Dirty Little Secrets (15 page)

“Don’t get me wrong; Ian’s behavior was irrational, but he’s still a great catch. At the end of the day you can fall in love
with a rich man just as easy as a poor man, because underneath both men are still the same. They are going to want to control
your life and tell you what to do. Men are dominating by nature, so why be bothered with some broke-ass man running around
trying to drive you crazy, when you can have a rich one who can at least give you a better life?”

“Tyler, you’re so jaded. Josh doesn’t try to control me.”

“Yeah, because you do whatever he wants you to do. Just wait until the word ‘no’ comes out of your mouth, and then you’ll
see just how compliant Josh really is.”

Chrissie, like so many other women, had this game all confused. In her limited mind an unambitious wuss like Josh was somehow
a better man than Ian because he never asked for anything but money and time. Most women are so desperate for companionship
that they will give their last dollar and the time they need to put toward themselves to a man whose only interest is how
he can benefit from them. I refused to let that be my existence. I understood that my relationship with Ian wasn’t exactly
normal, but it seemed a lot more fulfilling than Chrissie’s. Ian had his flaws and was far from perfect, but since my arrival
to the big city, he was the closest form of perfection for me.

A lie is so much easier to believe than the truth. Someone can tell you they want you to be honest, but then everyone hates
honesty. It’s highly overrated. You want that person to stop before they say something you may regret hearing—and before you
accuse them of deliberately misleading you. All my life I created a fantasy because I didn’t want to face reality. But sometimes
reality slaps you in the face, and you can no longer run from the inevitable.

I kept eyeing my watch as the hairstylist at the Dominican spot blew my hair straight. Two weeks had seemed to fly by, and
in a couple of hours Ian would be picking me up at my apartment. We were going to some party, and I had no idea what to wear.
Ian hadn’t given me any details; he’d just told me to look sexy. I was debating whether to wear my red Narciso Rodriguez dress
or my silk animal-print Jenny Packham. Both were extremely
seductive, and Ian would like either one since he had picked them both out.

When I got home, I heard my phone ringing from the hallway, but I managed to answer it right before the answering machine
picked up.

“Hello,” I said, out of breath.

“Where the fuck have you been? I’ve left you three messages.”

“I went to get my hair done. Why didn’t you call me on my cell?”

“Because you don’t ever answer that shit. You should’ve called and told me where you were. I don’t have time to try and track
you down.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you should be,” Ian said. Then he instantly jumped to another subject. “So what are you wearing tonight?”

Ian was becoming a tyrant. We would speak every day, and he would want a detailed report of my activities. If he called at
a certain time and I wasn’t home, he would scold me like I was a five-year-old. When Ian’s behavior became unbearable, I sometimes
wondered if my mother’s views were rubbing off on me. I did love Ian, but would I be putting up with his intolerable attitude
if he wasn’t rich and famous? Or would I gladly show him the front door? I had to believe that it was love, because I hated
the fact that Mother stayed with Daddy because she wanted a certain lifestyle.

“Either the red Narciso Rodriguez or the silk animal print.”

“No, wear that nude-color Gucci dress. I love the way it hugs your ass.”

“Okay, whatever you say.”

“Hurry up, because I’ll be downstairs in twenty minutes.”

“Twenty.” I heard the phone go dead before my thought was completed. With no time to waste, I did a quick fresh-me-up, applied
my makeup the exact way Ian liked, put on my shoes, grabbed my purse, and zoomed downstairs. His limo was downstairs, right
on time. The driver opened the door for me, and Ian, who was on his cell phone, did not seem to notice as I got inside. I
reached over to give him a kiss, and he put his hand up, gesturing me to wait. When Ian finally finished his conversation,
I was anxious for him to acknowledge me.

“Come sit over here.” Ian patted the spot right next to him. “You look so fucking sexy! I’m ready to do you right here in
this limo, but I want you to stay looking perfect; maybe we’ll make love on our way back to the hotel.”

“I forgot to bring my overnight bag.”

“Don’t worry about it; you can pick some things up from the store in the morning. I have a surprise for you.”

My eyes brightened. “Really? What is it?” Ian handed me a Jacob the Jeweler box with the most beautiful diamond necklace I
had ever seen. I couldn’t take my eyes off the sparkler.

