Crossroads Page 3

  “Is it? I’m real behind in his books. I think the last one I read was Chasing Destiny.”

  “Well, this is a series around a hit man. They are really good books, but I suggest reading them in order. That’s the first one.”

  Cooley nodded her head. “Well, then I guess I will take your advice,

  “Great.” The girl smiled as she walked behind the counter.

  Cooley picked up a box of Dentyne Icebreakers and a PowerAde. The girl began to ring her purchase up.

  “So tell me, Chasity,” Cooley said after reading her nametag. “How can a person go about getting to know you better?”

  Chasity looked up, her face covered with surprise. “Um, excuse me?”

  Cooley was confused. She knew the girl was flirting with her, or was she? “I was just wondering how a person can get to know you better. You seem to really know your fiction and I could use—”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I doubt my boyfriend would like that.” Chasity quickly put the items in a bag and handed Cooley her credit card and bag.

  Dumbfounded, Cooley took the items and walked out the store. Cooley wasn’t used to rejection. The girl was cute, but she wasn’t all that. Usually Cooley could have pulled her with little effort at all.

  Cooley walked into the women’s bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror and gasped. It all came back to her. The large scar crossing her left cheek, mostly healed but still with a brown scab over it. No wonder, Cooley thought to herself. She pulled out her small tube of Neosporin and dabbed a little on the ugly mark.

  Cooley grabbed a bite to eat and made her way back to her gate. More passengers had shown up, the dusty traveling couple still sprawled over the chairs. She took a seat and pulled out her iPod and headphones. She scrolled through the playlist section, trying to find the right playlist to fit her mood.

  “This is our gate.”

  The familiar voice sent chills down Cooley’s spine. She looked up to see Misha walking toward her gate, and next to her was Patrick, the man who not only stole Misha away, but impregnated her in the process.

  Misha’s and Cooley’s eyes met. Patrick looked at Cooley, his smile turning into a glowering stare.

  Misha looked as though she had seen a ghost. She looked at Patrick and whispered something to him.

  His face didn’t change; he nodded his head and stood in the same spot like a tall bodyguard as Misha walked over to Cooley.

  “I thought you were already gone,” Misha said as she got closer.

  “Missed my flight. So we are on the same flight, I see.”

  Misha sighed “I guess so. Look, I just wanted to make sure everything was—”

  “Misha, you don’t have to say anything. Just go be wit’ ya boy before his head explodes.”

  Misha looked back at Patrick, still standing in the same spot, staring at them. Cooley looked at Patrick. She couldn’t figure it out. He was wearing a pair of khaki board shorts and a yellow graphic tee from American Eagle and a pair of sandals. Nothing about him seemed special. Cooley knew her designer jeans and shirt were ten times better-looking than what he had on. Cooley dressed fly whenever she left the house. Just because she was going to be on a plane was no reason to not look good.

  Patrick, on the other hand, looked like he had rolled right out of bed and headed to the airport. He didn’t look like he belonged next to Misha, who was dressed in a cute pair of shorts and a white blouse that hung off of her shoulders.

  “So are we cool?” Misha asked.

  Cooley tried to not focus on how beautiful Misha was. Her smooth brown skin had a glow to it. Her long, thick, black hair bounced with any slight movement.

  “We’re cool.” Cooley realized she was completely focused on Misha. She noticed Misha’s eyes glance in the direction of her right cheek. Cooley’s body tensed, and she turned her head.

  “I see it’s looking a lot better.” Misha could feel Cooley’s uneasiness. She suddenly wished she didn’t say anything. “Well, um, I guess we will see each other around? Maybe we can have a bite in Atlanta sometime ...”

  Cooley shook her head and gave Misha a sardonic smile. “Riiiightttt, maybe. Well, you better go be with your boy before he comes over here.” A piece of her wanted him to walk over. She wanted to get him back for the sucker punch he’d landed the day they met. She had never fought over a woman until that day at Misha’s dorm room. She made a vow never to do it again.

