Misery Loves Company
Asia charged into Nappy Nina’s and looked around for the owner. She spotted Nina in the back talking to a client and sipping a cup of hot tea. Asia wasn’t here for pleasantries today. She didn’t need her hair done and there was no time for small talk. She was on a mission to save her marriage.
She walked over to where Nina sat and stood there. Nina looked up and saw Asia and sensed trouble immediately. “Hello,” Nina said.
“Yeah. Hi,” Asia said rather snottily. “I need to talk to you for a minute.”
Nina excused herself from her conversation and stepped over to a secluded part of the salon with Asia. She couldn’t
imagine what Asia wanted with her and she was eager to find out. “What’s up?”
Asia got right to the point. “I need to know where my husband is,” she said. “Ishmael is not answering my phone calls and I’m about to really hurt somebody.” Asia was desperate to find Rah-lo, and that was clear, judging by the look on her face.
“Well,” Nina said, looking at the floor, embarrassed, “Ishmael isn’t really talking to me right now, either. He came home last night, took a shower, changed his clothes, and went back out. He hasn’t been back since.”
Asia wondered if Nina was lying. Ishmael had been ducking Asia, so maybe he had told Nina to lie for him. But the dejected look on Nina’s face signaled that she was telling the truth. “So you two are breaking up?” Asia asked.
Nina shrugged. “He’s mad at me. Hopefully he’ll get over it.” She didn’t tell Asia that Ishmael was ignoring her phone calls, too. “What happened with Rah-lo?”
Asia shot a treacherous look at Nina, and for a moment Nina was sorry she’d asked. Asia said, “Don’t act like you didn’t hear it already. I know how people talk.” She realized that she was taking her frustration with Rah-lo out on Nina and softened her tone. After all, Nina was going through a similar situation with Ishmael from the sounds of it. “He walked out and he won’t answer my calls. If the kids call him from their cell phones, he answers. But the minute I get on the phone he hangs up. And I know that Ishmael knows
where Rah-lo is. But he won’t answer my calls, either. I need to know where my husband is because I know he don’t think he can just walk out on me and leave me with three kids. He must be crazy.”
Nina sympathized with Asia. She knew how bad it felt to have your phone calls ignored by the man you loved. She shook her head sympathetically. “I don’t know much,” Nina began. “But one of the reasons me and Ishmael had a fight was because of how Rah-lo walked out on you.”
Asia was confused. She frowned and asked, “What do you mean?”
“The other day I ran into Charly. She asked me if everything was okay with me and Ishmael because he had come into her hair salon a few days ago to see Robin.”
“Robin?” Asia asked suspiciously. She didn’t know the former Dime Piece stylists too well. She knew only what she had been told. Since the salon had been owned by Rah-lo’s mistress, Asia had never been there personally. She only knew Nina because she was Ishmael’s wifey and, therefore, traveled in the same circles as Rah-lo and Asia. Over the years, Nina had filled Asia in on the other stylists—Charly and Robin—and how they had both slept with Ishmael. Nina had told Asia about Celeste’s close relationship with Ishmael and how uncomfortable that had made her. And Asia knew more details of Rah-lo’s affair with Celeste, thanks to all the things Nina filled her in on. “Why did he go to see her?”
Nina nodded. “That’s what I wanted to know. So I asked him, and he told me that Rah-lo wanted him to find out if Robin had heard from Celeste. He said Rah-lo’s in Atlanta trying to find her and he wants to know if any of us have an address or a phone number for her there. I didn’t believe him, so I went and asked Robin myself. She backed up his story, but now Ish is mad at me for questioning her.”
Asia processed the information she had just been given. Rah-lo had actually gone all the way to Atlanta to find Celeste. Asia kept her poker face on, but she was inwardly seething. “Did Robin tell him anything?” she asked.
Nina shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t think so.”
Asia stared off into space. She felt even more desperate than ever to find her husband so that she could patch things up between them. With Celeste back in the picture, Asia feared that her husband might be gone for good. “Thank you, Nina.” Asia took a deep breath and then exhaled, trying to calm herself down. “Call me if you hear anything else, please. Or if you need to talk.” Asia really didn’t want to hear about what was going on in Nina’s relationship with Ishmael. But if she could get any more information about Rah-lo’s whereabouts it would be most helpful. Asia walked out of the salon. Now she had to figure out her next step.
