Stay with Me (Strickland Sisters Book 1) Page 2

  I shook my head and stared at myself on the screen. The video I was editing was one I did demonstrating how to do your own faux dreadlocks. I was still wearing mine, and they actually looked pretty good for this being my first time trying that particular protective style. I looked at my brown skin against the stark white wall that served as a backdrop since I was still waiting for the backdrop banner I’d ordered to come in. I stared at my wide-set chocolate eyes, my strong nose and prominent cheekbones I’d inherited from my daddy. My lip-glossed lips were full and plush. I was cute. Not drop-dead, faint-in-your-tracks gorgeous, but I was cute with a head of thick, kinky hair that reached the middle of my back when flat-ironed (because 4C shrinkage is real), and a nice body. I was somewhere in between Nicky, who was the same height as me, five-five, but ridiculously thin, and Renee, who was a couple of inches taller than me and Nicky, and a big girl. Not sloppy big, but Jill Scott big—huge breasts, nice legs, and by far, the prettiest of us three.

  I wasn’t a show-stopper, and I’d gained a few pounds since I started working from home as a vlogger a few years earlier, but hell, I wasn’t huge or ugly. I dressed to complement my body, I was smart, successful, and even YouTube famous, so why the hell did I have a big target on my back that only asshole men were able to hit? Actually, I was almost certain that I was only attracted to horrible men. I mean, that was the only logical explanation. And that was why I had decided to never date again. Ever. Because I couldn’t be trusted to pick the right kind of guy. You know, one that will tell the truth, actually like me, and not treat me like total and complete shit. Little things like that. I couldn’t be trusted, so I had made the decision to live out my days alone in my side of this lovely duplex, collecting rent from whoever passed through the other apartment and making videos until that ship sailed. Eventually, I’d probably get a couple of cats to keep me company, but whatever. Anything beat being made a fool of for a third time. Anything, including utilizing my brand new Rabbit5000 vibrator. Shit, vibratory sex was the best sex I’d ever had anyway, because neither Khalil nor Benny gave a damn about trying to satisfy me.

  I shook my head at myself. I could kill Nicky for saying that mess to me and jacking up my mind and reminding me of both my stupidity and my loneliness. Yes, I was lonely, lonely as hell, had shut all of my friends out long ago. But that was just the price I’d had to pay to keep my sanity…and my pride.

  I sighed as I stood and made my way to the kitchen to grab a soda and some chips. Maybe I could snack my way to being productive.

  *****

  Sitting in front of my TV watching a DVR’d episode of Greenleaf, I sighed as I thought about Renee. I hadn’t talked to her since Nicky’s little birthday celebration at the club, and I was worried about her. Well, I always worried about her, but this was a little different. Renee was nothing if not extremely forgiving. No matter what Nicky or I said to her, she usually made a point of calling us every week just to chat. It’d been a couple of weeks since me and Nicky attacked her, and we shouldn’t have done that. Although she was the oldest, she was also the most fragile emotionally, and Robert had taken her to hell and back. Instead of deriding her for staying with him, we should’ve at least been kind of supportive, but it was so hard when you knew she deserved much, much better. I hoped she was okay.

  I glanced at my phone and told myself hoping didn’t make any sense when all I had to do was dial her number, but see, the problem with that was I never knew when she and Robert were into it about something. I had stopped calling her years ago after she answered the phone in tears and I went over there and cursed Robert out. She had caught him cheating and they’d had an argument during which he called her every name in the book, mad because he was caught. So I told him about himself and took my sister home with me.

  She went back to him a week later.

  I shook my head. I couldn’t take a chance on a repeat of that fiasco. I’d just have to wait her out.

  3

  I finally broke weak and called Renee at work. I hated doing that, because although she was co-owner of the birthing center, I never knew if she was in the middle of delivering a baby or something. After all, she was a midwife. But she’d left me with no choice. I hadn’t talked to Nicky either since our blow up, but Nicky was tougher than Renee, and she wasn’t voluntarily dealing with an ass-hat of a husband, either.