“This is for me?” I said, full of shock.

“No doubt. Turn around. I want you to wear this tonight with your dress. Now you look perfect,” Ian said as he examined me
from head to toe. We pulled up to a penthouse on Madison Avenue, and there were limos lined up down the block.

“Whose party is this, Ian?”

“My cousin’s; he’s celebrating his birthday.” My mind was spinning, wondering who the hell his cousin was. When we entered
the town house, the layout was magnificent.

“This is your cousin’s place?” I was in awe because it was breathtaking.

“Yeah, he’s doing big things. Come with me; I want to
introduce you to him.” I followed Ian up some wraparound stairs that led to a huge open space where about fifty people were
lounging on big, cream-colored plush couches. Everyone from Russell Simmons, Mary J. Blige, and Martha Stewart was socializing
and taking glasses of champagne from the waiters sauntering around the room.

Ian finally came to a cloud of people and stepped through, and I heard him saying, “What’s up, cuz? Happy birthday.” There
were a couple of models blocking my view so I still couldn’t see Ian’s cousin. People began dispersing as Ian pulled me in
and the guests realized the superstar basketball player and the guest of honor wanted a private moment. As my view cleared
and I glimpsed up before completely focusing, I heard Ian say, “Man, this is my girlfriend, Tyler. And Tyler, this is my cousin,
T-Roc.”

My heart dropped as T-Roc extended his hand. “Tyler, that’s a pretty name for a very pretty girl.” The same words he used
the very first time he introduced himself to me.

“Thank you,” I said dryly.

“You’re a lucky man, Ian. How long have you been together?” Ian glanced at me, but I wasn’t saying a word.

“A couple of months, but it seems longer. I think she’s the one.” Ian beamed. T-Roc was undressing me right before his cousin’s
eyes, but Ian was oblivious.

“Ian, I need to go to the restroom.”

“Do you want me to show you where it is?”

“No, I can find it.” I darted off before letting either one of them speak another word to me. This was too much. I found the
bathroom, shut the door, and sat on top of the toilet, overwhelmed by the turn of events. Should I tell Ian that I slept with
his cousin or will T-Roc tell him? Maybe I should just keep it to myself? Maybe T-Roc will? But the way he ogled me, like
we
shared some sordid secret…I gulped down the two glasses of champagne I had picked up on my way to the bathroom. Then I inspected
myself in the mirror. I applied fresh lip gloss, fixed my hair, and adjusted my dress, prepared to go back to Ian like nothing
was wrong. But when I opened the door, T-Roc pushed me back inside and locked the door.

“What are you doing?” I protested. T-Roc put his finger to my lips.

“Shh, there is no need to get upset,” T-Roc managed to say in a cool, calm voice. “First me, now my cousin; you’re turning
this into a real family affair, Tyler.”

“I didn’t know he was your cousin, and if I had…” My words faded.

“What? You wouldn’t have fucked with him? I seriously doubt that. The two of you seem very much in love, but then from our
past encounter I can tell what type of woman you are, and you’re not capable of love.”

“You don’t even know me; you have no idea how I feel about Ian.”

“A great part of my success is attributed to my gift of interpreting people from limited time spent with them. My diagnosis
of you is that you’re an ice princess.”

“I don’t give a damn what you think of me.”

“Maybe, but I’m sure Ian may feel differently.”

“What do you want from me, T-Roc?”

“I want us to pick up where we left off.” T-Roc stared into my eyes and when his lips touched mine, my body became weak and
I gave in to him. I couldn’t deny my attraction for T-Roc; he had this powerful aura that almost put me in a hypnotic trance.
His hands glided up my dress, and he slid my panties to the side as his finger easily slithered inside me. I moaned as he
kissed my neck
and then my breast. In what seemed like one quick motion he lifted me up on the sink, raised my dress, and scooted my body
forward so he could taste all of me. Right when I was about to reach my climax, T-Roc stopped. Handing me his business card,
he said, “You better call me tomorrow no later than two o’clock, or I’ll be having a heart-to-heart with my cousin about his
new girlfriend.”

“I can’t. I’ll be with Ian tomorrow.”

“Well, you better get creative.” T-Roc exited the bathroom, leaving me to wonder how I got myself in this predicament.

