Diva Diaries Read online

Page 2


  “Chrasey, it’s just that when things are good, they are so good. Then he goes and pulls something like this and messes it all up.”

  “I know, ’Kota ... and if it was the first or second time, I would tell you you’re overreacting. But he does this way too often—you can never depend on him. And let me guess—you got all sexy and ready for him, didn’t you?”

  “Girl ... my favorite teal-and-pink teddy I had been waiting to wear,” Dakota responded. They both giggled.

  “Look, ’Kota ... you just need to put your foot down. Any time you guys have plans, he feels no obligation to keep them or even call you to cancel. Each time he apologizes, and you step back out there and expect him not to do it again, there is disappointment after disappointment. It’s just out of hand.” As if she was more upset than Dakota, Chrasey rambled on. “Showing up hours late without even calling—you don’t even do that to a hooker, let alone someone you care about. You need to let him go or get serious and let him know that this is the last time. If he does it again, you’re through. I know you two don’t have a commitment, and deep down you know there may be some side pieces somewhere, but he has to know he can’t take you for a fool.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. When he does show up, I am going to have a long talk with him.”

  After about another ten minutes, Dakota got off the phone and jumped under the covers. After ten seconds on her plush peach pillow, the tears began to roll down her cheeks. She didn’t want to cry. What if he showed up right now? She would look terrible, with bloodshot eyes and a runny nose, and on top of that she was messing up her silk pillow covers. She realized, though, she wasn’t crying because of what Tony was probably out there doing, but because of what Chrasey had said. Just hearing that made her feel really low.

  When it came to Tony, she could barely understand herself. It wasn’t like Dakota wasn’t well put together. Dakota was in great shape for her age. She was five-feet-five, 125 pounds, with just enough titties and ass—not too much and not too little. She had a pretty, dark-chocolate complexion, with off-black long hair reaching about a quarter of the way down her back, and brown eyes. Her high cheekbones brought character to her face, but her full lips and slanted eyes were what actually made Dakota beautiful. However, Ms. Dakota Watkins wasn’t all looks—she had brains, too. She was the top publicist at her PR firm, and the youngest female on her level. She had several high-profile clients, was making over $95,000 a year, had a nicely furnished loft in a chic area of Manhattan, drove a 2004 purple BMW, and had what would be considered a great life. Despite all that she had accomplished, her love life overall was still chaotic.

  Here she was, letting Tony ruin another Friday night for her. Regardless of how many times she asked herself why, the only answer she could come up with was because she allowed it. Feeling disgusted with herself, for lying in an empty bed wearing lingerie, she finally got up and threw on an oversized night shirt. She took her stereo remote control and hit PLAY. Keisha Coles’s single, “I Just Want It to Be Over,” seeped from her Bose wave speakers as she wrapped her hair and got ready for bed. She had just put her Razac Perfect for Perms hair crème away and finished tying a scarf on her head when her phone rang. She wasn’t sure if it was Chrasey calling back, or Tony finally calling.

  “Hello.” Dakota tried to use her sexy-yet-upset voice.

  “Hey, miss,” a male voice responded from the other end of the phone.

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s David—you busy?”

  David was this “guy friend” of hers. They had been cool for some time; they had worked together a few years ago and never broke contact. A few years back, they’d had a few “indiscretions” between them, but they now had one of those “mature friendships.”

  After a few minutes of conversation, he was able to hear in her voice that she wasn’t at her best and offered to come over and cheer her up. She was hesitant at first, but then he offered to come make a late-night meal. Full of emotion, anger, and lust, she accepted his offer. Fully aware that she had no clue if Tony was going to just pop up eventually or not, she left her night shirt on, combed her hair back down, put on some lip gloss, and waited to see who would arrive first.