Celeste couldn’t believe her eyes. She sat in her office at work, checking out her MySpace page, and was floored to
find a message from Ishmael Wright. It had been years since she’d seen his face and he still looked incredibly fine! She scrolled through all the pictures he had posted on his page and all but drooled. There was one of him behind the wheel of his truck, one of him leaning against a graffiti-covered wall, and then she saw another one. Celeste gasped audibly when she saw it. The picture of Ishmael and Rah-lo dressed to impress at some party almost stopped her heart.
When Celeste had left New York four years ago, she had brought with her a bunch of pictures of Rah-lo alone, pictures of them together, pictures of Ishmael, Pappy, Harry, J-Shawn—of days gone by and all the fun they’d had. But she hadn’t allowed herself to look at those pictures in years. They brought back too many memories for her, and she had tucked them away in the back of her storage closet. Now, seeing pictures of Rah-lo and Ishmael sent her right back in time and she found herself on a journey down memory lane. Rah-lo’s beautiful lips were spread into a smile, and Ishmael’s sexy physique filled out his button-up perfectly. For a moment, as she stared at the photograph, Celeste couldn’t decide which one of them she missed more—the man she’d loved for years or his best friend, who made her panties wet.
“Hey, girl, what time are you leaving today?”
Celeste was startled by Keisha’s voice as she entered her office, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Celeste had been so entranced by the image on her computer screen that she hadn’t heard her friend come in.
Keisha frowned. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked. Keisha came around to the other side of Celeste’s desk to see what had her so engrossed that she hadn’t heard her approaching. When Keisha saw the picture of Ishmael and Rah-lo she fanned herself with her hand as if she had suddenly encountered a heat wave. “Whew! Girl! Who are they and where do I sign up?”
Celeste laughed. Pointing at the screen, she explained, “This one is my ex. And this one is his best friend.”
Keisha’s jaws opened in shock. “Damn!” she said. “They’re both fine as hell!” She peered closer. “But the friend is sexier, in my opinion. Is that the one you told me you were starting to develop feelings for?”
“Mm-hmm.” Celeste sat back in her chair and gazed at the picture, nodding.
“Well, I can see why,” Keisha said. “He looks like a cross between LL and Reggie Bush! Damn!”
Celeste laughed at Keisha’s assessment. “Well, Ishmael somehow found me on MySpace and sent me a message.”
Keisha pulled up a chair. “What did it say?” she asked, anxious for some juicy details.
Celeste guided her mouse across the computer to take them back to the previous screen. Ishmael’s message popped up in front of them. Keisha read it out loud and looked at Celeste suggestively. “He still loves you, girl!”
Celeste waved Keisha off. “What are you talking about? He didn’t say anything like that.”
Keisha sucked her teeth. “‘I miss you. Shit ain’t the same since you left … .’ Would you read between the lines? The man is crazy about you!”
Celeste rolled her eyes at Keisha but thought about what she was saying nonetheless.
“Did you write him back?” Keisha asked.
Celeste shook her head. “No, not yet. I don’t really know what to say.”
Keisha had heard enough. She was sick and tired of Celeste being so nonchalant about her love life. Before Celeste could protest, Keisha leaned over her friend and typed a response to Ishmael’s message:
I miss you, too. Call me. (404) 555-0217.
Before Celeste could stop her, Keisha clicked “send.”
“What are you, crazy?” Celeste protested. “I don’t want him to call me!”
Keisha was unfazed. “Why not? It’s not like you’re with Rah-lo anymore. It can’t hurt. Plus he wants to call you. He went through all that trouble of searching cyberspace to find you … and the man is fine! He don’t have to waste time on shit like that if he don’t want to. I bet women throw themselves at him all the time.”
“That’s the problem,” Celeste mumbled.
“So, if you don’t want him, when he calls you can give him my number.”
Celeste couldn’t help laughing. Keisha was crazy. “I would like to hear from him,” Celeste finally admitted. “Just to find out how everybody’s doing and—”
“Save that bullshit for someone who don’t know you, girl! You want to find out if he’s single and if he can still lay the pipe good enough to make bitches claw each other’s eyes out!”