  “Genesis Birthing Center, Janine speaking.”

  “Hey, Janine. This is Angela Strickland. Is Renee busy right now?”

  “No…I think she’s eating lunch in her office, actually.”

  “Oh, good. Can you put me through to her?”

  “Sure. Hey, I loved that video you did on head wraps! I’m wearing a turban wrap right now.”

  “I bet you look good in it, too! You ready to go natural yet?”

  “Girl, no! I’m still addicted to the creamy crack!”

  I chuckled. I had been trying to convert Janine to #teamnatural for years. Janine was Renee’s age, and we’d all grown up in the same neighborhood. We’d known her since we were kids, and she’d been the receptionist at Genesis since Renee and her business partner, Cassandra, opened it five years earlier. “I’m gonna wear you down, eventually.”

  “You know, I hope you do! Because if I look as good as you with my hair natural, I just might get me a husband.”

  It hasn’t worked for me, I thought. “I hear you.”

  “All right, girl. It was great chatting with you. Putting you through to Renee. Have a great rest of the day.”

  “Thanks, Janine.”

  The next voice I heard was my big sister’s. “Renee Mattison.”

  “Hey, Nay. Glad to know you haven’t fallen off the face of the earth.”

  “Hmm, I was under the impression you wanted me to disappear, the way you and Nicky treat me sometimes.”

  I looked up from my smoothie and gazed at the people streaming into the café for a moment as I chose my words carefully. “You know that’s not what I want. How’ve you been?”

  “Fine. Good. Busy.”

  “Not working too hard, are you?”

  “No harder than usual.”

  A heavy silence fell between us, and I closed my eyes and decided to bite the bullet. “Look, Renee, I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  Damn, she just wasn’t going to make this easy for me. “For what I said at the club the other week.”

  “For what you said about my husband?”

  Shit, she was taking this too far. “For saying something that hurt your feelings.”

  “About my husband…”

  “Damn, Renee! I’m trying to apologize to you.” I looked around, saw a couple of people looking at me, and lowered my voice. “You are my big sister and I love you and I miss talking to you, but I am not going to sit here and pretend Robert is a good person or that I respect him, because I don’t.”

  “I’m not asking you to do anything but respect me and my decision to stay in my marriage, my ten-year marriage, the same way I respected you when you were in your relationships no matter how I felt about Benny or Khalil.”

  Well, damn. Another gut punch from one of my sisters. What was this? Make Angie feel like shit month? I couldn’t do anything but hold the phone.

  “See, doesn’t feel good for someone to bring up your past troubles, does it?”

  “Did I bring up your past troubles, Nay? Last I checked, you were still with him.”

  “And we’ve worked things out and are getting along much better now, but do you think it makes it any easier for me to move on with my life with him when you keep throwing our past at me? Would you like for me to do that to you?”

  “You just did.”

  “And did you enjoy it?”

  “No…okay, I get your point. How about I just don’t bring Robert up anymore? Will that make you happy?”

  “You can bring him up, just don’t disrespect him.”

  “I’ll just stop bringing him up.”

  She sighed. “F
ine. So, when are you going to invite me to dinner?”

  I smiled. I was, by far, the best cook among the three of us, and everyone knew it. “I don’t know. Mama wants me to cook for her and Daddy’s anniversary dinner and that’s coming up soon, so I guess we can just wait until then. Haven’t been in much of a cooking mood lately.”

  “Why?”

  Because I’m lonely as hell. “I don’t know. Just haven’t.”

  “Where are you? I can hear people talking in the background.”

  “The Smoothie Hut.”

  “Ooooh, I love their smoothies!”

  “Yeah, I’ve been walking around posting flyers about my vacant apartment and decided to take a break in here. Want me to bring you one?”

  “No. I just had a salad for lunch. Tryna lose some of these pounds.”

