Girls from da Hood 11 (23 page)

Carl cut his eyes at me and walked back over to his desk. He sat in his chair and faced me. “What other women, Miah? I hope you didn't feed into that bullshit Patricia just said to you.”

“What Patricia says or has said doesn't matter. It's what I know that does. I know you well, Carl, so stop putting on this front. Just because I don't say anything, it doesn't mean that I'm not paying attention.”

“Paying attention to what?”

“To your desires for black women. I'm not saying that you refuse to date women of other races, but for the past several years, you've definitely had your share of black women. I know about the stripper you've been involved with, I know about the chick who works at the bank where you deposit your money, and I also know about the one who sold you your BMW a few months ago. Then there's me. All of us are still active in your life, and just because they don't know about me, I definitely know about them. While Patricia has been nothing but a thorn in your side, it's not like you've been a saint.”

Carl wanted to dispute what I'd said, but he knew I had my facts together. He fumbled with his hands then removed his cap to scratch his head. “I may be involved with those women, but you know I would drop them in a heartbeat to be with you. You know how I feel about you, Miah, so don't stand there and pretend that you don't know.”

I moved closer to Carl's desk and leaned against it. “No, I don't know how you feel about me, Carl. Why don't you tell me? Are you saying that you love me? Is that what you're saying?”

Carl lips were muffled for a few seconds. He knew damn well that he didn't love me or anyone else for that matter. Like many of the men I'd dealt with, they wanted to have their cake and eat it too. That was perfectly fine with me, as long as I wasn't foolish enough to think otherwise. I wasn't.

“I wouldn't necessarily say love, but I do care deeply for you. I need you, Miah, and I can't imagine my life without you.”

“No, what you can't imagine yourself without is my pussy. You want it when you want it, how you want it, and where you want it. Like I said, just because you're getting a divorce, it doesn't change one single thing. There is no need for us to start confusing ourselves about where we stand in this relationship because we already know. I won't be moving in with you no time soon and our time together won't increase. We shall remain as is, and as long as you understand that, I'm good.”

Carl sucked his teeth and locked his eyes with mine. “If we're going to remain as is then you're fired. I can't stand to be around you like this, Miah, and you know I want more.”

I was shocked by Carl saying that I was fired. I wasn't sure if he was being truthful with me or not. Either way, it was his way of exemplifying control. But just like my other situations, I was the one in control and sometimes, the men in my life needed to be reminded of that.

“You say you want more,” I said, pulling my blouse over my head. Without a bra on, my firm breasts stood at attention, making Carl's mouth water. “If you want more, I'll give you more.”

I unzipped my skirt and let it drop to the floor. While standing in my purple lace panties that revealed my goodies, I nudged my head toward the door. “If you're interested, go close the door. If not, I'll clear out my desk and get the fuck out of here.”

Carl stood, but slowly made his way to the door to close it. He removed his shirt, and I had to admit that I was a sucker for men whose bodies were cut in all the right places. Carl's workout plan was doing him well.

He walked up to me and eased his arm around my waist. As he pulled me to him, my meaty, chocolate breasts were smashed against his carved chest. “I'll give you more, Hot Chocolate, but you must play by some of my rules too. If not, I'm afraid that what I said still stands. You're fired, because there is no way in hell for me to continue on like this.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Have it your way. After all, you are the boss.”

Carl bent me over on his desk and had it his way. It was his way in the chair, and his way on the floor. Even after we were done, he still had it his way. I was fired, and I happily gathered my things to go. His decision didn't upset me one bit. Why? Because I knew that he would come crawling back on his hands and knees, begging me to come back. At that point, I would make it hard for him, and needless to say, I would have it my way.

I would be lying if I said that there weren't times when I didn't incur setbacks. With Carl firing me, it was apparent that I had to find another job. No matter if we managed to work things out or not, I refuse to work for him again. That would be putting myself in a bad situation—more so, it would make him think that I needed him, more than he needed me.

He called earlier, but I hadn't returned his call yet. I was on the phone with Nadine, listening to the drama she'd been going through with these ridiculous women out there, trying to keep a lock on their men. She also weighed in on my situation as well.

“I don't like the fact that Carl fired you, but as long as you got that situation over there under control that's a good thing.”

“Trust me when I say I do. I won't say that he's going to regret firing me, but I will say that I'm going to make it real hard for him to get back on my team.”

“What makes you think he wants to be back on it? If he's messing around with those other chicks, he probably could care less about what happens to you. I guess what I'm trying to say is don't fool yourself. We tend to think these men are wrapped around our fingers, but many of them have their own agendas. That's why they do this shit to their wives and girlfriends. Don't you think for one minute that they got strong-ass feelings for us. Most of the time, it's all about the sex. Sex that they can get anywhere, honey, and not just from women like you and me.”

“I get what you're saying, but I know Carl. He's my weakest link.”

Nadine laughed and we continued to talk. I was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. I had a job interview at noon, so I told Nadine I would call her back so I could prepare myself.

