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  “That’s just me. I thought it was normal and everybody did it. Especially for the person they love.”

  I lean in and kiss Quincy. Pulling and gently biting his bottom lip.

  “Boy, you’re about to get me started,” Quincy laughs and places my hand on his rising thick erection.

  “You are going to wear me out,” I say. “I need to start playing basketball with you so I can get my stamina up.”

  “Speaking of basketball, you’re still coming tomorrow afternoon?” Quincy asks.

  “Coming where?” I look at Quincy inquisitively. “Ashley and I are going down to SoHo to do some shopping and grab lunch.”

  “Our tournament is tomorrow, remember? You are supposed to come and watch me play.” Quincy props himself up on his elbows.

  “I thought the tournament was next week.” I put my hands behind my head.

  “No, it’s tomorrow,” Quincy says. “Your age is starting to show. You need some ginkgo biloba.” He laughs out loud.

  I thrust the pillow from beneath me and hit him with it. “You love my old ass.”

  “Of course I do. If I didn’t like it, then I wouldn’t have put a ring on it,” Quincy sings.

  “Oh, so now you think you’re Beyoncé?”

  “Hey, I mean that is my girl.”

  “Well, how about that one about my love finally coming along?” I say.

  “Who is that?” Quincy screws up his face.

  “Etta James,” I say condescendingly.

  “Oh, you mean that old woman Beyoncé played in the movie Cadillac Records.”

  I shake my head. “Yes, the woman’s song Beyoncé sang for President Obama’s inauguration.”

  “Anyway.” Quincy climbed his naked body out of the bed and walked toward the bathroom. “Are you coming tomorrow to see me play? I am going to win us the championship.” Quincy pretends he’s dribbling a ball and throws his hands in the air as if he is shooting it into a basket.

  “Yeah, but I got to bring Ashley. She will kill me if I cancel on her.”

  “Bring her.” Quincy yells from the bathroom. “There will be lots of young boys there. She will have a good time.”

  I burst out laughing. In less than three months Quincy has already figured out Ashley and I didn’t even have to tell him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The next morning I awake to the wonderful smell of bacon, eggs, and pancakes wafting through my condo. I yawn and stretch my arms across the bed hoping to find Quincy, but smile, knowing he’s up and cooking.

  I rub my eyes and glance at the clock.

  It’s nine-fifteen.

  I’ve got to call Ashley and let her know there has been a change of plans. I know she is already up deciding on her costume and wig for the day.

  Just as I reach for my iPhone on the nightstand, Quincy saunters into the bedroom wearing only a white chef’s apron that says, Do The Cook.

  “Good morning,” he says, carrying a tray full of steaming food.

  “Good morning.” I smile. I sit up and hoist the pillows behind me against the headboard.

  Quincy places the tray on my lap. He leans in and kisses me on the forehead. “Breakfast in bed,” he says.

  “Thank you, baby.”

  I pick up the glass of orange juice and take a sip. I then take a strawberry and feed it to Quincy. He takes a bite and then kisses me on the mouth. I lick the juice from his full lips.

  “You better eat,” Quincy says as he turns and walks out of the room.

  “You’re not joining me?” I ask.

  “Yeah. I am going to get my tray. I’ll be back.”

  I take a bite of the pancakes that Quincy has topped with chopped bananas.

  Delicious.

  My man can cook.

  Damn it!

  Just as I am about to take another bite my cell phone rings.

  Speak of the devil.

  “Hey, Ashley,” I say. “I was just about to call you.”

  “Boy, I didn’t think you were going to answer the phone. I was ready to leave a message.”

  “Why wouldn’t I answer the phone?” I say in between bites of my eggs.

  “Quincy may have had your legs tied up in a knot over your head and behind your back.”

  “Ashley, you’re crazy.”

  “But, I’m telling the truth.”

  “Anyway,” I say, taking a sip of orange juice. “How would you like to go to a basketball game today instead of SoHo?”

  “Oh lawd,” Ashley says.

