God's Gift to Women Read online

  When I walked into the office, Old Man Johnson was in his usual position, feet propped up on the counter, cigar in his mouth, and holding his remote control. He was a short, chubby man with bad skin and a thick gray beard. If it wasn’t for his cranky personality and foul language he would have made one helluva Santa Claus.

  “I can see nothin’ has changed around this joint.”

  “Hey, Firebird!” He sprang up from his chair, came from behind the bulletproof glass, and gave me a hug. “Boy, just look at ya, ain’t changed a bit. Glad to see ya all grown up and successful!”

  “Well, I’ve been grown up for a while, but the success is brand-new.”

  “Glad life is treating you so well. Most of the guys you grew up with are either dead or in jail,” he said while reaching for a key on the wall. “But I know you didn’t come down here to talk about the good ole days. Here’s the key to Eddie’s room. If you need anything, give me a holla.”

  “I’m sure everything is okay. He’s probably passed out from drinking too much.”

  I hurried down to Eddie’s room, which was at the end of the lot. I tried to see through the window, but the curtains were drawn too tight. I could hear the television playing. I banged on the door with my fist. “Eddie, you in there?” I yelled. “It’s me, Julian!” But there was no reply.

  My heart raced as I put the key in the lock and slowly pushed the door open. The room was dark, except for the light from the television. I reached over and switched on the lights. To my surprise, the room was empty. The linen on the bed was a mess and liquor bottles were all over the place. A six-pack of Barcardi coolers was on the dresser, a half pint of Hennessy on the night stand, and a forty-ounce bottle of Olde English 800 malt liquor was wasted on the floor next to the bed. There was even a half-smoked joint in the ashtray. But there was no sign of Eddie. No clothes, no shoes, no nothing.

  Suddenly I heard a noise coming from the bathroom. I picked up the empty malt liquor bottle and slowly approached the door. “Eddie, is that you?” I said nervously. “Whoever you are, come out! I’ve got a gun and I’ll blow your fuckin’ brains out!”

  Once I got closer, I put my ear to the door. I heard a muffled sound—“Mm, mm!” My heart was beating a hundred miles an hour. I was scared to death, but I had to make my move. I took a deep breath, gripped my malt liquor bottle, and began counting, “One—two—three,” then I kicked in the door.

  “What the—?” I shouted as I looked down at the floor. I couldn’t believe my eyes. There was Eddie, butt naked, handcuffed to the toilet with a pair of lace pink panties on. His mouth was covered with duct tape and his feet were bound with rope. When I removed the tape, I expected him to be hysterical.

  “Hey, man, what took you so long?”

  “Is that all you have to say? You scared the shit out of me!”

  “Can we discuss your anxiety after you take these goddamn panties off me?”

  Just then, Old Man Johnson came running into the room, pointing his pistol.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Everything is cool, Mr. Johnson,” I told him. “Just stay where you are. Don’t come in here!”

  “You must be crazy,” he said as he walked toward the bathroom. “This is my establishment. I have a right to know what’s going on.”

  When he looked down at Eddie handcuffed to the toilet seat with the panties over his big butt, he burst out laughing.

  “Hey, man, if you wanna get freaky with fixtures it’s gonna cost you extra.”

  “Very funny, you old bastard. Just go get something to take these cuffs off with.”

  “Okay, I’ll be right back,” Mr. Johnson said as he backed out the door. “But don’t get mad at me, Mr. Plumber. I’m not the one who chained your big ass to the toilet.”

  I was laughing so hard I almost pissed on myself. Eddie tried not to laugh, but he couldn’t hold it in. While we waited for Mr. Johnson to get back, I untied the rope and tore the panties from around Eddie’s waist.

  “You know I can’t wait to hear this story.” I sat down on the edge of the tub. “What happened?”

  “I ran into the wrong women, that’s what happened.”

  “Women? You mean you had a threesome up in here?”

  “Stop acting so surprised. It’s not the first time.”

  “Yeah, but it’s the first time they jacked you for your drawers.”