  Misha put her hand on her hip. Cooley’s nonchalant attitude always irritated her. “Cooley, I really want us to be friends.”

  Cooley felt her anger rising. In front of her was the woman she loved. Standing just a few feet behind Misha was the man she played her like a fool for. “Misha, I can’t do this right now. Maybe when I get over the fact that the woman I loved, the woman I was supposed to be with, is now with, and pregnant by some nigga. I’ll be able to talk, but not now. So can you please just leave me be?”

  Misha looked at Cooley, a pained look in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Carla. Take care of yourself.” Misha turned around and walked back to Patrick.

  They walked over and sat at the gate across from Cooley. Patrick put his arm around Misha. He glanced over at Cooley and smirked. Cooley wanted to jump up and beat his ass; instead, she picked her things up and moved to a chair facing the gate wall. The last thing she wanted to do was have Patrick flaunting his victory in her face.

  The last hour passed by quickly. Cooley boarded the plane and got comfortable in her first-class seat. She placed her book bag beneath her feet. As soon as she looked up, she found herself face to face with Misha and Patrick again. They stood there in silence while waiting on the line of people placing their bags in the overhead compartments to move.

  Misha looked down at Cooley. She mouthed the words “I’m sorry.”

  Straight-faced, Cooley put her headphones in her ears and opened her new book. The short flight to Atlanta was going to be the longest flight of her life.

  5

  Lena’s plane landed and began to coast to the gate. She had slept the rest of the flight. She looked over to see Terrin still reading her Ebony magazine. Lena glanced down at the page and gasped.

  “Can I see that?” Lena asked as she looked at the magazine.

  Terrin handed her the magazine.

  Lena couldn’t stop staring at Denise’s face. There she was, the woman she loved, standing in a picture with other top African American women basketball players. A small profile of Denise was on the next page along with profiles of each player. Her smile was radiant even on the page.

  Lena took a deep breath.

  “Know someone or something?” Terrin said, looking down at the magazine.

  “Yes, I do.” Lena couldn’t stop smiling.

  “Ohh. One of them must be your girl. Which one? Wait let me guess.” Terrin looked at the page. She pointed at Denise. “Chambers, isn’t it?”

  “How could you tell?”

  “Lucky guess, or maybe the fact that you were calling out to Dee in your sleep.”

  The plane stopped, and the door opened. People immediately began to get up and gather their items. Lena and Terrin stood up and headed out of the aircraft. The terminal was filled with passengers. Terrin and Lena walked toward baggage claim together.

  “So, you are doing it big, huh? Got you a basketball player.”

  Lena thought about Brandon, her pro basketball player, who was probably tossing her things out on the streets as they spoke. “I guess I have a thing for basketball players.” Lena instantly realized how she sounded when Terrin’s face dropped a bit. “I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t purposely look for ball players or anything.” Lena felt like she was having an outer body experience. “I really sound like a groupie right now. But it’s really not like—”

  Terrin laughed. “Let me stop you before you give yourself a heart attack. I knew what you meant the first time. No need to explain. A lot of women dig that tall, athletic look. Us shorter chicks get the shor
t end of the stick, literally.”

  Terrin and Lena laughed. Lena felt back at ease.

  Lena and Terrin finally reached the baggage claim area. Terrin turned around to Lena. “I know you are here for your girl, but I wouldn’t be me if I still didn’t try to get your number.”

  “Now you know that wouldn’t be right.”

  “So your ball player won’t let you have friends? Not a good sign in a relationship.” Terrin shook her head.

  Lena smiled. “It was really nice meeting you, Terrin.”

  Terrin shrugged her shoulders and smiled. “Well, in that case, it was nice meeting you, Lena. Maybe we will run into each other again one of these days, if Chambers doesn’t work out.”

  Terrin took a couple of steps backward then turned around. Lena watched her walk to the baggage area where the luggage was starting to circle around.

  Lena walked toward the front door. She noticed an ATM machine, thought about using her joint account but figured Brandon would be watching it. If she was in the same situation, she would have turned his access off by now. She remembered her emergency card, her American Express her father told her to never leave home without. She thought about her father. What would he think if he knew his princess left her Prince Charming to be with Cinderella? Lena shook her head, hoping to shake her uneasy feelings as well.

