Blackgentlemen.com
Zane
Published by
Strebor Books
P.O. Box 6505
Largo, MD 20792
www.streborbooks.com
Duplicity © 2002 by Zane
Lessons Learned © 2002 by Shonda Cheekes
Your Message Has Been Sent © 2002 by Jaclyn Deron Mason
The Adventures of the Bold and the Bourgeois © 2002 by Eileen M. Johnson
Delusions © 2002 by Zane
Originally published in trade paperback in 2002.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means whatsoever. For information address Strebor Books, P.O. Box 6505, Largo, MD 20792.
ISBN-13: 978-1-4165-7165-0
ISBN-10: 1-4165-7165-5
LCCN 2003105030
Visit us on the World Wide Web:
http://www.SimonSays.com
Table of Contents
Acknowledgments
Duplicity
Zane
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Lessons Learned
Shonda Cheekes
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
Your Message Has Been Sent
J.D. Mason
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
The Adventures of the Bold and Bourgeois
Eileen M. Johnson
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Delusions
Zane
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
About the Authors
Acknowledgments
Zane
I would like to thank J.D. Mason, Shonda Cheekes, and Eileen M. Johnson for embarking on this journey with me. It has been an honor working with you ladies and I look forward to other endeavors in the nera future. As always, I would like to thank my parents (J&L), my kids (A&E), my sisters (C&C), my agent (Sara Camilli), my lawyer (Pamela Crockett, Esq.), and the rest of my extended family.
J.D. Mason
To Zane, Shonda Cheekes and Eileen M. Johnson, my sistah authors for Blackgentlemen.com. Thank you all for allowing me the privilege of contributing to this project. Your talents are all extraordinary and it’s a privilege to have been included. I’m anxiously anticipating even more fantastic works from you all.
—Peace
Shonda Cheekes
I would like to thank God for blessing me with a great family and great friends. For bestowing on me the gift of gab and the ability to use it creatively.
To the people who have personally had a hand in this project from its inception; my mother, Dorothy, who has always believed in me; Calina and Ramzey, my greatest creations. Mommy loves you with every fiber in my body. My Sisterfriend, Michelle V.—thank you for being my breath, my eyes and memory. For lending your extensive vocabulary skills when mine went on hiatus. For being my sixth sense. You are a blessing in my life. I don’t know how I lived those other twenty + years without you. Zane—thank you for giving me the opportunity to be a part of something huge. For constantly reminding me that I could do this. For being a great role model and an even better friend. Here’s to future endeavors!! To Lynette, Lance, Brian and Mario—I know we don’t get to pick our families, but if given the opportunity, I would choose each of you. To every single writer and book club who proved that there is a HUGE market for books for us, by us. I can’t forget the ladies at the Broward County Main Library in Ft. Lauderdale, Sharon Morris and the crew, who in a minutes notice accommodated anything I put together. Now it’s my turn to be the featured author. And last but definitely not least, Warren—this is what all the clicking at night was about. Thank you for challenging me along the way, helping me see that I can accomplish anything, no matter what obstacles people try to put in my way.
If I were to mention each and every person who in some way or another has touched my life or played a role in getting me to this point, my acknowledgments would be longer than my story…lol. So, to each and every one of you, (you know who you are) thank you for all your support.
Much love,
Shonda Cheekes
Dedicated to my mother, Lolita, my biggest supporter, for opening doors that I may never have found, and to anyone who’s ever been fortunate enough to find a lost love and make it work.
Eileen M. Johnson
To my family, who never grew weary after years of me creeping around with a notebook and pen; to Nadya the brutal muse, my friends (you know who you are), and Saadiq Fadil, the center of my universe.
Duplicity
Zane
Chapter One
“Nia, I thought I asked you to get my clothes from the cleaners?”
Nia glanced up from her computer monitor and leered at her twin sister, Neena, who’d just walked into the front door of their single-story brick house at the end of a country dirt road.
“Well, hello to you too,” Nia said sarcastically, after sizing her sister up.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to come off foul,” Neena stated apologetically. “I’ve just had a messed-up day and I only have about two hours to get to the airport.”
Nia got up from her computer workstation, strategically positioned by a picture window so she could look out at the trees while she did her medical billing, telecommuting job. She walked over to the front door that Neena had left ajar and closed it before one of the gigantic bumblebees that descended on their home every summer snuck its way in.
“What time does your plane leave?”
