So You Call Yourself a Man

Book 2: Church Series

by Carl Weber

Genres: African American Romance

Synopsis

New York Times best-selling author Carl Weber amps up the sexiness and pulse-quickening drama in this riveting novel. All’s good for James and Cathy—until a woman shows up with James’ love child. Undeniably suave Brent thinks he’s found happiness with a born-again churchgoer, until another leads him into temptation. And longtime friend Sonny is going to need help from James and Brent if he’s to have any hope of salvaging his marriage.

“A raucous ‘desperate husbands’ story line—co-starring crazy baby mamas, shady churchgoers and various deranged personalities—ups the conflict quotient significantly.” —Publishers Weekly

Release date: August 1, 2010

Publisher: Kensington Books

Print pages: 384

Sample

First off, I have to thank my fans for their support of The Preacher’s Son. Without them, making the New York Times bestseller list would not have been possible. I guess they love drama even more than I thought, because I can’t begin to tell you how humbled I was to walk into stores around the country and have hundreds of people waiting to listen to me read excerpts or to get their books autographed. It is you the fans that keep me writing, and I will continue to do my best and not disappoint you. So keep the letters and e-mails coming.

 

Next, I’d like to thank my staff and partners at Urban Entertainment for putting up with me during the long hard road to finishing So You Call Yourself a Man: Roy Glenn, Arvita Glenn, Harold Gilliam, Smiley Guirand, Dwight Keys, Maria Delongoria, Richard Holland, Robilyn Heath, Alisha Yvonne, Kevin Dwyer and Dwayne Dumpson. Guys, I hope you can see where I’m going with this thing of ours because the sky is the limit.

 

Many thanks to Valerie Skinner, Linda Williams, Alisha Yvonne, Anita from Sag Harbor (my old babysitter), and Britney from Sag Harbor (my kids’ babysitter); your input on So You Call Yourself a Man was instrumental in helping me put out the best book I could.

 

How could I forget my two good friends Karen Thomas, my editor and Marie Brown, my agent? You two have been around since my infancy in this industry and have taught me more about publishing than any twenty people combined. I will always be in your debt and hope that you will always be there to smack me back down to size if my head gets too big. Thanks for all that you’ve done and will do.

 

Last but not least, I’d like to thank my wife, Martha. Without her help I would never have finished So You Call Yourself a Man on time. She edited, retyped, criticized, and even wrote some of this book when I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. Through good times and bad you’ve always been there for me. Thanks so much.

 

E-mail me at: [email protected] Visit my web site at: Carlweber.net

Call me kinky, but there is nothing in the world that turns me on more than hearing a woman scream pleasurable obscenities as I make love to her. And that’s exactly what my lovely wife, Cathy, was doing as I held onto her hips and plunged into her from behind. Our two boys, James Jr. and Michael, were with my mother for the weekend, and Cathy and I were taking advantage of their absence by spending some quality time together. We’d gone out to dinner with my buddy Brent and his fiancée, Alison, taken in a movie, then came home and finished off a bottle of wine before making love on the living room sofa. We were now on our second round in our bedroom, going at it like two lusty college students in heat.

“I love you, James,” my wife moaned affectionately, clutching the sheets as one climax took over for another.

“I love you too,” I growled back as my body stiffened and my own pleasure erupted.

Totally spent, Cathy lay flat on her stomach while I gently collapsed onto her back, gasping for air. After a brief recovery, I slid my sweat-soaked body off hers. She snuggled up next to me and I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her in close, her back to my front. I was so exhausted, I wanted to just close my eyes and let the sedative of sex take me to dreamland. But I couldn’t do that because it was against the rules—rules we’d created almost two years ago to keep our marriage together. Rules that had made this the happiest two years of my life. Somehow, I was going to have to force myself to stay awake at least ten more minutes and talk to her before allowing myself the enjoyment of sleep.

I kissed her neck, whispering in her ear, “You okay? Do you want me to go down on you or anything?”

“No, baby. I’m fine just like this. All I want you to do is hold me.” I did as I was told and she snuggled her backside against me. A few seconds later, I could hear her snoring lightly.

