Suspicions

by Sasha Campbell

Genres: General Fiction

Synopsis

In Suspicions, author Sasha Campbell pens a provocative tale about the trouble that can arise when a person ignores the past for too long. Because Noelle Gordon owns the hottest beauty salon in the area, she hears a lot about her clients’ private lives. But when a baby is abandoned on her doorstep, Noelle finds that she is the one at the center of all the drama.

“ … sharp and thoughtfully written.”—Library Journal

Release date: May 6, 2014

Publisher: Kensington Books

Print pages: 320

Sample

“Guuuurrrrrrrl, I met this dude from Jamaica last weekend. Trust and believe me when I tell you, he was a straight-up Mandingo!”

“Peaches, sit still before I burn your ear!” Damn! How was I supposed to style her hair if she kept moving? Besides, I don’t know what made her think I wanted to listen to her talking about getting some from a dude she barely knew.

“Oops, my bad!” Peaches chuckled. “It’s just not often that I find a man with some good dick.”

“Ooh! I know that’s right,” cackled some toothpick with a jacked-up weave, sitting in the chair beside her. “I haven’t had a man with anything worth talking about in a long time. They either can’t get it up or when they do, it ain’t worth my time.”

While everyone on the salon floor started talking about men’s private parts, I simply pursed my lips and kept on flatironing Peaches’s hair. I don’t know why my clients always think I want to hear about their sex lives.

“Shhhh-shhhh! I don’t know if y’all heard this or not, but . . . Tiffany don’t know nothing about getting laid.”

I grabbed a comb and pointed it at Debra, ready to cuss her behind every which way, but decided not to waste my breath. She’s the newest stylist at Situations, and unfortunately my booth happened to be right next to hers, which meant she had eavesdropped on one too many of my conversations. In fact, it was a bad habit I was determined to break. “Debra, nobody asked you to be spreading my personal business,” I mumbled. What she needed to be worried about was that no-good baby daddy of hers.

Debra gave an innocent look, then had the nerve to wave her hand like she was dismissing me. “I don’t know why you getting mad. You should be proud to let everyone know you’re not getting none.”

“Not getting none?” Peaches’s head snapped in my direction, her bubble eyes were big as saucers. “What’s up with that?”

Now all eyes were on me. Damn, why she all up in my business? “I’m just not out there trying to give it up to everybody.” I wasn’t yelling, but I had definitely raised my voice.

Debra started laughing. “Everybody? Hell, you haven’t given it to anybody.”

I gave her a nasty look. With God as my witness, before long, she and I were going to have it out. “Some of us were raised to hold on to our virginity for the right man while others weren’t.” I don’t know why I was even trying to explain to a bunch of chicks who wouldn’t understand that some of us didn’t believe in giving it up to every Tom, Dick, and Jerry they come across.

“Okay . . . lemme get this straight. You saying you’re a virgin?” Peaches asked for clarification and swung her seat all the way around so she could look at me dead in my mouth. Thanks to Debra, they were all trying to get in my business.

“Did I stutter? I’m saving myself for the right man,” I replied with a mean glare. “Now turn around.” I was done discussing my personal life. Unfortunately, Peaches wasn’t finished yet.

“Hold up, Tif. What about that cutie pie who picked you up the last time I was here?”

I glanced around to see if anyone else was listening. The last thing I wanted was one of these trifling females in the salon to try and push up on my man. “What about him?” I said with attitude.

“I know you gotta be getting some of that.” She said like she’d caught me in a lie. “Sheee-it, I would.”

“Puhleeze,” Debra cackled. “Tiffany ain’t gave him shit!”

“You lying?” Peaches’s mouth was hanging open, then all of a sudden she and Debra looked at each other and burst out laughing. “Dayuumn, Tiffany. I ain’t mad atcha!” I was seconds away from telling Peaches to get the hell out my chair because I didn’t give a damn if she believed me or not, but she was one of my best clients and times were hard.

The skinny chick sitting in Debra’s chair threw her hands up in surrender. “Hell naw! I heard it all.”