“Seven,” Neena replied, kicking off her burgundy, three-inch heels and collapsing gracefully into a comfy upholstered armchair. “I still can’t believe they’re making me go on a business trip at Christmas time.”
“That’s messed up.”
“I know. When I get back, I’m going to start some serious job-hunting. I can’t take this anymore.”
Nia attempted to mentally tally the amount of times she’d heard Neena announce she was starting a hunt for a new job. Nia knew there was a greater chance of Dennis Rodman giving up his women’s clothing fetish than of Neena quitting her job as a district sales manager for a pharmaceutical com
pany. A six-figure income, company car, extremely thick monthly expense account, corporate credit cards, and the ability to travel across country, sometimes internationally, was right up Neena’s alley. Having grown up on the outskirts of Charlotte, N.C., Nia was content to hang out in small clubs/juke joints while Neena always craved the city life. They were both still in small-town Kannapolis, sharing a rental home less than three miles from the house where they grew up, a house still occupied by their widowed mother.
“Where are you going to find another job with that type of salary and those kind of benefits?” Nia asked Neena, knowing Neena was way too materialistic to settle for anything less. “This is North Carolina. Not New York City.”
“What good are the fringe benefits if I can’t even spend the holidays with my family?” Neena retorted, rubbing her left foot and cracking her toes.
Nia’s face scrunched up when she heard Neena’s toes cracking. That sound was right up there with long fingernails scratching a blackboard on her disgusting-sounds meter.
“Momma’s going to be so disappointed, Neena. Have you told her yet?”
“No, I thought maybe you’d do it for me.”
“Oh no, that’s definitely on you. Momma’s not going off on me behind this while you’re somewhere flying over the friendly skies.”
“Okay; all right,” Neena conceded. “I’ll call her from my cell phone when we’re less than five minutes from the airport. That way she can’t fuss at me but so long.”
Nia flicked on the television to the evening news and sat down on the sofa, propping her legs up on a leopard-print toss pillow. “Good idea.”
“You and Bryant still spending Christmas Eve together, kissing under the mistletoe?”
Nia smacked her lips and held the palm of her hand up in Neena’s direction. “Please, don’t even mention his name!”
“That bad, huh?”
“Bad enough. Bryant is really acting strange lately. I feel like I need to move on.”
“Maybe not move on, but you need to explore other options. You’re too young to settle down with one man.”
“Since we’re three minutes apart, I guess we’d fall into the same category,” Nia chided.
“Silly heifer.”
Nia picked up the matching toss pillow from the floor and threw it at Neena. “Trifling hoe.”
“I love you too, Sissypoo!”
Nia rolled her eyes at her sister and used the remote to switch to FOX so she could catch the end of Judge Judy. “Your clothes from the cleaners are on your bed.”
“I knew you wouldn’t let me down.” Neena jumped up and headed toward the back of the house. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. You need help packing?” Nia yelled out after her, attempting to be nice since she knew Neena was a slow poke when it came to packing and often had to find a mall as soon as she reached her location because she’d forgotten this thing or that thing.
“No, but can you get my toothbrush and toiletry bag out the bathroom for me?”
“Okay.”
Nia walked past Neena’s bedroom door and paused long enough to see her toss a silver-plated vibrator into her flight bag. She held back a giggle, but couldn’t help but imagine the embarrassment Neena would feel if the damn thing set off a metal detector causing her bags to be searched.
Neena glanced up and spotted Nia in her doorway. She didn’t care if Nia had seen the vibrator or not. She knew for a fact that Bryant wasn’t dishing out any multiples. Shit, Nia’s bed would squeak for a measly five minutes, sometimes less, whenever Bryant stayed over.
“Don’t forget to throw in those trial bottles of shampoo. I hate that crap they leave on the sink counter in hotels.”
Nia giggled. “That’s because it’s not made for sistas. At least not for sistas with thick ass hair like us.”
“I know that’s right!”
Chapter Two
Neena clicked off her cell phone and took a deep breath.
“Momma was pissed, huh?” Nia asked, fully aware that she was. “I could hear her clear as a bell.”
Neena shifted in the passenger’s seat of Nia’s Mazda. Their mother definitely had a way of working her nerves at will. “She says I need to quit immediately. She doesn’t realize I have bills to pay and responsibilities. I can’t just up and quit; not until I find a new job.”
Nia laughed and turned the radio back up. Kevon Edmonds was belting out No Love. “With your tastes, absolutely not.”