  “Girl, I hear you. My ass has spread so wide, I’m about a centimeter from going up a size. If I keep on, I’ma have to start draping sheets over my body and belting them at the waist.”

  Renee laughed. “You need to stop. You’re gorgeous and you know it. I’m the only fat sister. Always have been.”

  “Renee, you’re the pretty sister and you know it.”

  “Yeah, everyone has always told me I have a pretty face. Like that’s a compliment or something.”

  “Yeah, people are assholes…hey, have you talked to Nicky since her birthday?”

  “Uh-huh. She called me to talk mess about you. She’s pissed you won’t let her move into your vacant apartment. I told her I didn’t blame you for not leasing it to an unemployed career student. Now she’s pissed at me, too.”

  I was just about to reply when I looked up and saw a sight that made me cringe. “Hey, I gotta call you back,” I said abruptly.

  “Oh, okay. Hey, I’m glad you called. Love you.”

  “Me, too. Love you back.”

  I ended the call and tried to figure out a way to sneak out of the crowded café without being seen. Finally, I said fuck it and stood up, having decided to just walk out of the place with my head held high. I was at the door when I heard, “Angie?”

  I kept walking. After all, the place was packed and they were playing some pseudo-Caribbean music over the sound system and people were talking, so it was possible that I just didn’t hear him.

  I was almost at my car when I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Angie?” he repeated.

  I sighed and turned around to face him. “Hey, Benny,” I said softly.

  He looked the same—tall, athletic build, smooth chocolate skin, piercing dark eyes. And behind him stood his lovely wife, Joslyn…and their three or four or five kids. All boys, because Benny came from a family of boy breeders.

  “Hey! I thought that was you! So did Joslyn.”

  I didn’t bother speaking to Joslyn. There was just something about your high school best friend sleeping with your boyfriend while he’s still your boyfriend and she’s still your friend and then marrying him less than a month after he breaks up with you that makes it hard for a girl to smile and say, “Hi.” Ten years had passed, but that kind of thing was just hard to get over.

  Probably sensing that a warm reunion was not on the horizon, she said, “I’m gonna go on in and order something for the boys,” to Benny and gave me a little nod before herding her kids in the opposite direction.

  “So, how’ve you been?” he asked with this huge grin on his face.

  I couldn’t exactly say I was still recovering from a three-year-old break-up, have an intimate relationship with a vibrator, and spend most of my nights cuddled up in bed watching Netflix or YouTube videos, so I said, “Bye, Benny.”

  As I pulled the door open and slid into my car, he moved closer to me, and said, “Angie…”

  I looked up at him with a furrowed brow. There was something odd about his voice.

  He glanced back at the café and then fixed his eyes on me again. “I should’ve said this years ago. I’m-I’m sorry.”

  I stared at him and felt his sincerity in my heart, but still, I slammed the door shut and started my car. I sat there and watched him hang his head as he headed back into the café, and then I left the parking lot.

  *****

  “Hi, my name is Ryan Boyé, and I’m calling about the duplex apartment you have for rent. Is this Angela Strickland?”

  I activated the speakerphone and laid the phone on my bed next to me as I continued taking my faux locks down. They were well past their time. “Yes, this is she. What do you want to know about the apartment?”

  “Well, I was actually hoping I could see it tonight. I’m leaving town in the morning, been looking for a place to stay all day. Saw your flyer at the Aragon Café a few minutes ago and thought I’d see if it was still vacant.”

  “It is, but this is really short notice, and well, you’re a man. I don’t usually show men the unit by myself…”

  “I can understand that, but I’m in a crunch, and I promise I’m not a dangerous person…”

  I blew out a frustrated breath. On one hand, the space had been vacant for two months now, and I was missing that income terribly. I’d already had to dip into my savings a couple of times, and there were a couple of hair events I wanted to attend—if I could make myself leave town—that the rent money would pretty much cover. On the other hand, he was a man, and I didn’t trust men on any level. I wasn’t lying when I said I usually never showed men the apartment alone. Normally, Renee or Nicky accompanied me. Nicky was evidently still pissed at me since she wasn’t returning any of my calls, and I didn’t want to call Renee and interrupt whatever quality time she might have been spending with Robert since I knew she wasn’t on-call for the birthing center that night.