The conversation wasn’t anything new to me. My girls had always thought it strange that I was 27 and still a virgin. All of them couldn’t wait to fall in love and have sex, while I had the willpower they didn’t have to say no. I won’t say it had always been easy, but it was either wait or deal with Ruby Dee. My mother was one woman you didn’t want to mess with. If she said keep your legs closed, then you better do it. Her fist was the only chastity belt I had ever needed.

I glanced around the floor, then took a deep breath before I said, “Why is it if a woman says she’s a virgin, she has to be lying?”

“Damn, Tiffany, it’s not like it’s a bad thing. It’s just, well . . . almost unheard of,” Debra said on the defense.

When Peaches finally stopped laughing, she said, “Also, there is this thing called being horny. Hell, I lost my virginity when I was fourteen.”

And that’s why she has four kids. I reached for a brush. “So what? Everybody ain’t like you. My mother taught me that what I have is precious and I needed to make a man earn the privilege after he makes me his wife.” I probably sounded like I thought I was all that, but so what. Women needed to have more respect for themselves.

Debra sucked her buck teeth like a horse. “I know that’s right, girl! Make those niggas beg for it.” That wasn’t at all what I meant, but I doubt Debra would know the difference.

That anorexic-looking chick with the jacked-up weave had the nerve to give her two cents. “You a better woman than me, because there ain’t no way in hell I would marry a man before I knew what he was working with. I think about all those women back in the day who couldn’t have sex until after they got married only to find out that not only couldn’t her husband fuck, but his dick wasn’t even circumcised.”

“Ugh!” Peaches was laughing so hard, she practically fell from my chair. “I couldn’t even imagine. Call me a ho if you wanna, but to me it’s just like sampling a piece of meat in the deli. I need to know what I’m getting before I spend my money!” She flinched. “Ouch!”

“That’s what you get for moving. I told you to sit still,” I replied and tried to keep a straight face. That’s what she gets for being all up in my business.

Now everybody wanted to get in the conversation. They were now shouting back and forth across the room with the chicks sitting in the waiting area. I half listened as I worked on my client’s head. I’ve heard this topic time and time before, and I’ll admit there have been times when I wondered what it would be like being married to Kimbel, and what if he doesn’t satisfy me. But on the other hand, as my best friend told me, you can’t miss what you’ve never had.

Ms. Conrad lifted the hooded dryer from her head. I should have known her nosy behind was listening. “I’ma tell y’all, I was married to my husband for twenty years before he decided he wanted his freedom. Charles was the only man I had ever been with, so I had no idea what I was missing. But leaving me was the best thing he could have ever done for me. I now got a man in my life who makes my toes curl.”

“Shit, I know that’s right. This dude I was with last night had my toes curled and me calling out his name!” screamed some tall chick sitting in the lobby.

Ms. Conrad glared at her. “That’s the problem with all you young folks. You’re too busy trying to get yours. Relationships are supposed to be about a lot more than just sex.”

Debra waved a hot comb in the air as she spoke. “True, but sex is important. If the sex is bad, then so is the relationship.” She shook her head. “Tiffany, I don’t see how you can do.”

Toothpick chick gave me a curious grin. “So is your fiancé a virgin, too?”

Damn, they’re nosy. “Nope, but he knows I am and he respects that.” I wasn’t about to tell them Kimbel spent half his time trying to convince me to give it up. Part of me felt the only reason he proposed so soon was because he knew that marrying me was the only way he was going to get some. But Kimbel was rich and he could have any woman he wanted, yet he picked me, a little girl from the projects who grew up in a single-parent home. I truly believed he wouldn’t have asked me to be his wife if he didn’t love me.

“How long y’all been together?” Toothpick asked.

“Six months. He proposed on Valentine’s Day.” I held out my hand so she could see the three-carat solitaire surrounded by emeralds that I wore proudly on my finger.

She barely looked before she frowned. “And you think your man’s been faithful all this time?” As soon as I nodded, she started laughing. “Honey, puhleeze! Just ’cause you’re not fucking doesn’t mean he ain’t. He’s a man, and a man’s got needs that someone else is more than willing to fulfill.”

I hated bitches like her. I shook my head. “I trust my man.”

“I trust mine, too . . . as far as I can see him. Because the second you turn your back, there’s some hoochie trying to ride his dick. My baby is fine; therefore, I keep his ass on a short leash.”