I loved Cathy more than anything in the world. Sure, we had our problems over the years like most couples. Hell, I even thought we were gonna divorce a few years ago, but we worked it out and things had never been better as far as I was concerned. I couldn’t see myself with any other woman. I’d loved her since the day we met in our junior year at Virginia State University. She was my soul mate, and I’d do anything and everything to keep her and my boys safe and out of harm’s way. I kissed her neck again, then dozed off to sleep.

I couldn’t have been asleep more than five or ten minutes before my cell phone rang. Instinctively, I reached over and picked it up from my night table, glancing at the caller ID before hitting the talk button. The screen read UNAVAILABLE, and my eyes wandered to the clock radio on my night table. One twenty-one a.m. Who the hell is calling me at this time of night? Then it hit me. There was only one person who would call me at this time from an unavailable number—my best friend, Sonny Harrison. Sonny always used calling cards, so his home number never showed up on my caller ID. His wife and I didn’t get along too tough, so he probably waited until she was asleep before picking up the phone to call. He was flying in from Seattle sometime tomorrow to look for a job, and hopefully he was going to stay long enough to attend Brent’s wedding. Brent, the third friend in our tight circle, was getting married in two weeks, and he and I were supposed to pick Sonny up at the airport. Sonny was probably calling to let me know what time his flight would arrive.

“Hello?”

“James?” It wasn’t Sonny. It was a woman, a familiar voice, but in my tired state, I just couldn’t make out the voice. “James?” the woman asked again.

“Yeah, who is this?”

“Michelle.”

The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and every muscle in my body tightened. I hadn’t heard Michelle’s voice in years. Why the hell was she calling me, especially at this time of night? I could feel Cathy start to stir next to me, and fear ran through my body. I immediately cupped the phone and rolled over on my right side, away from my wife.

I’d met Michelle a few years back, during the time Cathy and I were having our marital problems and contemplating divorce. Michelle was living with her mother. Their house was a daily stop on my old UPS route. Her mother was addicted to the Home Shopping Network, and was constantly ordering nonsense she didn’t need. Looking back at things, I wished I had never met her, but in all honesty, she filled a void in my life at a very unhappy time. She was exactly what I needed to realize that what I had at home was worth fighting for.

Funny thing is, in the beginning, I never even thought about messing with Michelle. She was just the woman who answered the door when I dropped off her mother’s packages. I mean, she was nice enough and had a decent body, but she wasn’t gonna win any beauty contests with those rollers and that sweatsuit she wore when she answered the door every morning. As time went on, however, her appearance started to change. At first it was subtle; the scarf and rollers she usually wore to the door had disappeared, and her hair was now combed in various styles. Then one morning she surprised me by answering the door wearing makeup. And if that wasn’t enough, I knew something was definitely up when she stopped wearing the beat-up old gray sweatsuit and started to answer the door wearing a negligee with a sheer robe. Being a flirtatious guy, I gave her a few compliments on her improved appearance. Yeah, I know I was a married man headed down the road to disaster, but boys will be boys, and I was just seeking some much-needed attention that I wasn’t getting at home.

I really didn’t think anything would start between me and Michelle. That changed, though, when she was more than a little receptive to my flirtation and started giving it back even more aggressively. We played this little back-and-forth game over the next couple of weeks. I don’t have to tell you what happened after that. Let’s just say it happened every day for six months, even when I didn’t have any packages to deliver to her house. Now that I think back on it, I don’t think I’d ever been so happy to go to work in my entire life.

“Michelle, why are you calling me at this time of night?” I was whispering but my voice was cold and serious.

“Well, if you had answered when I called you earlier, we wouldn’t be going through this now. I been blowing up your phone since five o’clock this afternoon, and it just keeps sending me to your voice mail. By the way, your box is full. Haven’t you checked your messages?”

“No, I haven’t. I’ve been busy, spending time with my wife.” I glanced at Cathy to see if I was talking too loud. She seemed to still be asleep.

“You don’t have to get nasty with me, James. I know you’re married, remember? You act like she’s right next to you or something.”