After I hung up the phone with her, I sat at the kitchen table flipping through a fashion magazine. I always wanted to be a fashion designer, but every time I moved two or three steps in that direction, something or someone would always push me back. Particularly my ex-boyfriend, Maxwell, who changed the entire game for me. I gave up on pursuing my career because of him. I gave up on men period, because he was a dog-ass nigga who didn't deserve me. It was because of him that I would never commit myself to another relationship. I didn't trust men, and everything that I knew about them said that they were no good.

Maxwell and I had dated for seven years. I gave that nigga seven years of my life, only to realize that all of it was one big lie. We were engaged, and the day of our wedding, I found out that Maxwell had been seeing two other chicks. One of them showed up the day of the wedding. She was there to stop it, and when she entered my room to tell me the details of her and Maxwell's relationship, I was floored. I didn't want to believe it. We definitely had the wrong Maxwell because the man I was about to marry had spent every single day with me. The only time he was away from me was while he was at work. There was no way that he had time for another chick, but boy was I wrong. He had made time. Made time during his lunch breaks, made time when he told me he was going on business trips, or when he often said he was at home with headaches and didn't feel good. My stupid self didn't have a clue. I trusted him, more than I trusted my gut that often times told me something was very wrong.

Then, the other chick approached me that night, when I didn't have much fight left in me. I was all cried out and Maxwell had revealed his true feelings about marriage. The truth was, he didn't want to be married, but he was afraid to say it. The only reason he had proposed was because, after seven years of being together, I kept threatening to leave him and he didn't want to lose me. Well, if you don't want to lose somebody then that was a clear message to do right by them. But Maxwell didn't want to do right. The other chick was pregnant by him, and I couldn't get over it. It was too much for me to swallow. Too much for my heart to muster. Every time I looked at him, I hated him. When I looked at Moses, I saw Maxwell's cowardly ways. When I looked at Juan, I saw Maxwell trying to keep the one he really cared for a secret. When I looked at Carl, I saw the Maxwell who wanted control because of his money, but knew that the money he had could get him any bitch he wanted. Basically, there were no differences in any of them. The goal was for me to learn how to deal with them and to not play the fool ever again.

The one thing that I regretted was some of the other women getting hurt. But to me, they needed to recognize and get a clear picture of the fools they were with. I wanted them to discover the real deal, because had I known, I wouldn't have been running around here with an engagement ring on my finger, bragging about soon being a married woman. I wouldn't have been faithful to Maxwell for seven, long fucking years, and I wouldn't have spent almost ten thousand dollars on a damn wedding that would never be.

It was the most embarrassing time in my life. To tell all of my friends and family that I wouldn't be getting married was devastating. I had to admit that I hadn't done my homework, and I also had to admit that even after seven long years, I still didn't know the man I was with.

As I was in deep thought, sipping on coffee, I heard a knock on my door. I hadn't spoken to Moses in a few days and I was sure it was him. Instead, it was Juan. I certainly didn't have time to argue with him, and I started to pretend that I wasn't at home. However, he kept on knocking. When he called out my name, that's when I decided to open the door. Juan stood in a gray business suit, white crisp shirt, and a maroon and black striped tie. He was clean as ever, but I ignored how handsome he looked.

“First of all,” I said, “you know better than to come over here without calling. Secondly, I have a job interview to go to. Whatever you need to say, say it and be done with it.”

“Do you mind if I come in?”

Without saying a word, I opened the door. I stood right by the door, just in case he got any ideas about going to the bedroom.

“Listen. I just stopped by to tell you how sorry I was about speaking to you in an ill manner the other day. You didn't deserve that. The truth is, all of this is on me. I take full responsibility for my actions and I never should have put you in the middle. My daughter told me what happened in that bathroom, and all I can say is that she was wrong on so many different levels. I was wrong for giving my wife your phone number, and I promise you that you will never be put in a situation like that again.”

“I hope not, Juan, because I don't get down like that. I don't owe your wife or daughter an explanation, you do. I accept your apology right now, but I'm so troubled by the whole situation that I don't know if I want to continue to involve myself in this relationship with you. It's too much, and I can honestly say that my feelings were truly hurt.”

I lied my ass off. I wasn't hurt. Disappointed? Yes. But it was times like these where I could get additional things that I wanted from my lovers. After all, like I said, this side-ho thing did come with some benefits. Bottom line, we were all using each other to fill voids and get what we wanted.

Juan stepped forward and held me in his arms. He kissed my forehead and rubbed up and down my back. “The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you. You've been so good to me, and you should not have to pay for my fuck ups. If there is anything that I can do to make you feel better, let me know. Baby, I will do it, but you've gotta give me another chance.”

I wasn't so sure how I would get Juan back for what he'd done, but his penthouse did cross my mind. I would love to live there, but like I said before, I didn't appreciate his name being on it. Maybe we could do something about that little problem and have his name replaced with mine. Before I brought that to his attention, I had to let him know that all was forgiven.