  “I forgot Quincy’s team is playing in a tournament this weekend. I promised him I would come. Besides, I have something I need to show you.” I hold up my hand that is showcasing my new diamond ring.

  “What do you have to show me?”

  “You’ll see.” I smile.

  “Chase, you are really wearing me out right now,” she huffs.

  “I guarantee you’ll love it.”

  “Whatever, Chase. And, why do I have to be dragged along to your commitment to your boyfriend?”

  “Come on, Ashley. There will be some young tenders at the game. And, you can meet some of Quincy’s friends.”

  Silence.

  Longer silence.

  “Hello? Ashley, are you there?” I ask.

  “What time does the game start?” Ashley asks, trying to sound irritated.

  I chuckle.

  “The game starts at two.”

  “Well, hell, that means I got to do a complete change. Boy, let me go and I will be at your house by one.”

  “Good-bye, Ashley. I’ll see you at one.”

  Chapter Twenty

  I hop in the shower after breakfast in bed with Quincy. He rushed out of the house to get to Brooklyn so he could warm up with his team. But, of course we had to get a quickie in before he left.

  Some foreplay.

  Some sucking.

  Stroking.

  And ejaculation.

  As I am coming out of the shower I hear my doorbell ringing.

  And ringing.

  And ringing.

  I wrap a towel around my waist and rush into the living room.

  “Hold on!” I yell. “I’m coming!”

  Quincy probably forgot his key again. He always runs out of the house and then minutes later he is ringing and knocking on the door for me to let him in.

  He talks about me needing some ginkgo biloba.

  He is the forgetful one.

  “You’re always forgetting your key,” I say as I open the door. “I am going to put it on a necklace so that…”

  And there he is.

  Standing tall.

  Regal.

  With a smirk on his face.

  Trent Campbell.

  “Hello, Chase,” Trent says. “I would have used my key, but it no longer works.” He holds up the key that once unlocked the door to our home.

  Our love shack.

  But, I changed the locks, babe.

  “So, are you going to invite me in?”

  I am standing in shock, dripping wet. My left hand gripping the towel wrapped around me.

  My right hand still holding the doorknob.

  Clinching it for dear life.

  Wanting to slam the door shut.

  But my heart is pounding.

  My body is tense.

  “Trent, hey, sure, come in,” I say. He waltzes past me. His cologne lingers under my nose. He still smells the same. His scent is undeniable. Tangy with a sharp sting but sweet and alluring.

  Trent makes his way to the sofa. I follow behind him.

  “So, I get no love?” Trent stretches his arms wide.

  I give him a half-hearted embrace. He pulls me closer. I resist and step back.

  “I’ll be right back,” I say, avoiding eye contact. “I just got out of the shower.”

  “You look great, Chase,” Trent says.

  “Thanks,” I say. “You look different.” His lean muscular frame is thinner. His mustache and goatee are missing. He’s clean-
shaven. His curly locks are thicker and longer.

  I dash into the bedroom scrambling to find my sweat pants.

  I can’t believe he is here.

  He just strolls in like he was just here yesterday.

  It’s been three years and he expects me to throw myself at him.

  He walked out.

  He left me.

  FUCK HIM!

  I come back into the living room and Trent is making his way toward the kitchen.

  “I see you changed things around.” He points toward the sofa and chair.

  “No,” I say. “You changed things around.”

  “You’re not happy to see me?” Trent asks.

  “I just was not expecting you. Why didn’t you call?”

  “I wanted to surprise you. And, I told you that I was coming home and wanted to see you.”

  “Yeah, but you should have called first. Coming unannounced…well, it’s not cool.” I make my way to the chair and sit.

  He would have gotten a big surprise if he would have arrived a little earlier.

  My new man, Quincy.

  “You’re making it seem like I am unwelcome.” Trent sits on the sofa across from me.

  “Hmmm,” I say.

  Every emotion and feeling I thought I would have seeing Trent after all this time.

  Nothing.