The two women laughed and slapped each other a high five before Celeste logged off and the two of them headed home for the night. In the back of her mind, Celeste knew that Keisha was absolutely right. As Celeste climbed behind the wheel of her Benz, she sighed. She knew exactly what she needed. Seeing pictures of sexy Rah-lo and Ishmael had only reminded her that what she needed more than anything was some good sex. It had been weeks since the last time she’d been with Damon, and she was long overdue for some good loving. Trouble was, there were no viable candidates to replace Damon in her bed. Except, perhaps, for Bryson. She called him and he answered after the third ring.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Bryson. It’s Celeste.”
“Heyyyy,” he crooned. She could hear the smile spread across his face. It made her smile as well.
“I was just leaving work and I thought I would call you. What are you doing tonight? Feel like having a drink?”
Bryson took off his watch and set it on the bed, removed
his cuff links. “See?” he said. “That’s what I like about New York women. You take the initiative.”
“I guess that’s a yes?”
“Definitely. I just got home a little while ago, so why don’t you come by here? I have a full bar.” Bryson had much more than that. His home was simple, understated, and expensive. He owned a home on ten acres of land in Decatur, which had been passed down to him by his grandmother. He gave Celeste his address and brief directions and they hung up.
On the way to Bryson’s place, Celeste thought about what she wanted from Bryson—from any man, for that matter. She had money of her own. She didn’t need or want a man to take care of her ever again. It gave them too much power. It felt too much like charity. Even if they were kind enough to give you the illusion of control, they always held the reins. She wanted her own shit—her own money, name, success, and power. But she also wanted the security, the comfort, of a man. A man who didn’t come with baggage and issues. She wanted to be held, touched, and talked to—listened to. But tonight she would settle for being fucked.
She felt like a seductress as she drove over to Bryson’s place. This was how she should be living, she told herself. Foot on the gas, headed up the highway for a cozy night of drinks and intimacy, Celeste felt sexy as hell. She let the spring breeze blow through her open car window as she listened to Jay-Z’s
new CD. Ishmael’s face flashed in her mind, then Rah-lo’s. Where the hell had they come from and why now? She glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror and licked her lips. It didn’t matter. Tonight was all about Bryson.
She arrived at his house in no time and was impressed by what she saw. His home was a beautiful colonial-style house on such well-manicured grounds. As she stepped out of her car, Bryson came outside to greet her. He wore an unbuttoned dress shirt, a wifebeater, and a pair of tailored slacks. Celeste checked his shoes out and approved. This was gonna be a good night.
He greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. “It’s good to see you again.”
She smiled. He smelled good. “I’m glad to see you, too. Your house is gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” he said, smiling at her New York accent once again. As he ushered her inside and showed her around, he told her about his family. His grandparents had married young and given birth to two daughters before Bryson’s grandfather was killed in an accident. His grandmother had single-handedly raised her daughters and put them through college. Bryson’s mother, Alice, and his aunt Clara held degrees in education and psychology, respectively. And they had raised their children to achieve greatness. College was not an option, it was a requirement, in his family. The question was not if he would go to college but where he would go. And when his grandmother passed away at the ripe old
age of ninety-seven, she left each of her four grandchildren property.
As they reached the huge master bedroom on Bryson’s guided tour, Celeste gasped. The room was triple the size of her own and the only things inside were a king-sized bed, sitting atop plush cream-colored carpet, and a huge wooden armoire. One plant stood in the corner, as tall as a ballplayer. This was a lovely place for a single man to live alone. She realized that she was in the big leagues for real now. This was a fine brother with legitimate money, old money. He was as charming as ever as he led her back downstairs and poured her a glass of her favorite drink. He poured himself a shot of Patrón and sat beside her. Kanye’s “Graduation” played at the perfect volume, and Bryson’s cologne caught her attention again.
“You smell good,” she admitted. “What are you wearing?”
He smiled. Perfect teeth. “Thank you. Unforgivable.”
She smiled back. “It’s nice.”
She thought she caught him blushing. She loved this southern boy’s charm. “You always look this nice when you go to work?” he asked.
Celeste glanced at her black pencil skirt, Stuart Weitzman heels, and cleavage-baring ruffled blouse and smirked. “If you call this sexy,” she purred.
Bryson nodded. “That’s definitely what I call sexy. But I thought you were sexy from the minute I saw you at the party.” He sipped his drink.
