Tags:
Fiction,
General,
Romance,
Contemporary,
Domestic Fiction,
Love Stories,
Contemporary Women,
Adultery,
African American,
African American women,
Married Women,
Triangles (Interpersonal relations)
door yelled, jiggling the door handle.
âItâs just the maid,â I said, breathing a sigh of relief. âLet me get rid of her.â I didnât wait for Wade to respond. I laid the phone on the bed and put on the sunglasses and the cap. Then I cracked open the door and peered into the tired moon face of a woman who reminded me of my beloved late godmother. I had to blink back a tear that was threatening to slide out. My godmother had not been dead that long, but I got emotional every time I thought about her or saw somebody who resembled her. I smiled as I looked over the maidâs shoulder.
âHousekeeping,â the woman said again, nodding toward the room, trying to look over my shoulder. She could glimpse just enough of me to see that I was wrapped up in the bedspread. From the smirk on her face, something told me that she assumed I was one of the hookers.
âUm, I donât need any service today,â I said quickly. She seemed relieved to hear that. âAs a matter of fact, I wonât be needing any housekeeping services any other day, either. Iâll be checking out on Friday,â I said hopefully.
âNo towels, toilet paper?â the maid asked, still trying to look over my shoulder.
âNo,â I said, shaking my head and trying to shut the door. âI have enough toilet paper, towels, and everything else. I brought my own soap, so you donât even have to worry about that, either.â The maid had a puzzled look on her face as I shut and locked the door, securing it with the dead bolt and the chain. I stood with my back against the door until I heard her knock on the door of the room next to mine.
âIâm back,â I said, picking up the phone. âI got rid of her.â
âDonât you open that door no more,â Wade hollered.
âIt was just the maid,â I hollered back. âIf I hadnât opened the door, she would have entered the room. What was I supposed to do? I got rid of her for the rest of the week.â
âJust donât open that door no more. Do you hear me? I ainât going to jail for you or nobody else.â
CHAPTER 12
J ail was the last place I wanted to be. I tried not to even think along those lines. And, it made me angry when Wade brought it up.
âCan we get down to business? Iâm naked and smelling like hell, and I want to take a shower. Now what is the deal with Jesse Ray?â I barked. I wanted to make sure that Wade knew I was angry and impatient.
âI told him Iâd call him again so I could prove that you are still alive. In the meantime, Jasonâs going to make sure he sees them pictures we took first.â
I didnât like to think about the pictures Iâd posed for. I had been hoping that we would not have to show them to my husband. As strange as it seemed, even to me, I wanted to make this monkey business as painless as possible for Jesse Ray. But I knew it was going to hurt him like hell to part with half a million dollars. That part couldnât be helped. Besides, I was in a lot of pain myself and had been for a long time. And, the money from Jesse Ray was the only thing I knew of that could ease my pain.
And, speaking of pictures, yesterday was not the only time that Iâd posed for pictures for Wade. One night a few months ago, in a room at the Marriottâpaid for with one of my credit cards at thatâIâd allowed Wade to take some Polaroids of me. Not a few head shots of me grinning into the camera like a drunken fool, but shots that were so sexually explicit that I could only stand to look at them that one time. Even though I looked much younger in each picture, and in a couple, I didnât even look like myself.
That same night Wade made a video of us making love. I had protested and tried to get out of doing that, too, but after heâd plied me with about a gallon of wine, I became putty in his hands. Heâd whined and pouted so