Doin' Me Page 2

  “I guess we’d better dig in,” Kevin said after the waiter set salads in front of each of them, leaving one in the vacant space beside Tyson.

  “I guess you’re right. Wouldn’t want to keep you lovebirds waiting on us lonely peons.” Tyson mumbled a blessing over the food, then reached for the salt and pepper. It was then he realized his friends were staring at him. His jealousy had slipped through his lips.

  He abandoned his quest for the salt and pepper and rested his elbows on the table. Seated at the table were the people he cared most about in the world, although he doubted if he’d told them that. Kevin understood him like a blood brother. He trusted Leon with his life. Marlissa and Starla, he loved them like sisters, but most of the time he treated them as emotional nuisances.

  “Guys, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” The group continued to stare. Apologizing was also new to Tyson. Normally, when he offended someone, he didn’t care. He pushed his chair back and stood. “I’m going to get some air.”

  “Oh my,” Starla gasped, looking past Tyson.

  Marlissa’s mouth hung open, but no words flowed. Both Leon’s and Kevin’s eyes bulged.

  When Tyson turned and Reyna’s frame came into focus, his mouth also dropped. His bright skin turned crimson, and his nostrils flared. Charcoal flecks appeared in his hazel-colored eyes. The need that had engulfed him only moments earlier vanished. Right now embarrassment clothed him. His anger rose a notch with every seductive step Reyna took toward him. She reached him, wearing a bright smile, and in his opinion, very little else.

  “Hi, guys,” Reyna greeted the group. “Sorry I’m late, but I ran into traffic. I hope I didn’t miss much.”

  “H—hey, Reyna,” Kevin stuttered. “You’re right on time. The program hasn’t started yet.”

  “Yeah . . .” Marlissa finally found her voice. “They just served the salad.”

  Leon and Starla stuffed baby spinach leaves into their mouths.

  “Good. I’m starved.” Reyna looked over at Tyson, who hadn’t uttered one word, and gestured toward the empty chair. “Do I have to pull out my own chair?”

  Tyson leaned close to her ear and said through clenched teeth, “I need to see you outside for a moment . . . right now.”

  Reyna waved him off and pulled out the chair and sat down. “Whatever you have to say can wait. I’m ready to eat.”

  Tyson continued standing until Kevin tapped his shoulder and visually communicated that people were staring and murmuring. Reluctantly, he sat down and glared at Reyna. Oblivious to his discomfort, Reyna poured on dressing and proceeded to devour the salad.

  “Tyson.” Starla’s tone was softer than normal. “Eat your salad before it gets cold.”

  Tyson’s face twisted, then relaxed, and he chuckled at Starla’s attempt to calm him down. “Whatever you say, Mother Scott,” he said in reference to Starla’s mother-in-law, who was a member at his church and a noted prayer warrior.

  Leon raised an eyebrow. “I think you could use my mother’s help right about now.”

  “Don’t I know it,” Tyson mumbled before biting the dry leaves.

  Forty-five minutes later, during dessert, Reyna finally turned and spoke to Tyson. “Now, what did you want to talk about?”

  Tyson savored a bit of tiramisu before answering. He set his fork down and made eye contact with a gentleman two tables over. The same gentleman had been eyeing Reyna throughout dinner. He placed his arm around Reyna’s bare shoulder, then nodded at the gentleman. With the unspoken communication, the stranger turned his attention elsewhere.

  Tyson stood and held out his hand. “It’s a little stuffy in here. Let’s go outside.” Reyna pushed back from the table and stood. Tyson felt his anger return. “Would you like to use my jacket?”

  “Oh, no, I’m fine.” Reyna strolled through the banquet hall with her head held high, unaware of the stares. When they reached the lobby, she sat down on the white leather sofa, with her legs crossed at the knee.

  Tyson paced the Venetian carpet. This was new territory for him. If he were in the courtroom, he’d know exactly what to say to persuade the jury in his favor. But he wasn’t in court, in front of a jury. He was in a historical five-star resort with a woman who looked like she’d do anything for fifty dollars.

