The Naughty Sins Of A Saint (38 page)

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CHAPTER 13

One month later…

Saint looked at the clock, and made a serious effort to keep his bloodshot eyes open. ‘2:00 in the damn morning,’ he thought as he continued to read his emails and rub his eyes. He heard the smooth, silk sheets moving behind him as Xenia’s body rubbed against them, tossing and turning.

“Honey, you need to come on to bed. I’ve been trying to sleep, but instead I hear your fingers clacking across the keyboard all night. What are you doing? Can’t sleep again?” She sat up and stretched.

“Sorry, Baby. I was just going over some last minute details of this conference in Manhattan, the one called ‘Sexual Re-Revolution.’ You’re welcome to come with me – matter of fact, I’d prefer it,” he said as he rubbed his left eye harder, making it water.

“I’d love to, but you already said I can’t attend the main event. I’d be stuck in the penthouse all alone, and besides, I can just stay here and work.”

“You can join, you just can’t be in the audience or on the stage. It’d make them uncomfortable. You could hang out backstage. One thing we pride ourselves on is anonymity. They don’t want the object of their affections standing right there if they feel especially awkward, and many do.”

“Well, my idea of a good time isn’t being backstage hearing you do your thing when I can’t even look at you. At least this way I can keep busy,” Xenia said as she yawned and stretched again. “If you want me for support though, I’ll come,” she added.

“No, that’s OK. I know you’d be bored if you couldn’t attend the conference, and it’s only for one day anyway. Did your period come?” Saint asked, concern in his voice. He was unable to read her on it which left him even more nervous.

She sighed. “Yes. It came last night. Since you were at the other conference, I forgot to tell you. I’m sure you’re relieved.” Xenia rolled her eyes and fell back onto the bed.

“Yes, I’m relieved, but not because I don’t want a baby with you – just not right now. My gut tells me the timing is wrong. Trust me. I told you we could discuss it again,” he said slightly annoyed. Xenia grumbled, rolled over on her side and closed her eyes.

* * *

Saint reread the latest email he received from an unknown sender:

Saint,

Your wife is still alive because you jumped in front of the bullets – very romantic. You should have taken that as a sign to keep your mouth shut. Since you and your cunt survived, you’ve had at least five engagements in which you continue to spout your rhetoric. You’ve been warned and yet you’ve learned nothing. I thought you were smart. If you conduct one more seminar, write one more book, or even do an interview promoting your work, there will be dire consequences, and this time, we won’t miss the target. The police don’t care about you. We both know that you’re not going to heed this message, so I recommend you kiss each other goodbye. The honeymoon is over.

“Hey, Baby, I’ll be in bed in just a sec,” Saint said as he shut down his computer, grabbed his cell phone, and headed down the steps into his private office as he dialed, closing the door behind him.

“Raphael. It’s me, Saint.”

“Yeah, I know! It’s two in the morning, Man! This better be important. I haven’t had sex in three weeks, and when I’m finally gettin’ some, here you come callin’! Why didn’t you use your little Superman mystic powers to find out if I was available first before you called? Goddamn!”

“I’m sorry, but this is important!”

“Where are you? Why are you talking so low?”

“I’m at home, in my office. Xenia’s asleep, but I don’t want her to overhear me.”

“Well then why in the hell are you whispering? Your new house is the size of a mausoleum, and you’re on another floor, in another room with the damn door closed!” Raphael barked. “This is fuckin’ ridiculous. Whisperin’ on the goddamn phone at 2:00 in the mornin’!”

“I don’t know why I’m whispering! Look, I need your help,” Saint said as he started to pace the floor. He scratched his bare chest as he looked around anxiously, his gold Buddhist necklace bumping up and down between his pecs with each step he took. “I have a plan, and I need your help,” he said as he peeped suspiciously out his window blinds.

“Oh, no. What type of plan is this?” Raphael asked as he left his bedroom and walked into his kitchen to grab a glass of milk.

“I need to have my computer checked for professional spyware. I had a dream last night that my computer was flashing, like a warning. It would explain how the gunman knew I’d be there the night I got shot. That was an unpublicized event, and I understand someone could’ve said something, but I find it unlikely. I got another email tonight. This is the same person that tried to kill Xenia. I knew the police just arrested someone, anyone, to close the case. It wasn’t the person who committed the crime.”

“You told me months ago that you had a trap! Now come to find out, I’m a part of the scheme. You’re killin’ me, Man. What do you expect me to do about this so-called spyware? I’m not a computer whiz.”

“You’re not, but Latrice is. Is there any way that you can get her to find out if there is something on my computer, but not let on what’s going on?”

“Oh, hell naw!” Raphael screamed. “I’m not giving Latrice your computer to crack codes! I’ve seen some of the stuff on there when you let me borrow it to check my Facebook. There’s no way in hell I’m doing that. Even if you temporarily got rid of it, she’d still be able to find it. You got dick pics and shit. Hell no! That was more of you than I ever wanted to see!” Raphael continued. “I’m not lettin’ Latrice see that so she can do a comparison! Uh uh – not gonna happen!” Raphael protested.

“Those were sent to Xenia when we were still living apart, that’s all. We didn’t get to see each other, so it helped pass the time. We missed each other,” Saint explained.

“I don’t give a shit if they were sent to the pope, the FBI, or the CIA! I’m permanently scarred – and humiliated. That shit made me feel like a little boy. You fucked up my self-esteem. Kill ya self,” Raphael laughed.

Saint closed his eyes, “I can try to delete all of it,” he offered. “You shouldn’t have been going through my stuff in the first place.”