Celeste crossed her legs. “Thank you.” She looked around at his home once again. It was sparsely decorated but so lovely regardless. “How long have you lived in this big house all by yourself?” she couldn’t help asking.
“Since about a year ago. At first my sister lived here with her husband and their kids. But they all moved when her husband got a job in Columbus. I moved into this house about two years ago.”
“No woman to share it with?” Celeste wasn’t necessarily auditioning for the part. But Bryson seemed almost too good to be true.
He shrugged. “I thought I had that. But it didn’t work out, you know what I mean?” He sipped his drink again. “Her name was Desiree. She had a daughter named Tiffany. I really thought I was gonna get married and have the whole perfect family.”
Celeste was intrigued. “And? What happened?”
He smiled at her impatience. “She cheated on me. Not like one-night-out-on-the-town-with-your-girls kinda cheating, either.”
Celeste laughed. “Is that what you think girls do when we have our nights out?”
He chuckled and watched her swallow her Hennessy. “Well, you know what I’m trying to say. It wasn’t just like a onetime thing that maybe I could forgive over time. She was still fuckin’—pardon my language.”
“No, it’s fine,” Celeste assured him. “Shit!”
He laughed, and so did she. Bryson continued, “She was still fuckin’ her daughter’s father behind my back. I’m playing daddy to his kid and she’s still letting him hit it. It was crazy.”
“It sounds crazy.” Celeste wondered why his ex would be so stupid. Here was a man who seemed to have it all. What was he lacking that would cause her to slip back to her deadbeat baby daddy? Celeste sighed, wondering if Bryson had a little dick. That would explain Desiree’s problem.
“What about you?” Bryson asked, snapping Celeste out of her thoughts. “Where’s your man?”
She threw her hands up. “I can’t find him!”
The two of them laughed and Bryson refreshed their drinks. He slid back into position, a little closer to her this time. “He’ll come when you’re not looking.”
She liked having Bryson this close. “Well, I didn’t see you coming up behind me at the bar when we met. Does that count?”
He smiled, his lips so close to hers that she breathed his air. “Yup.” He saw a sexy look of passion in her eyes. He liked it. She was in a naughty mood and he could tell. He kissed her.
Celeste tongued him expertly and he was drawn in. Her aggression was a turn-on! He pulled her closer to him and Celeste took the initiative once again and straddled him. He smiled. She kissed his face, feeling the Hennessy. Bryson was open. He liked Celeste’s whole style.
She pulled back as if suddenly aware of what was happening. “Damn,” she said, smiling and touching her lips softly as if she could still feel the kiss there.
Bryson looked into her eyes. “Don’t pull back now. I won’t bite.”
She wanted him to bite her. She wanted him to fuck her, ravage her, devour her completely. But she knew that she shouldn’t let him. Bryson was a good catch. He had a broken heart and she wanted to play her cards right. “I shouldn’t be this aggressive,” she said coyly. “You’re used to southern belles.”
He wouldn’t let her climb off of him. Instead, he grabbed her ass and held her there. She liked it; he could tell by the slow smile that crept across her face. “I can get used to this,” he assured her.
She stopped trying to fight it. She kissed him and he held on to her ass like it was a life raft. She had no idea what she was in for. He was gonna tear her little ass up. Her lips tasted so sweet. Celeste was feeling the effects of the cognac, and she aggressively unfastened Bryson’s belt and unzipped his slacks.
His lips spread into a sexy grin. “That’s what you want, huh?”
Celeste simply nodded and unleashed his thick, juicy dick, which was already hard and ready for action. Size couldn’t have been Desiree’s problem, Celeste thought. Stupid bitch! She rubbed it, kissed it, stroked him, until he was panting her name. “Look
at you,” he whispered. He was loving it. She stopped and sat back breathlessly, and Bryson unbuttoned the blouse she wore, unleashing her breasts. She kicked off her shoes and he tugged off her skirt. She led him to his own bedroom and he anxiously followed. Celeste climbed into the bed and Bryson climbed on top of her.
Celeste was in paradise. Bryson buried his face deep inside her pussy and ate her like lunch. She was gone. By the time he came up for air, strapped on a condom, and entered her, she was eager to feel him inside of her. He stroked her like an expert, careful not to hurt her with his ten inches but forceful enough to ensure that she felt him.
