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I opened my eyes to the morning sun coming in through the blinds and reneged on my promise as soon as my feet hit the floor. I wasn’t in the mood for community service. But I refused to sit in the house crying all day. Ebony was working. I didn’t want to go to see a movie. I didn’t have a thing to read. So, I decided Mekhi’s studio would distract me.
To my man’s credit, Airamas Productions was the hottest new record label in the industry. That was largely due to the fact that he had multi-Grammy award winning R&B artist, Benxi on the label. He’d also recently signed a few other very promising artists who were getting lots of buzz and airplay. I was proud of him.
Unfortunately, his success came at a steep price. A price that put a heavy tax on our relationship. Benxi. She was the butter on the rolls in our house, but she and I were like Batman and the Joker...enemies until the end. We both wanted Mekhi. We both needed Mekhi. He was my husband, and she was his ex. An unofficial ex since all their togetherness happened in the dark, between the sheets, but an ex all the same. He had her nostrils flaring like a bull’s and I could scarcely be mad about it. Wanting Mekhi Johnson was something I understood and hated at the same time. This drama made visiting the studio a painful necessity. I liked to keep an eye on her.
I pulled into the parking lot and as expected, I could see Benxi’s pink Hummer peeking from the rear of the building. Her second album released a little over month ago and United Music Corp, the distributor for Airamas scheduled a lengthy tour. She had dates all over the U.S. and a few overseas, but like most artists, she was on break for the holidays. Using the excuse that she wanted to get in the studio to work on her third album, she had chosen not to take a break from recording. That’s what the hooker said. The truth was she wasn’t taking a break from my man.
I pushed the door, entered the lobby and went straight to Mekhi’s office. I could see through the open blinds over the glass that framed the office that he was alone, so I let myself in.
That sexy, mega-watt smile contrasted against his ebony skin. The light overhead bounced off his sexy bald head. Mekhi stood and met me halfway between the door and his desk. “This is unexpected.” He returned to his chair.
Instead of claiming a proper seat, I put my bag down and perched my rear on the desk next to it. I wanted to be close to him. I wanted to disappear in him. I wanted to disappear period. “I was bored. That empty house was driving me crazy.”
“So you’ve said.” There was a dryness in his tone that sounded like frustration.
The catching-feelings-meter clicked on inside my heart. “Am I getting on your nerves?”
“I’m always glad to see you.” A second insincere statement. I knew him. I knew that tone. He was bothered. “Did you call Hightower?” he asked, referring to my lawyer, hinting at my promise from last night about the community service.
I crossed my arms over my chest and pretended to find the point of my Saint Laurent platforms more interesting.
“Sammie, look at me.” Mekhi’s voice had found its rhythm. I dropped my arms and gave him my full attention. “You said you would call.”
“I know what I said.”
Defeat weighed down his shoulders. He frowned. “You being sad and broken messes my head up. I’m a creative person. I can’t create like this and I can't be with you twenty-four. I would if I could, I swear to you, I would, but I can't.”
I couldn’t tell if he was lecturing me or feeling sorry for me. I sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m getting on your nerves.”
“No, you’re breaking my heart.” He paused, looked like he was getting his words together. “I asked you to find something to do with your time. I thought we decided on something and now you refuse to do it.”
“I’m going to call him. I just hadn’t done it yet.” I picked up my bag. I was at the door before I felt his hand on my arm. “Baby, don’t go like this.”
I stopped. There was nothing like the word baby coming off his lips or the feel of his skin against mine. I closed my eyes. How I loved this man. How I’d grown to love him even more over the past few months. I turned to him, intending to apologize, but before I could, he did so first.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be impatient with you.”
The opening of the door startled us. Benxi’s strawberry blond weaved head made its appearance.
Didn’t this heifer knock? Didn’t she do anything right besides sing and shake her half-naked behind?
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had company.”
Liar, the walls are made of glass.
She stepped into the room and swung her arms behind her and locked her hands together. She looked like a kid with her hair styled in those ponytails she’d grown fond of. Mistake. The romper she wore reminded me of the little one-piece I wore as a child; elastic bands at the leg joint, a cinched pleated mid-section, and all puffed out from the waist down.
I stepped away from Mekhi, backward in the office to let him have his space to speak to her.
“Hi, Samaria.” She avoided looking at me.
“Benxi,” I replied. “It was the same terse greeting we exchanged every time we saw each other. Civilized, but not ever genuine as we both hoped and prayed daily that we’d never see each other again. I wanted Mekhi to develop his other artists so he could get rid of this—”
“What did you need Benx?” Mekhi’s voice interrupted my thoughts.
“I have press all day for the next two.” Press meant she would be sitting for interviews with the media. It also meant she wanted him to hurry along. Time with the wifey was over.
“I’m going,” I offered. “I can see you at home.”
“You just got here. We can have lunch if you wait. I won’t be long.” He didn’t mean it, but he was guilty about Benxi. Guilty that his wife had to endure his working with his ex-lover.
I leaned up and kissed him, a peck, but a slow one. “I’ll see you at home.” I repeated it the second time for Benxi’s benefit.
“No, stay,” Benxi offered. “Have your lunch. I only need him for a few minutes and I have to leave soon.”
She turned and left the office.