 “It was your screensaver, Fool! I told you that deleting it wouldn’t work. It’s on your hard drive permanently. You love your dick so much it was right there, front and center, after I turned the computer on! I don’t appreciate having to have this gay-ass conversation with you either, Man! Latrice is gonna go through everything on your computer to try to purge it. Trust and believe, she’ll find it. Images of your dick should never be in your homeboy’s head! I should choke you out!” Raphael said, teetering on laughing and being genuinely upset.

Saint sighed and rubbed his forehead, “Come on, Raphael! Please put your ego aside for a second and help me out. Our lives are being threatened. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? I have to be careful who I confide in. I can trust you and Latrice. Please, Man! This is life and death, for real!”

Raphael sighed and paused for several seconds. “OK, fine. Bring the computer over when you get back in town. You owe me one.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate it. My trap is working. They came to me like I said they would. The rest is up to me.”

* * *

CHAPTER 14

Two weeks later…

“If you don’t tell her, who will?” Saint asked, his voice booming through the speakers in the jam packed, sold out stadium. “If you don’t tell her that you love her, you leave it up to someone else – someone who’d love to take your place.” He wrapped the microphone chord around his wrist as he continued to work the stage.

“That’s what this is all about. It’s not about how many you can get, sleep with, or add to your collection. It’s about ‘the one.’ All you need is ‘the one.’ If an awkward, lanky, strange, neurotic kid like me out of the Bronx can attract these ‘queens,’ so can you. Everything I know, I teach. There are no secrets to these techniques. Consistency is your best friend. Treat her with respect. Be reliable. Be the man you were created to be, and she’ll follow you. Women don’t want to be in control of everything, contrary to what some of them may say. She wants you to uphold your God given position, as the ‘king of the castle.’ That doesn’t mean that you go and run a dictatorship or you try to rule her. She has a God, and you’re not it. She has a father, and you’re not it. She may have a boss, and you’re probably not it. She was taken from the side of you. That’s why you keep her there.

Don’t let her lead you, and don’t let her fall behind. Walk with her, shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand. She’s your best friend. She’s your confidant. You have to be able to trust her. If you choose wisely, you’ll get out what you put in, or more. Your ‘queen’ is an investment. You take care of her like she’s a prize. In turn, she’ll do the same. These Rainbeau Man and Sexual Re-revolution conferences are special because some remarkable men are here to offer different pieces of the puzzle. It’s an honor to be here amongst my local New Yorkers, as well as all of you from across the state lines and national borders. How you choose to arrange your pieces and which ones you move first are up to you, but I hope you didn’t come all this way, pay for that ticket, and stand here just to dismiss the wisdom of the men here who have succeeded and have what you want. I’ve been in this for a while, and not too long ago, I was able to accomplish what I’d been preaching for years. It was a long journey, but worth the wait. You can have your ‘goddess.’ She’s out there waiting for you. Before you take her or approach her and expect to be her ‘king,’ you make sure you have a safe place for her to commune with you. Have your shit together before you step to her. Don’t be sloppy. We’re here to offer advice to help you avoid these pitfalls. We’re gonna be here all night. Tonight is yours. You have all our knowledge at your fingertips. Advisors like me are still necessary for seekers like you. I wish I wasn’t. I wish there was no need for a Rainbeau Conference because men had the confidence to date whomever they wanted – and the women, the object of their affection, weren’t consumed with worries from friends and family and concerned about being called sellouts and traitors. I wish no one had to endure getting stared at, hand-in-hand with his beautiful Black ‘queen.’ I wish you could be certain that your children would never hear one unkind word uttered to them because of their mixed racial make-up. We still live in a very racist society that tries to pit us against what we want most and make us out to be degenerates, race traitors, and sexual deviants. We just know what we want. We know what we like. We know what we need. It’s doesn’t get easier after you get her. The longing grows and grows. Once you connect with her, she accepts you, and you both are on the same page, you can never fully sever that connection. You’re in each other’s systems, and there is nothing more intense and lovely, but also vulnerable, in your world after that. For years I’ve been talking about how to attract her, how to date her, how to make love to her, and how to be the man that she needs you to be. It wasn’t until I had my own ‘goddess’ that I became fully aware of all that it entails. I dated many, had several serious relationships, but it wasn’t until I found my true ‘queen’ that I fully understood the depth of my own advice. Everything I’ve been saying is true, but the intensity – I can’t stress that enough – is off the charts. When you find the right one, you’ll have it. Because of your attraction, your undeniable yearning, you’ll never get her off your mind. Everything you do and say will be tenfold. All the arguments and lovemaking, you’ll feel tenfold. She’ll complete you. Once you have her, you’d do almost anything to never be without her again.”

Saint’s thought trailed for a moment before he got back on track. His entire body yearned for Xenia. His head and heart ached, his stomach in knots, missing her. He continued on, working the crowd into an applauding frenzy before he took his seat. He sat down and thought about Xenia, wishing so desperately she was there with him.

After the conference, Saint drove to his penthouse. He opened the door and immediately felt the coolness. The night air had permeated the open space. The lack of furniture caused unsettling echoes in the starkness. He set his keys on the kitchen counter and opened the refrigerator. He removed the lone bottle of beer, flipped the cap off, and guzzled it down as he paced his hardwood floor, looking out the window at the flashing city lights. He put his hand up to the cool glass and daydreamed as he watched taxis drive by and couples stroll hand-in-hand to various bistros and bars. He slumped down on his couch, placed the empty beer bottle on the table, and pulled out his cell phone.

“Hi, Baby,” he said as he stood back up.

“Hi, Sweetie! How was everything?” Xenia asked as she sliced pieces of cucumber for her dinner salad.

“It was good, real good. The turnout was record-breaking. I miss you,” he said as he pushed his hand down his pants. “What do you have on?” he asked gruffly.