Any Way the Wind Blows - E. Lynn Harris [41]
“Caller, are you still there?” Doug asked.
“She knows what I mean,” she said, and then we heard a dial tone in the dimly lit studio.
“I wondered what’s her problem?” Dee Dee said as I breathed a sigh of relief and gave them both a weak smile.
When I left the studio and reached the lobby, my cell phone started ringing. The caller I.D. said “out of area” so I knew it wasn’t Ava or Basil. I thought it might be the person who had just called the station, and I suddenly felt like I was ready to confront whoever was playing games with me. I clicked the talk button and screamed, “Who is this? Hello.”
“Damn, baby, you get up on the wrong side of the bed? Do you miss me, baby?”
“Malik, why are you calling me so early?” I asked. I looked at my watch and noticed it was a little before nine, which meant it was before sunrise on the West Coast.
“It’s never too early to talk with my star,” he said.
“What do you want?”
“I’m just wondering why I haven’t heard from you. Haven’t you been getting my calls? I even called Motown. Did you get that message?”
“No, I didn’t. So you’ve been calling my cell. I don’t have it on all the time,” I lied. The truth was I was avoiding talking to Malik, hoping he would get the message that I didn’t need him anymore in bed or out. I decided no one could manage Yancey better than Yancey. I wondered if he was behind the calls and photos but then realized he had no way of knowing I had a child. Even though Ava had made me aware that with a little bit of money a person could find out almost anything about anyone.
“Then give me the number at your house,” Malik said.
“What?” I said as I walked out of the revolving doors into the cold winter air.
“Give me your number at home.”
“Hello? Hello? I can’t hear you. I’ll call you later,” I said as I hit the End button and smiled to myself at how easy it was to hang up on someone with a cell phone and blame it on the service.
Do You Hear What I Hear?
I came home after waiting tables at the Viceroy, emptied my tips on my bed, and stripped down naked. I got on my knees and counted the night’s take. Two hundred and fifty-six dollars, not bad for a Tuesday night, I thought. I took out my tip journal and wrote down “$126,” in case I got audited by the IRS, then placed the money in the leather pouch I kept my money in until I made my weekly visit to the bank.
I looked at my answering machine and was a little disappointed the message light was not flashing. It had been several days since I’d heard Basil’s voice, and I was determined to speak with him tonight even if I had to wait all night or make another surprise visit. I thought after my last visit I would hear from him more often. I had to hear him whisper “It’s all love” once more. I couldn’t remember the last time a man had said he loved me and I believed him.
I walked into my bathroom and turned on my shower. While I was waiting for the water to warm up, I lit a piece of jasmine incense and covered my face with Noxzema skin cream. I stepped into the shower and relaxed as the warm water ran like a river down my body. The water felt almost hypnotic. Five minutes later, I stepped out of the shower, drenched myself in baby oil and grabbed a yellow striped towel to wipe off my body. I wrapped the damp towel around my waist and walked into my bedroom. My apartment was quiet, almost peaceful, as I put my Mary J. Blige CD in my stereo system.
After a glass and a half of wine, I started thinking about love and being held by Basil’s strong arms. I had to see him, so I muted Mary’s voice and picked up my phone. Basil’s number rang a couple of times and then I heard his deep, sexy voice. My heart started pounding with excitement, like I had just received a call telling me I had won the lotto.
“’Sup,” Basil said.
“How you doing?” I asked nervously.
“’Sup, dude,” Basil said.
“Is this