I woke up spooned against Ian, dreading the rest of my day before it had even started. I tossed and turned all night due to
T-Roc’s face flashing through my mind. It was too late to come clean with Ian about my past encounter with T-Roc, especially
after our bathroom episode. But at the same time I wasn’t going to let T-Roc dangle our relationship over my head. I had to
settle this situation with T-Roc once and for all, which meant I needed to get home and get my mind right before my two-o’clock
phone call. Right when I was about to slide out of bed, Ian’s erect penis was rubbing against my butt, meaning it was time
for his morning fix. As I slowly moved out of the bed, Ian grabbed me, pulling me toward him. “Where you think you’re going?”

“Baby, I have a million things to do this morning. I have to get home.”

“What? You better get your pretty ass back in this bed.” I fell back in Ian’s arms, giving him an impetuous kiss before jumping
out of the bed.

“Ian, you know I have finals this week; please don’t give me a hard time.” Finals were actually the following week, but he
didn’t need to know that.

“Damn, I have a photo shoot for my Reebok ad, and I wanted you to come with me.”

“How about I call you after my final and I’ll meet you there. Is that cool?”

“Yeah, that works, but you better come.”

“I will; I promise.”

On the way home I sat in a cab replaying exactly what I planned to say to T-Roc. There was no way I was going to let him ruin
my relationship with Ian. He was the best thing to happen to me in so long, and T-Roc wasn’t going to suck me into whatever
sick game he was trying to play. By the time the cab pulled up in front of my building, I had my T-Roc speech all worked out.

I paced back and forth in my living room as the clock ticked closer to two. I knew T-Roc said to call him by two, but I figured
if I called him closer to the cutoff time, then maybe he wouldn’t know how shook he had me. I took a deep breath before picking
up the cordless phone and dialed his number. The phone rang once, then twice. “Hello,” a distinct voice said.

“Hi, can I speak to T-Roc?” I asked, although I knew it was him on the phone.

“Speaking. Who’s this?”

“Tyler.”

“Right at two. I’m sure you purposely pushed the time.”

“No, I just walked in the house.”

“Whatever you say, Tyler.” His confidence aggravated the hell out of me. I wanted this conversation over with so I could forget
I ever had a crush on a man named T-Roc.

“Listen, I’m gonna make this quick because I have somewhere I need to be. Last night was a big mistake. I had a few glasses
of champagne, which made my thinking skills zero. As far as what took place a few months ago, it is in the past and that is
where it should stay.” There was a long silence before T-Roc spoke.

“Tyler, you’re right, and I apologize for putting you in an uncomfortable predicament,” T-Roc said with what seemed like genuine
sincerity.

“Does that mean you won’t be telling Ian about our connection?”

“Is that what you think we have? A connection?”

“You know what I mean,” I said, becoming flustered.

“If you’re asking me if I’ll keep our past relationship a secret from Ian, the answer is yes.”

“Thank you; I have to go now.” I hung up the phone before T-Roc could lure me in. It blew my mind how cooperative he was.
How obliging he was confused me, and it had me on edge. The ring of my cell phone jarred me from my thoughts. It was Ian,
and I scurried to pick up. Before I got a word out, Ian belted, “Where the fuck are you? Why aren’t you here yet?”

I stuttered trying to explain myself. “I’m so sorry; I’m coming right now.” It was almost three, and I had told Ian I would
meet him no later than two thirty. He hated waiting, especially for me.

The traffic was terrible getting to the East Side, and by the time I arrived, Ian was standing in front of his limo talking
to an older white guy in a business suit. I waited until they finished before walking up to him. “Hi, baby. Sorry I’m so late.”
Ian strong-armed me in the car and slammed the door.

“Where the fuck was you at?” Before he let me answer, he smacked me in the face. My hands went up in defense mode because
he looked like he was about to strike again.

“Ian, don’t.” I sighed, feeling perplexed because the driver was surveying us from the front seat. Ian was too preoccupied
scolding me to notice, or he just didn’t care.

“How you gon have me waitin’ for you? When I tell you to be somewhere, that’s where you be, do you understand?” I didn’t answer
right away, and Ian shouted again. “I said, Do you understand?”