“Ahhh, yeah, where else would she be at this time of night?” I couldn’t resist the sarcasm. “Now look, it’s late. And I don’t do booty calls anymore. So please don’t call me again, okay?”

“Don’t you hang up this phone, James Robinson!” she demanded. “We need to talk now. And I really don’t care if your wife is there or not. This is important.”

I didn’t like her attitude. I was thinking about hanging up. The only thing that stopped me was the fact that Michelle was stubborn and would probably call back. One call at 1:30 in the morning Cathy might ignore or sleep through, but a second call would have her radar up like she was NASA waiting for the space shuttle to land. “Look, I don’t have time for this.”

“Well, make time, dammit. Unless you want me to show up at your doorstep with your son.”

If she didn’t have my attention before, she sure as hell had it now. I swear I could feel my heart stop. “Hold on a sec.” I cupped my hand over the phone then swung my feet off the bed to sit up. Cathy turned toward me.

“Baby, who’s that on the phone?” She was still half-asleep.

I turned toward her and forced a smile. “Ah, it’s just Sonny. I’ve gotta write down his flight information. I’ll be right back.”

“Aw’ight. Tell ’im I said hi.” She rolled back over, pulling the covers around her neck. I left the room, heading downstairs as quickly as possible. When I reached the family room, I turned on the television for background noise and brought the phone to my ear.

“What the hell is this about, Michelle? You told me the baby wasn’t mine.” Now that I was not within earshot of Cathy, I had a real attitude.

There was a hesitation on the line.

“I know that, James, but I was wrong.” There was a strange tone to her voice, not the attitude I expected. It was more like exhaustion. If I didn’t know better, I might have thought she didn’t want to be having this conversation with me. But I did know better, and I was sure Michelle was up to something.

“What do you mean you was wrong? Why you trying to play me, Michelle? You know that baby ain’t mine. You told me yourself, he looks just like your boyfriend. He don’t look nothin’ like me.”

“Ain’t nobody trying to play you, James. And his looks ain’t got nothin’ to do with who his daddy is. But trust me, he does look like you, just like you.” The attitude had crept back into her voice. “I just want you to take care of your responsibility. I can’t do this by myself anymore.”

“Responsibility! What responsibility? That baby ain’t mine. I rode past you and his daddy pushing a stroller down the street a few months ago. You looked like one big, happy family. Why you trying to put this on me now? I work for UPS. I don’t own it. I ain’t got no money. Damn.”

“You think I want this? I don’t want this. But I wouldn’t even be talking to you if Trent hadn’t failed a paternity test. The baby’s not his, James. DNA tests don’t lie.”

There was silence on my end. I wasn’t sure what to say. I wanted to ask, “Well, whose baby is it?” but common sense told me that wasn’t a good idea, especially since she had my cell number, my home number, and my address. If she wanted to, she could make my life a living hell.

As if she was reading my mind she said, “You’re the only other one I was sleeping with, James, so don’t come out your face with any stupidness.”

God, I wish I had never met her.

“What do you want from me, Michelle?”

“We need to talk face-to-face. All I want you to do is take care of your son. I don’t want anything else. But I can’t do this by myself.”

“Aw’ight, but I can’t do it tomorrow. It’ll have to be Monday.”

“Okay, I can wait ’til Monday. But don’t let me come looking for you, James, ’cause I ain’t calling your cell phone looking for you anymore. I’m calling your house.” Why I called that girl from my home number when we were sleeping together I’ll never know. I felt like kicking myself for being so damn stupid.

“Don’t worry. I’ll call you.” I clicked off the phone then walked up the stairs as if I was in a trance. How the hell was I gonna tell Cathy if I did really have another son?

I stepped off the escalator and changed the time on my watch before heading toward the United Airlines baggage claim carousel. It was 9:00 a.m. back in Seattle, where my wife Jessica was probably just finishing up breakfast for the kids. I was about to pull out my cell and give her a call, but before I could get it out of my jacket, I was knocked to the ground by two middle-aged white guys in suits. They didn’t even look back to see if I was all right. All I heard from one of them was, “Sorry,” as he raced past me. Well, there was no question I wasn’t in Seattle anymore, that was for sure. I was back in my hometown of New York City, where rudeness rules, everything is more expensive, and life just seems to move at a quicker pace. God, do I love this city.

