“Yes, Stephen, I saw it,” Cheryl said wearily into the telephone.
“I’m only saying, that little skank has probably spent more of young country boy’s money in a month than you spent in the eight months you were married.”
“We’re still married, Stephen, remember?”
“I’m not the one who needs to be reminded, honey,” Stephen said with an attitude. “Someone should let young country boy know married men shouldn’t be going around buying yachts, and naming them after their girlfriends.”
“Yeah, I heard about that, too,” Cheryl admitted.
“I bet you did. Especially since it was splashed all over Page Six of The New York Post when Sexy hosted a birthday party for some no-name rapper and the police had to be called because someone started shooting off more than their mouths.” Stephen laughed. “Can you believe they’re going to have to start putting metal detectors on yachts now?”
“Only yachts that Sexy gives parties on.” Cheryl sighed and added: “Mila told me she ran into the little skank at Tiffany’s. She was trying on a diamond necklace, but as soon as she saw Mila, she made a point of loudly telling the clerk that her fiancé would be stopping by in a few weeks to pick out an engagement ring.”
“No!” Stephen exclaimed.
“Oh, yes.” Cheryl examined her fingernails, noting it was time for another manicure. “Then she set aside five rings to show ‘Mr. Randall Alston, the famous third baseman for the New York Yankees,’ and then sashayed out the door without saying a word to Mila.”
“Well, one thing you’ve got to give her, the girl got swag.” Stephen laughed.
“Shit, the one thing I want to give her is a good swift kick in the ass,” Cheryl retorted.
“But really, Cheryl, on a serious tip—what exactly do you think you’ll get in the divorce settlement? You said there’s no pre-nup in place, so I’m going to assume you’re going to take him to the cleaners. The idiot is making it quite easy for you to do so, with him flaunting Sexy all over the place.”
“Who said there’s going to be a divorce settlement?” Cheryl said nonchalantly.
“What? Girl, don’t make me run over there and slap you,” Stephen said indignantly. “You are not telling me you’re not going to get even a little something out this deal. You gotta get at least a couple of million. Shit, he signed that big endorsement deal with Coke, and then the Nike thirty-five-million-dollar deal. Don’t be stupid!”
“Girl, please. If there’s one thing I’m not, it’s stupid.” Cheryl rolled her eyes. “But I’m only saying there may not be a divorce settlement, because there might not be a divorce.”
“What???”
“I’m only saying you never know,” Cheryl said with a smile.
“Okay, spill it!” Stephen demanded. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Only that I occasionally get a call around two a.m. from a blocked number, and when I pick up the phone, there’s only music playing in the background.”
“And you think it’s Randy?” Stephen asked breathlessly.
“I know it is,” Cheryl said smugly. “The music playing is always the same song, Usher’s ‘Here I Stand.’ The same song that was playing the day Randy and I met.”
“Oh, my God,” Stephen gushed. “And on your wedding day. That’s so romantic!”
Cheryl was about to say something, but was interrupted by a buzzing sound. “Stephen, I gotta go.”
“But—”
“Love ya!” Cheryl hung up, and walked into the bathroom and turned off the battery-powered time setting on top of the toilet seat, then picked up the white strip next to it. Looking at the blue plus sign in the little round window, Cheryl smiled and said:
“Bingo!”
It had to have happened that last night they’d spent together, when their lovemaking was exactly that . . . lovemaking. Cheryl felt warm all over simply thinking about the quiet passion they shared, and the way Randy had slowly kissed her over and over, telling her how much he loved her. What a wonderful night to have conceived a child. Tears sprang to Cheryl’s eyes as she rubbed her still-flat belly. Sexy had better enjoy the money and fame that came with being Randy’s side chick while she could because that bitch’s days were numbered.