God's Gift to Women (20 page)

“Okay, just one more stop,” she agreed. “But before we go, you have to do me a favor and put your school uniform back on.”

“Why can’t I keep my new clothes on?”

“Because your father may not approve of you taking gifts from strangers.”

“But you’re not a stranger, you’re my teacher.”

“I know, Samantha, but still, I think it would be best if we kept this between us girls,” she told her. “I’ll keep your things at my house. You can come over anytime you want and pick them up. You can even practice your singing if you want—I have a piano.”

“For real?”

“For real!”

“Thanks, Ms. Randall!” She gave her a firm hug. “You’re the best teacher I’ve ever had!”

“And you’re my favorite student,” she said as they walked down the mall holding hands. “Now let’s go sniff some perfume at Foley’s, then I have to get you home—Princess.”

“Hey, that’s what my daddy calls me.”

“Isn’t that a coincidence?”

THE VIEW FROM the twenty-fifth floor was still as awesome as it had been the first time I saw it back in September. During the commercial break I stared out of the oversized windows onto the 610 freeway watching the cars as they zoomed by. In the distance I could see the flashing lights of a state trooper’s cruiser as he pulled over a shiny red Corvette. I could just imagine how pissed off the driver must have been to be getting pulled over at two o’clock in the morning. “I guess that cop had his doughnuts to go!” I laughed.

It was one of the few times I smiled during the entire month of October. Although the radio show was number one in Houston, I wasn’t happy. Every night I stared at the studio phone hoping Terri would call to recite another erotic poem, but a month had passed since we fell out and still there was no call. I knew it was time to resign myself to the fact that she never would.

As I prepared to go back on the air, I took a deep breath and inhaled the aroma of the jasmine-scented candles to refocus. Mitch gave me the ten-second countdown from the control room, then faded back into the show with “Masquerade” by George Benson. It was the perfect song for Halloween night.

“Welcome back to
Love, Lust, and Lies,
” I said smoothly into the microphone. “It’s Halloween night and we’re talkin’ about people who hide behind masks, or, as Chris Rock would say, you don’t really meet the true person, you meet their representative. Let’s take one final caller before we wrap it up. Gloria from the Third Ward, what’s your question or comment?”

“My question is, how can a woman ever know who a man truly is? Men are always putting on facades, especially at the nightclubs.”

“Give me an example.”

“Okay, I met this gentleman at Maxwell’s nightclub. He was very attractive, well groomed, and had good conversation. When I asked him if he was married or had kids, he said no. Then he went on to tell me about a successful cleaning business he owned. Well, the following weekend we’re driving down Richmond Avenue in his Navigator. Out of nowhere this woman with two kids in the back of her car pulls up next to us, screaming at the top of her voice. She sideswiped us a couple of times, then cut us off in the middle of the street.”

“Don’t tell me, it was his wife!”

“Oh, no, it’s much better than that; it was one of his three babies’ mamas. Turns out the car he was driving was hers. She cursed him out so bad I almost felt sorry for him.”

“What about his cleaning business? Don’t tell me that was a front, too?”

“Chile, please! Two days before that incident I talked my boss into hiring him to clean our office building. Can you believe this clown shows up with a wet vac from Sears, three plastic buckets, and two Mexicans? I was so embarrassed I took two weeks’ vacation just to avoid my coworkers.”

“It’s obvious that he was a real busta,” I said. “But what about the good men out there who are misjudged?”

Mitch’s head sprung up from the control board. He knew I was about to vent.

“What do you mean?” Gloria asked.

“I’m saying that sometimes women have a tendency to jump to conclusions without all the facts. For example, I have a friend whose girlfriend saw a woman get into his car. Should that affect her trust?”

“Not necessarily!”

“And let’s say that the next day that man has a hickey on his body, maybe on his neck; does that make him a cheater?”

“Hold up a second, Julian. Your friend needs to put the shoe on the other foot,” she said wisely. “If his woman came home with a mark on her neck, back, ass—whatever, he’d drop her in a split second,” Gloria asserted. “And besides, what kind of explanation could he possibly have, that his neck accidentally fell against her mouth while she was sucking? Give me a break!”