  He ceased pacing and stuffed his hands into his pants pockets. “Reyna, did I mention that this was a formal event?”

  Reyna stopped brushing her nails on the hem of her skirt. “Of course you did. That’s why I wore this black skirt and bought this new top.”

  Tyson closed his eyes and counted to ten. “Reyna, you’re not this dense. What did you do? Leave the rest of the top on the rack? You would’ve done better showing up topless for the good that thing’s doing.” His eyes traveled to her legs. “And where’s the rest of your skirt? My dinner napkin has more fabric than that thing. Take a look around you. Every man here has on a tuxedo, and the women are wearing evening gowns. I don’t have a problem with the makeup and the haircut, but this attire is too much.”

  Reyna opened her purse and refreshed her lipstick.

  Tyson ran his hand over his short hair. “Look, Reyna, I’m a prominent lawyer. I can’t be seen socially with a woman who looks like a . . .” He didn’t finish.

  Reyna jumped to her feet. “Go on and say it, Tyson. Say how you really feel.” She prodded until he gave in.

  “Fine! I’ll say it. You embarrassed me tonight. You’re dressed like you don’t respect yourself. You’re displaying assets that should remain private. You look cheap.”

  For a slight second, he thought he saw hurt flash in her eyes. Then she spewed venom. “First of all, you invited me, not the other way around.” Her forefinger wagged in his face. “I don’t dress to please anyone but myself. I’m doin’ me! I can show whatever I want to show. It’s not like you’re my man, anyway. If you don’t like it, don’t ask me out again. I only agreed to come in hopes of finding a real man.” She left him standing in the empty lobby with his mouth open.

  By the time Tyson had processed her words and returned to the table, Reyna was on the dance floor, bumping and grinding with the gentleman who’d been ogling her all evening.

  Chapter 3

  Reyna twisted her hips to the beat of the music and moved closer to her dance partner. She didn’t know his name, but he’d been watching her all night, and for that alone she’d accepted his dance invitation when she returned from putting Tyson in his place. The tall Boris Kodjoe look-alike didn’t have a problem keeping up with the wild moves she’d learned from watching MTV videos. Up until tonight the only dancing she’d done was a holy dance in church.

  She turned and ground her backside against her partner’s midsection. To her surprise, he squeezed her hips and pressed her even closer. The friction made her uncomfortable, and she opened her eyes to find Tyson glaring at her. To make sure she and Attorney Stokes had a clear understanding, Reyna leaned her head back and increased the pace, then dropped it like it was hot. The next time she checked, Tyson and the rest of his holy friends were gone.

  After the third dance, her partner led her back to his table. “Since what we did out there could get us arrested in some states, I guess we should at least exchange names. I’m Chase.” His grin revealed a set of perfectly white teeth and a right dimple.

  Reyna’s eyes traveled to his left hand. No ring. She returned his smile and accepted his extended hand. “I’m Reyna Mills.”

  “I didn’t know girls were so formal these days.”

  Reyna hid her confusion by wiping sweat from her forehead with an unused decorative table napkin. She didn’t have much experience in the dating department, but what was formal about using both first and last names?

  Chase leaned in close. “I hope stealing you from that other guy doesn’t cause you any problems later.”

  Reyna leaned closer and, without meaning to, gave Chase full view of her “girls.” “You didn’t steal me from anyone. That guy doesn’t own me. We’re only frien
ds. At least we were before tonight.”

  Chase’s eyes remained focused downward. “In that case, can I buy you a drink?”

  Alcohol had never touched her lips, but tonight was a night of new beginnings, and Reyna wanted to try something new. Besides, it was okay to drink as long as she didn’t get drunk. But what should she have? Discreetly, she looked around at the other tables and settled on what looked like a frozen fruit drink. “I’ll have one of those.” She pointed at a beverage on the table across from her.

  Chase chuckled at her naïveté. “I see you’re new at this.” He stopped an approaching waiter. “Bring the lady a margarita.”

  “New at what?” Reyna didn’t notice that Chase didn’t order anything for himself.

  “You know . . .” He raised an eyebrow. “Getting your swerve on.”