  2

  About That Time

  The Burken antique clock on the wall read 6:30 P.M., and Jordan was sitting at her black marble desk trying to finish up a project that she had given a Monday morning deadline. She was quickly scanning over the forms and notes, highlighting and marking comments down as she went along. She usually took more time with her cases, but time had flown and she couldn’t pull a late-nighter, not tonight.

  It was Friday, and the day before her six-year wedding anniversary. Her husband had called about three hours earlier and informed her that he had a special night planned to start off their romantic weekend. He told her to make sure she was home no later than 9:30, which at that time was giving her more than enough time to finish up, so she’d promised she would.

  It was still only 6:45, and she knew she had time, but she wanted to get home even earlier to take a shower and change clothes and still be ready by 9:30 instead of just stumbling through the door at 9:00 or so. With that in mind, she finished reviewing the documents and started packing up for the evening. She locked her office door and walked down the hall and placed the documents in her partner’s in-box.

  Already feeling a sense of relief about starting her weekend, and this was a special one that she had been looking forward to for weeks, she began to walk happily toward the elevator. Just as she went to press the DOWN button, she heard a voice call her name. She turned around to find her paralegal, Jackie, standing in the hallway with a file in her hand.

  “Have a good evening, Mrs. Miller. I just wanted to make sure you remembered the Martinez case is first thing Monday morning.”

  Jordan’s shoulders dropped, “Oh, my goodness. I forgot Jayon asked me to work on that for him. What time are we due in court?” she asked.

  “At 9:30 A.M.,” Jackie said in her sorry-to-be-the-one-to-break-it-to-you tone.

  “Damn,” Jordan blurted.

  She had spent all that time with that other case, when she could have been working on this one and been finished. The other case’s court date wasn’t until Tuesday; she had marked the deadline for Monday so she would be ahead of the game. So to remember there was actually something on Monday that she was behind on, and that now she had to stay to do, just ruined her whole happy mood.

  Jordan looked at her watch and realized she could afford to spend another hour or so at the office and still get home in time for Omar’s plans.

  “OK. Thanks so much. Are you staying late tonight?” Jordan said.

  “I will be here for about another half an hour,” Jackie replied.

  “OK, great. Is that the Martinez file in your hand?”

  “Yes, it is,” Jackie said as she handed her the file.

  “Thanks—can you pull the other miscellaneous file for the case from Jayon’s office and bring it to me.”

  “Sure,” Jackie replied in her chipper tone.

  Jordan walked back down the hall to her office, unlocked the door, placed her briefcase and other belongings in the chair by the door, and plopped into her chair. She had already calculated that she would not stay past 8:00 P.M., regardless of what wasn’t completed. Normally she would have just taken it home, but she knew she would be celebrating all weekend and probably wouldn’t get to any work. Besides, all she had to do was type up an outline for their appearance on Monday. It wasn’t the trial, it was just some pretrial procedures. The case was important, so they wanted to be prepared, but Jordan had other priorities as well. She was fully aware that her extensive workload was keeping her away from her happy home, and she had been struggling to balance the two. Omar had dropped their son off at his mother’s, and Jordan really wanted the time alone with her husband; it wasn’t often they had that. So, determined to get her work done quickly, she started scrambling through the file, sortin
g what she needed to type up her outline and notes for the case.

  Next thing she knew, Jordan looked up at the clock; it was already 8:30. She had no idea the time had gone by so fast. She found herself deep into the case and must have gotten carried away. Once she realized the time, she immediately panicked. She had decided to bring it home with her and sneak some time away to tend to it, but she remembered her colleague Jayon would need the file.

  She picked up the phone to call Omar, and as she went to dial the number, she heard a voice.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello,” she replied.

  “Hi, it’s me, Jayon.”

  “Oh, I was just trying to dial out to make a phone call to Omar.”

  “Oh, OK. I just got back into the office and wanted to see if you were still here. Do you want to go over some last-minute things on the Martinez case? We have court Monday morning.”

  “I know, Jayon—I just spent the last couple of hours reviewing all our notes and preparing. Where have you been?”