“Ohhhhhhhh … ohhhh … shit!” Celeste moaned with pleasure and he watched her facial expressions vacillate involuntarily. “Yeah!”
He switched up his rhythm and she followed his lead. Stroke for stroke she matched his intensity, and he was feeling that. She made him want to really fuck her. When Celeste turned over and stuck her ass far in the air as if she needed him to get it, he panted. “Shit! You want to get fucked tonight?”
“Yes!” Celeste grabbed the sheets as Bryson plunged his dick deep inside of her, stroking her so well that she moaned from deep in the pit of her soul. He was taking her there! Celeste shrieked when he slapped her ass, spanking her as he gutted her. “That feels sooooo good!” She was coming and he felt it. But he wasn’t done. He turned her over onto her
back and threw both of her legs over his shoulder and dug her out deep. Celeste could hardly stand it. She hadn’t been fucked this good in years. Bryson squeezed her breasts and pounded her out. When he finally came, she could feel him pulsating inside of her. His orgasm was long and intense and he shuddered as the last of it came forth. Breathlessly he lay beside her.
Celeste could hardly look at him. He had fucked her so well that she wanted to get away from him, but at the same time she wished she never had to leave. She reached for her clothes and he pulled her back in bed. “Don’t get dressed. Don’t fix your hair or nothing. I’m only gonna fuck it up again.” He smiled at her and she smiled back. For the rest of the night, he sexed her as if she were the last woman alive. She slept like a newborn child that night, with not a care in the world. Bryson lay beside her fast asleep. And in the morning he greeted her with round two.
Ishmael could tell she was coming. His face was buried in her moistness, and her juices dripped down his chin as he feasted on her expertly. He sucked on her softly and glided his fingers in and out of her wetness. Her knees began to quiver and her voice rose several octaves. He knew he had her now.
“Oh … my … God!!!!!!!!” Robin screamed as she came in Ishmael’s mouth, her body convulsing involuntarily. She
grabbed his head and pulled him deeper into her, and he loved every moment of it. He lapped up her creamy center eagerly. For two nights straight she had been Ishmael’s dessert after she was done with work and he was done with his hustle. Robin’s sister had been kind enough to look after Hezekiah while Robin snuck over to Ishmael’s secret apartment both nights. Her sister had been more than happy to watch her nephew, since she could tell by Robin’s cheery demeanor that she was finally getting some. To her sister, it was about time! Robin needed to start living before life passed her by.
Right now she had never felt more alive. Ishmael finally came up for air and he kissed her inner thighs, which were still shaking from the explosive orgasm he’d just given her. She breathed heavily as he maneuvered himself sensuously up the length of her body, stopping at her breasts and sucking on them separately. Slowly, he dipped the head of his dick inside her wetness, feeling her legs still trembling.
“I got you, baby girl,” he whispered, still teasing her with the tip of his manhood. “Let me in.”
Robin did. Slowly he stroked her, the rhythm making her feel weak with ecstasy. He was hard as a rock and she was loving every second of it. She clung to him, pulling him deeper inside of her, and he smiled.
“You want all of it?” he asked.
“Yes!” she answered breathlessly.
Ishmael slid his hands beneath her, palming her ass with
both hands. He plunged deep within her sugar walls and Robin let out a deep moan. Damn, she had some good pussy! She was tight and wet and so warm inside. He couldn’t get enough of her.
Robin had let go of all of her inhibitions. This man was the king of lovemaking! She wrapped her legs around his waist and ground herself back at him, matching his strokes with equal intensity. Ishmael tried to hold back his ejaculation. He wasn’t ready to come yet. This was getting too good.
He put both of her legs up on his shoulders and stroked her deeply. “Damn!” she exclaimed, and Ishmael knew just how she felt. He had been with many women in his lifetime but could not ever recall a woman who made him feel like this. Suddenly, she pushed him off of her, catching him completely off guard. Before he could protest, Robin pushed him onto his back and straddled him, plunging his ten inches deep inside her as she rode him. Her hips swiveling like a belly dancer, she worked him into a frenzy until he couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed her by her hips to get her to slow her pace before he came too soon. Robin looked into his eyes and smiled.