“We must move on,” I said. “But please don't let anything like that happen again. I don't want to fight with your wife, or with your daughter. If she ever confronts me again, it's not going to be good for her. I'm just letting you know.”

“If she ever confronts you again, all you have to do is call me. I will deal with her myself.”

“Thank you. For now, I prefer to deal with you.”

I backed Juan up to the door and slithered down to my knees in front of him. I unzipped his slacks and lowered them to his ankles. His hard dick went right into my mouth, where I sucked and swallowed all that I could. He pumped my mouth like it was a hot pussy, which, by the way, I gave him some of too. While in my bedroom, I put a deep arch in my back and gave him a ride with my ass facing him. He always commented on how pretty it was and what a pleasure it was to watch me in motion. For the first time, though, he compared me to his wife.

“She never gives it to me like this,” he said. “I love watching you in action, and I would rather be here watching you all day like this, than being at that house with her doing nothing.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever, nigga. You made your choice, now deal with it.
That's what I wanted to say out loud, but fuck it. Instead, I gave him much pleasure for the next hour or so, then got dressed to go on my interview.

“Good luck on your interview,” Juan said, standing by the door. “I hope you get the job. I'm almost positive that you will.”

“Thanks for having faith in me. We'll talk later, and maybe I'll see you at the penthouse tonight.”

“I'm looking forward to it. I'll be staying there for a while, or at least until things settle down at home.”

Great. Tonight would be the perfect time to discuss my needs, so I looked forward to seeing him too.

* * *

I sat in the beautiful lobby completing the application for employment and waited to be interviewed for the Administrative Assistant position that came with a lengthy job description. The pay was good, so I was determined to get the position. The white skirt I wore hugged my hips and displayed my awesome figure. My button-down shirt squeezed my breasts and my gold jewelry matched my high, peep-toe heels. My hair was parted through the middle and it fell inches past my shoulders. I came well prepared, and I was positive that my experience made me the perfect candidate for the position.

After I completed the application, I gave it back to the bubbly receptionist. She asked me to have a seat and told me that Mr. David Wright would be with me in a few minutes.

“Would you like something to drink while you wait?” the receptionist asked. “He shouldn't be long, but over there is some bottled water, coffee, and sodas. Help yourself.”

I thanked the receptionist and walked over to where the beverages were. As soon as I popped the cap on the bottled water, I saw a fine-ass black man standing next to the receptionist's desk. He rocked a tan suit that looked dynamite against his deep, dark skin. Had to be in his early forties, and kind of reminded me of Wesley Snipes in his
New Jack City
days. I loved how thick his lips were, and his trimmed hair had a noticeable shine. The receptionist passed him my application. I saw him look it over, and when he lifted his head, I quickly turned away. I pretended to be occupied with a magazine on a table.

“Miah Jefferson,” he said.

I put the magazine and bottled water down then headed his way. There was a little swish in my hips—just enough to keep him zoned in. Without him saying a word, I could see him undressing me. I could see a squeaking bed in our future. And whether I got the job or not, we would definitely be fucking. Okay, so maybe I was a ho. But then again, I was just good at what I did.

I extended my hand to Mr. Wright's hand. “Yes, I'm Miah Jefferson. How are you?”

“I'm doing well. Come on back to my office and let's talk.”

He didn't have to ask me twice. I followed Mr. Wright to his office. Needless to say, it was spectacular and was decked out with a cherry-wood desk, a leather couch for lounging, and windows that viewed the downtown Chicago area. I sat in a chair in front of his desk and crossed my legs.

Almost immediately, Mr. Wright got down to business, telling me what my responsibilities would be and inquired about my experience. I was very thorough with my answers and made it clear that I knew how to operate all of the computer programs that were a requirement for the position. As a matter of fact, I knew even more. I used Carl as a reference, and I was positive that he wouldn't have no problem throwing in a good word for me.

“I'll give your previous boss a call and see what he has to say. I think you may be a good fit for this company, and I'm delighted to say that my search for a new employee may have just ended.”

All I could do was smile. “I hope so. How soon can I expect a call from you, either way?”

“Maybe within a day or two. I'll need to do a background check, check your references, and then we should be good.”

Yeah, he was going to do a background check all right. As soon as I stood up and turned around, I was sure he would. I already knew what to expect from Mr. Wright. That was a nice, fat dick that was busting through his slacks as it hardened. The moment we got into his office, the ring on his finger that I had seen while he stood by the receptionist's desk had magically disappeared. Moments after we entered his office, a picture that I spotted on a credenza behind his desk had been turned face down. I even saw when he switched his phone to take messages, and I guess that was because he didn't want any interruptions.

“Thanks so much for your time,” I said, standing and extending my hand again. “I'm so excited and I'm so sure that those references will check out for me.”

Mr. Wright thanked me too. He walked me back to the lobby, and the whole time I could see that dirty look in his eyes that I had seen plenty of times before. All I could think was—men. How thirsty could some of their asses be?