Debra started yanking the weave out her head. “That’s because Ricky ain’t no good. Ursula, shut up.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever, you know what I’m saying is true.”

Ms. Conrad came to my defense. “All of you need to quit. There is nothing wrong with this young lady saving herself for the right man.”

Peaches turned on the chair again. “Yeah, but how do you know he’s the right man until you find out what he’s working with, and, better yet, if he can work it?”

“I know that right!” Toothpick high-fived Peaches and ignored the pissed off look on my face.

“Just because we don’t have sex doesn’t mean we don’t do other things.” I don’t know why I felt like I needed to prove something to these ghetto chicks up in here.

Peaches glanced over her shoulder and gave me a strange look. “Things like what? And I hope you’re not talking about oral sex. Because last I checked that was considered sex as well.”

“No, it isn’t,” Debra said, and tossed a sponge roller at her.

“Yes, it is. There was a news report on Dateline a while back about all these high-school kids giving each other head because it’s supposed to be cool. Kids think it’s okay to have oral sex.”

While they debated the issue, I tuned them out and thought about what they said. I would never admit it to any of them, but there were many times when I was tempted to give in to the moment and let Kimbel have exactly what he wanted, but every time I was that close to spreading my legs, I heard my mother’s nagging voice in my ear, saying, “Why buy the cow if the milk is free?” But I’m not going to lie. These heifers in the salon had me thinking. It had been six months since we started dating, which meant Kimbel hadn’t had any in half a year. I was confident he wasn’t getting any. Some might call me arrogant. Others might call me stupid, but I trusted my man. However, the last thing I wanted was for him to get tired of waiting, then go out and get him some from one of those trifling chicks in the streets. Now, don’t get it twisted. I wasn’t about to give up my virginity before saying, “I do.” Nevertheless, my mama ain’t raised no fool. I was just going to have to prove to my man that what I have would definitely be worth the wait.

“Oooooh! That’s it! Right there.”

Grinning, I gazed into Patricia’s eyes. “Boo, I aim to please,” I purred, making sure my voice sounded as smooth as melted butter. Reaching for the warm oil, I drizzled it along the length of her legs, then massaged every drop down to her cute little pinkie toe.

“Mmmm.” Her eyelids rolled shut and my lips curled upward. This was just too easy. All it took was me licking my lips like LL Cool J and rubbing on a woman’s feet and I had her juices flowing immediately. A brotha had mad skills, and right now I had Patricia exactly where I wanted her—on the verge of an orgasm.

I focused my attention on the peanut butter brown beauty. Massaging one foot and the other, then worked my hands up her calves. She groaned and I increased the pressure. I wanted my hands to feel better than any foreplay she’d ever experienced.

“Ooh, yeah, Chauncey, damn that feel ssssoooo good!” she moaned.

Grinning, my hands were just creeping up to her inner thighs when I heard this loud voice behind me.

“Damn, Chauncey! How much longer ’fore it’s my turn?”

Before I could answer, Patricia’s eye snapped open and her head rolled to the woman standing impatiently to her right with a hand planted at her thick waist. “Don’t be trying to rush him. My money is just as green as yours and the rest of these chicks up in here.” She pointed at the women sitting on the fake leather couch in the waiting room in front of a large flat-screen television. “You’re just gonna have to wait like the rest of them,” Patricia replied, then closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair.

I gave the angry female my signature smile. “Beverly, I’ll be with you in just a few. You know I like to make sure all my clients get their money’s worth.”

My comment pleased her because she smacked her full lips. “I just bet you do,” she mumbled under her breath yet loud enough for me to hear. Momentarily pleased, she turned and moved back to take a seat in the waiting room. I’m a man who loves a female with a big ass, so there was no way I could miss the sway of her succulent hips in low-ride jeans. I don’t know how long I was staring before I heard Patricia clear her throat. My head whipped around to meet her frown.

“Now . . . where were we?” I said with a wink.

She turned up her lips. “Before we were rudely interrupted you were giving me my massage.”

“Oh yeah.” I rubbed her legs and it wasn’t long before she was moaning on her chair again. A few minutes later, I rose. “I’ll be right back.”

“Mmmm,” Patricia purred. “Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

I moved over to a heating unit in the corner, removed a hot towel, then carried it over and placed it across her feet. “How’s that feel?”