Ishmael smiled back, pulled her close, and kissed her passionately. He was beginning to wonder if he had met his match. Robin smiled once more. “Can’t take it?” she asked with a smirk, still grinding her hips but slower this time.
Ishmael liked a challenge. “I can take it,” he assured her.
Robin wanted him to prove it. She began to ride him once again with the same intensity as she had moments
prior, and Ishmael did all he could to hold back. He didn’t want to give her the benefit of knowing how she had him. He bit his lower lip, willing himself to hold back his orgasm. Noticing this, Robin began to bounce up and down on his dick, her breasts jiggling enticingly. Ishmael reached for them and stroked her nipples and then he felt it. He couldn’t hold it any longer.
“I’m gonna come!” he roared, wrapping his arms around her waist and thrusting himself deeper inside of her. She could feel him exploding within her and she clung to him breathlessly. The two of them lay together afterward, breathing heavily and reveling in the feeling. Silently Robin leaned over and kissed Ishmael’s luscious lips. Then she sat up and slowly walked to the bathroom, her legs feeling like spaghetti.
Ishmael heard Robin turn the shower on and he lay there, dazed. She had been blowing his mind for two straight nights, and each time was better than the last. He felt weak and had never felt that way after sex before. Usually he felt energized and ready for more. But not with Robin. She took all that he had and then some!
When she came out of the bathroom, she strolled over to the bed naked and he watched her. She bent over and picked up her clothes and began to get dressed. Ishmael immediately protested.
“You don’t have to leave so soon,” he said. “It’s not like I got shit to do, and your son is with your sister, so—” He
caught himself sounding like a bitch and cleared his throat. “I’m just saying if you don’t want to go I’m not forcing you to.”
Robin nodded. “I wish I could stay,” she said. “But I have a paper to hand in tomorrow and I have to finish it.” She pulled her T-shirt over her head and leaned over to kiss Ishmael on his soft lips. “I’ll call you when I get off work tomorrow.”
Ishmael nodded, wanting her to stay but not wanting to beg. He watched her slip her feet into her Coach sneakers and waved at her as she walked out the door. When she was gone, he asked himself what had come over him. Robin was making him weak.
Ishmael sat up in bed and looked around the room. They had made love with such intensity that the room was a mess, the lamp was knocked over, and the condom had broken. He smiled at the memory. Robin was one hell of a woman.
He stood up and stretched and then walked over to his computer. He needed to stop thinking about her, since she seemed to invade his thoughts more and more each day. He hadn’t been back to the home he shared with Nina since their fight at Charly’s shop. Nina had shown him such an ugly side of herself that he no longer looked at her the same way. When he had first gotten with her, what he’d loved about her was her softness, her disdain for drama, and her independence. Those things were gone now, and he was
turned off. He logged onto the Internet and checked out his e-mail messages—nothing important besides a few e-mails from former coworkers and some party invitations. He thought about Robin once again, wondering when was the last time she’d been out to a party, and then he chastised himself for even caring. His relationship with her was physical, nothing more. After all, she had a child and Ishmael wasn’t eager to get involved with someone who had a kid. What he needed was some time to be a single man again—no commitments, no responsibilities to anyone but himself. He went to his MySpace page and immediately smiled. He read Celeste’s message, reached for his cell phone, and dialed her number.
Celeste was just getting into work two hours late after her overnight date with Bryson. Her cell phone rang as she slipped into her office and shut the door. She kicked off her Jessica Simpson heels, trotted over to her desk, and picked up the call. “Hello?” she answered.
“If you miss me, then why did you leave without saying good-bye?” Ishmael asked, a smile still plastered on his face.
Celeste stopped dead in her tracks and felt her heartbeat quicken. She had wondered if he would actually call her, but she certainly hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. “Ishmael?” she asked, although she knew that it was him.
“Yeah, it’s me. What’s good, Celeste? Damn, it’s been a long time since I heard your voice.”
She sat down at her desk and crossed her legs. “I know,”
she said. “What made you look for me on the Internet? I figured you forgot about me a long time ago with all those women in New York to keep you company.” She wasn’t joking. She knew that Ishmael was a notorious ladies’ man. Although they’d shared an unquestionable chemistry, she figured that in the years since she’d left both Ishmael and Rah-lo had surely moved on.
