Читать книгу A Rich Man's Baby - Daaimah S. Poole - Страница 12

I was preparing a healthy meal that consisted of a medley of vegetables, baked chicken, and brown rice. I had leaned over to turn my rice down when my cell phone rang.

“Hey, miss,” a voice sang out.

“What’s up, Stacey?” I asked as I drained the steaming pot of rice.

“I want you to come to my bridal shower. I need your address. It is very informal. Me and some of my friends are renting a stretch Hummer limo and having fun.”

I gave her my address; then she asked me what I was doing.

“Cooking.”

“Cooking dinner? Oh my God, you have a boyfriend,” she said excitedly.

“No, I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Whatever, you are going to have to update me when you get to work.”

I couldn’t wait until we got to work to fill her in. So I put the pot on the stove and said, “It’s my trainer.”

“Your trainer? I knew you were getting a little too toned,” she yelled.

She wasn’t lying. In three weeks, my body was firm. It was nice having a boyfriend and trainer in the same person. Our relationship was going at an accelerated pace, but it was good.

“I’ll see you when I get in,” I said as I cut my vegetables off.

Fifteen minutes later, I heard keys jingling in the door. Kyle walked into the apartment. I was just setting the table. I usually would never let a man I just met have keys to my house or stay with me. But it felt so good having someone around, and it wasn’t like I didn’t know him.

He washed his hands and began making his plate. He poured almost the entire pot of vegetables on his plate and half of a chicken breast. He then poured a giant-size glass of water. I didn’t really like sitting down with him to eat. It seemed like he was counting every calorie that went into my mouth. I put a few spoonfuls of rice, a full breast, and what was left of the vegetables on my plate.

“Don’t eat too much. I don’t want you to mess up how tight I got that butt,” he said. He was right. Since I’d been dealing with him, my abs and butt were tight as hell. I could go pose in a spread in any magazine now with no airbrushing.

“How was work today?” I asked.

“It was okay. I’m just going to have to drop you off at work because my car is giving me problems. I took it to the mechanic on the way home. He said it is going to be around four hundred.”

“What’s the matter with it?” I asked as I cut my chicken across with my knife and fork.

“The alternator and the fan belt. You think I could borrow the money until I get paid Friday?”

“Okay.”

“Can you go get the money out before you go to work? That way I don’t have to use your car again. I can drop my car off tonight.”

Before I went to work Kyle followed me to the ATM. As I withdrew the money out of the machine, something clicked in my head. Why am I getting his car fixed? I felt a little silly. But I knew once he got paid he would give me the money back.

Friday came and I didn’t hear from Kyle. The last time I talked to or saw him was when I put the money to get his car fixed in his hand. He had let three days go by without calling me. I wasn’t even calling him about my money. I was just trying to see if he was okay. I dialed his number and he didn’t answer his phone. That was strange, but I still didn’t panic. But by twelve I was almost in tears. We were dating for only a few weeks, but I felt so close to him and knew he wouldn’t stop calling me over money. I got out of my bed, drank some water, and tried to go to sleep thinking he would probably call me in the morning.

Hours later, I still couldn’t go to sleep because my neighbor’s car alarm kept going off. Now I was getting angry at Kyle. Damn. If nothing else, I thought we were friends.

Three days later, he was still not answering my telephone calls. I realized he had stayed with me for weeks and hadn’t brought anything but his dick into my apartment. I got used. However, I still needed answers—clarity, closure, comfort. It couldn’t be over just like that, no rhyme or reason. I was missing him so much, I didn’t know what to think.

I was really trying not to go up to the gym. If I did, I couldn’t guarantee that I wouldn’t act like a fool. I didn’t know what was going on with me or him. I think I got caught up in his pillow talk. It was real deep. I was still waiting for my phone to chirp, letting me know I had a text message from him. I knew he wouldn’t be ducking me over four hundred dollars. I sat there and analyzed our entire relationship from beginning to end a few times and then decided to leave him one last message. I started to get scared, like I really might not ever talk to him again. I needed to get my mind right. I was crazy, I know. I ran water. I poured a few bubbles in it. I placed my foot in the hot water. I wanted to put my head under for being so dumb, but I sat back and relaxed.

Then I heard my phone chirp. I jumped out of the bath without a towel, almost slipping. I prayed as I looked at my message. It was him. Thank you. And then I read the message:

I JUST CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE. WE ARE MOVING TOO FAST.

I wanted to throw my phone. I reread it to make sure I had seen it right. He couldn’t do what anymore? Come over to my house and eat my food, drive my car, borrow money from me? Yeah, that is a real chore to do. I was angry. He broke up with me by text message. That was so damn funny. Here it was I couldn’t think and had been going crazy the last couple of days worried about him. He ended our love affair by a goddamn text message.

I called him back and he didn’t answer. So I texted him back:

DON’T TEXT ME, TALK TO ME.

He didn’t respond and that was it. Kyle and I were over, and I needed to find a new gym.