Chardonnay: A Novel Page 13
“Fuck!” he said in suspense, releasing his alcoholic halitosis. I moved my face a bit from the direction of his mouth.
“What’s your name baby boy?”
“Rason. Would you like to get an extra two grand and just…dance alone with me and my boy Jalen over there?”
I looked over at the guy in reference to and shook my head no.
He looked cute, but rough and studied me like I was a piece of well marinated KC Masterpiece steak.
“Come on, ma. Don’t be like that. We ain’t gone bite.”
“Uht uhn.We staying right here.”
He grabbed me and pulled my hips into his face. I gasped as he slipped his smoked out finger tips under the G-string I had on. I recalled Zasmyth saying that my clothes wouldn’t come off but Rason saw different for me. He reached for my head and whispered,
“That’s where I know you from...you dat bitch ass Myron dudes girl.”
I tensed up at the mention of his name and the acute appearance that he didn’t like him. Just before he pulled my white G-string down over my wide hips I heard my name called. I turned and who I saw could have shocked a thousand watts into my body. My body felt limp and I ran out the room past him. But all the men followed me out the room. As I ran I became cornered having to wait on the elevator. I couldn’t find the steps anywhere. I finally looked down and saw why I was being chased. My G-string was gone. Humiliated by this I continued to run as men huddled around me. Tears flushed my face. Before I could get away, the exact person I was running from was pushing through the crowd and took the shirt off his back and covered me. He picked me up and walked down the hallway and pushed the stair way doors open to seclude me from harm. I covered my face.
My life had crashed before me. My image. My innocence. As if he knew what was going through my mind he said,
“I don’t think ill of you.”
I looked into his gray eyes and he wiped the tears from my face. Jase attempted to carry me down the steps but then I remembered...no one else would carry me. I would stand on my own two feet. I pushed him away and ran down the stairs. He followed.
12
Scared of Fate
We hit the night air as he held the glass door of the lobby open for me. Jase didn’t speak a word as he pressed the key held door opener and unlocked the doors to his Maybach...his car alone made me feen him. I got in and tightened his shirt around my body.
“Too late for that.” he joked.
I cut my eyes so hard at him and he got right to the point,
“So you’re a stripper now.”
“NO! I did that as a favor for my friend.”
He pulled out a cigar from his glove compartment and licked it with his wet tongue...damn that turned me on.
“One hell of a favor. You could be doing more constructive things with your life. This here is not it.” he said placing the cigar in his mouth and starting his car. I sat my head back as he drove for what seemed like two seconds when he pulled up to a brick building down town that looked beaten and worn. He hopped out as I sat up and looked at him silly.
“I’m not getting out this car and going into that building with you.”
He nodded his head and went on in by himself. I waited five minutes before I jumped out and went around the front from the dark parking lot, following his trails.
I opened the door and to my astonishment, the place was gorgeous. The lobby floor was liquefied by the antic marble making it look as if it was flowing water. I walked along it and looked at the fresh flowers of Casablanca lilies and the antic molding along the walls and corners. The design of them reminded me of the gracious icing along the edges and corners of a birthday cake. When I reached the receptionist desk she looked me over and said,
“Fifth floor penthouse.”
His penthouse was a mere different than the lobby. The only difference was that his place was the color of mocha and cream and canvases were everywhere.
“I’m up here.” A voice traveled from above me.
I looked up and seen him looking over the balcony and to my surprise his penthouse was five stories high. I watched him come down the stairs and walk over to me as he slowly smoked his cigar. I coughed and said,
“Those things will kill you.”
“Not these... a new cigar to help smokers quit...It has helped.”
I glanced over him and went for the sofa. The art I saw looked like it could have been millions of dollars’ worth. One in particular caught my eye. It was a painting of a girl with gold long flowing hair that draped her naked body. Her features were sharply beautiful and her eyes were sad. She had a beautiful diamond necklace around her neck that had a huge black diamond hanging from it in her bosom. What really puzzled me was the fact that she looked keenly like me.
“You collect?” I asked knowing no coincidence could be so possible.
Jase smirked and said,
“No, I make.”
I nodded my head assuming so.
“They’re nice. So you’re an artist.”
“Merely. It’s a hobby.”
I raised an eyebrow and took into consideration that if I had a craft so brilliant, I would be at Juilliard.
“Wow. So...you drew that of me?”
He looked at the painting and shrugged his shoulders.
“I guess that could be you...”
I laughed and stood to walk over to it. Something about it struck me as weird. My hair was gold in the picture which was my natural hair color...this man has never saw my gold tresses. That and the picture being dated April 5, 2006.
“How did you know my hair was gold?”
“You keep suggesting that the drawing is you...I never said it was.” he smiled.
I side glanced at him coming to the conclusion that he’d seen me around the city before.
He gave me a narrowed look and said,
“I had a dream...and the girl in that dream looked a hell of a lot like you. I just can’t figure out if it was real or fake.” he took a seat on the edge of his chaise lounge. I looked at him suspiciously.