I brushed myself off and continued toward the baggage claim. I thought about calling Jessica again but decided against it when I saw that she’d left three text messages on my phone. I’d only been in New York a few minutes, and it was probably better if I let her and the kids have a chance to miss me for a while. Besides, she’d call back. That I was sure of. Jessica couldn’t go more than a few hours without talking to me.

A half-hour later, I was standing on the sidewalk outside the baggage claim area, smoking a cigarette. As I predicted, Jessica had called back not once but twice, and now that we’d hung up, I was doing some window-shopping. New York might be fast, but it had some of the best window-shopping in the world. “Window-shopping” was a term I came up with after Jessica and I got married and she would catch me looking at another woman’s ass. Let’s get something straight, though. I never cheated on my wife. Hell, I was too damn busy trying to keep her happy so she wouldn’t cheat on me. You see, I’m an ass man. I can’t help looking when a nice booty walks by me, but I don’t touch. When Jessica caught me checking out someone’s rear, I told her, “Don’t worry, baby. I’m just window-shopping. A brother’s got no intentions to buy generic when he’s got brand-name at home.” Then I’d slap her playfully on what quite honestly might be the most beautiful butt I’d ever seen. She never gave me any argument about that, probably because she knew how much I loved her and how committed I was to her and our family. I was about as devoted a family man as you can get. That was the main reason I was back in New York looking for a job. I needed to take care of my family properly.

“Sonnyyyyyyyyyy!”

I looked up and saw the resident pretty boy, one of my best friends, Brent Williams, headed my way through the crowd. After all these years, he was still probably the most handsome brother I’d ever met, and it had been that way since we were in grade school. When Brent was around, it was the women who did the window-shopping, and that’s what most of them standing outside the baggage claim area were doing as he walked by. I couldn’t help but laugh as I watched all the turned heads and not-so-subtle double takes. That Brent drove women crazy.

A good six feet three inches tall, Brent had chiseled bronze features with a low military cut and a body that women lusted after. Even under his suit jacket, it was obvious to anyone within eyesight that he was ripped. The thing I liked about Brent was that unlike most pretty boys, he didn’t let his good looks go to his head. Oh, he’d had his share of women over the years—lots of women—but he never made a big deal about his looks or the attention women gave him. To be honest, he seemed to resent it at times. I guess that’s why he had so much trouble keeping a steady relationship. He wanted someone who was attracted to the man inside, someone who shared his interests and wasn’t just looking for an arm ornament she could show off to her girlfriends. I know it almost sounds like what a woman looks for in a man, but you’d be surprised how hard a good woman is to find, and Brent had been searching for his Mrs. Right for quite a while. That’s why James and I were so happy when he met Alison. She’s a little big for my taste, but she’s the perfect woman for Brent, especially with her being a Sunday school teacher and him recently being saved and wanting to go into the clergy.

“Sonny! Man, it’s good to see you.” Brent wrapped his arms around me and gave me a brotherly hug. “I missed you, man. Dag-gone, I wish you’d move back to New York.”

I smiled as I hugged him back. “I missed you too, bro. And believe it or not, I might be moving back to New York sooner than you think if James can get me a job as a driver working at UPS.”

Brent straightened his back, cynicism written across his face. I was too embarrassed to tell him I’d been out of work the past three months and that James was my only hope for employment. “And Jessica is cool with that? She’s actually going to let you be a driver?”

I let out an aggravated sigh. Brent and James didn’t like my wife because they thought she was too high-maintenance and controlling. They were under the impression that Jessica had me henpecked. They believed she moved me to Seattle three years ago so that I would be away from their influence.

I looked him straight in the eyes. “It was her idea. She knows how much I miss you guys and New York. Contrary to popular belief, she wants me to be happy, Brent.”

