Confessions. Sasha Campbell

I found out he was messing around. Don’t you know that sneaky bastard left a message for another bitch on my damn answering machine?”

      “What!” I tried not to laugh but couldn’t help myself.

      I could tell he didn’t see anything the least bit funny. “I guess he thought he was calling that bitch’s house.”

      I shrugged. “At least you found out early.”

      “You right, because I was ready to rock his mothafuckin’ world.” He winked and signaled for me to follow him inside.

      The club was real tasteful and clean with small intimate tables and chairs and low lighting. There was a big stage in the middle. Tristan moved to a long table in the back that was occupied by friends of his. Two of them I had met before. Coco and Mercedes. Both men were prettier than me.

      Mercedes glanced down at the watch on his wrist. “’Bout time you bitches got here.”

      “I know that’s right.” Coco gave Tristan a high five as he slid in the seat next to him.

      “Sorry I’m late, but if y’all weren’t listening, let me tell you, the show tonight was off the hook! Matter fact, let me introduce the rest of y’all to the hostess with the mostess, Ms. Nikki Truth.”

      I waved and took the chair at the far end.

      The other he/she I didn’t know started squirming in his seat. “Oooh! Girlfriend, your show is the bomb! I never miss it.”

      Mercedes gave a rude snort. “She ain’t lying. You’ve even answered her calls a few times.”

      I gave the one with the blond weave a long look. “Oh, yeah? When did you call?”

      She looked uncomfortable. “Last month.”

      Mercedes filled in the details. “Girlfriend, here was Oasis. She called telling you her man insisted on the cat sleeping in the bed with them.”

      Laughing, I nodded my head. “Oh, yeah, I remember. I told you to tell him to get rid of the cat or you were leaving his ass.”

      “Yeah, and the next day he packed his shit and left,” Oasis announced with disgust.

      “Damn. I’m sorry.”

      “Wasn’t your fault,” she said, and made an exaggerated show of fanning herself. “I think that cat was licking a lot more than just his paws under those covers.”

      The table roared with laughter. Tristan signaled for a waiter and we both ordered a martini. The deejay was rocking some old school. I had gotten my drink and was having fun with the others when I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I looked up, and it was a young slender woman with her head shaved bald and jeans hanging low on her hips.

      “Yo, ma, you wanna dance?”

      I looked up into the most amazing brown eyes I’d seen in a long time. Her lashes were naturally long and incredibly thick. Mascara had nothing to do with it. I would give anything to have eyes like that. I don’t know how long I stared at her before I finally shook my head. “Nah, boo. I’m strictly dickly.”

      The look she gave me rang loud and clear. She could do anything a man could do, only better. “Yo, don’t knock it till you try it.”

      I smiled. “Not knocking it. I just prefer my dick to be attached, not strapped on.”

      “A’ight, ma. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” With a nod of her head, she turned on the soles of her Air Force Ones.

      I watched her walk away and had to admit she had a hell of a swagger that made my nipples tighten. Damn, had it been that long since I had some?

      I raised my hand and quickly ordered another drink. Yep, Tristan was right. I needed some dick—quick!

      2

      Trinette

      “Trinette, open the got-damn door!”

      All I wanted was a tennis bracelet. Instead, I had some knucklehead banging on my bathroom door, trippin’ about a photograph he shouldn’t have found in the first place. I don’t know what it is, but once you give a brotha some, he seems to lose his damn mind.

      The evening had started off perfect. I had made a fabulous dinner of a tossed salad and Cheeseburger Macaroni Hamburger Helper. Afterward, we moved up to my bedroom, where I gave Cory a massage. The entire time I was rubbing oil all over him, I was thinking about the beautiful one-carat diamond and ruby bracelet I saw at Jared that looked gorgeous on my arm. Ready to get down to business, I flipped Cory onto his back and rode him as if he were a mechanical bull. Ms. Netta got mad skills, and I had the brotha speaking in tongues. I just knew that by the time I was finished with him there was no way he was going to deny me my bracelet. But before I could even begin hinting about jewelry, that idiot came and then had the nerve to fall asleep. I was so pissed off, I decided to treat myself to a hot bubble bath before I put his ass out, and had barely put my big toe in the water when Cory slammed his fist against the door, scaring the shit out of me. Now all I wanted was for him to get the hell out my house.

      “Cory, I ain’t in the mood,” I warned.

      “I want an answer,” he demanded.

      “Take your nosy ass home!”

      “Yo, I ain’t going nowhere till you tell me the truth!”

      Damn! After reaching for my washcloth, I mopped beads of sweat from my forehead. The lukewarm water did nothing to cool my raging temper. “I already told you the truth,” I mumbled.

      “Then why you got this mothafucka’s picture in your drawer?”

      What the hell was he doing in my drawer? Didn’t his mama teach him, if you go looking for trouble, you’re sure to find it? Besides, it was my house. If he wasn’t gone by the time I finished my bath, as soon as I dried off, I was putting his ass out.

      When it comes to men, I know when to cut my losses. Well, I was there. I was tired of Cory’s bullshit and his crooked dick. “I already told you. I forgot it was in there.”

      He snorted rudely. “You must think I’m stupid or something. I know you’re still fucking him. Now open this door before I knock it down!”

      Leaning forward, I turned the faucet on, adding more hot water to the tub while also trying to drown out his nagging voice. This is what I got for inviting his ass to my house. For once, I should have listened to Nikki.

      Why is it after you give a brotha some coochie they think they own you? I ain’t never been able to figure that shit out. There was no ring on my finger. Well…at least not this week. He wasn’t paying my bills, yet Cory had the audacity to go through my personal belongings looking for some shit to trip about. A photograph he had no business finding in the first place.

      Sinking lower into the water, I allowed my mind to wander back eight years, to the day I met Leon Montgomery. The first man I ever loved and the man I later married. He was also the man whose photograph Cory found in my drawer.

      “Trinette, you hear me talking to you!” Cory banged on the door again and broke through my thoughts.

      I shook my head while wondering how the hell I ended up with a psycho. I guess I had to take part of the blame. I should have been honest and told Cory I was married. My bad. I screwed up. I just didn’t think that bit of information was important, considering we’d only been seeing each other two weeks and I didn’t expect it to last much longer. It couldn’t. There was nothing he or any other man could do for me but give me their money, buy me nice things, and lick Ms. Netta’s coochie. Plain and simple. Hmmm. I guess this meant I wouldn’t be getting that bracelet.

      I don’t know why I went out with Cory in the first place. It wasn’t like he was my type. He’s a pretty boy with gray eyes and wavy hair. I don’t do pretty boys, because they spend more time in front of the mirror than I do. And I definitely can’t have