  “Don’t forget my wallet, jewelry, cell phone, and camera equipment.”

  “But how in the world did they get your big ass handcuffed to the toilet?”

  “The hell if I know. The last thing I remember was lying on my back getting a massage. They must have drugged me with something. I was so high I didn’t feel it coming.”

  Eddie stood six-five, weighed two-hundred-thirty pounds, and was very muscular. His skin was dark brown and his face was smooth, no mustache, no beard. In high school we called him Fast Eddie because he was quick to get into women’s pants. I guess he was too quick for his own good that night.

  “You want me to call the cops?”

  “Hell, no! Are you crazy? How would I explain this to Denise if the case went to court? I’ll just take the loss and chalk it up to experience.”

  Just then Mr. Johnson came strolling in with a laundry bag and a bobby pin. It took him all of thirty seconds to pick the lock.

  “Here are some old clothes from the lost and found. Don’t worry—they’re clean,” he said while unpacking the bag. “The shirt should fit, but the pants might be a little tight.”

  He pulled out a bright orange long-sleeve double-knit shirt and a pair of purple polyester pants. Eddie put them on and then checked himself in the mirror.

  “Man, I look like a poor-ass pimp!”

  “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

  “I guess you’re right. Thanks, old man.”

  “Don’t mention it—Prince.”

  Mr. Johnson left the room, laughing so hard tears were running down his cheeks. Eddie was getting upset, so I tried not to make matters worse by joining in.

  “You know I’m never gonna hear the end of this.”

  “You got that right,” I told him. “We’ll be talking about this one for a long time.”

  “Speaking of a long time, I haven’t taken a piss in twelve hours. If I don’t go soon, there’s gonna be a flash flood up in here.” He closed the bathroom door.

  “By the way, I told Denise that you were on a photo shoot on Lake Michigan with a client who was advertising sunscreen.”

  “I know she didn’t buy that weak line.”

  “No, I don’t think so,” I said. “But she did say she was coming out tonight to help me celebrate. So I guess she wasn’t too upset.”

  “Don’t worry about Denise. She’s whipped!”

  “I don’t know, man, sounds like she’s getting fed up.”

  “That woman’s been trying to walk away from me for the past three years,” Eddie said arrogantly. “If she had the power to leave me she would’ve done it a long time ago.”

  “You need to seriously consider settling down and doing the right thing, Eddie. Denise is a damn good woman.”

  “Don’t start with that again, Julian. I don’t want to hear it— not today.”

  “All I’m saying is, this whorish lifestyle is catching up with you. Can’t you see that this incident is a sign that you need to chill out?”

  When he came out of the bathroom he had an irritated look on his face. I should have left it alone, but I didn’t.

  “Eddie, you’re thirty-five years old, you have your own business and a woman who’s been with you through thick and thin. Denise even co-signed on the lease for your studio because your credit was shot. Why can’t you just—”

  “That’s enough!” He cut me off. “Denise this, Denise that. If you think she’s such a great fuckin’ woman, why don’t you marry her? If I’m not mistaken, you don’t have a wife!”

  The room became silent and tense. I looked him dead in the eye, th
en headed for the door. Just as I was about to turn the knob, Eddie pressed his hand against the door.

  “Wait a minute, Julian. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it, you’re right. It’s none of my business.”

  “No, I was out of line. I know you’re only trying to look out for me. You’ve been like a big brother to me ever since high school. That’s twenty years of blood, sweat, and tears. I’m not gonna throw that away because of an argument over a woman! But this is my life and I have a right to live it my way. If that means having sex with one woman or one hundred, that’s my choice. Denise has always known what I was about and she accepts me. All I’m asking from you as a friend is to do the same.”

  “You’re right, Eddie.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “Sometimes friends think they know what’s best for each other when all that should matter is their happiness. It’s obvious that you’re happy living your life the way you do,” I said to him. “But I want you to know that the reason I’m so hard on you is because I love you.”

  “I love you, too, man,” he said, then we hugged.