  “I went out with some clients to have a few drinks,” he responded.

  “I am coming down to your office in a few seconds to wrap this up—just let me make this call,” Jordan responded.

  Jayon was Jordan’s colleague and one of her closest friends since undergrad. Both of them ended up going back to graduate school at the same time—Jordan went to law school, and Jayon went for his MBA in accounting. A few years out of law school, Jordan and one of her classmates, Elizabeth, from Columbia University, decided to start a law firm together. At that same time, Jayon wanted to open a private accounting office, and was looking for office space. Jordan found an office building in midtown that was leasing a floor. It was in a great building, and at a fair price. It was too good to be true, so the three of them decided to lease the space together to make better use of it. It worked out pretty well, because they had all become a great help to each other. Elizabeth’s specialty was tax and labor law, so she and Jayon were always able to assist each other with different clients and cases. Jordan specialized in entertainment law, but with some of the clients, Jayon would assist her as well and vice versa. This was also their way to have some teamwork despite their busy work schedules. After all, the door did say MILLER, MESSING, & MITCHELL.

  Jordan gathered all that she had been working on and put it back in the file. She placed it in her briefcase, and picked up all of her things from the chair and headed down the hall to Jayon’s office. She locked up her office, just figuring she would leave straight from his.

  She suddenly remembered to call Omar. She ran back in her office and quickly dialed the number. She called the house and there was no answer. The answering machine picked up and she left a message.

  “Hey, baby. It’s 8:45, and I know I am supposed to be home by 9:30. I’m running a little late. I just have to work on some loose ends with Jayon for a case we have first thing Monday morning. I am so sorry ... I love you ... I won’t be too late—I should be there by 10:00. Call me if you need me.”

  She hung up, locked the door, and walked down the hall to Jayon’s office. She placed her briefcase on his couch and sat across from him.

  “Is Jackie still here?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, so it’s just the two of us. Cool. Do you want to order some dinner?”

  “Jayon, I can’t stay. It’s me and Omar’s anniversary, and he is actually waiting on me at home now.”

  “Oh, OK. So, don’t let me keep you. Maybe we can do this Monday morning.”

  “Showtime is 9:30 in the morning—we won’t have much time. Real quickly, let’s just take a few minutes to get on the same page for Monday.”

  Jordan felt slightly uncomfortable speaking of her and Omar’s anniversary, because Jayon’s fiancée had called their engagement off a couple of months earlier. He had been going through a lot, which was another one of the reasons he’d asked for Jordan’s help on this case. He’d fallen behind on a lot of his work, and was kind of just getting himself back together.

  Quickly getting on the same page took longer than expected, and about forty-five minutes later, Jordan was at the copy machine making a copy of her notes for Jayon. She glanced up at the clock over the water cooler—it said 10:00.

  “Damn,” she said out loud to herself. She knew Omar was at home waiting for her, probably pissed off.

  She rushed back toward Jayon’s office. “Here are my notes ... I gotta go ... I’ll see you at 8:00 A.M. at the courthouse,” Jordan said hastily as she scurried into the office and toward his desk.

  As she leaned over to place the notes on his desk, he reached for her hand.

  “Don’t go yet, Jordan,” he said, looking her straight in her eyes. “Can you stay and keep me company for a little while longer?”

  As Jordan pulled her hand away, her heart started to beat so fast she thought even he could hear it.

  “Jayon, I told you Omar has plans for us tonight. I’m sorry.”

  Jayon rose from his seat and began to walk around his desk toward Jordan. She backed away slightly from his desk, feeling a sense of shock at what she assumed was happening.

  As he approached her, he reached for her hand once again. “Jordan, I really need you tonight. Can you just stay a little bit longer?”

  Trying to pretend she did not pick up on the seductive vibe, Jordan kept her hands in his and said, “Is everything OK? Do you want to talk?” She thought this might defuse the situation—she always believed when in an awkward situation, you should act like you don’t notice.