Neena rolled her eyes at her twin, looking at the clock on the dash. If she didn’t get to the airport within the next five minutes, she was in serious jeopardy of missing her flight. It was one of the busiest travel days of the year, which meant long ass lines everywhere you looked.
“Very funny, Ms. Potted Meat.”
“Hey, you can’t knock the hustle. That Hormel Chicken Spread is kicking.”
“Oh, damn!” Neena exclaimed, slapping herself on the forehead.
“What? Did you forget something?”
“Not something. Someone.”
“Come again.”
“I was supposed to be hooking up with Jacob tomorrow.”
“Who’s Jacob?” Nia asked, having never heard the name before.
“Promise you can keep a secret?”
“We’re twins, Neena. I’ve known all of your business since we were born and I’ve never spilled the beans. Why would I start now?”
“Well, you don’t know about these beans.” Neena giggled.
“So tell me,” Nia prodded, wanting her sister to give up the info quickly because they were getting off on the exit for the airport.
“Look at you, foaming at the mouth and stuff.”
“You know I’m nosy.”
Neena smacked her lips. “Promise you won’t tell?”
“That’s the second time you’ve asked me that, Neena! Now tell me!”
Neena debated about coming clean. She was afraid that Nia would hit the roof once she found out what she’d been up to. While Nia wasn’t prone to telling her business, she would do it if she felt Neena was doing something unhealthy or potentially dangerous.
“What about the Della incident?” Neena asked sarcastically, bringing up the time that Neena had experimented with speed with an older neighbor.
“Neena, now you know your ass had no business doing drugs! I tried to talk some sense into you, but when you wouldn’t listen to me, I had to tell Momma.”
“You better not tell Momma this!”
“We’re older now. Besides, I know you’re not foolish enough to mess with drugs.”
“True.” Neena unzipped her purse and pulled out her plane ticket. “Okay, here goes.”
Nia turned the radio not only down, but completely off. She didn’t want to miss a word relating to this Jacob person.
“I met Jacob on the Internet.”
“The Internet!” Nia said excitedly. “Have you completely lost it?”
“Calm down. It’s not what you think.”
“You don’t know what I’m thinking right now, Neena.”
“Of course I know what you’re thinking. I’m your twin.”
Nia just had to hear this. “So what am I thinking?”
“You’re thinking that Jacob is some playa that uses the Internet as his pussy hunting ground, that he’s met a ton of women already, used them for sex, and now he’s setting me up to hit it and split. Am I right?”
Nia laughed. “Close. You left out the part about him being a midget.”
Neena joined her sister in laughter, recalling the mess Nia had found herself in after frequenting a particular chat room for African-Americans on the Sistergirls.com web site. Nia had practically fallen in love with a brotha from the Bronx, solely on the basis of his New York accent. They’d spent hours and hours cybering each other in chat rooms, burning up the telephone lines having phone sex, and making plans for a long and prosperous future. It wasn’t until Doug, the loverboy in question, mailed Nia two pictures of himsel
f that she realized he was six inches shorter than she was. Since Nia and Neena were both hovering somewhere around five feet two inches, that made Doug a shoe-in for the role of Mini-me if they ever made a ghettoized version of an Austin Powers flick.
“Nia, Jacob’s definitely not a midget.”
“And you know this how?” Nia asked snidely. “You’ve seen his picture?”
“Lawd, have I!” Neena licked her lips. “That’s what first attracted me to him.”
“He emailed it to you? What chat room did you meet him in? What does the brotha look like? He is a brotha, isn’t he? Is he local? Have you already met? Did you fuck him?”
“Nia, shut up! Damn!” Neena stated angrily, trying to get her sister to stop rolling questions off her tongue long enough for her to answer one of them. “Let me respond, will you?”
Nia clamped her lips shut reluctantly.
“I found his picture on a web site and we’ve never been in a chat room together. Jacob’s tall, dark, and fine as shit. You know how I flow. If a man ain’t fine, he’s not worth my time. Since he’s dark, he’s obviously a brotha and…”
“Not necessarily,” Nia interrupted. “He could be Indian, Pakistani, Egyptian, Por…”
Neena slapped Nia on the arm. “Quit!”
Nia giggled and shut up.
“Jacob lives in Durham and neither one of us has yet to make the two-hour trek to pay a visit because we decided to take it slow so, no, I haven’t fucked him.”
“Hmm, how long have you been talking to him?”
“A few months. And, to be honest, I was planning on rocking his world on Christmas Eve, but my screwy job has once again interfered.”
“Ooooh, maybe somebody’s trying to tell you something. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.”