“Slut.”
The word rolled off my tongue as easily as that Grammy Award winning heifer’s hips swayed to the tune she always seemed to have playing in her head. “I wish she’d—”
“You wish she’d what, Sam?” Mekhi snatched the ugly words out of my mouth. “You wish she’d what in the middle of her tour?” He tapped out a few words in a text on his phone and then raised his eyes to mine like he was waiting for my answer.
I narrowed my gaze and let out a long exhale. This situation with Benxi and Mekhi was going to drive me out of my mind. It was making me crazy and I was home in bed with my man giving him everything he needed and wanted twice a day. How was I going to cope when I was gone?
I swallowed, looked Mekhi in the eyes and turned my head away. I was ashamed of myself. One of the first things I’d learned being a new Christian was that words had power. Something about the tongue being small, but big enough to shake up things. Which meant, I didn’t really want to see my husband’s only real income generating artist fall down a well face first and break both her legs. I didn’t really mean the power behind that, but I had meant she was a slut. She put all the power in that word that it could hold.
“Samaria,” Mekhi’s velvety voice willed me to look at him. I did. “This is not productive.”
I sighed again. “I can’t help it.”
“Nothing is going to happen between me and Benx. Ever. I swear. I would not do that to you.”
“You used to be lovers.” I was stating the obvious for the fiftieth time.
Mekhi shook his head.
“I’m not saying it would be on purpose.”
“So, I’d accidently have sex with her?” He chuckled.
“Mekhi don’t play dumb.”
“If I can’t be faithful to you for six months—”
“Possibly twelve. Maybe even twenty-four.”
“Don’t do that.” He’d gone from reassuring to annoyed in a flash. “Don’t be negative about your time.”
“I could get into a fight with Big Bertha and not have good behavior. These things happen all the time in prison.”
Mekhi slipped behind his desk, flipped open a calendar and made a note before saying, “You’re not going to be in prison. You’ll be in the county jail.”
“If I only have to do the first twelve months. If I have to stay longer, they’ll transfer me.”
Mekhi groaned. “Where is this coming from?”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know. I don’t...I don’t mean to do this. I’m just scared.”
“I know and so am I, but we have to keep the faith. You have to keep it.” Mekhi’s words came off his tongue like a well-rehearsed speech. He wasn’t even looking at me when he said them. He was focused on his calendar and his phone, glancing between the two and making notes.
I cleared my throat to get his attention. “It’s hard when I feel like people like Benxi are wishing the worse for me.”
Mekhi grunted. “Benx ain’t thinking about you.”
I placed a hand on my hip and rolled my neck. After a beat, he looked up. I pinned him with a look again. “She’s thinking about you, which means she’s thinking about me.”
Mekhi released a long sigh and came around the desk. He took my hand. “Baby, if all you’re worried about is us... let me manage that. You take care of you. I got us on solid ground.”
I heard him, but I wasn’t ready to give up yet. “You like sex.”
“So do you, but I’m not worrying about Big Bertha turning you out.”
I snatched my head back. “I don’t like girls.”
Mekhi smiled.
“I’m glad you’re amused. This isn’t funny.”
The smile left his face. He released my hand and took a few steps backward. “I won’t cry, Sam. So if you keep coming here every day hoping to break me down, save it for home.”
I didn’t want to fight with my man. I loved him. I almost trusted him. I trusted him as much as I could humanly trust a man. I locked the door to his office, pushed the button to close his privacy blinds and removed my jacket.
His voice deepened. “I have to see what Benxi and Jake came up with for the hook.” He raised his arm and looked at his watch. “And I have a meeting in exactly ten minutes.”
“I only need five.”
There was a knock on the door and then the knob twisted. I turned the lock and Benxi came in.
“I’m sorry, I really need to leave now. Mekhi, if you could come.” She closed the door.
I crossed my arms over my chest which was heaving up and down by this time. “You’re busy.”
“Can we continue whatever the five-minute thing was we were going to do when I get home?” He cracked a smile.
“I don’t have a choice, do I? Bonita Jones calls.”
“I won’t be late,” he offered.
I placed a hand against his chest. Pecked him on the cheek and turned to leave. Mekhi pulled me into his arms and cupped my face and kissed me like I’d wanted to kiss him, but didn’t have the courage to. “I love you, Samaria Johnson. I waited eight years for us to get back together. Do you honestly think I’m going to throw it away?”
I willed myself to give him a hint of a smile and I walked out of his office. I saw the back of Benxi through the glass studio doors. Who wore that outfit in December?
A slut that wants your man that’s who. I knew what that looked like, because I had been that woman. I had been that woman too many times. I sighed, removed my sunglasses from my bag and slid them onto my face. I pushed the studio door open and stepped out into the chilly December air. Reaping what you’ve sown was the mother of all consequences. I had sown too many bad seeds to count. Now I was reaping big time.
I climbed into my car. Looked at dash clock. It was only eleven a.m. Mekhi was right. I needed something to do. I reached for my phone, found the number I needed and placed the call to my attorney’s cell.
“This is Samaria Jacobs-Johnson. I need to talk to you and I was wondering if you could find a few minutes in your schedule this afternoon?”
Mekhi paid him a lot of money, so of course his response was yes. I started the car and headed for his office.