Always Unique (19 page)

Then he said, “To answer your original question, yes, baby, I’m going to go out later and take care of it, but I want you back in my arms tonight. So, you go do what you have to do, and I will go do what I have to do and we will race back to beat each other back.” Took had to take a step back himself. He knew he was good, but damn, he seemed to be either falling for his own game or her. And as he thought about it, long and hard, he realized it was the latter.

She searched his eyes for the bullshit and couldn’t find any indication at all of the slop that lived there. “Okay, baby, that works for me. I want to be in your arms.” And she hoped that the long French kiss convinced him of it.

Recovering from the embrace, he asked, “So, waffles? Pancakes?”

“How about chocolate? You?”

He smiled. “I’m yours anytime, anywhere,” he said, “but what can I order you from room service?”

“I’m going to have to take a rain check. The race to return just started,” she said. “Besides, you’ve given me plenty enough of ‘room service’ already.”

MISSING

Two days had passed since the brawl had broken out at Kennard’s birthday. Unique still had not heard a peep from Tyeedah, and she was simply worried sick. It was unusual for them not speak to one another at least a few times a day, so for Tyeedah to be completely MIA meant something was definitely wrong.

Unique had called, texted, and left messages on Tyeedah’s voice mail, which was now full. Though she didn’t like to show up to anybody’s house unannounced, her only recourse now was to pop up on Tyeedah’s doorstep.

She made the drive across the George Washington Bridge from New Jersey, through Manhattan, and to Brooklyn to make a surprise visit. As she parked, she hoped to, at the most, maybe find Tyeedah sick in bed. She rang the doorbell a few times before Tyeedah’s younger brother, Lil-Bro, finally answered. It was barely opened when Unique pushed her way past him. “Where is Tyeedah?”

Lil-Bro looked confused. “Shit, I thought she was with you.” He was in his boxers, yawning, rubbing his eyes with sleep stuck in the corners. “You know how y’all do,” he said. “I just thought she was staying over at your house or maybe you two were on one of y’all girly trouble-making missions and shit.” He raised an eyebrow.

Unique was en route to Tyeedah’s room, but was stopped dead in her tracks by his words. “No, she hasn’t been with me.” She sucked her teeth, disappointed that Tyeedah wasn’t there. “I haven’t heard from her since the party.”

“For real?” He questioned her in disbelief, and it was clear that he was beginning to get just as worried as she was. But he also knew his sister was a warrior. He thought again and said, “Man, she’s okay.”

Unique wasn’t convinced. “Look, Lil-Bro, I don’t think so. It’s just so weird and out of character for her not to call me. Nor come home. I hate to think that something has happened. But she’s never pulled anything like this before.”

“But, if something had happened she would have called, or somebody would have by now.”

Just then, the words “Baby, come back to bed” were heard before Unique turned and saw a big-booty light-skinned chick draped in a paisley-print comforter barely covering her backside grace her presence at the entryway of the living room near the hall. “Lil-Bro, who is she?” the girl asked when she noticed Unique in the middle of the living room, pacing the floor back and forth.

“Chill, this is my other sister.” Unique could see from the expression on his face that Lil-Bro seemed to enjoy the woman’s jealous tone.

“Nigga, you ain’t got but one sister, Tyeedah.” The chick picked up a pillow from the sofa and threw it at him while holding the front of the blanket with her other hand. “You must’ve forgot, I’ve been knowing your ass for a long time and we grew up in the same building.” She frowned up her face. “So how come I’ve never met her?” she asked, as if Unique weren’t there.

“Miss me with your bullshit,” said a curt and callous Lil-Bro, “before I put your ass out.”

Miss Paisley Print rolled her eyes and stood her ground, waiting for an explanation. She tried to act hard, but Unique could tell that Lil-Bro had hurt her feelings.

Unique spoke up. “No need to talk to her like that; the girl is simply asking you a valid question. Wouldn’t you be asking the same question if you were at her house and some strange dude rolled up?”

Lil-Bro took in a deep breath, taking a second to decide if he wanted to explain himself. Finally, he said, “This is Unique, man. My sister’s best friend, and she’s like a big sister to me. So don’t even trip.”

“Oh, sorry, baby,” she said, contritely dropping her head and turning around, making her way to the bedroom. “Sister, I didn’t mean to come off brash.”