  Absolutely, nothing.

  Don’t feel a thing.

  Actually, I do feel something.

  “You know, Trent, three years ago, I was in love with you. I would have done anything for you. As a matter of fact, I did do anything for you. I gave my time, energy, and home to you. I let you in.” I point to my heart.

  “I appreciate that,” Trent says.

  “Oh, so, I should feel honored that you appreciate my love?”

  “Well, what else do you want me to say?”

  I stand and walk toward Trent. His eyes follow me.

  “You never apologized for the tacky and sorry-ass way you left me! You never once acknowledged me or my feelings.” I’m spitting my words at him like daggers.

  I wish they were.

  Trent stands and opens his mouth.

  I cut him off. “And you walk in here like I am supposed to forget everything as if it never happened.” I am standing directly in his face.

  Unmoved.

  Steeled.

  Defiant.

  Strong.

  “Chase, I am really sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Trent says and takes a few steps back. “The way I handled it was wrong, but it was the best way I knew how then. I am a different man today. The man you see right here in front of you is not that immature and selfish man. Africa has changed me.”

  “Good for you, Trent,” I say and walk toward the door and open it. “I’ve changed, too. And, I didn’t have to leave the country to figure that out.”

  Trent is staring at me with his mouth wide open.

  “I’m happy. I’m in love. I’ve moved on. And, so should you.” I wave him toward the open door.

  Trent slowly walks across the room. His face looks drained as if the blood has left him and already made it to the street.

  “I am very sorry,” Trent says as he stands in the doorway.

  “I am, too.” I slam the door.

  I look at my ring and smile.

  It feels good to be in love.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  “Oh my gosh! I can’t believe Trent just came to your house unannounced,” Ashley yells. We are in the back of the Lincoln sedan car service headed to Brooklyn. “That motherfucker got a lot of nerve. I wish I would have been there.” I stare at Ashley while she adjusts her short cropped blond wig on her head. “I would have given him a piece of my mind.”

  “You know what, Ashley? I didn’t feel anything for him. I thought seeing Trent would bring back all those old feelings. But it didn’t.”

  “Well, it’s about time you’re over that loser. Ugh! I don’t know what ever you saw in him anyway. I can’t stand them high-yellow light-skinned Negroes.” Ashley frowns. “Especially those with their pedigrees and letters after their names. They think they are better than everyone else. Negro, please! You still black just like me, and living on Park Avenue ain’t shit.” She sucks her teeth and then tugs at her large breasts spilling from her Yves St. Laurent T-shirt. She purposely ripped it down the front exposing her massive cleavage.

  “Ashley, what the hell do you have on?” I pull on her snug fitting T-shirt.

  “What? You don’t like my outfit?” She arches her back and pokes her chest out further.

  “You’re dressed like we’re going to a rap video. Those shorts can’t get any shorter. You’ll give everybody a full view of the moon.” I point to her ass cheeks peeking beneath the material.

  “Boy, this is the newest trend.”

  “Yeah, and you don’t need to be copying it. And, do you have on a bra?”

  “A bra?” Ashley snaps her head back. “It’s the summer. Who the hell wears a bra in this hundred-degree heat?”

  I put my head in my hands.

  “Lord, give me the strength,” I mumble.

  All of a sudden Ashley lets out a loud squeal. I jerk my head at her. The driver swerves and nearly sideswipes another car. He looks in the rearview mirror with wide eyes.

  “What’s wrong, Ashley?” I yell.

  “Boy, look at that diamond ring on your finger! That is some serious bling!”

  I laugh. “Girl, you scared me and the driver.” I point to his shocked reflection in the mirror.

  “Sorry, Mr. Driver,” Ashley purrs, licking her lips at him.

  The driver smiles and winks at her.

  That damn Ashley.

  “Quincy gave you that ring, didn’t he?” Ashley put her hand over her mouth.

  “Yeah. He gave it to me yesterday at work.”

  Ashley starts rocking back and forth and stomping her feet.

