You're the One I Want (2 page)

“I thought he was on the grind in L.A., trying to do that acting thing?”

“That's what Kashawn told me. Deanthony said he had too much going on to come home. You saw that I was as surprised as anyone to see him bust up in here like that.” When Tangela passed the blunt back to me, I took a long drag, letting the weed infiltrate my lungs.

“Damn, ma, slow down. That's about all I have until I get back to the house.”

“Girl, you would think that out of respect for my marriage, he would have stayed away. That's what I get for taking the word of a high-yellow, Denzel Washington wannabe brother like him. Did you see Yvonne looking at me when Deanthony walked in? That busy bitch wanted to see my reaction and I fell right into that shit. I know she's the one who convinced him to come home.”

“Bree, come on, now. Yvonne is family.”

“Family, hell. She's had it out for me since the day I said, ‘I do.' ”

“Why would she mess with you like that, though?”

“Because ever since I told the family that I used to strip at Risqué, she hasn't liked me. I can't stand how she prances around here like she shits potpourri.”

“She's so damn uppity since she got sanctified,” Tangela added.

“And Akaisha at Radiance Salon, who went to Rickard's High School with her, told me she used to spread those hippo thighs for every dick that swung in her face.”

Tangela bucked with laughter as she took a toke from the weed. “Damn, girl, you wrong for that.”

“I'm just telling you what I heard. I'm sick of her giving me the stink eye every time she sees me. Matter of fact, I'm going to go in here right now and tell her to back the fuck off. I don't care whose first, second, or third cousin she is.”

Tangela grabbed my arm as I opened the car door. “The last thing you need to do is go up in there, making a scene at Kashawn's birthday party of all places. Forget her. Leave it alone.”

I sat there, feeling the effects from the weed. “Yeah, you right. Forget that heifer. I'm too high anyway.”

“What she needs is some dick,” Tangela said. “Some big Mandingo to fuck her cross-eyed.” Tangela had me laughing my ass off when she said that.

As the two of us continued getting high, Mama Liz peeked her head out of the screen door.

“Oh shit.”

“What are y'all doing out here? Come on inside. We're about to cut the cake.”

“Okay, Mama Liz, we coming.”

She stared at us, puzzled, like she was trying to make out what we were doing. “I mean it. Come on now.”

“Are you going back in?” Tangela asked.

“I'm too fucked up and I don't want to go back in there smelling like weed.”

“You wanna get out of here?”

“Yeah. Kashawn will understand. I told him that I don't feel good no way. I don't think I can go through the rest of the afternoon having to make idle chatter with Deanthony in there.”

Tangela drove me home where we mellowed out to Beyoncé's “Sasha Fierce” CD.

“Damn, ma, you did your thing on the remodeling.”

“You like it? You know I love that Afrocentric shit. Kashawn gave me his credit card and told me to have fun. You know, with his long hours at the hospital, he doesn't always have time. I damn near furnished the whole house in a day.”

“I like these tables and the sectional. All this must have set y'all back a couple of stacks.”

“Girl, you know I don't look at the price tag. If I like it, I get it.”

“That painting of you is cute.”

“It's all right. The artist is from Atlanta. I think he made me look too old. I want this artist Fullalove to do it.”

“Who?”

“Fullalove. He paints these portraits of athletes and rappers. I'm going to New York in November so he can paint me. It'll be a nice Christmas gift for Kashawn.” I walked over to the bar in front of the kitchen. “Hey, you want a drink?”

“Yeah, I'll have whatever you're having.”

Tangela continued looking around in awe at all the new furniture like she was in a museum while I poured two glasses of Chardonnay.

“So girl, what are you going to do about Deanthony?” she asked as I handed her a glass of wine.

“No clue. I guess this is what they mean by making your bed and lying in it.”

“You don't think he will say anything to Kashawn, do you? Came back to clear his conscience?”

“Deanthony doesn't have a conscience. Family or no family, he doesn't care who he hurts. Just like he showed up at the party without any thought for me. The best thing he can do is stay the hell away from me and Kashawn.”