Ishmael let her know that she was mistaken about both of them. “Nah, I could never forget about you,” he said. “Neither could Rah-lo, apparently. I hear he’s on his way to find you.”
Celeste gripped the phone tighter. “Find me? What are you talking about?”
Ishmael walked away from his computer and went and stretched out across his bed. “He left Asia and I haven’t heard from him in days. Asia’s been calling me off the hook trying to get me to tell her where he went, but Rah-lo hasn’t told me shit. I keep ignoring her phone calls and she keeps leaving me these long messages telling me that he left her to run off and find you and that she ain’t giving him up without a fight, yada yada.”
Celeste couldn’t believe her ears. “You’ve gotta be kidding. Why would he think he could just come and find me after all these years? I moved on with my life. I’m not going backward.”
“Not even for me?” Ishmael said it without thinking about it.
Celeste didn’t answer right away. She frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”
Ishmael wasn’t sure what he meant. But he knew that Celeste held a very special place in his heart. “I mean you don’t have room in your new life for an old friend like me?”
She smiled. “Well, obviously I do. I gave you my phone number after all.” She knew that Keisha had actually sent him her phone number, but Ishmael didn’t need to know that. “But getting back to your boy,” she said. “Where is he supposedly looking for me? He didn’t come down here to Atlanta, did he? He must be crazy to think he can find me that easily. This isn’t such a small town.” Celeste searched her memory for ways that Rah-lo could find her. She had been careful not to reveal her whereabouts before she left town. And she hadn’t been in touch with any of their old crew since she left.
Ishmael shook his head. “I don’t know. All I know is what Asia said. And I haven’t heard from him in days, so he’s definitely up to something.” Ishmael didn’t want to talk about Rah-lo anymore. His loyalty to his childhood friend had begun to wane. Now that Rah-lo had all but disappeared, leaving Ishmael to pick up the pieces and carry on their business, he knew that it was time for him to branch out for good. While Rah-lo was out chasing Celeste, Ishmael got busy chasing paper. And to add insult to injury, he had gotten to Celeste first. In Ishmael’s mind, Rah-lo had blown his chance with her. Now there was nothing standing
in the way of Ishmael connecting with Celeste on a more intimate level—or so he hoped.
“You got a man?” he asked.
Celeste logged onto her computer and thought about Bryson and the wonderful time she had with him last night. “Nope,” she said. “But I’m not looking for one, either.”
Ishmael laughed. “I hear that.”
For close to half an hour they talked like old friends and caught up on each other’s lives. Celeste was shocked to learn that Ishmael had been with Nina since the last time they’d spoken years prior.
“Nina? What made you get with her? She never really seemed like your type.” Celeste wondered why she was so bothered by this revelation.
“So what’s my type?” he asked.
“I don’t know. But not Nina. I would’ve expected you to be bored with her by now.”
Ishmael laughed, wondering if Celeste knew how right she was. “Well, it’s about to be over between me and her. She’s been bugging out lately.” He recounted Nina’s encounter with Charly and subsequent confrontation with Robin.
Celeste sighed. She didn’t miss that type of drama at all. When Celeste had first met Charly—in a hair supply store in Staten Island—the two of them had become friends. Celeste thought Charly was fun and witty. When Rah-lo gave Celeste Dime Piece, she had brought Charly on board as one of
the stylists. It was then, working with her closely every day of the week, that Celeste began to see how much trouble Charly really was. When Nina applied for a job as a stylist, she and Charly had clashed almost instantly. Robin had been a good addition to the team because she was always desperate to avoid beef and bullshit. That is, until Ishmael came in the shop and set all three of them at one another’s throats.
“See?” Celeste said. “That’s the shit I had to get away from. All three of them are nothing but trouble.”
“Robin’s not so bad,” Ishmael said, defending her. “But those other two are a handful.”
Celeste thought she detected affection in Ishmael’s voice when he mentioned Robin. “Are you still screwing all of them?” Celeste asked.
Ishmael laughed. “Nah,” he said. After all, he hadn’t slept with Charly in years. Two out of three was better than all of them. “I’m a changed man.”
Now it was Celeste’s turn to laugh. “Yeah, right!”
Before she knew it, an hour had passed and Celeste was terribly backed up with work. Then she saw her second line ringing and she recognized Bryson’s number. She smiled. “Ish, I have to go,” she said. “I’m late for a meeting. Can I call you another time?”