“Ooh-weee! Chauncey, you’ve got skills!”

I gave her another shit-eating grin, then signaled for Beverly to come on the floor. I poured hot water in the bowl beside Patricia’s, then added some foot soak salts.

“Chauncey, I’ve been waiting all week for this.”

Beverly had a lazy eye, so I never knew which direction she was looking. It took everything I had to focus on the left eye when what I wanted to do was follow the direction of the other up toward the ceiling. “I’m glad to hear that. How you been? How’s your daughter liking the new daycare?”

Her face lit up. Apparently it blew her mind that I had remembered. “Fine. That’s all she talks about.”

“That’s whassup.” I learned that if you want to keep your clients loyal, you have to build a personal relationship with them. All you have to do is show them you care. I instructed for her to place her right foot in my hand. Beverly started laughing like she was trying on a glass slipper. I stared down at her feet and it took all I had not to do a double take. It didn’t matter how often she came in, I still couldn’t get used to her having some big-ass Fred Flintstone toes. The bottoms of her feet were so hard and crusty, one would have thought she had used them to peddle her car over to the salon. “Damn, boo, you got some pretty feet.”

She smiled just the way I wanted her to, then dropped her eyes and tried to act shy while I removed the polish from her toes. “You think so?”

“Most definitely, I bet your man likes to suck your toes,” I flirted. She grinned and licked her lips—the way females do when you tell them exactly what they wanted to hear.

Patricia’s nosy behind glanced over at Beverly’s feet and then at me with her brow raised and snorted. “Be for real.”

It took everything I had not to laugh. What can I say? I aim to please. And so far my fat pockets proved that I knew what I was doing. How’s the saying go? The proof is in the pudding. Before I had even graduated from beauty school I knew that I would make more money doing female pedicures than I ever would cutting a nigga’s head. “What would you like me to do today?”

The look Beverly gave told me that whatever was on her mind had nothing to do with her feet. Maybe it’s the freak in me, but I like a woman who made her intentions known. I allowed my eyes to run freely over her body. Beverly had a slamming shape. A wide ass and big breasts perfect enough to hold in the palm of my hands, but there was no way I could go out with her. Not with her wandering eye. I wouldn’t know if she was looking at me or the dude sitting at the next table.

Beverly slipped her feet in the water, then shrugged. “I don’t know . . . What do you think?”

I splashed water across her legs with my hand as I spoke. “How about bronze polish? I think it would bring out the gold tone of your skin.”

She batted her eyelashes. “You really think so?”

“Oh yeah. And how about a white flower on the big toe with a stud in the middle?”

“Whatever you think.” She giggled.

“I got you, boo.” Art décor was extra. The more I did, the more I got paid, and I was definitely making my money. In a few more months, I would be able to finally get a crib of my own, because living at the YMCA was cramping my style.

My boys thought I was a joke and said that only a fag would be interested in working at a beauty salon doing pedicures, but I was determined to prove them fools wrong. I’ve got a sister and I know there are things women don’t mind spending money on—clothes, hair, and nails. Half my boys were struggling to pay their child support while I had built a clientele, and never walked around with less than a couple hundred in my pocket. Who’s the man now?

I had only been working at Situations six weeks, and already the other nail technicians were complaining because I had all of their customers wanting me to sit between their legs and play with their toes. What can I say, except that I know what it takes to make the ladies happy.

The bell over the door chimed and I cursed under my breath when I recognized the chick coming through the door. Tameka. I instantly felt a migraine coming on. Ever since she found out where I worked, she’d been dropping in every couple of days, and when she did, she always did something to piss me off. She was a fatal fucking attraction. As soon as she stepped through the door and spotted me rubbing Beverly’s feet, I had this feeling she was about to start some shit. My shoulders sagged with relief when she moved into the small shop off to the side where the owner of the salon sold haircare products, hoop earrings, and all that other stuff females thought they needed. Hopefully, Tameka would pick up whatever she had come for and keep it moving.

We dated for a hot second. Tameka wanted a commitment and I didn’t. Hell, I wasn’t offering that to nobody. Commitment was just one thing I wasn’t having. Love either, for that matter. The last time I trusted a female and let my guard down, it cost me five years of my life.

