No Perfect Affair

by Charmaine Galloway

Genres: African American Urban

Synopsis

Melody, Asia, and Sasha are successful women working in the careers they've always wanted. They excel in life, they excel in their chosen professions, but in their relationships, they fail miserably. From scandalous affairs and drug-induced sexcapades to secret pregnancies and death in a love triangle, these cousins have the personal drama on lock. But when backstabbing and betrayal infiltrate their relationships with one another, the once-tight trio quickly finds that blood is nowhere near as thick as water.

Come take a roller-coaster ride with these women and experience their drama, their deceit, and a little bit of their naughtiness as they each try to handle lust and lies of the most wicked kind.

Release date: November 28, 2017

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

I love my husband, but he was driving me straight to the crazy house. All he wanted was to get me pregnant. But I didn’t want no kids, and if he found out that I was on birth control, he probably would have killed me.

I could smell bacon frying and knew my husband was trying to pamper me by cooking me breakfast, but I wasn’t feelin’ it. I was lying comfortably on my black silk sheets, not wanting to get up because my head was throbbing from the Cîroc I drank the night before. I knew I shouldn’t have gone out with Melody and Asia. Every time I went out with them, I always drank too much and paid for it the morning after. But this time, as soon as I got home last night, my husband and I got into it.

“Babe, what I tell you about coming home drunk? We trying to have a baby. You need to let loose on the alcohol. If you can’t handle your liquor, then I’m not going to allow you to go out with yo’ irresponsible cousins,” he snapped at me as if I were his teenage daughter.

“Wait a damn minute! What do you mean you not going to allow me to go out? You need to dismiss yo’ self with that bull. I may have had a few drinks, but I ain’t drunk. You are not my daddy, and you are not going to sit there and tell me where I can and can’t go,” I spat as I took off my heels. I could feel the heat coming through my pores.

“Babe, I didn’t mean it like that. I just want to make sure you stay healthy, you know . . . so we can have a baby,” he said with compassion.

“You need to stop stressing me out. I’m not able to have any more kids!” I shouted as I walked away from him.

I had tried to convince him that after my miscarriage, my body wasn’t strong enough to produce another baby. I really wanted to tell him that there would be no baby. But it didn’t matter how many times or the different ways I told him; he wouldn’t listen to me.

“Sasha, don’t say that. I can feel it. We have been trying hard, and I know you will be pregnant pretty soon. And I can’t wait to be a father.” He grinned and took me in his arms. Then he continued, “Let’s make love right now.”

As horny as I was, I didn’t want to make love to my husband. He turned me off because he concentrated so hard on making a baby that he didn’t pay enough attention to me. He didn’t make me feel that passion that I needed to feel while making love to him. There was no connection or affection. All he did was gently slide his shaft inside of me because he thought I would break, pump a few times, explode in me, smile, and then roll over and pray that when we woke up I would be pregnant. He had a stash of pregnancy tests in the nightstand, and he would beg me to pee on the stick the day after he had his five minutes of fame.

It was not always like that. We had been married for two years, and I used to make passionate love to my husband. He definitely knew how to work my middle, and he knew how to keep my juices flowing. But after I had that miscarriage last year, he was devastated, and he hadn’t been the same since.

The only thing on his mind was having a baby and making sure that I kept my body healthy so I could get pregnant and carry the baby full term. I took the miscarriage as a sign that maybe it just wasn’t time for me to have a baby. If left up to me, we didn’t need any. We had enough running around my family. If I wanted to goo-goo and gaa-gaa with a baby, I could pick up one of Asia’s kids. And the best thing about that was that I could drop their behinds right back to their mammie.

Asia was my cousin, and the girl had more kids than I could remember. She had three, or maybe she had four. Hell, I don’t remember; I lost count. And they all looked different. They were all different races and had different daddies. That girl should’ve been ashamed of herself. And she treated her kids so wrong.

She did take good care of them. She gave them what they needed to survive, but she was so mean to them. She would call them out of their names and holler at them all day. Well, she was nice to her daughter, Angel, because she was her favorite, and she let everyone know that.