  “Just promise me one thing, Eddie.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Try to be more careful. This AIDS epidemic is real, not to mention all the crazy women out there. Look at what happened to you.”

  “Okay, I promise.” He raised his hand as if he was taking an oath. “From now on, I’ll only pick up women at church and Bible study.” He laughed. “Those are the biggest freaks anyway.”

  “Man, you’re hopeless.”

  Chapter 4

  THE CLOCK IN my Camry read 11:30 as I approached Club Nimbus. People were waiting in a line that wrapped around the corner of LaSalle and Lake Street. They looked elegant in their designer business suits and long cocktail dresses. No expense was spared to look the part. Club Nimbus was a popular hangout for the booshie types who liked to flaunt their success. I just liked the old school music and buffalo wings. But the real attraction was the multicultural atmosphere, which basically meant it was a place where white women could flirt openly with black men. That was a rarity in a city as segregated as Chicago.

  The club also had a reputation for attracting professional athletes, entertainers, and wannabes. If you flashed an impressive business card or drove a Benz, you were instantly somebody. So when I rolled up in my beat-up Camry it was obvious that the women were not impressed. I smiled to myself as I strutted by them and went directly to the front of the line. The entrance was roped off and guarded by two bouncers. One of them was checking IDs when I walked over and tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Whassup, Paul?”

  “Hey, Julian! I was hoping you wouldn’t leave town without saying good-bye to us little people.”

  “You know me, Paul. I always keep it real.”

  “Sometimes money has a way of changing a man.”

  “Having money is just like drinking too much liquor, all it does is expose a person for who he really is.”

  “That’s deep. Let me write that one down.” He lifted the rope to let me in. “Have a good time.”

  “Oh, by the way, Paul, did you get my message about putting Eddie on the VIP list?”

  “He’s already here. Him and his lady arrived about an hour ago.”

  “Cool!”

  When I walked into the foyer my body began to vibrate to the thumping bass of the music.“To Be Real” by Cheryl Lynn was jammin’ in the back room. The atmosphere was electric with the sound of casual chatter and the air was filled with the aroma of perfumes and colognes. Women of all nationalities lined the walls wearing skimpy dresses and heavy makeup— some had hair extensions down their backs. The men, who were mostly dressed in business suits, looked like hungry vultures waiting on something to die. Every woman who walked by was subject to have her ass inspected.

  The layout of the club was very stylish. The dining area had two levels with a huge circular bar in the middle. There was another bar that ran the full length of the back wall. We called it the Perch because it had a view of the entire club. It was prime real estate for any man or woman on the prowl for fresh meat. Not to my surprise, Eddie was sitting right in the middle and smiling like a kid in a candy store. I snuck up from behind so he couldn’t see me coming.

  “Hey, man, stop lookin’ at my woman!” I said, trying to disguise my voice.

  “Hey, fool, what took you so long?” He stood up and gave me a hug. “We’ve been waiting for you for over an hour.”

  “Sorry, I was, uh, all tied up.”

  “So now you got jokes, huh? Sit your butt down and have a drink,” he said while flagging down the bartender. “Give me another shot of Hennessy!”

  “So, where’s Denise?”

  “She went to the bathroom with her girlfriend. You know how women are, they have to do everything together. They even pee in groups. You never see two guys look at each other and go, Hey, man, you wanna go to the bathroom?”

  “Wait a second, did you say girlfriend? Don’t tell me she went behind my back again!”

  “Julian, you know Denise is the matchmaker from hell. For some strange reason she thinks you’re a good man. I don’t have the heart to tell her you were one of the biggest ’hos in Chicago.”

  “Who, me?”

  “Nigga, please! Don’t play that holier-than-thou role. Before you got married you screwed more women than Hugh Hefner and Wilt Chamberlain put together.”

  Just then the bartender set my drink in front of me.

  “Okay, I admit it, I was a ’ho.” I lifted my glass. “Let’s make a toast—to the Twelve Step ’Ho Rehab Program. May I never relapse.”