  “Can you hold on a second?” I asked.

  “Sure…”

  I picked up the phone and texted Nicky.

  Me: Hey, I know you’re pissed at me and everything, but if you don’t hear from me in a couple of hours, call the police.

  Nicky: What???

  Me: I’ll explain later.

  Nicky: Okay…

  Well, at least she still cared about my well-being.

  “Okay, I’m back,” I said into the phone. “What time do you want to come this evening?”

  “Well, I’m parked in your driveway right now.”

  “Oh, okay. Um, give me a second and I’ll meet you over there. A is mine. B is the vacant unit.”

  “Yeah, I remember that from the flyer. I’ll be over there waiting.”

  I hung up and hopped out of the bed, glancing down at the pajamas I had on and debating in my mind whether or not I should put on some clothes. It only took me a second to decide it would be best to get dressed. I pulled on a pair of jeans, and a “black girl magic” t-shirt, wrapped my head, which was part faux locks and part nappy, linty afro, in a colorful scarf, and slid on some lip gloss before stepping out onto the porch the duplex apartments shared and walking over to meet Mr. Boyé.

  His silhouette was tall and trim, but since I still hadn’t replaced the bulb outside the door, I couldn’t see his features. Not that it mattered. He could’ve been butt ugly as long as he passed the background and credit checks and could pay the rent.

  He wasn’t.

  As a matter of fact, the man was so handsome, I started feeling all nervous and jumpy and shit. My God! He was absolutely beautiful.

  After I led him into the living room of the vacancy and flipped the switch by the door, bathing the room in soft light, I turned and got an eyeful of a level of handsomeness I’d never witnessed before—tall, muscular in a slim, un-hulkish way, terra cotta skin, hazel eyes that seemed to look into my soul, thick, curly hair cut low, a nose that had to be the envy of anyone who’d ever desired rhinoplasty, a bright white smile framed by a full, neatly-trimmed beard and mustache, full lips. Shit!

  I wasn’t usually attracted to light-skinned men, but I’ll be damned if my ovaries weren’t quivering at the sight of him. Hell, he was so fine, my mama’s ovaries were probably quaking.


  He extended his hand, and for the life of me, I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do with it.

  “Ryan Boyé,” he said in that accent I’d tried to identify during our short phone conversation. He wasn’t native to Tennessee, for sure, but he was definitely from the south. His accent kind of reminded me of a lady who worked with me at a restaurant a few years back. She was from Louisiana and had been displaced here to Romey, Tennessee, by Hurricane Katrina.

  I stared down at his hand for another half a minute before clutching it, noticing how much larger it was than mine. “Um…Angela Strickland.”

  Still wearing a smile that made my loins shudder, he said, “Pleased to meet you.”

  I freed my hand from his and nodded. “So, this is the place, and there’s a gym a couple of blocks from here if you’re into working out.” And it looks like you are, as fine as your ass is. “Um…three bedrooms, one bath, living room, eat-in kitchen. I’m sure you noticed there are two separate driveways, and the backyard is huge and divided by a fence, so essentially, each unit has its own private backyard. Um, all appliances are included, plus a small washer and dryer. Feel free to look around if you want.”

  He reached up and rubbed his beard. “Okay. I will.”

  As he walked towards the kitchen, I stared at his ass, and said, “Take your time.”

  I leaned against the wall as he strolled from room to room and tried to catch my breath. This man had me feeling things in places that had lain dormant for a long, long time. He had my hand trembling and my head reeling. He was too good-looking, if there a such a thing. He was so fine, I seriously felt like I was going to have a panic attack or something.

  “Wow, this place is huge,” he called from somewhere in the back of the apartment.