“You fucking with me...why?”
“That’s something I never do with a woman, at least not with her mind.” his hard glances made me shiver and feel weak.
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re precious?” he began.
I looked off at the lofty window to my left.
“Or that you make a room move when you take just one step?”
I looked down nervously and played with my hands.
“Jase, I don’t have it that great.”
“Who said you needed to? But what I can’t understand is why young women like you do this to yourself.”
“It’s nothing I’ve done to myself, and if it’s a good reason you’re looking for, it’s because guys like you! You’re just older with your game—but you’ve done this shit for years, so don’t front me.”
“Guys like me, huh? What kind of man do you think I am?”
“The player type. Hustler obviously,” I said waving my hand around at his lux life.
“Wow, we really need to get to know each other better, then. I’ve never been either.”
Jase put his quitter’s cigar out or whatever it was and walked over to me. He kneeled down and took my hands in his.
“I see so much potential in you. It—it’s like a light that flickers on when I see you that gloats promise.”
“I’m not sure what you are seeing but it’s all lights out honey.” I said getting up and letting go of his hold. He pulled my hips back to his middle and wrapped his arms around me. Calm came over us and his touch was indeed magnifying. But my pain, my distrust, my insecurity wouldn’t let him in much longer. I closed my eyes and pushed away.
“This is what you’ll do. You’ll pull me in and make me yours...your charm will be too strong to overcome and then...you’ll get used to me.”
For me to not know his expressions yet, the look he was giving me at the moment told me he was more than hurt. It had to b
e that I had offended him. I looked at him as he stood five feet away from me in his white T he rocked since he had to give me his GAP sweat shirt.
“I’m not that type of man. Although I know a lot of my homeboys are like that, my mother has always taught me to treat women with respect. Now if you give me a chance, I can show you,” I wanted Jase’s words to be true. He pulled me into him and began to whisper,
“Let me heal your wounds. I’ll show what a real man is and more.” His hardness press against my sensitivity. I had on four inch heels that made us stand face to face. I looked in his eyes and knew Jase would inevitably be my second love since in this moment I was half way there...falling in that mystical hole. But this time it was different. I wasn’t falling alone.
He was right there by my side kissing every inch of my body as he laid me down in his California king size bed.
“I’ll take care of you, Chardonnay. Just trust me,” his fingers ran through my hair,
“What do you wish or desire in a man? Or in life?”
I held a blank stare taking in the trickle of his fingertips going up the middle of my stomach. I exhaled and let out,
“I don’t know, but I think it’s you.” and then he sealed my wish with a kiss like a lacquered wax for a secret letter. We couldn’t stop. Our tongues intertwined compatibly and his stroke was strong yet gentle.
“You’re so beautiful,” he kept whispering as he explored me.
“So beautiful...”
When Jase took his clothes off I knew my face was flushed from the pure bashfulness I felt go through me. He was all grown ass man from his pecked out shoulders to his handsome feet...not to mention his middle. Everything was perfect and his skin was so supple, taut, and cinnamon that I could taste it. His ample back side made it easy to grasp hold when he mounted me gently. I fell deeper for this man as he looked in my eyes going in and out of me with a rhythmic groove to our panting breaths. It was as if he was going through me and dancing in my soul. I locked my grip onto his twisted locks of hair and let out a moan so full of finesse it felt as if I released years of imprisonment.
* * * *
Night’s soothing but unique sounds sung through the open terrace doors along with light winds in Jase’s massive master bedroom. I looked up at him as I lay on his chest, watching him silently sleep in a peace that I gave him an hour ago. I moved my hand along his lightly haired chest and closed my eyes tight trying to stop the tears. I could have this man...but he wasn’t mine to have. I rose from him slowly, careful not to awaken him.
His drained body never made a shift as I walked to the bath room, picking up his cordless land line. Flicking on the light or closing the door would have been deteriorating to my plan. So I sat on the golden stool and watched in the darkness from the bathroom, his movement, if any were to occur. I dialed the only person I felt I could rely on in this situation, not for advice but comfort. Konstance picked up her phone on the seventh ring (I was desperate) and answered,
“Who is this?”
“Me.” I said in a low and strained whisper.
“Nay?”
“Yeah, I—I need you to come get me.”
“From where?”
“On 9th and Main in some lofts...please!”
“Okay, but who’s number are you calling from? And I heard about your nasty ass!”
“Not now, okay!”
“Chardonnay...grandpa is dying.”
My heart stopped. Or it felt that way. I blinked as I looked at Jase lying stretched out in the bed. I knew he was sick but not that sick.
“Come get me...now.” I said in a sorrowful note.
* * * *
I didn’t know why but I couldn’t stay there in his arms. It may have been that I was tired of being dumped and I wanted to leave him before he left me. I wrote a note using a sticky pad he had hanging from his refrigerator and a pen I found strolled on the kitchen counter.
I wrote:
Jase,
I know you might be mad at me right now, but later on you will understand. You deserve someone that is better than me...I don’t even know where to begin with my life. I’m lost, but I think I found a little of me in you...