“Well, baby girl, you know I got you if you need anything. He'll have to go through me first if he's thinking about messing shit up with you and Kashawn.”

“Thanks, Tange, but I don't think he'll be a problem. I plan on staying away from him.” I was about to take another swig from my drink when my cell phone rang. I pulled it out of my clutch. I studied the number on the screen. “Oh, this brother's got brass fucking balls, girl.”

“Who is it?”

I showed Tangela Deanthony's number on my phone.

“Don't answer it.”

Against Tangela's advice, I pressed the green icon on my phone. “Why are you calling me?”

“I told you, didn't I? I told you I was coming back for you.”

“Stay the hell away from me, Deanthony.”

“Or what?”

“Or I'll make you wish you had.” I pressed
END CALL
before he could utter another syllable.

“What did he say?”

“He ain't here for the cake. I gotta do something, 'cause if I don't, I'm going to lose Kashawn.”

T
hree years seemed like a lifetime ago the night I was unfaithful to Kashawn. It was one of the worst thunderstorms ever that year in August. I was headed home from Cheeks and my legs were killing me after dancing my ass off all night. All I wanted to do was soak in a warm bubble bath, a treat Kashawn often had waiting for me. On my way home in the rain, I caught a flat. It was the front-left tire on the driver's side. The one I had been on Kashawn's bubble butt about changing for months.

“I told him a million times to take the tire off, that I didn't want to be driving down some dark road and I mess around and catch a flat.”

I was coming from my girl's Latasha's baby shower. I couldn't really enjoy myself with him blowing up my cell every five minutes.

“What are you doing?”

“The same thing I was doing when you called me ten minutes ago. I'm still at Latasha's.”

The only way I was going to have any semblance of fun was if I switched off my phone. When I switched it back on as I was leaving the shower, there were, like, eleven messages in my voicemail. All of them were from Kashawn. If I didn't call him back, I knew he would show up at Latasha's.

“What is it?”

“What were you doing? I tried calling you.”

“No shit. I turned my phone off.”

“I just wanted to make sure that you were all right.”

Checking up on a bitch is more like it.

“I'm fine. You want me to grab you something to eat on my way home?”

“No, I just had a steak. What time will you be home?”

“The baby shower should be over around eight, so I will leave right after.”

“Hey, Kashawn!” Latasha's crazy behind yelled in the background.

“Who is that?”

“You don't know Latasha's voice by now?”

“What is this, like, her fifth child? I bet she can't tell you where the baby daddies are if she had a search party.”

I snickered into my phone. “Boy, hush. I'll be home in an hour.”

“Tell the Human Mattress I said, ‘hey.' ”

“Bye, fool.”

•  •  •

It was pouring down rain and I wasn't about to ruin my new pumps, stepping out there in all that, not to mention the weave I had just spent $300 dollars of good, hard-earned, booty-shaking money on. When I called Kashawn, his phone went straight to voicemail. So he could spend half the night blowing up my phone, but when I called him, his black ass couldn't be bothered. I called again and got the same thing: voicemail. This was him trying to be funny, but I didn't find anything remotely funny being broke down on a flat on the side of the road in pouring rain. I thought about calling Latasha to come and get me, but I didn't want to drag her out in bad weather.

I called Tangela, but as her phone rang, I remembered that she was in Atlantic City with her boy toy of the month. The rain pelted
hard against the windshield of my black Range Rover, a gift on my thirty-second birthday from my
dependable
husband. I sat there listening to the rain, contemplating who I could call to get me out of this mess. Deanthony made sense because he had a tow truck back when he worked for Advance Towing. I scrolled through a list of numbers until I got to his and dialed. He picked up, thankfully, after two rings.

“Deanthony, hey, it's Bree.”

“What's up, sweetness?”

“Don't start. I'm not in the mood. I caught a flat way out here on Lake Jackson. Can you come pick me up?”

“Where did you say you were at?”

“Lake Jackson. I'm on the side of the road in front of The Vitamin Shoppe.”