  Lena withdrew three hundred dollars and put it in her bag. She walked out the front door and headed to the taxi area. The assistant quickly got her a cab.

  The Middle Eastern driver looked at her via his rear-view mirror. “Where to?”

  Lena realized she had no idea where she was going.

  “Um, can you take me to Saks Fifth Avenue?”

  The driver nodded his head and pulled out.

  Lena pulled her cell phone out and turned it on. As soon as the Sprint logo disappeared, her voice mail and text message alerts began to blaze. 10 New Voice Mails, 17 New Text Messages. Lena opened her text message inbox.

  Hubby Cell 10:03 A.M.: You doing some low down shit Lena.

  Hubby Cell 10:06 A.M.: Fuck you Lena go be with that dyke.

  Lena continued to go through the messages. As the time wore on, the angry messages turned to desperation and hurt.

  Hubby Cell 2:11 P.M.: Lena please, just come home.

  Hubby Cell 2:45 P.M.: Please Lena, I need you, I love you.

  Let’s work this out.

  Lena felt tears forming in her eyes. She cleared the screen and dialed Carmen’s number.

  Carmen picked up on the first ring.

  “Oh my God, Lena! I cannot wait for you to see my loft. It’s not as swanky as your million-dollar pad, but damnit, I’m gonna dress it up and—”

  “Carmen, wait a minute,” Lena said, cutting off her ecstatic friend. “I wanted to know ... umm ... do you have any contact info on Denise? Like her hotel?”

  Carmen looked around her storage unit to see if there was anything important she was forgetting. “Umm, I don’t know the number, but I think it’s an Embassy Suites.”

  “Do you know where?”

  “No, I don’t. Just call her cell. I’m sure she’ll answer for you.”

  “Have you talked to her since she arrived in New York?”

  “Actually, no. I called, but it went to voice mail. I’m guessing she was in her meeting. She had to meet her agent as soon as she got there. Hey, where are you? I want you to meet me at my new crib. It’s on Harbor Town, so we are real close”

  Lena forgot she didn’t tell anyone she was going to New York. “I can’t right now, but I’ll call you as soon as I’m free.” Lena hung up. She looked out the window at the fabulous city.

  Lena picked her phone up and scrolled to Denise’s name. A picture of Denise popped up. She smiled. The time was near.

  The driver was waiting in front of the office, just as Mariah had promised. He smiled and opened the door for Denise. Denise climbed into the luxury town car and closed the door. She looked at the beautiful building that held her nonexistent future. Suddenly it didn’t look as shiny and beautiful. She saw bird droppings on the walls and trash on the ground. New York suddenly looked grimy and unappealing.

  Denise heard her phone vibrating from inside her duffle bag. She rummaged through the side pocket until finding the phone. Lena’s face flashed on the screen. Denise sighed. She took a deep breath and answered the phone.

  “Yeah?”

  Lena’s eyes widened, her heart racing. “Hey, Denise, hi.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I was just, um, I was calling to check on you.”

  Denise rolled her eyes up, hoping the cool air conditioning would stop any tears from falling. “I’m fine.”

  Lena smiled. “That’s good to hear. Um, Carmen said she tried to call you to get your hotel and room number, but you didn’t answer. I was, um, about to go into her house.”

  Tears ran down Denise’s face. Her voice trembled. She struggled to get it under control. “Uhhh ... I’m at the Embassy Suites, downtown. I don’t know the room number. Just tell her to ask for my room.” The feeling of failure set into Denise’s soul. Lena was married to a pro ball player and she was now nothing.

  “Great. Well, I’m sure you are doing super important things, so I’ll talk to you later. Miss you.” Lena couldn’t stop smiling, completely oblivious to Denise’s somber tone.

  “Bye.” Denise hung the phone up. She couldn’t tell Lena the truth. She didn’t want to tell anyone she was a failure. She looked up at the driver. “Hey, are there any stores around here? Like a liquor store?”