Asia, at times, couldn’t stand me. I didn’t know why because I ain’t never done nothing to her. I think she’s jealous because I had a husband, and I didn’t have any kids to stress me out. And she had a bunch of kids and couldn’t pull a good man, let alone a husband, if her life depended on it.

My other cousin, Melody, all I could do was shake my head when it came to her. She was driving herself crazy because she was in love with a man that apparently didn’t love her. She was in such denial of being his side chick. Yes, I hooked her up with Rodney a few years back. I thought they could have fun together, but she done went and fell in love with him.

I told her many times not to get all up in her feelings with every man she met, but, naw, she had to get all emotional and attached to the “D” that she didn’t know what to do with herself. But I rooted for them. I hoped Rodney would get his stuff together.

“Bebe, your breakfast is served,” my husband, Jonathan, said, pulling me from my thoughts. He walked into our spacious bedroom with one of my good bath towels wrapped around his waist and a tray with pancakes, eggs, bacon, and a red rose on it.

Oh, Lawd! He was trying to be romantic so he could pump his wannabe-baby-making-sperm in me after he fed me breakfast. “Thanks, Jay.” I plastered on a smile.

“Anything for you, beautiful.” He smiled and kissed me on my cheek. “Did you get a chance to take the test this morning? Last night was great. I think I might have hit a home run,” he said, rubbing his hands together.

Sometimes my husband could be so corny, and I wanted to slap him upside his head when he said the dumbest things. “Yes, I did. It was negative,” I lied about taking the test. I knew it was going to be negative.

“Well, soon as you are done eating, we can try again.” He stood and let his towel drop to the floor. Then he put his hands on his hips like he was Spider-Man or Superman—one of those damn superheroes, and said, “Daddy is ready.”

Well, I’m not.

I almost choked on my food as I glared at his limp penis. He just didn’t know, but there wouldn’t be no damn baby coming out of me. And I was tired of his boring sex.

“Mel, I love spending time with you, but I look at you as only a friend and not as my woman.”

“What! What are you trying to tell me?” I stammered over my words as I swallowed the dry lump in my throat.

“Babe, I really enjoy spending time with you, but I want to make sure we are on the same page.” Rodney had a serious expression on his face as he looked into my eyes. We were seated at my glass kitchen table. He had just finished cooking us breakfast after a long night of passionate lovemaking.

“What’s up, baby?” I put a piece of turkey bacon in my month. I was curious about what he was going to tell me.

“You my boo,” he said, not really answering my questions.

“I know I’m your boo; we’ve been together for two years,” I reminded him.

“We have been friends for two years, not together” he replied, looking down at his plate. He knew he was wrong; he couldn’t even look me in my eyes.

I gave him a scorching look. “You have to be kidding me. All the time we’ve shared together, and all the sex we done had, and now you telling me that I was nothing but your sex partner?” My words were sharp.

“I enjoyed the time we spent together, but I’m not ready to be the man you need. Give me some time so I can work on myself. You deserve the best,” he placed his hand on top of mine.

I snatched my hand away because I didn’t want him to dare touch me. “You should have told me that before we had sex. You should have told me that before I introduced you to my family. I brought you around my daughter like we were a happy family.” It felt as if I was going to pass out. I stopped to catch my breath and then continued. “And all this time I meant nothing to you. I didn’t mean enough to you to be your woman,” I spat. My heart hammered in my chest. I wanted to get up and wrap my two hands around his neck and strangle him to death.

“Mel, I love you,” he pleaded.

A single tear fell from my eye. “Dismiss yourself with that bull!” I shot daggers at him. “How could you hurt me like this? Wait a minute, is there someone else? Is that why you’re saying this now? You want to see someone else?” Sweat trickled down my face, I was heated with anger. “No, don’t answer that ’cause most of the time that’s what it means when a man comes out and says we are ‘just friends.’” My vein throbbed at my temple. I stood up from of my chair and got right in his face. “Get out of my house before I do something I regret!”