  Her plan didn’t work. Jayon pulled her closer. “I just want you to be here with me tonight.”

  Before Jordan could register her next thought, Jayon had leaned down and begun to kiss her lips. As the little voice inside of her screamed, Jordan jerked and tried to back away. Determined, his lips continued to attempt to connect with hers.

  Jordan placed her hand on his chest to keep him at a distance. With a sense of control, she finally spoke. “Jayon. What are you doing?”

  He covered her hand with his on his chest. “Jordan, I know this is our workplace, but what happens here doesn’t have to interfere with anything.”

  She took her hand away and walked toward the chair that had her belongings in it. As she picked up her stuff, she turned back around and looked at him. Disappointed, she said, “I’m not sure what you mean by ‘what happens here.’ I thought we had a friendship—and a company.”

  He just looked at her.

  “Jayon—what are you thinking? We’re not in college, we are adults and I’m married. I know you have been drinking, and I don’t know if this has to do with Dawn breaking up with you, but you can’t do this. To be honest, I’m disappointed in you,” she said as she stood by the door.

  Despite her comment, he continued, “This has nothing to do with Dawn or how much I’ve had to drink—this has everything to do with me and you,” he said.

  “Well, Jayon, my husband is at home waiting for me and I must go,” Jordan said and went to walk through the door.

  “Can we talk about this later, Jordan?,” he said, seeming worried that she was upset.

  Without looking back at him, she said in an aggravated tone, “I guess we will talk later.”

  3

  Friend or Foe?

  She opened the back passenger door to her midnight black 2005 BMW X5 jeep to put her briefcase and jacket on the seat. She closed the back door, opened her driver’s side door, stepped up inside of it, and sat down. As she checked to make sure her mirrors were straight, she took an extra minute to glance in the rearview mirror at what was left of her at the end of her crazy day. Her eyes looked tired and her makeup was completely gone. Jordan didn’t wear much makeup—she didn’t really need any, and she would wear just enough to accentuate her features. Jordan was five-feet-seven, 150 pounds, with a Coca-Cola-shape body; she was a 34D on top, and a size 8 on the bottom. She still hated her extra weight, and was desperately trying to start an ae
robic class to tone up her stomach and thighs. She was brown-skinned, with shoulder-length, dark-brown hair with copper highlights. Her light brown eyes were almond-shaped, and sat above her button nose and petite lips. She had an oval-shaped face, with a slight pudge in her cheeks, giving her a baby-face look to contrast with her sexy shape.

  She took about ten seconds before starting her car. Her mind was racing through a million thoughts; she couldn’t believe what had just happened. She and Jayon had a thirteen-year friendship, and they had maintained a rare platonic opposite-sex friendship. He was the closest male in her life, excluding family, and she was the closest female in his, excluding family. They had always treasured their bond, and even when they weren’t as close as usual, they had an understanding that they were always there for each other when needed. After college, once while Jordan was in law school and Jayon was in grad school, they had a few weeks when they strayed from their platonic friendship, maybe just to satisfy their curiosity. She and Omar had broken up, and after a few weeks she and Jayon were taking advantage of the opportunity to spend more time together and go on a much-needed vacation.

  They went on a cruise to the Caribbean, and while on the ship the romantic environment influenced them and they overstepped the line. Still, they never did sleep together. They had shared their first kisses during that cruise, but even with all the temptation, all they had done was made it to about second base. After they returned home, their time together increased and they discussed the possibility of a relationship. They both knew the history between Omar and Jordan, and they couldn’t make a decision until more time had passed. Sure enough, after another month had passed, Omar decided to try to work it out, and as usual, Jordan agreed to try. She had discussed it with Jayon and he was supportive of it; she and Jayon both knew that was typical for her and Omar, and that’s why they had decided not to go all the way in the first place.