  “Hear! Hear!”

  As I sipped on my drink, I saw Denise coming down the aisle. She looked elegant in the black halter dress she was wearing. At six-two she demanded attention from every man in the room, which only served to confuse me as to why she had put up with Eddie’s nonsense for three years. She was a successful model, very intelligent, and had just turned thirty years old. Love must do strange things to a woman’s self-esteem, I was thinking.

  “Hey, Li’l Sis!” I kissed her on the cheek. “Long time no see!”

  “It’s great seeing you, too, Julian. You lookin’ good for an old man.”

  “You ain’t lookin’ bad yourself.”

  “I’m sure Eddie already told you about my friend.”

  “Of course he did!” I gave her that look. “Denise, I told you—I’m not interested in a relationship, especially not a longdistance one.”

  “Julian, I promise you, I didn’t invite her. I don’t even recall mentioning I was coming here tonight.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “I swear to God.” She raised her hand. “Maybe it’s just fate.”

  “Fate must be wearing a black halter dress,” I laughed. “But I’m not gonna let your matchmaking ruin my evening. I’m gonna enjoy myself tonight, then fly outta here in the morning. That seems to be the only way I can get away from Ms. Love Connection.”

  “Forget you, Julian!”

  “I love you, too, Li’l Sis! So, where’s this perfect woman with the great personality? And she’d better not be ugly!”

  I checked the expression on Eddie’s face. He gave me a nod and a slight grin. That told me she was at least a seven and a half or eight.

  “Why don’t you judge for yourself?” Denise said. “Here she comes now.”

  I damn near choked on my drink when I saw her walking down the stairs toward us. She had dark, shoulder-length hair, highlighted with light brown streaks. It was silky and full of body, like she had just stepped out of a commercial for Dark and Lovely. The dress she had on was sharp. It was red silk with thin shoulder straps. Her skin was a flawless caramel tone. She reminded me of a young Diahann Carroll as she elegantly glided down the stairs.

  As she grew closer I noticed that the dress was a slit way up to her midthigh, which exposed a toned leg. She set it off with a thin gold ankle bracelet. But her most unique attribute
was her hazel eyes. They were the kind that could put a man in a trance.

  “Olivia Brown, Julian Payne,” Denise said formally.

  “Hello, Julian,” she said in a soft and oddly familiar voice. Then she reached out and shook my hand. “And by the way, they are real.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Eventually the question comes up about my eyes: I just thought I would get it out of the way.”

  “I see you like to be direct.”

  “Does that intimidate you?”

  “No, actually I admire a woman who speaks her mind.”

  “Well, in that case, you’re lookin’ exceptionally fine this evening. And I love the combination of the white mock and French blue jacket. Is that Hugo Boss?”

  “I’m impressed! It’s rare that you meet a woman who knows men’s clothing.”

  “My father was a designer in Europe. He taught me a lot about fashion”—she paused—“just before he ran off with some twenty-year-old floozie.”

  Denise and Eddie were sitting there eating it up. It had been a while since I had shown a woman any real interest. Each time Olivia said something interesting, Denise would nudge Eddie as if to say I told you he’d like her.

  “Well, we’re going to leave you two fashion police alone so you can get better acquainted,” Denise said. “Come on, Eddie, let’s dance!”

  “Hold down the fort, partner, I’ll be right back.” Eddie set down his drink and removed his jacket. “I’ve gotta go school this young girl on how grown folks party.”

  “Yeah, right, the last time we went out you tried to moon-walk and sprained your ankle.” She laughed as she dragged him away. “Come on, Grandpa!”

  I invited Olivia to sit down at the bar and then asked her what she wanted to drink. I assumed she wanted something sweet and girlie, but instead she ordered a Long Island. When she crossed her legs and turned toward me, I instantly got an erection. I quickly grabbed Eddie’s jacket and placed it over my lap.

  “Are you getting warm?” she said seductively.

  “Just a little; alcohol sometimes has that effect on me.”