I will never forget that day. I was at this club downtown located a couple of blocks from Harpo Studios. My boy and I were out celebrating my twenty-first birthday when these females stepped into the joint. Now, they all looked good, but it was the one in the middle who had my attention. She was chocolate just like a Hershey kiss and just the way I like them. Keke was chewing gum and had a walk that told you she knew she was the shit; and as good as she looked, she had every right. Those jeans were hugging everything the good Lord gave her plus some. She had her hair pulled up in a ponytail with the cutest bangs that made her look young enough that I should have known better. Instead, I found out the hard way.

“Chauncey!”

I heard one of the stylists call my name. I looked over at Tiffany, who tilted her head toward the door. As soon as I saw Tameka standing there, the question “What the hell you want now?” slipped out my mouth.

“Chauncey! Don’t play like you don’t know.”

“What the hell she doing up in here?” Debra yelled. She and Tiffany were stylists, and they’d seen Tameka clown the last time she had come into the salon when she tried to make it known to every female in the room she and I were screwing.

“Beverly, I’ll be right back.” I handed her a magazine, then moved toward the lobby. “Tameka, you need to get out of here.”

“I ain’t going no damn where until you tell me whassup!”

The salon grew silent. All eyes were on us.

I stood in front of her and smelled the scent of Juicy Fruit on her breath. One thing I had liked about Tameka was she had excellent hygiene and was a beast in bed. But when she started shopping for wedding gowns, I knew it was time for a brotha to bounce. “Ain’t shit up with us. I told you, it’s over.”

“You weren’t saying that last week when you were lying all up in my bed!”

The roomed erupted with “oohs” and “aahs,” and by now the females had come out from under the hair dryers to hear what was about to go down.

“Don’t try to play like I wasn’t honest with you. I told you I wasn’t looking for nothing serious.” Tameka was like all the others who thought they had what it took to change a brotha’s mind. I had yet to meet a woman with pussy that damn good. I ain’t gonna lie, Tameka is a cutie. She’s about five-three, mocha, with a tiny waist and ass for days. She has a short curly afro that looks good on her, and if she wasn’t so ghetto, maybe I would have kicked it with her a little longer. But one thing I don’t do is loud-ass women.

She smacked her lips. “Okay, so I guess you now gonna deny saying you loved me?”

Her comment made me laugh. “I never said that. You got that shit twisted. I said I love what you do for me.” I’m not one to put my business in the streets, but if she wanted to go there, then so be it.

“I know you ain’t passing up a top-of-the-line dime.” She planted her hands at her hips.

I reached inside my pocket. “Here’s two nickels. Now get the hell up outta here.”

“Who the fuck you think you talking to!” She got all up in my face and then started to scream at the top of her lungs, making a scene. The chick was straight gutter and I had no one to blame but myself. I was ready to wrap my hands around her neck and choke the shit out of her when I spotted the owner, Noelle Gordon, coming out from her office in back. Oh snap!

“What’s going on out here?” she demanded to know.

I tried to speak but my stomach was in a knot, which gave Tameka a chance to put her two cents in.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m trying to have a discussion with my man,” she yelled, snaking her neck as she spoke.

Noelle’s eyebrows curled. “I don’t know who you are, and with that attitude I don’t want to know. However, I do know this is a place of business, my business, and I would appreciate it if you’d get out of here before I have to call the police.”

Noelle is a full-figured sistah and the look in her eyes said she was ready to take Tameka down if she even dared to look at her cross-eyed. Already, I could see my lucrative career going out the window.

“Noelle, I got this.” Before Tameka could respond, I took her by the arm and led her out the salon. As soon as we were outside the door, she snatched her arm back.

“You ain’t got shit! I don’t appreciate you playing with my emotions, Chauncey.”

Through the storefront window I saw them nosy chicks inside, watching like it was a soap opera. “Listen, I didn’t play with your emotions. I told you straight up I wasn’t looking for anything serious. It’s not my fault you took it there.”

Tameka just stood there with her hands on her hips and suddenly her bottom lip quivered. “I love you.”

I simply shook my head. “I’m sorry, but I won’t lie to you.” Next thing I know, she hauled off and landed a slap across my face. Inside, the salon erupted with laughter. It took everything I had n. . .