“But what if—”

“What if nothin’.” She cut me off. “Now, I listen to you give advice five days a week, and to your credit, it’s pretty good,” she said. “Now, take some advice from a fifty-year-old veteran—perception
is
reality. If a man puts the wrong perception out there for his woman to see, then he must deal with the reality of the consequences.”

I had to pause for a second to let that marinate. She broke me down and read me like a Dr. Seuss book. Even if I wanted to play it off, I couldn’t.

“You’re right,” I sighed. “Thanks for the honesty and the insight—
veteran
!”

“Anytime, Mr. Payne,” she said graciously. “And I hope everything works out for
your friend.
Sounds to me like he’s got a little drama in his life.”

“Don’t we all?”

Mitch was frantically waving his hands. When I checked the clock on the console I realized why: it read 2:02.

“That’s it for me tonight, Houston. Thanks for allowing me into your homes, your hearts, and your minds—peace.”

Mitch hurried out of the control room and into the studio. He switched on the lights and came over to where I was sitting.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he said while getting in my face. “You know better than to air out your personal issues on the air!”

“Whatever.”

“
Whatever
? Is that all you have to say?”

“Back up off me, man!” I stood up and stepped toward him. “You work for me, not the other way around, remember?”

“Boy, if I was ten years younger I’d wipe the floor with your sorry ass!” He put his hand in my face. “Now I know you’re hurting over this thing with Terri, but don’t you ever allow it to affect
our
show. That’s right, I said
our
show because I help put this together. When the day comes that you forget that, it will be the day you can do this by your damn self.”

As he turned to walk away he knocked over the wobbly cart rack. Hundreds of tapes scattered on the floor. “Damnit, not again!” he yelled out. We both bent down and started picking them up. While stacking the tapes on top of the console, I looked into his eyes and saw the pain that I caused him. I knew I had made a terrible mistake.

“Mitch, I’m sorry, man. I don’t know why I’m trippin’. I know I wouldn’t be here without you.”

He didn’t say anything at first; he just looked at me with that fatherly expression of disappointment. Then he stood up and spoke to me in a firm tone.

“You know, Julian, it’s not always easy working in the shadow of a celebrity. It takes a man with a lot of confidence to handle having women pass by him to get to the
star.
But I’ve had my moment in the spotlight and I’m secure enough to play my role in this relationship because that’s exactly what it is, a relationship. And there’re not too many couples who make it five years, let alone fifteen.” He paused. “What I’m trying to say is, I’ve always seen your success as my success. My job was to put you in the best position to win! And I take a lot of pride in what I do and I’m damn good at it. So the next time
you even think about putting another person down, remember—no man is an island. We all need help to get to where we want to go.”

“I hear you, Mitch. What can I say? It’s another lesson learned.” I extended my hand. “Still friends?”

He tried to play stubborn, but Mitch was always a sucker for a genuine apology.

“Yeah, still friends,” he said under his breath. “But don’t ever disrespect me like that again! Next time, I’ll turn up the voltage on your mic and shock your big ass to death!”

“Deal,” I said as we shook hands and embraced. “Now, go home to your wife. I’ll pick up the rest of these tapes.”

“Are you sure? The last time you knocked over this rack it took me a half hour to put them back in alphabetical order.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Now get the hell outta here!”

After Mitch programmed the station for the morning crew, he grabbed his things and left. I sat down on the floor and got comfortable while I put the tapes in order. There was no need to rush. I didn’t have anyplace to go.

A few minutes into stacking the tapes, I noticed that some had fallen underneath the console. I got down on my stomach to reach them. Suddenly I heard the studio door swing open. I knew it couldn’t have been Mitch, because I’d seen his car pull out of the underground parking. As I turned over onto my side, my heart pounded like a drum. Before I could twist completely around to see who it was, I heard a voice.

“I love the smell of those candles; what is that, jasmine?”

“Terri? You scared the shit out of me!”

“Who did you think I was—Olivia?”

I paused for a second, then went back to stacking tapes.

“I see you’ve been talking to Mitch. How much did he tell you?”

“Everything! Even the part about the hickey—which I still find a little hard to believe.” She laughed, then she bent down and joined me on the floor. “Can I give you a hand?”