Unique cut her off before she could finish apologizing. “It’s all good. Like he said, no need to trip.” Then Unique turned her attention back to Tyeedah’s brother. “Look, Lil-Bro, like I was saying, something just ain’t right. I need you to get your ear to the street and see what’s really hood, ’cause it sure ain’t all good.”

“Yeah, sure,” he said.

“Okay, I’m going to put the bottom lock on the door,” Unique said as she left, not knowing what else to do. Was Tyeedah locked up? Was she hurt, and needing some help? Was she dead? Only God knew at this time, because Unique surely didn’t.

Back behind the wheel of her black Aston Martin, she was about to remove her phone from her Louis Vuitton purse to call Kennard when Beyoncé’s “Run the World (Girls)” started playing. She’d always liked that song, but at that very second, the catchy tune had never sounded better. It was the answer to her prayers, because it was Tyeedah’s ringtone.

Unique hurried to push the button to receive the call. “Oh
my God,
girl, are you okay?”

“Damn straight, I’m okay,” Tyeedah said in a giddy voice.

Unique took a deep breath. “Thank you,
God
!” She was grateful to hear Tyeedah’s voice, and then had to ask, “Well, bitch, where in the hell have you been? What in the world is going on?”

“Dayum, you sounding like you on some single black female shit,” she joked with her friend.

“Bitch, fuck you!” Unique half joked. “I’ve been looking everywhere from heaven to hell for your ass for two days and I promise you I was a second from bringing in the CIA to help me out. Girl, I was scared and worried sick. I thought … well, I’m not even going to tell you what I thought.”

“Girl, I’m good,” Tyeedah reassured her. “I’ve been laid up, getting much needed good dick.”

In a matter of seconds, Unique’s worries changed from worry to anger to excitement for her friend. She knew that it had been a month of Sundays since Tyeedah had had any kind of sex, and she was well overdue to have her kitty fed.

“Give me all the details! I want details, details, details!” Unique demanded, as excited as she could be for someone.

“Well, girl, I met him at the party. And from the moment we laid eyes on each other, the attraction was ridiculous. For once, I went against my don’t-fuck-on-the-first-night rule and I decided to just live in the moment and go with it.”

“I ain’t saying nothing; you know I’ve had my share of them in my single days.”

“And you know how I feel about those one-night stands but like seriously … it resulted in the best two days of my life, girl,” Tyeedah said, and Unique could feel all the smiles through the phone.

“Really? I’m so happy you had a good time. How did y’all leave it? And what do you think? And most important”—she paused, finally taking a breath—“what’s his S.T.E.P. score?”

S.T.E.P. stood for Swag, Technique, Endurance, and Penis size—their personal grading system.

“Thirty,” Tyeedah said, without even thinking.

“Dayummmmm,” Unique said, impressed with this man because the scale usually stopped at ten, with one being the lowest. So this guy was quite something. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

Tyeedah was all giddy again. “Girl, I can’t even make you understand how crazy good it was. The pillow talk was amazing and the sex was out of this world. He said he’d fucked a few chicks in his day, but only loved one girl in his life, but he has a connection with me like no other and it could definitely be the real deal holyfield.”

Unique could hear the excitement in Tyeedah’s voice. “That’s fantastic, girly!”

“Yeah, but I’m no fool. I know it could go either way.”

“Yeah, I know, but you are both grown, consenting adults, so you can work the fine print if you both want to.”

“Yeah, but the odds of long-term relationships coming out of a one-night stand are slim to none. So, even if I never see him again, I will savor the two days we spent together and I’ll never ever forget it—the connection—I felt with him. I really hope he felt it, too.”

“Wow!”
was all Unique could say for a moment, and then she paused. “Well, look at me and Kennard.”

“That’s different; you were created for each other.”

“Who knows? You never know what God has in the cards for you.” Unique tried to make her friend look at it in a positive way, then asked, “So, where is Mr. Good-Love now?”

“He went to handle some business and I’m running home now to shower and change, get pretty, and wait on his call.”

“Girl, you are already pretty, so that’s no extra work.”

“Thanks, chica. He’s supposed to link back up with me when he’s finished handling his B-I. He said it wouldn’t be too long, so I’m in a cab now, but traffic is real stupid right about now.”

“Oh, okay, well, I wish we could’ve met and put in some face time,” she said with a sigh, “but I know you’re wrestling against time.”

