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1
How did I get myself into this? I thought as I sat at the tiny table in the huge club watching my baby sister sloppily dance in front of me. This drunk heifer hadn’t sat down for more than five minutes since we walked into the place over an hour earlier. And I don’t think she’d stopped drinking at all. She was currently bouncing to some song with her fifth or sixth—I lost count—Appletini in hand. The way she was acting, one would’ve thought it was her twenty-first birthday rather than her twenty-eighth.
I took a sip of the same strawberry daiquiri I’d been playing with since we first arrived. I didn’t like hard liquor any more than I did loud-ass music or big-ass crowds or sweaty-ass people, but there I was for the sake of sisterhood.
“Nicky, don’t you wanna sit down for a sec?” I asked my sister. “You’re spilling your drink.”
“No!” she slurred, eyeing me through drooping eyelids, her impossibly long fake lashes grazing her high cheekbones. “It’s ma birfday and I’m here to kish it! Woo! And Iiiiiiima take me a fine man home ssssstoo!”
I sighed and leaned back in my seat as she kept bumping and grinding the air in a ridiculously short black dress that looked to be pasted onto her petite body. “Yeah, well, that ain’t happening. I’m taking your drunk ass home whenever this little celebration is over. And where the hell is Renee?”
“Somewhere doing whatever Robert’s ugly ass tells her to do.”
Well, I couldn’t disagree with that. To be the oldest, our sister, Renee, was definitely not the wisest, especially when it came to her husband. I couldn’t stand his controlling, unfaithful, not-even-remotely-attractive ass. I truly couldn’t see why Renee married him.
“Aw, shit! She came!” Nicky shouted over the horrible mumble rap that was blaring from the speakers.
My head snapped up to see not only Renee, but her husband, Robert. Before I could say it, Nicky did: “Why the hell she bring him?” It seemed the presence of our brother-in-law had sobered her up a bit. Her speech was much less slurred.
“Hey, Nicky! Happy birthday, baby sis!” Renee gushed, as she pulled Nicky into a hug while Robert hung behind her in silence.
I tried unsuccessfully not to glare at him. Sorry ass…
As Renee bent over to hug me, I whispered, “Why the hell is he here?” in her ear.
She pulled out of the hug and gave me this crazy look before turning around and kissing Robert on the cheek. “Thanks for dropping me off, babe. Ang’ll bring me home later.”
He just nodded and walked off. Never even spoke to me or Nicky. But then again, he knew we hated him, and rightfully so.
As Renee slid into a chair next to me, Nicky finally sat her hot ass down, too. “So why is he here?” she asked, after she drained her glass in an obvious attempt to recapture the buzz Robert’s presence had ruined.
Renee crossed her legs and pursed her lips. “One, he’s my husband. Two, he volunteered to drop me off, because he knew we’d be drinking and he didn’t want me trying to drive home drunk.”
“And three, he’s probably in some corner of this club right now cheating on you,” Nicky said, as she attempted to flag a waitress down.
“No, he is not! Why do y’all have to act that way about him?” she asked, visibly flustered.
“Because he’s an asshole,” Nicky answered.
Renee fingered a strand of her thick, shoulder-length hair. “Like your drunk opinion matters.”
“Well, I’m not drunk, and I have to agree with Nicky. He’s an asshole, Renee. A cheating asshole, and you deserve better,” I said.
“I really hate I ever confided in you two when we were having problems. He is not cheating anymore, and I have forgiven him. I’m over it. Why aren’t y’all?”
“And he’s ugly,” Nicky said flatly, ignoring Renee’s question. “Just, why? Why, Nay? Like, seriously? All the guys you dated, and you marry him? He got a foot-long penis or something? You sprung? Turnt out? What is it?”
“You know what? I’m here to help you celebrate your birthday when I could be home with my man instead of sitting here listening to you insult him and me.”
I could see her eyes filling with tears, so when Nicky opened her mouth to deliver a rebuttal, I kicked her under the table, and when she looked at me, I gave her the eye. She clamped her mouth shut until the waitress finally arrived at the table, and then she and Renee both ordered drinks.
We’d left the subject of Renee’s marriage and had veered into a nasty conversation about some guy Nicky had recently slept with when Renee nearly shouted, “Hey! Isn’t that Khalil?”
My stomach dropped so fast, the little bit of liquor I’d consumed felt like it was made of pure lead. I needed some water. No, if Khalil Whitehead was really in that club, I needed to get the hell out of there. The man I un-affectionately referred to as my out-of-body experience was the last person I wanted to see.
Ever.
I followed Renee’s big, round eyes to a man wearing black slacks and a silky, vintage Versace-style shirt. Shit, it was him. It was definitely him. Only he would step into a club looking that tacky. How I was ever attracted to his wannabe music producer ass was beyond me. I slid down in my seat a bit and hoped with everything in me that he wouldn’t see me.