“Terri, I know you didn’t come here at two o’clock in the morning to help me stack tapes.”

“I was already downstairs in my office catching up on some work. Maybe that’s where I wanted to be. It was the excuse I needed to see you.”

“You still haven’t told me why you’re here,” I said with attitude.

“Don’t be like that, Julian. You know I came here to tell you I was sorry. Sorry for not listening to your explanation, and most of all, sorry for not trusting you.”

“It took you four weeks and a visit from Mitch to finally open up? And what if he hadn’t come to see you? Would we be talking right now?”

“Baby, what difference does it make? What’s important is that I’m here.”

“I’ll tell you what’s important. What’s important is that I expected you to be more open-minded.”

“Come on, Julian, how did you expect me to react when my man shows up with a big hickey on his neck like a teenager?” she said. “I was hurt!”

“I was hurt, too! My sleep is all messed up, I’m snapping at Mitch every night, and my issues with you are starting to affect my show.”

“Yeah, so I heard. Gloria sure broke you down.” Terri laughed. “For a minute, I thought she was hosting the show.”

I laughed, too. Although I didn’t show it, I missed the sound of her laugh and her bright smile. And she was looking good, too. She had on a tight blouse and a pair of those spandex pants that showed every curve. While she was kneeling down, I couldn’t help looking between her legs. Terri was slightly bow-legged, and she had a gap that was sexy as hell. I had to hand it to her, she knew how to get a man’s undivided attention.

“So, where do we go from here, Mr. Relationship Expert?” Terri reached over and grabbed my hand. “I really do miss you, you know?”

“I miss you too, baby. But I’ve got to know that from now on you’re going to trust me to do the right thing.”

“I promise.” She stood up and walked toward me. “And baby, just so you know, you were always in my thoughts. I just needed time to get my head together. Like I told you, I’m not going anywhere. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever.”

We held one another. I was holding her so tight I could feel her heartbeat. She stroked the back of my head while kissing me gently on the neck. “I missed you, Julian,” she spoke softly into my ear. “God, how I missed you!” Then we kissed.

We were so into each other we didn’t notice we were crushing the tapes on the floor.

“This raggedy-ass rack is gonna get somebody killed one of these days,” I said.

“Yeah, I know. I knocked it over yesterday while I was on the air.”

As we continued to pick up the tapes, I sensed that Terri had something she wanted to say. I knew what it was, so I broke the silence.

“The answer is no.”

“No, what?”

“No, I haven’t heard from Olivia,” I said. “I think she’s finally got the message.”

“Julian, I deal with these types of obsessive disorders every day. There are cases where patients receive treatment and then years later kill the person they’ve been stalking. I’m not trying to scare you, but you need to understand that Olivia could still be dangerous.”

“Thanks for the warning, Doc,” I said nonchalantly, “but I have this under control.”

WHEN I MADE it home later that night, Juanita was asleep on the sofa. She still had the remote in her hand with the television tuned to NBA TV. I shook her by the shoulder to wake her.

“Hey, Julian. What time is it?”

“It’s three thirty.”

“Time flies when you’re watchin’ hoops.” She stood up and grabbed her purse off the counter. “There must have been eight different games on at once.”

“So, how did Houston do tonight?”

“Steve Francis dropped thirty-six points on the Lakers.”

“All right, Rockets!”

“Yeah, but they still lost. Kobe Bryant hit another last-second shot. That bucket cost me twenty bucks!”

As I escorted her to the door, I handed her a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill.

“Well, here’s a little something extra for staying late for the past few weeks,” I said to her. “Now go home and get some sleep—Laker Hater.”

“Why thank you,
Mr. Payne,
” she said. “And by the way, I’m not a Laker Hater, just a Rocket Lover. See ya tomorrow!”

I went upstairs to check on Samantha. I was so caught up with my work that I had hardly laid eyes on her in two days. When I opened her bedroom door she was diagonal on her canopy bed, nearly hanging off the edge. She looked precious all twisted up in her pink comforter with her arms wrapped around a stuffed animal. Just looking at her little brown face melted my heart.