  Reyna assumed he meant dancing. “I may be new on the scene, but I can work you over.”

  Laughter poured from Chase as he leaned back in his chair. “We’ll see about that.”

  The waiter returned with the margarita. Reyna thought to ask Chase if she should sip the drink or take a swig, but decided against it. This man was handsome and was interested in her. She still didn’t know much about him, but she could tell by the Rolex that he had some money. No way was she going to reveal her inexperience with life. She took a chance and took little sips. She liked the salty lime taste and at some point little sips turned into swigs. Four margaritas later Reyna found herself inside Chase’s suite, learning what the term getting your swerve on really meant.

  Sunday morning arrived, and Reyna found herself too sore to move and was happy about it. After spending Friday night with Chase, he had talked her into staying over Saturday night. It only made sense, since she didn’t wake up until three in the afternoon. From what she could remember, the man now in the shower had kept her up all night. She didn’t remember much about Friday night, but she’d never forget Saturday.

  Chase had introduced her to a whole new world, and she was the perfect student. She did everything he’d asked of her, no matter how painful. At Chase’s coaxing, she’d even participated in acts she once considered disgusting and sinful. All because Chase told her she was beautiful and that he couldn’t get enough of her.

  During breaks, he’d fed her lobster and treated her to a hot bubble bath. She learned he was a stockbroker and had been invited to the charity dinner by his sister, who served on the youth center’s board of directors. He had grown up in the Bay Area and loved to mentor youths.

  The shower stopped, and Reyna stretched horizontally across the king-sized bed. She could love the man on the other side of that door. He certainly loved making love to her, and unlike Tyson, he wasn’t embarrassed to be seen with her. She couldn’t believe how easy it was to find a good man on her own, without God’s help. All she had to do was conform to the “world’s standards.” No one waited for marriage to have sex anymore, and the ones that did didn’t marry until they were much older. Reyna didn’t have to worry about that now. She and Chase were sexually compatible. Now they could work on building a relationship. Since she planned to move out of her mother’s house soon, maybe they could get a place together.

  Since it was Sunday and the sun was shining, she planned to ask Chase to take her to brunch and then maybe to the beach. There were so many things she wanted to experience with him. She wanted to enjoy meals and watch movies. Take hot air balloon rides and romantic walks.

  “I can’t believe it. I finally have a man that wants me.” She quickly wiped the tears that instantly pooled.

  She heard the bathroom door open and sat up with her back against the pillows. Chase entered, fully dressed. Reyna glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Where was Chase going at 7:00 A.M.? She didn’t have to wait long to find out.

  “Good. You’re up. Do you need my driver to drop you off somewhere on the way to the airport? Or do you have your own transportation? Either way, you need to be out of this room by noon.”

  Still lost in the euphoria of her first relationship, Reyna ignored his questions and reached for him. “What’s the rush? I thought we could have brunch, then hang out at the beach.” Chase stepped beyond her reach. That was when she noticed his luggage stacked near the door. She dismissed the sudden queasiness as hunger pangs.

  He flashed the smile that had rendered her helpless all weekend. “You’re kidding, right? I have to get back to my wife and kids. They’re meeting me at LAX, and then we’re going to church.” Chase walked over to the dresser and tied his tie, as if he hadn’t slapped her with his words.

  This time the tears fell too fast for Reyna to stop them. Chase was married. But he didn’t wear a ring. Reyna gathered the sheet around her and sat on the edge of the bed. It must be a loveless marriage if he’d spent the weekend making love to her, she reasoned as slight tremors shook her. Unlike a few hours ago, Chase was oblivious to her presence.

  “Y-you’re married and y—you’re on your way to church?” Reyna stuttered after wiping her face. “I don’t understand. I thought you lived in the Bay Area.”

  “I grew up in the Bay Area, but now I live in L.A.,” Chase explained with ease. “It’s simple. I married my college sweetheart, and we have two beautiful kids. I don’t like to miss Sunday morning service, considering I’m a deacon.” Before Reyna could probe further, Chase stood next to her. “I know you’re wondering why I spent the weekend with you when I have a beautiful wife at home. Truth is, I love my wife, but she’s saved and she won’t do half the things in bed women like you do. So every now and then I enjoy a little extracurricular activity—but I always use a condom.”

