Free Playing Dirty by Kiki Swinson

shot back. Then she leaned in toward me. “Come on now, I know you’ve been frolicking around with those fucking criminals you hang out with. It wouldn’t surprise me if you got pissy drunk and fell out smack-dab in the middle of the floor. Then one of Santana’s henchmen carried your ass up to the nearest bedroom and took advantage of your ass.”
    I gave her a half smile. “Yeah, right! That would never happen. I’m too classy for that type of shit. And besides, you know me well enough to know that I don’t fuck the help. Maybe Santana, but not one of his flunkies!”
    “Oh, so that’s who you were laid up with these last couple of days?”
    “Are you fucking kidding me?” I snapped.
    “Well, it must be true, because you are getting a little too defensive.”
    “I’m not getting defensive, I’m just a little tired.”
    “How was the party anyway?”
    “It was okay.” I tried to downplay it.
    “Somehow I find that hard to believe. So spill your guts and tell me how it really was.”
    “Look, I’m dealing with a lot right now. You could at least ask how I was doing before giving me the third degree,” I complained, quickly changing the subject, fidgeting with my keys.
    She sucked her teeth. “When have I ever asked you how you are doing?” she replied sarcastically. “We talk to each other damn near every day and that question never comes out of my mouth.”
    “Oh, fuck you, Maria!”
    “Please spare me with that nonsense,” she answered, softening her tone and scanning me, trying to probe with her eyes. I knew just how to play it off with her. I wasn’t about to let her look in my face for a long time. There was but so much makeup could hide.
    “You wanna do lunch?” she asked, already knowing the answer would be no.
    “Nah, I gotta go to the office. I got work to do. You saw what just happened,” I explained, getting myself out of going to lunch with her. If I was around her a second longer, she would definitely know I had gotten high.
    “Yeah, I was really surprised at Williger,” she replied.
    “That’s alright. I’ll get Judge Allen on the trial and it’ll be another Choo or Santana for me,” I confidently assured her as I began to walk away.
    “Look, don’t disappear again on me, bitch, or I’ll come get your ass,” she said jokingly, clearing the air between us. I was glad she gave up on her interrogation of my whereabouts. I hated to lie to her right to her face, but sometimes she left me no choice.
    “I won’t,” I assured her before I slid into my car. And right when I was about to pull away, she ran toward my car and stuck her head in the driver’s-side window.
    “Oh yeah, and stop fucking all of your clients and get some sleep. You look like shit! And besides, I know you don’t want to end up with a bad rep!” she said.
    Her words hit me right in the gut. I wondered if she knew something or if she was just joking. You never could tell with Maria. I gave her a halfhearted smile and I pulled out. She had said I looked like shit, and that was the first time she’d said that in years. Well, little did she know, I felt like shit as well. I had to get myself back on track. I called Ophelia on her cell phone and told her to get my valet ticket from my Marc Jacobs clutch and give it to the valet I’d given that huge tip to and tell him to retrieve my Aston Martin from the Panama nightclub. With that off my mind, I was ready to get down to business.

Out of My Comfort Zone
    T he very next day Maria begged me to come over to her house. So after work I hopped in my car and drove over there. She lived in a posh, new neighborhood next to Lake Cabbas. The homes here had to be in the neighborhood of $800,000 to $1 million. The only people I could imagine living out here were judges and high-level executives. I, on the other hand, wouldn’t be caught dead living out here. It reeked from the smell of family life and children running around in the streets on their fucking