That was two years ago, and there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of Rodney. He hurt me deep down in my soul. I wondered why he didn’t want me to carry the title of being his woman. He was the man I wanted to marry. I wasn’t going to be his side chick. But he had never told me there was another chick. Maybe he did just want to get himself together to be the man I needed. But to me, he was perfect the way he was.

“Melody,” Sasha yelled my name from across the club, snapping me from my thoughts.

“Hey, boo,” I sang to her when she walked over to me. I was sipping on a strawberry margarita on the rocks and, honey, I was feeling myself. I knew I was looking cute wearing a black, form-fitting dress that hugged all of my curves just right. I showed just enough cleavage to keep it sexy and classy. I didn’t waste my money on all those high-priced designer clothes. I got my dress from Dots, my favorite place to shop for women’s accessories, clothing, and shoes. I knew I was looking hot.

“Hey, Mel, you lookin’ cute. I know who you must be looking for wearing that dress. That’s right, girl, do yo’ thang. ’Cause when he sees you, he’s gonna want to tap that tonight. You haven’t been out in a while, and this is the way you’re supposed to look when you make a comeback.” Sasha smiled, and then put her hand up to give me a high five. She continued, “I’m surprised he ain’t all up in yo’ grill right now.” She turned her head and looked around to see if she could see Rodney.

“Who y’all looking for?” Asia asked when she walked in the club and gave me a one-armed hug.

“Girl, nobody important. What’s up?” I tried to change the subject from Rodney because when his name was spoken, my insides started to tingle. I took another sip from my straw as I eyed Asia down. She was wearing a tight, low cut, black shirt that showed all her belly rolls and some dark jeans with a pair of red, open toe stilettoes.

“What’s up is you need to get that bartender’s attention so I can order a drink,” Asia demanded. I got Asia’s Grey Goose with cranberry, and she sat in the middle of Sasha and me. We sipped on our drinks and bobbed our heads to the music that thumped loudly through the speakers. We all flirted with the fellas and allowed them to buy us more drinks, even Sasha with her married behind.

Asia, Sasha, and I were cousins, and we had been inseparable ever since our childhood years. We were around the same age, and we got along great. Don’t get me wrong, we got into it sometimes, and we didn’t agree on hardly anything, but we were family, and that’s what made our bond strong.

Asia was our cousin through marriage. My uncle Charles married Asia’s mom Rosa when we were kids. Asia’s mom would spoil Asia and my uncle when we were young. Whatever they wanted, Aunt Rosa would bend over backward for them. My uncle kept a job, but Aunt Rosa would still take care of him by giving him all the money that she earned. I think that rubbed off on Asia because when we became adults, she began to have issues with allowing men to use her for her money. She had developed low self-esteem dealing with the men in her life, so much so that she had three children, and they all had different daddies.

Sasha was my mother’s sister’s daughter. Like Asia, Sasha had her issues too. First of all, Sasha and Asia were always getting into it, and I had no clue why. Sasha was in a miserable marriage, and she wouldn’t tell her husband, Jonathan, that she had been unhappy ever since her miscarriage. Her husband wanted to have children, but she didn’t. I guess Asia’s three demon seeds scared her straight. Those were my li’l cousins, but those heathens were off the chain. It seemed as if Asia was a gremlin; every time she got close to water, she popped out another baby.

Whenever Sasha was stressed out about what was going on in her home, she would work her stress out on the slot machines at the casino. Then she would be calling me saying that she was more stressed out because she blew her money. But lately, she had stopped going to the casino and started going to the clubs to drink hard liquor. I loved my cousins, but they had their issues, and I’m sure my issues weren’t as bad as theirs. All I needed to do was get Rodney to understand that I was the only woman that he needed in his life.

As I sat at the bar, I hoped I wouldn’t bump into Rodney because if I saw him, I knew I might’ve become weak to his sexual desire. I thought about him daily, and I yearned for his touch. It’s been two years since I had been sexually involved with any man, and I wanted to save myself for that man that I wanted to marry. I was trying to stay strong because I wasn’t going to keep letting him play with my emotions. But I just couldn’t keep him off of my mind.