Ishmael sucked his teeth. “What kind of meeting do you have on a Friday afternoon?” He shook his head. “Don’t play with me. Your man is there or something? He’s on the phone? I know you got a man.” Ishmael was smiling, teasing
her, and he knew she hated that he knew her so well. “What’s his name?”
Celeste chuckled. Ishmael had seen right through her white lie. “His name is Bryson and I just had my first date with him last night. I like him, though.”
Ishmael smiled. “Bryson? What is he, a politician or something? Does he wear slacks and penny loafers?” he teased.
“Okay, I’m hanging up now,” she said.
“All right, all right. I didn’t mean to make fun of ole boy. He’s probably very nice. But I thought you said you didn’t have a man.”
“He’s not my man. It was just a date.”
“So when can I call you back? It’s twelve o’clock, so your little lunch date should be over by one—”
“Excuse you! Since when do you decide how long my dates should be?” Celeste couldn’t help smiling. Ishmael was still overprotective of her after all this time.
“Don’t make me fly down there,” he said, hoping she would extend an invitation for him to do just that.
Celeste almost did just that but thought better of it. “Well, if Rah-lo brings his ass down here you may need to come and get him so I don’t have to shut him down. Seriously, Ish, tell him that I left that part of my life behind. I don’t want to be caught in a love triangle anymore. He’s not ready to leave Asia and I’ve outgrown all that shit, for real.”
Ishmael hoped she hadn’t outgrown her attraction to
him, too. “I understand.” He hesitated, wondering if he should say what was on his mind. Throwing caution to the wind, he went for it. “Yo, I might have to come down there next week to do some business and shit,” he said. “Why don’t you let me stay at your house so I don’t have to pay for a hotel?”
Celeste held the phone, speechless. Was he serious?
“You can say no,” he told her. “Your silence is making me feel bad.”
Celeste laughed. “I’m sorry. You just caught me off guard with that one. I mean … yeah, I guess so. I don’t see why that would be a problem.” She frowned, suddenly wondering if this was all a setup. “Ish, did Rah-lo put you up to this? ’Cuz if you’re trying to find out where I live so that you can tell him—”
“Nah!” Ishmael asserted, slightly offended. “I see you still think I’m one of Rah-lo’s soldiers.”
“I’m not saying that, Ishmael.”
“It’s all right. I guess the last time we saw each other that’s exactly what I was. But a lot has changed since then. I’m doing my own thing now,” he said. “Rah-lo will always be my boy, but I get money by myself. And I don’t do his dirty work anymore. He handles his business and I handle mine.” Ishmael knew even as he said it that he wasn’t telling the whole truth. Rah-lo had no clue that Ishmael had gone into business for himself, and Ishmael preferred it that way for the time being. He and Rah-lo
had established a very successful hustle together. Ishmael didn’t want to fuck that up. Instead, he would get money on the side to supplement his income until his own client base grew larger. The last thing he wanted was to piss Rah-lo off.
Celeste bit her lip, wondering what she should do. “All right then. Yeah, you can stay with me if you want to.” She wondered why her heart was racing at the mere thought of it. “Just make sure your boy don’t find out. I don’t want to see him, Ish.” It might be hard for her to resist the urge to do all the things she had fantasized about doing to Ishmael once upon a time. But she thought she was up to the challenge. Rah-lo, on the other hand, was not so easy. Celeste feared that if she saw him again she would fall back in love, and that was the last thing she wanted.
Ishmael smiled, happy that she had said yes. Seeing Celeste again was exactly the change of pace he needed in his life. “I got you,” he said. “I’ll call you tomorrow so you can give me all the info so I can come down there.”
They ended their conversation, promising to talk again tomorrow. When she hung up the phone, Celeste thought about all that he had said. Was Rah-lo really looking for her? Had he really left Asia? As Celeste got to work, she wondered why part of her—deep down inside—felt hopeful that Rah-lo would indeed come looking for her. She wanted to believe that she was over him, but deep down she knew that wasn’t the case. And what about Ishmael coming to visit?
She wondered what his true intentions were. She reasoned that it would be nice for the two of them to catch up as old friends. After all, all they had ever been was friends. So she questioned herself as to why her heart was galloping in her chest at the mere thought of seeing him again.