Thank you. I will always remember you.
Your hard to forget (smiles),
Chardonnay
I swiped tears away as I leaned my head up against the window in Konstance car as I now knew Jase was reading my good-bye note. Konstance touched my hand and asked,
“Nay, what’s the matter?”
“I just let a real good friend go.” I exhaled out.
“Who’s that? Fianna and Kat—”
“No, I don’t mean them...a guy.”
“Oh, the person’s place I just picked you up from? What’s his name?”
“Jase. He’s... a dream.” I chuckled out making my cheeks curve and gave way to the tear drops that rested on them. Konstance drove on, looking intrigued by a stranger to her I spoke of. Not twenty minutes later after me leaving his penthouse, my cell phone rung with his number on my screen. I pushed the end button and Konstance shook her head.
“Why don’t you want to talk to him? I saw him at that party and Nay the man got it goin’ on.”
“That’s the problem...I don’t deserve him. I’m just not ready yet.”
“I hope it’s not about Myron, if so, he’s moved on without thinking of you.”
I shrugged my shoulders. It was about Myron but in so many ways it wasn’t.
I heard the Sprint lady tell me I had one new message. Regrettably, I never planned to listen to it.
* * * *
I found little shelter at Konstance’s place since Denim was laying up in her parent’s home. Unfortunately Aunt Karmen and Uncle Bryant were on their way back since my grandfather’s condition had taken a turn for the worse. Our summer party was placed on hold until Konstance and I felt content about it all. I knew I wouldn’t be able to take refuge too long at her place so I spent the night and the next day, took a shower, borrowed one of her outfits and headed over to my parents’ home to face dirty laundry. Konstance parked her car five houses down from where my parents actually stayed. There were, without exaggeration, nearly fifty cars on the usually lonely tree line block courtesy of my family. I got out the car and noticed Myron’s gas guzzling Escalade parked in the garage. Before I could turn and make a get a way, Konstance pulled my arm and said,
“You have to see Pal Pal, Chardonnay. Don’t let Myron be the cause of that sorrow too.”
I moved a hair strand out my face and looked off at the house.
“He’s here to give his condolences; after all he grew up around Pal pal too.”
I let it go and went to face the people in that house. Some, who of which, I hadn’t seen in years. When I walked in, the house was filled with people. My Aunt Hattie Mae and Uncle Bryant were sitting on the couch when I walked in.
“Chardonnay! Girl look at you.” said My Aunt Hattie.
“Hi, what y’all doing here?”
“You sho’ look like one of those models.” said My Uncle Bryant.
“You ain’t heard? I guess not, you haven’t been home all weekend girl! Your Pal pal is in the hospital.”
I shook my head.
I walked on in the kitchen to find my mother, and guess who was with her. Myron. His eyes glanced over me with a subtle wanting and animosity. My mother never noticed me come into the kitchen as she babbled on about me, using slurs and slangs that I never heard form in her mouth or on her worse day. And she had a lot of those.
I stepped in the room with caution as I knew what kind of scene may play ahead once she became aware I was present.
“Hi.” Myron said turning away and placing his milk filled glass my mother had given to him down on the counter. I knew she had given it to him because for the last fifteen years she had been pouring Myron a glass of his favorite drink every time he came over. She turned her head slightly and swirled around,
“What are you doing here?”
“Hump! You running those tough streets thinking you can make it—I would think you were smart enough to check things on your own. No one told you to run away from this house—when you did that you no longer need be family!”
Myron stood back as she continued.
“I can’t stand to look at you! With your fast ass! Look at you! And you call yourself my daughter, leaving this man here with tears in his eyes because he loves you!”
People began to gather in the kitchen. I stared at the floor as she continued,
“You make me sick and to think I gave up everything to take care of—of the mess you’ve caused.” Her eyes were red and it was obvious she had been crying all night. My daddy rushed in the kitchen to try and calm things down but it was too late. I lounged after her and Myron pulled me back.
“I hate you!” I said crying as he restrained me.
“You have never loved me! My Pal Pal has been the only person to ever take up for me in this family and you know it!”
“Well I disown you!” she spat back.
“Daddy how could you let her do this!” I hollered at him.
Even he followed her rules.
“Baby—I —I’m sorry.” he tried to get out before my mother broke loose and began to throw fish in the frying pan naked.
“Stacey, baby those fish aren’t breaded.” he warned her.
“I know, we come in this world bare and innocent. Fish...the sign of life coming. Mare Davis brought these over this morning, before I had to call an ambulance for daddy. She said her husband caught too many. I knew then. They say, you dream about fish or they come at the crack of dawn. Someone’s dying and a new life will be born.”
My daddy rubbed my mother’s back as she shed tears. Gave her that rich, rare, unconditional love I had never seen except with them. They never saw my pain as I left out the kitchen. Myron followed. As much as I wanted to put him on blast in there I didn’t bother. She wouldn’t have ever believe me anyway. His image was too big to tear down.