“I know, girl. Me too. I miss you, friend,” Tyeedah said to Unique.

“Well, let me just give you the scoop real quick.”

“Spill it, bitch. Hold on, let me guess,” she said, before Unique could even speak. “Kennard bought you the new Bentley?”

“Girl, not even close.”

“A bigger ring or maybe an island?” She made jokes because she knew that Kennard always showered Unique with the most extravagant gifts. “Share it, girl. Just spit it out.”

“I saw Took at the party.”

“You what? Saw who?” Tyeedah was surprised. “How did he get in? Are you sure it was him?”

“Yes! I’m positive it was him,” Unique said to her friend. “And this can’t be good”—she paused—“by any means.”

“It’s a big city with millions of people. Maybe he was here for something or someone else,” Tyeedah said, trying to convince her friend, but Unique wasn’t buying it.

“Girl, I know this guy inside and out. Being with him for the years as I was, I learned him like a dissertation. And I’m telling you, it was Took. And he’s up to no good. Please believe it.”

“Well, I know what you told me and I don’t put nothing past these motherfuckers, but I think you might be overreacting a little.”

Unique wanted Tyeedah to understand and normally she would have, but for some reason she wasn’t getting it. Unique chalked it up to Tyeedah having love on the brain. “Well, girly, I’m happy you’re okay. Stay in touch, please. Even when you’re with Mr. Might-Be-Right, check in.”

“I will.”

“Well, make sure you do. I’m not going to dump on you. I gotta get to the restaurant anyway. Call me and let me know when he calls you and where y’all are going. As a matter of fact, if time permits, bring him by the restaurant so I can check this guy.”

“I’ll see.”

“I understand if you lovebirds have other plans, but promise me, no more MIA shit.”

“You got it, sis.”

They hung up.

And within a matter of minutes, Tyeedah got a call from Seymour informing her that he had to go to Atlantic City to handle some business and then needed to make a stop in the city. He promised that as soon as both things were taken care of, he’d be all hers. She didn’t ask, but she wondered what in the hell did Seymour have going on in Atlantic City?

WINNING AND LOSING

It was noon, when most hardworking people either were counting the minutes before lunch or already stuffing their face. The Borgata Casino, in Atlantic City, bustled with greedy gamblers. The absence of windows, which was a strategic part of most casinos, was intended to cause gamblers to lose track of time, while they lost their hard-earned money. All the while, bright lights and festive sounds, free alcohol and tawdry-dressed women and the ever omnipresent lure of that one big payday supplied enough stimuli to keep the betters wide awake and entertained, for days at a time.

Sitting at the blackjack table, Took peeked at the two cards and then asked the dealer for a hit.

The dealer’s eyes met his and she did what she was told. Took smiled at her. She was fine: six feet tall without heels, skin the color of cinnamon and gray eyes. She slid the top card from the holder and flipped it over next to Took’s hand.

An eight of spades, that gave Took a total of twenty-two, completely busting him out. The dealer said “Sorry,” with her eyes, then with an accent sounding as if she may have been born on one of the islands somewhere in the Pacific. Fiji or maybe Tahiti.

“Me too,” Took said, flashing a smile to let her know he harbored no ill will towards her and added, “But if we always won, it wouldn’t be called gambling.”

Took had never been big on gambling, but he respected the hustle of the casinos to the fullest. The casinos had their rackets and he definitely had
his
.

After downing what remained of his watered-down vodka and cranberry, Took said to the big guy sitting next to him, “Your luck seems to be even worse than mine.”

In between hands, the two had been casually trading words for the past couple of hours.

“You win some and you lose some,” Billy “the Grimm-Reaper” Jones said, shaking his head in disgust. He knew good and well that he was in deep shit. He was supposed to be in training camp. However, he had taken the money that Kennard had spotted him earlier that morning to hold him over until his big fight straight to the casino, thinking that he could flip the money and come up at the blackjack table. Besides a few hundred, he was back where he had started.

That’s exactly what Took wanted to talk to Grimm Reaper about—winning and losing. After doing his homework, he found out that not only was Mr. Reaper in debt to the casinos and the IRS, he also owed 1.2 million dollars in unpaid child support to three different baby mommas. The six-million-dollar guaranteed purse for the upcoming fight was about two million short of what he even needed to get out of the red.