  “Girl, calm down,” I say, glancing at the driver, who is still looking at us in the rearview mirror.

  Well, he’s looking at Ashley’s jiggling breasts, which I swear are about to pop out if she bounces any harder.

  Ashley grabs my hand and thrusts it toward her face. She leans in and starts counting, “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven BIG-ASS DIAMONDS. You. Better. Work!” She waves her finger.

  A huge grin spreads across my face. “It’s serious, Ashley. We’ve moved a step further into our relationship.”

  “Boy, this is marriage. Quincy got you on lock!”

  I snatch my hand away. “We got each other on lock.”

  “I am so happy for you, Chase.” Ashley reaches over and gives me a hug. “This is what I am talking about. You got yourself a keeper. See, I told you about them young boys. But, naw, you didn’t want to listen to me.”

  “Okay, okay,” I laugh. “Yes, you were right. Yes, I should have listened to you a long time ago. But, I wasn’t ready. You know me, Ashley. I am a little slow. Old-fashioned.”

  “Well, it’s a new decade and century. You better keep up and get with the program.” Ashley snaps her fingers. “The days of sitting on the porch and talking all night are over. It’s all about get it, hit it, and if it’s good, then keep it.”

  “I’m learning. But I’m still taking it slow,” I say. “I’m taking my old-fashioned ways with me.”

  “Okay, Mr. Old Fogey. But when we get to Brooklyn you better make sure Quincy introduces me to all his friends.”

  “Let me find out you’re trying to get a diamond ring.” I lift my hand and wave it in Ashley’s face.

  “Hell naw! I don’t need a ring. Just some good steady dick.”

  Ashley and I burst out laughing.

  Along with the driver.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  When we arrive in Brooklyn, at Prospect Park, an enormous crowd has already gathered. It looks as if all of Brooklyn is at the basketball court.

  Hood dudes with their fresh white sneakers. Printed T-shirts and sagging sh
orts. Profiling and mean-mugging the outsiders. Giving fist pounds and daps to their boys.

  Fab ghetto girls with their too-tight blouses and short shorts. It looks like every girl got the memo to rock the ass cutters with their Christian Louboutin heels and oversized purses. Door-knocker earrings dangling from their ears. And, every chick had hair—black, blond, red, auburn, chocolate, and platinum.

  Yes, this was Brooklyn.

  In the summertime.

  I missed it sometimes.

  Late night parties on Eastern Parkway.

  Caribbean music blaring.

  Jamaicans.

  Haitians.

  Guyanese.

  Barbadians.

  The island people represent with their thick accents and thick bodies.

  It’s hard to miss them strutting down the ave in their bright colorful clothes—red, yellow, orange, and green.

  Rainbows on the streets.

  Then there is Junior’s Restaurant downtown.

  The smell of cheesecake stirs in your stomach.

  Yeah, if I could get away with making one of my interns walk from midtown Manhattan to downtown Brooklyn for a slice of cheesecake with strawberries, I would do it.

  Who Wants to Work for Chase?

  Ashley and I make our way through the crowd. Squeezing and sliding through bodies and bodies of dark, brown, and yellow skin waiting for the tournament to begin.

  As we get closer to the court music is thumping from the huge speakers surrounding the basketball court. The deejay has the crowd rocking and bopping. Heads are nodding and people are reciting the rhymes filtering the air.

  Then the sounds of Brooklyn’s own infamous Queen Bee comes blaring through the speakers, singing about not being afraid of the dick anymore.

  Ashley throws her hands in the air, waving them back and forth. She starts pumping her way through the crowd in her five-inch Christian Louboutin heels, chanting the lyrics.

  A line of girls follow suit, waving their hands in the air and dipping their asses low to the ground.

  The guys start hooting and hollering. “Go ’head, baby girl! Rock that shit!”

  My mouth falls open.

  I stare at Ashley in disbelief. She is shaking her shoulders, winding her ass with her cheeks winking as she twirls from side to side.