“Where's Kashawn?”

“He's not picking up the phone. This rain is coming down hard and I'm scared somebody's going to hit me way out here.”

“Okay, I'm not that far from you. It shouldn't take me that long to get out there.”

“Whatever, just hurry up.”

The last person I wanted to call was Deanthony, but since Kashawn had pissed me off for not answering his phone, I didn't have a choice. Three months before that night, Deanthony and I had started fucking around. Kashawn was feeling the stress of working sixteen-hour days at the hospital and I was frustrated from feeling abandoned. A day didn't go by when we weren't fussing about something. Money, getting the cars serviced, starting a family, even sex, the last thing I thought we would ever fight over. I secretly had a crush on Deanthony, attracted to that tough fucker exterior over Kashawn's four-eyed, bookish nerdiness. Kashawn could have gotten Deanthony a job at the hospital, but Deanthony
opted out to do grunt, blue-collar work for some tow truck company.

Kashawn and I'd had one of our knock-out drag-outs that night. Instead of going over to Tangela's to vent, I made a detour to Deanthony's. He embodied
fine
, wearing a white tank top that was smudged with grease. The navy Advance Towing jumpsuit he wore hung around his waist, exposing a sliver of ass crack. Deanthony looked like one of those oiled-up models from a skin calendar. He resembled Kashawn slightly. They could have been twins, but the only thing that told them apart was the scar he got from a bar brawl he was in—the fight he wouldn't go into detail for some reason.

“That's the difference between me and my brother. I handle stress a hell of a lot better than him.”

I was pissed that he was bad-mouthing his brother, my husband. “Why are you always bumping your gums about Kashawn? You put him down in the dirt every chance you get.”

“He thinks he's king shit now that he's some doctor. Medical school changed him, and I wish I could say it was for the better.”

“You could have gone to medical school. You're just as smart, and you had the same opportunities, so don't give me any shit about him acting any kind of way. The both of y'all grew up in the same household.”

Deanthony took a swig from a bottle of Jack Daniel's. “You sound like my mama.”

“Well, I hate to admit it, but maybe she's right. Kashawn offered you a j-o-b at the hospital, but you said you were doing your own thing.”

“Well, it wasn't like I had a choice. Daddy saw to that.”

“What are you talking about?”

“My
loving
brother didn't tell you? Daddy had his lawyer put a clause in our trusts that the only way that I could get my part of the trust, was if I went to college. He didn't want us to squander the money.”

“That's not how Kashawn tells it, Deanthony.”

“Bet he doesn't.”

I felt a bit sorry for Deanthony and all this sibling rivalry mess that was going on between him and Kashawn. “Give me that. You've had enough to drink. Have you eaten?”

As I set the bottle of JD on the end table next to him, he gently grabbed my wrist and pulled me on top of him. I could feel the thickness of his dick pressing against my right booty cheek.

“Fuck dinner. I want dessert.”

Deanthony pushed a hand down into my top, pulling my left breast free. He looked up at me as he started to tickle my nipple with the tip of his tongue. I don't know why, but I didn't stop him. The harder he sucked, the more turned on I became. My pussy was sopping wet. Before I knew anything, my top was bunched around my stomach. I was on my back on Deanthony's leather sofa, getting my pussy eaten by my husband's brother. In my moment of weakness, I didn't think about Kashawn or the damage I was doing to our marriage, not when Deanthony was busy tongue-fucking me. Deanthony was lapping at my juices like they were milk chocolate. Kashawn had cunnilingus skills of his own, but, damn, if eating pussy was a sport, Deanthony would be making millions. He wanted to fuck me that night, but I protested, scared that maybe Kashawn would smell another man's dick on my coochie. But he hadn't so much as tickled me in months, being too tired from the hospital to fuck.

“You can finger-fuck me, but that's it.”

“That's what's up,” Deanthony said as he slid a finger inside me. He sucked my nipples past his juicy lips as he fingered my pussy. I came three times that night. “Since you're not going to let me fuck, you might as well suck this dick, baby girl.”