How did I get here? I remember when I met Rodney at this very club, a few years ago. He’d told me that he had a girlfriend, but his relationship was on the rocks. I kept it cool because I didn’t mess with other women’s men. My cousin Sasha introduced me to him because he told her he had been peeping me out when I came to the club, and he wanted to meet me.

Rodney was undeniably a catch. He was tall and wore a size fourteen shoe. His hair was cut in a tight fade that complemented his smooth, caramel skin and tapered goatee. His swag was like no other, and the brotha was confident with it. You know what they say about tall men with big feet. And the saying was so true when it came to Rodney.

I took his number, and we talked on the phone, getting to know each other very well. We always saw each other at Club Headliners, and every time I bumped into him, he would be in my grill all night like he didn’t have a woman at home. We would talk, dance, and he would buy me and my girls drinks for the whole night. That went on for a few months.

Then he came to me and told me that he and his girl broke up. He said that they just wanted to go their separate ways. I told him I was sorry to hear that, but that was a lie. Because all the time we spent together at the club and all the conversations we had on the phone, I was ready to be his woman. But I wasn’t going to let him in that easy. He was going to have to work for this.

He had just gotten out of a relationship, and I wasn’t going to be his jump-off chick. I didn’t work that way. If we weren’t in a relationship, we were not going to be having sex. I told him that it was cool for us to go on dates since he was a single man. We went to the movies and dinner every other night. We were so inseparable at the club that people thought that we were a couple. That went on for a whole year. I enjoyed the attention that he gave me because I knew the ladies wanted him, but I was the one with him. He was well known around town, so he would speak to chicks when we were out, but they definitely knew that he was into me. I finally had sex with him, and it was amazing. I thought that was when we made our relationship official. I introduced him to my daughter, and she loved him too.

“Mel, look over there. Yo’ boo just walked in the club,” Sasha said, snapping me from my past and into the present.

I glanced over toward the entrance, and there he stood, all six feet three inches of fineness. When he smiled, I melted like hot butter. He looked good, even if he had on a white tee and sweatpants. I hurriedly turned my head back the other way. I didn’t want him to see me looking at him. I wanted him to come over to me and flirt with me like he always did. I wanted to play hard to get.

I was on my fourth margarita, and I took it to the head. I could feel my insides tingle. Tonight it wouldn’t be too hard for him to get me. I wanted him so badly I made myself sick thinking about how he made me feel behind closed doors. I loved him, and I wished that he would see that I was all he needed. I wanted him to want me like I wanted him, and not just sexually. But I was human, and I needed to get laid. I was going to make him love me. Just looking at him walk through the doors of the club sent butterflies to my stomach as waves of euphoria filled my body.

Lord, please give me strength to keep my legs closed to Rodney Hampton.

I’ve had my share of men in my life. I loved me some black men. My mom once told me, once you go black, you never go back. I kind of followed in her footsteps. My oldest son’s father is white, but my last two children’s fathers are black. My mother was exactly right, because I would take a black man, either light chocolate or dark chocolate, it didn’t matter to me; they were all packing. The blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice is what I learned from Tupac, one of the illest black rappers out here.

When Sasha, Melody, and I kicked it at the clubs, people were surprised when I told them we were cousins because Melody and Sasha are black, and I’m a blond-haired, blue-eyed white chick, with no ass at all. My mother married into their family, and they treated me like I was blood.

One thing I always envied growing up was that Melody and Sasha had nice plump behinds; not too big but just right. Every boy in our high school would tell them how nice their figures were. But the boys seemed to always skip past me and act like I wasn’t even there, with my belly protruding over my jeans and my jeans sagging over my flat behind. I’d always been on the chubby side ever since I was a baby. I get it from my mother. She was big boned, and she loved to cook.

I was so happy when I saw a commercial advertisement on TV about butt pads and the waist trainers. I asked my mother for her credit card and called the number on the screen and ordered the garments. I couldn’t wait for the package to be delivered to my doorstep. My body was banging just like Melody and Sasha’s. With my belly rolls tuck. . .