

  When I learned that the concert was supposed to be an outside event, I pretty much knew that it was off. I made a few phone calls and learned that I was right. The show was off and not being rescheduled. The artist was already heading to Georgia for his performance the next day, so I couldn’t even do the interview.

  Without an umbrella, I sat in the parking lot of the Marriott hotel for twenty minutes. The rain wasn’t letting up. I jumped each time a lightning bolt flashed across the sky, and trembled when the thunder rumbled. At only eight o’clock, I didn’t want to be stuck in my hotel room for the night, but with weather like this, I wouldn’t dare go anywhere besides the hotel restaurant.

  My cellular phone rang in the midst of the crackling of a thunderclap and frightened me so bad that my foot slammed on the gas pedal. Thankfully the car was still in park. “Hello!” I didn’t look at the caller ID.

  “Hi, sweetness.”

  “Hi, Damian.” I guess he saw my note. “Sorry about tonight. I tried calling you, but I guess you had your phone off.”

  “Yeah, I was in a meeting.” He sighed. “They just told you today?”

  “Yep.” I was always the last-minute girl. “I found out around noon.”

  “Well, happy anniversary anyways, baby. I guess I’ll find something to put these roses in until tomorrow.”

  “Awwww.”Ismiled. “Thank you, baby.”

  “Want me to reschedule the dinner reservations?”

  “Yeah.” I blushed. “Where were we going?”

  “I’m not telling.”

  “I’m missing you,” I said with a pout. It was our second anniversary as a couple, and we weren’t going to be together. “And the stupid concert is—”

  “Hold a sec,” he said then answered his other line.

  The rain was really coming down by then, and the lightning wasn’t joking, lighting up the dark sky, like it was trying to write a message.

  Damian returned. “Baby, I need to take this call.”

  I heard him rustling papers around. “All right.” I frowned.

  “Call me after the concert.” He sounded a bit disappointed. “I really wish we you were here tonight, though.”

  “Me too.” I got the message the lights in the sky were giving me and smiled. I hung up and shifted the gear into reverse. I was on my way back to Miami. Forget checking into a cold, lonely hotel room on my anniversary and flying back tomorrow. I was driving back to Miami to celebrate with my man tonight.

  Forty minutes south of Orlando, the weather was perfect. I took advantage of the dry asphalt, put the pedal to the metal and was in Downtown Miami and exiting I-95 at 10:40 p.m. I called the apartment to be certain that I wasn’t rushing home to an empty bed.

  “Hello.” Damian sounded like he was already asleep.

  “What are you wearing?” I asked in a sexy, sultry voice.

  He groaned a little. “Nothing.”

  “I was hoping that you weren’t.” I smiled.

  “Really? Why?”

  I was in a naughty mood. “’Cause I want to lick you.”

  He chuckled. “You do?”

  “Yes.”

  “Lick me then.” He was in a wicked frame of mind too.

  “You gonna touch it?”

  “What do you think?” he said. “Don’t worry about what I’m doing. You’re supposed to have your mouth full right now.”

  I smiled and started to make sucking noises, using my finger as the object of my affection.

  “That feels real good, baby. Don’t stop.”

  “You like that?” I asked, but he didn’t answer. I heard him moaning softly, and imagined him biting his bottom lip the way he did when I was kneeling in front of him.

  I continued my slurping and sucking sounds until I heard him say, “Suck that dick, girl. You know how I like it.”

  My panties were drenched like I had them on the antenna of my car while I drove through the rain earlier. “Are you hard?”

  “Of course.”

  “Damn, I want that dick, baby.”

  Damian and I always had phone sex when one of us was away on business.

  “I’m so wet.”

  He groaned. “Shit.” He was breathing heavy. “I want you on this dick.”

  “I want to give you this anniversary pussy.” I pulled into the garage and found a parking spot right next to the elevator.

  “Come here and ride me.”

  I’d get the suitcase in the morning. I grabbed my purse and sprinted to the elevator. “Damian, you got me open, baby.”

  “Slide down on it,” he spoke in a whisper. “Take it all.”

  “I can’t take it unless you give it to me,” I said as the elevator started moving up.

  “Can you take it?”

  “You know I can.” I began unbuttoning my shirt. “Just shut up and give me what you got.”

  “Here you go,” he said. “Take it. Oh, take it take it, baby.”

  I imagined his brown fingers wrapped around his swollen chocolate bar. I could almost hear his strokes.

  “Now jump off and suck it again,” he said as the elevator doors opened.

  “That’s what you want?”

  “That’s what I said, so suck all the pussy juice off my dick.”

  I sucked my finger again, giving him desirable sound effects. “Fuck my mouth.”

  He knew that meant me on my back and him over me, just as we were when we made love. The difference was him in my mouth with the same style aggression.

  “Fuck my mouth, baby.”

  “Yes.” His voice trembled. “Oh yeah.”

  I couldn’t wait to get inside and jump on him for real. We needed this excitement. “I’m finished sucking it, and I want to get back on.”

  “All right,” he said. “Get back on it.”

  I let him talk, while I quietly opened the apartment door, rested my purse on the kitchen counter, and threw my shirt to the floor.

  “Your pussy is so good, baby,”
he said in my ear. “I love it when you ride me, your hair in my face and your tits in my mouth.” He was breathing heavy. “Damn, your pussy is so good.”

  I moaned softly to encourage him as I removed my pants and underwear. “Fuck me, baby.” I continued moaning as I led my naked body down the hall. I was hoping to catch him before he started spitting.

  “You want this pussy?” I asked as my hand touched the doorknob.

  “Hell yeah,” he groaned.

  I turned the knob with the biggest smile. “Well, I’m here to give it to you.” I walked into the dark room and saw Damian lying in bed. He wasn’t stroking himself as I imagined. Instead, he was lying back, and his hands were wrapped around the waist of a woman bouncing wildly atop him.

  “Ride my dick, girl,” he said into the phone he had wedged between his shoulder and his ear, then leaned forward, taking her breast into his mouth while groaning into the phone. “You like it when I suck your tits?”

  My heart was pounding too hard to have my brain make sense of what I was seeing. I felt the wall for the light switch and couldn’t find it. “What the fuck is going on here?”

  It really wasn’t a question, and to show them that I didn’t want an answer, I threw my cell phone across the room, hitting the woman on her side. “I don’t believe this shit!” I was frozen.

  He threw her off of him and reached toward the floor for his boxers.

  I continually slammed my hand against the wall in search of the switch but kept coming up with nothing.

  “What in the hell are you doing here?” he asked.

  “This is where I live.” Forget the lights. I sprinted toward his silhouette and wailed at him. “How could you do this to me?”

  He was ducking my blows so I tried to get at his friend, but he held me back. In the darkness, I saw her run into the bathroom and I screamed after her. “You better jump out of the window, bitch, ’cause if you come out, I’m gonna kill you.” I was crying. “Damian, what in the hell are you doing to me?” I screeched and punched him over and over on his back.

  “Why didn’t you tell me that you were coming home?” He screamed at me as if he had just walked in and met me riding his daddy.

  “Why didn’t you tell me that you were fuckin’ in our home?” I jumped up and finally found the light switch. I wanted to see his face. This had to be a joke, but he wasn’t smiling. “I can’t believe this shit.”