  “Sure. I’ll take you to one. Celebrating, huh?”

  “Yeah,” Denise uttered.

  It was ironic. She’d spent years turning down drink after drink because she wanted to be perfect when she started her career. She was cautious her whole life. The idea of not pleasing her grandmother, or ending up like the other people in her family had struck fear in her for years. Now that she didn’t have a career anymore, she could drink like a fish and it wouldn’t matter.

  Lena smiled as the taxi pulled up to Saks. She paid the driver and stepped out of the car. She didn’t have anything to wear, and she wanted to look perfect for her special night. The large store was filled with designer clothes, accessories, and perfumes to help her create a look that would make Denise want to eat her alive. She made a mental note; she needed a sexy dress to surprise Denise with, some smoking lingerie to entice her, and something comfortable to chill in when they had their first breakfast as girlfriends.

  Lena opened the doors to the store that would help make her dream come true. First stop, the dress; last stop, Embassy Suites.

  6

  The flight couldn’t land quickly enough. Cooley shifted in her seat, as the plane coasted to the gate. Her palms were sweating. She noticed the flight attendant talking but couldn’t make out what she was saying. Everything sounded like the teacher on Charlie Brown. Cooley looked around. She made sure everything was packed, so she could just fly off her seat.

  The attendant gave the go-ahead to leave. Cooley jumped up and off before the other passengers in first-class could even stand up. Cooley didn’t look back. She scurried to the subway inside of the Atlanta airport.

  Luck seemed to be on her side, as the doors opened as soon as she made it down the stairs. Before she knew it, she was walking up the escalator to the baggage claim.

  Cooley sighed. Her good luck had run out. She’d made it to baggage claim before the bags had been taken off the plane. Cooley stared at the escalator; at any moment Misha would be appearing, probably hand in hand with Patrick. The thought made Cooley’s stomach turn.

  Cooley stared at the baggage claim belt, hoping that she would develop ESP and cause the bags to begin to fall. The loud buzzer made her heart race. Slowly bags began to fall to the now rotating belt. Cooley stared at the opening like she was waiting on a million dollars to come out. Her heart began to beat hard.

  She turned around to see Misha and Patrick walking toward
the baggage area. Cooley jerked back to the baggage belt. Her hands began to tense up; she was experiencing a new feeling. A woman was making her nervous.

  What the fuck is wrong with you? Cooley thought to herself. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the metal baggage claim. She didn’t recognize herself. She felt herself becoming the one thing she vowed never to be. She was becoming weak over a girl. She had become just like the punks she talked about. She had allowed herself to enter the constant stream of women who let other women affect them all in the name of love. Her father would be turning over in his grave if he saw what she had become.

  When I get out of this airport, I swear no woman is ever going to get me like this again. Fuck love. That shit is for the birds, Cooley thought to herself.

  Cooley shook her head. She took another deep breath. Get a grip. You are Carla Cooley Wade. She saw her Gucci bag headed her way. Cooley grabbed the bag off of the belt.

  “Excuse me, but can I get your autograph?”

  The low, sexy voice sent chills down Cooley’s spine. She smirked. She knew the voice instantly.

  “No autographs. But if you give me your number ...” Cooley turned around and smiled. Sahara stood in front of her with a Kool-Aid smile on her face.

  Sahara pulled her shades off, tossing her silky hair in the process. “What are you doing here?”

  “Well, I was told that the new A&R rep was arriving at the airport, so I decided to hop in my new ride and come pick you up myself. I hope you don’t mind.” Sahara extended her hands.

  Cooley wrapped her arms around Sahara’s small waist. “Not at all.” Cooley nodded her head. She glanced down at Sahara’s petite, thick frame. The pair of Seven jeans she was wearing fit her thick thighs like they were painted on. She looked thicker than Cooley remembered, and her designer rags a big upgrade from the stripper heels and cheap clothes that adorned her last time they were together. The brown stiletto boots just added to her sex appeal.