“I hear you, man. God does say, let those without sin cast the first stone.” Brent released me and picked up one of my bags. “Maybe I misjudged her, Sonny.”

“There ain’t no maybe to it, bro. You and James been misjudging my wife since day one. She’s a good woman, Brent, the best, and I don’t know what I’d do without her. I’ve only been away from her half a day and I already feel lost. I just wish you guys could understand that.”

“I hear you, man, and I’m glad you’re happy.” His voice was less enthusiastic than his words.

“Excuse me.” I glanced toward the voice to see this fine, brown-skinned flight attendant staring directly into Brent’s face like he was a rock star or something, but it wasn’t just her face I was looking at, ’cause the girl had an ass like Jennifer Lopez. Brent turned his head to acknowledge her presence, but his eyes never acknowledged her beauty or her phenomenal ass.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

She smiled seductively, her eyes locked on his. “Maybe we can help each other. My name’s Yvonne. I’m from Atlanta, but my crew is on an eighteen-hour layover. I’m staying over at the airport Ramada and wanted to know if you’d like to join me for a drink.” She removed a small business card from her bag, and without even waiting for Brent’s answer, she offered it to him. He accepted it with his free hand. “Here’s my card. My cell phone number is on the back. You can call me anytime.” She winked, this time waiting for his answer.

The way she was looking at him screamed, I’m gonna rock your world, and made me wanna say, “Damn, can he bring a friend? All I wanna do is watch.”

Brent glanced at the card then at me. “Yvonne, is it?”

“Yes.” She nodded, her smile growing wide, like a fisherman who’d just caught the big one. Only this fish was the one that got away, because Brent pushed the card back in her hand.

“What are you doing?” Her smile had disappeared.

“I’m flattered. Believe me, I’m flattered.” He answered. “But I’m engaged, and I’m sure my fiancée wouldn’t be too happy with me taking you out for a drink or calling you, no mater what time it is.” He wasn’t being rude, but there was a definite seriousness to his voice.

Yvonne obviously didn’t want to accept defeat. “Well, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, will it?” She took a step closer and tried to push the card back into his hand. “And I sure as hell ain’t gonna tell her, so you ain’t got nothin’ to worry about.”

“I didn’t have anything to worry about in the first place because I’m not meeting you,” Brent told her with finality. He turned to me. “You ready to go, Sonny?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Good, ’cause James is waiting in the car, and for some reason he’s got a stick up his butt.” He reached down and picked up my other bag. “Oh, and Ms. Yvonne, you have a blessed day, and remember, keep Jesus first.”

I looked at the woman, who looked like she was picking her ego up off the ground. “Don’t feel bad. He does that to all the pretty girls.”

As we walked away, I glanced at Brent. He seemed unfazed by what had just transpired. Damn, now that’s what I call devoted. And they call me whipped. I didn’t know what Alison had between her legs, but that shit must have been the bomb.

After eating twenty-four-ounce steaks, drinking German beer, and smoking twenty-dollar imported cigars with Sonny and James as we reminisced about the good old days, I finally arrived back home about 8:00 that evening. First thing I did when I hit the door was grab my Bible from the coffee table and get down on my knees to pray. My mind had been consumed with lustful thoughts ever since we left the airport. It didn’t help when, after his third beer, James finally lightened up from the funk he was in and started talking about the bachelor party he was planning on throwing me. Even down on my knees about to pray, I still couldn’t shake the thought of all that beautiful brown flesh they were going to parade in front of me. I loved those guys, but they had a way of bringing out the devil in me.

“Dear Lord,” I said, lowering my head in prayer. “Please forgive me my lustful, heathenous thoughts that have consumed me. Father, please help me to be a better Christian who is not obsessed with the flesh but with Your glory….”

I prayed for almost thirty minutes, finishing up my prayer with a hearty, “Amen.” It was echoed by a female voice behind me.

“Alison,” I stammered in surprise. I looked up at my bride-to-be, who was dressed in a flowered church dress and matching hat. She must have let herself in with the key I’d given her. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to know that we need to talk.”

She sat do. . .