Monday, September 17, 2007

Enticing Mr. Wrong - Ch. 18.2

In the guestroom, Aisha stirred from her slumber at the sound of a ringing doorbell. It took her a few moments to remember where she was.

Bonz’s house.

Springing upright at that realization, Aisha endeavored to quickly get her toiletries out the way, dress, and leave. She’d eat later. She didn’t want to get too comfortable here, despite how comfortable Bonz had made her. Despite how heavenly those 1000-thread count sheets had been.

Aisha only had 800-count sheets on her bed at home. After sleeping in such luxury last night, she was definitely going to have to rise to the next level.

Opening the bedroom door, Aisha prepared to make her way to the bathroom. She was hindered by several black and white packages crowding the doorway. Looking down, she smiled knowingly.

These kinds of gifts might work on other women, but not on me, Aisha mused, shaking her head at Bonz’s antics. Even still she couldn’t deny the sense of excitement she felt when she brought the bags into the bedroom for a thorough look-see.

Out came jeans, silk blouses, one pair of stilettos, two pairs of flats and…lingerie?

Hot tingles attacked Aisha’s spine to know that Bonz had taken the time to pick out such delicacies for her. Each bra and panty set was made with quality. Matter of fact, everything that came out of those black and white bags was quality made and in her right size, too.

Tops & Bottoms, Aisha silently noted the name of the store where the items had been purchased from. Always on the lookout for quality clothing regardless of price, she resolved to put this store on her list of places to check out when her busy schedule allowed.

I might have to buy a whole new wardrobe soon anyway. Especially if I lost everything in the fire, Aisha mused, suddenly remembering why she was even at Bonz’s house.

Dropping the lingerie on the bed, she ran over to her purse and retrieved her cell phone. Three minutes into her call with Mr. Banks, the apartment manager, Aisha smiled.

She sighed in relief and her body relaxed completely with the news that her building had not burned down after all, thanks in large part to a fast-acting neighbor and a bunch of brave firemen. The fact that it had rained earlier last night also helped because it left the edifice less combustible.

The most Aisha and her neighbors would have to worry about was smoke and water damage. But even that was minimal on her side of the building, which had been the furthest away from the main fire. That also brought a sense of relief.

“When can I pick up a spare key?” Aisha asked, remembering where she’d left her key ring. “I ran out so fast last night that I left my keys behind.”

“Anytime you want. The office will be fully staffed around the clock for the next three days,” Mr. Banks replied in a tired voice. He obviously had been working overtime already behind this incident.

Aisha let out another sigh of relief. “Thanks, Mr. Banks. By the way, does anyone know what started last night’s fire yet?”

“Yes.” Mr. Banks blew out a frustrated breath. “Mrs. Gayle in Apt. D-8. Unable to sleep last night, she decided to warm up some milk. While it was slowly heating up, she fell asleep in a chair. She woke up to flames and the shrill of the smoke alarm. The sudden shock gave her a heart attack.”

“A heart attack?!” Aisha gasped. “Is she all right?” She didn’t personally know Mrs. Gayle, but she had seen the ninety-ish lady around the complex many times. They always exchanged polite smiles and pleasantries.

“She’s fine now, thanks to her next door neighbor who called the fire department and who’d also been entrusted with a key to Mrs. Gayle’s place by the woman’s son. They got her out of there just in time to save her life, but not before other units begin to catch afire.”

“I’m just glad no one died. Hopefully Mrs. Gayle’s son will take her to live with him after all this,” Aisha replied. Had either of her parents lived to get as old as Mrs. Gayle, she would have never let them live alone. They would have lived with her, no arguments allowed.

“Either way, she can not return to this apartment complex,” Mr. Banks said with a trace of irritation in his voice, no doubt from lack of sleep.

Aisha nodded in understanding. Mrs. Gayle had violated their detailed lease agreement with her negligence last night. At least that’s something worth getting kicked out for, Aisha mused. The last ousted tenant had only been playing loud music too late at night before she was thrown out of the strict complex.

“Well, that’s even more reason for her son to take her in,” Aisha said aloud, bringing the current conversation to an end. Then after thanking Mr. Banks once again for keeping the office open so long, she hung up and returned to her gifts.

Picking up the lingerie again, Aisha suddenly saw a note attached to a pair of magenta-colored boyshorts. Closer examination of the note revealed that it was actually a free verse poem that Bonz had written for her.

The poem read:

“I envy this lingerie.

It gets to be

Where I want to be.

I envy the pillow you slept on.

I want your head

To rest on me.

I envy the sheets that covered your body.

I want to cover you

With me.”

By the last verse, Aisha was in need of a serious cold shower. It took everything in her not to find that delicious poet immediately and give him the biggest kiss of his life…among other things.

Instead Aisha forced herself down the hallway towards the bathroom, determined to cool off before she saw Bonz again. After that big speech she gave last night, it would be hypocritical to sleep with him now. It would definitely be breaking her own get-to-know-him-first code.

Halfway to the bathroom with a complete outfit in hand, Aisha heard what sounded like E-Blade’s voice. She paused briefly to listen.

“Man, last night’s chick definitely knew how to drive a stick,” said the familiar voice. “I might have to take her out for another ride.”

Aisha frowned. Her frown deepened when she heard Racker and Bonz laugh soon thereafter. Oh, so it’s like that, huh? she mused, ready to make them all pay for that degrading comment even though it was about another female.

© 2005 by Suprina Frazier


Anonymous said...

UH OH. Bonz just lost some cool points for laughing at those comments. Men! Anyway, like always, Laquetta's prayers did the trick. Aisha's apartment didn't suffer too much damage.

P.S. I really liked that poem. Was it yours?

Tonia said...

Lov a brotha that can write poetry!
Can he sing too? That brotha is a hot mess

I like the way you show Bonz as thuggy as he wants to be but also show him as being more. I have male family members who are hustler/thugs that if you didn't get to know them , you wouldn't know that one plays a mean saxphone and writes beautiful music while another writes short stories that have been published.

Suprina said...

Marlene: Bonz is behaving normally, remember? He ain't changed that playa mindset yet.

And yes, that poem is mine. A sista can get real creative when she wanta. lol.

Yay for Laquetta's prayers. That girl is a prayer warrior.

Tonia: lol. You are so wild ("that brotha is a hot mess" I loved that part. tee-hee).

As for those thug/hustlers with the sensitive side, my family is bombarded with them. I love them all. Seems like a lot of other women do, too, because those brothers never lack companionship. lol.