  Reyna’s head hung so low, her chin grazed her bosom. She was not going to let him see her cry. Then something he’d said registered, and her head snapped up. “What do you mean, ‘women like you’?”

  Chase pulled out his wallet. “You know, hookers. Or do you prefer the title lady of the evening?” He pulled out ten one-hundred dollar bills and offered them to her. “This should be enough to cover your service fee for the weekend.”

  Reyna’s lower lip quivered uncontrollably as she stared at the money. She would not cry, not in front of him. She had thought this man cared. He had said he couldn’t get enough of her, had said she felt good. It all made sense to her now. He hadn’t asked her anything about her life, because all she was to him was a hooker. He hadn’t kissed her on the mouth, either. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that she wasn’t a hooker but, in fact, had been a virgin.

  “What gave it away?” she asked with what little pride she had left.

  Chase’s laughter filled the room. “You’re kidding again, right? Trust me, you know how to dress for work.” Chase dropped the money on the bed, then put on his jacket.

  Bile collected at the back of Reyna’s throat as she watched him remove a ring from his pocket and slide it on his left ring finger. Before he opened the suite door, he turned back. “You never did answer my question. Do you need a ride?”

  Reyna dug her nails into the sheet. He would not see her cry. “No. I’m good.”

  “Okay. Remember, checkout is at noon.” Then he was gone.

  The time on the clock changed five times before Reyna whimpered. The whimpers transformed into sobs fueled by shame and regret. How could she have spent the weekend with a man she knew nothing about? And why had she thought for a second he cared for her? She loathed the fact that her mother and Tyson had been right. She looked like a whore and in turn had been treated as such.

  In the recesses of her mind, she remembered the days when she judged Marlissa for being an alcoholic. Reyna had called her a heathen and unworthy of love. Today Marlissa was saved, sober, and loved to the point of obsession, by her husband. Reyna, on the other hand, had gotten drunk and had lost her virginity to a man whose last name she didn’t even know.

  Chapter 4

  Praise service was always a spirited event at Restoration Ministries, but on first Sundays parishioners elevated the
praise to another level, maybe because first Sunday was also Communion day. Tyson enjoyed the praise, but what had drawn him to Restoration Ministries was Pastor Drake’s teaching. His method had catapulted Tyson from a place of stagnation and had ignited an internal thirst for the Word that Tyson couldn’t quench. One service and Tyson could no longer sit under Pastor Rosalie Jennings’s leadership.

  Today, however, Tyson found it difficult to concentrate on Pastor Drake’s sermon about unconditional love. Two days ago he’d thought he could one day love Reyna, but then she’d embarrassed him and bruised his ego in front of his friends. If the X-rated dance scene wasn’t enough, she’d chosen to spend the night with a stranger, probably the man from the dance floor. He knew that because he had stopped by the Claremont Hotel Saturday morning to retrieve the Salvatore Ferragamo coat he’d left and had seen her car in the parking lot. It didn’t take a genius to know they weren’t dancing vertically all night.

  Tyson wasn’t blind, and naïveté wasn’t his weakness. He and Reyna were traveling on a path, but not the same one. Perhaps he should have shared his feelings with her, but after Friday night he doubted it would have mattered. Reyna didn’t want him, plain and simple. Besides, she couldn’t fit into his life, harboring so much resentment toward God and church. He’d encouraged her to seek counseling from Pastor Drake, but she’d refused. He had even offered to pay for a private practice Christian therapist. To show her gratitude, she’d cursed him out. Thinking back now, he realized he should have ended his bland romantic pursuit then. But something in Reyna endeared her to him—something special that no one saw but him.

  “Unconditional love doesn’t dwell on what someone has done to us,” Pastor Drake was saying. “It does not bring up someone’s past when they wrong us. Unconditional love forgives even if the person never asks for forgiveness.”