Free I'm Still Wifey by Kiki Swinson Page A

must’ve been working it.
    Now once I stepped foot in Syncere’s Range, Nikki immediately introduced me to him and his friend whom I sat next to in the back seat.
    “Syncere and Mark, this is my favorite cousin Kira. Kira, this is my boo, Syncere, and his friend, Mark,” she said.
    We all spoke to each other in unison. And once Syncere got us on the highway, conversation time for Mark and I started up, even though Nikki and Syncere couldn’t hear us. They were too busy up front talking over the blazing sounds of a Funkmaster Flex mix tape.
    “You look real nice,” Mark complimented.
    “Thanks. And you don’t look bad yourself,” I replied as I began to admire his white-ass teeth. I mean, damn! Has he ever missed a dental appointment?
    “And thank you,” he said. “So, whatcha trying to cop at Pentagon City today?”
    I smiled and said, “I don’t know. But I could stand to get another Charles David handbag or a new pair of Bottega Veneta boots for the fall.”
    “You got cheese like that?”
    “Nope. But I’ve got plastic,” I told him.
    “Well, maybe you won’t have to use it.”
    “And what are my chances?”
    “I can’t say.”
    “And why not?”
    “Because it all depends on what happens from now until we get there.”
    “So what, I’ve got to be on my best behavior?”
    “No. I just want you to be yourself. Now, will that be hard?”
    “Well, that won’t be hard at all because I’m always being myself. I can’t see it any other way.”
    “So, where’s your man?”
    “I don’t have one. But, I am on the verge of getting a divorce.”
    “Do you have any kids?” Mark wanted to know.
    “No,” I replied, refusing to let on that I was six weeks pregnant. “Do you?” I switched the question around to get the spotlight off me.
    “No, I sho’ don’t.”
    “How old are you?”
    “Thirty-one.”
    “Thirty-one! And you don’t have any kids,” I responded like I was surprised.
    “Not that I know of.”
    “But you do have a woman, right?”
    “Yeah, I got one.”
    “So, where is she now?”
    “Probably at work.”
    “What does she do?”
    “She goes to college.”
    “Which one?”
    “Rutgers.”
    “Oh, so you live in New Jersey?”
    “Sometimes.”
    “And where are you when you’re not in Jersey?”
    “I’m here with my peoples.”
    “Who, Syncere?”
    “Yep.”
    “So, how long have you and your girl been together?”
    “For about two years.”
    “Is y’all relationship serious?”
    “It’s what it is.”
    “And what does that mean?”
    “It just means that we’re together today. Who knows what tomorrow brings?”
    “Oh, so you’re on it like that?”
    “I’m just living life, sweetheart. That’s all,” Mark told me in a sexy but roughneck kind of way, which turned me the fuck on. I mean, here I am, sitting next to this fly-ass nigga who appears to have a little bit of dough, and he just told me that he has a girl back home in New Jersey. Now, how gangsta is that? Because he could’ve lied. But he didn’t. So I guess what they say is true: Women are always attracted to cats who already got wives or girlfriends at home. And I didn’t get that from the Hustler’s Manual, either.
    So tell me, who wants to be with someone that nobody else wants? Which is why I’m just now realizing why I couldn’t beat all of Ricky’s hoes off with a stick. So if this cat right here got all the ingredients I like, then we can probably get into something. Shit! Who says he’s got to be my man? I don’t.
    ***
    Our trip to Pentagon City didn’t last long at all. All of a sudden, Syncere gets a fucking phone call while we were in Macy’s, so we had to cut everything short. Nikki and I did manage to leave with two hot-ass handbags. Syncere copped her one by Salvatore Ferragamo and my new friend Mark copped me one by Charles David. He even let me throw in a belt because I agreed to go out with him tonight. I thought it was a fair exchange. And he did, too.
    Now after we