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.“Michael,” she says pointedly.“I’ll be right over here.” She walks away a few feet but glues her eyes on us.Oh great, I think.Girlfriend needs to know that Michael West is strictly parked in my “good friend” zone.I could never fall in love with a man whose full-time job is chasing skirts and collecting numbers.I don’t want to spend every waking moment worrying that my man is out there hugged up with another woman.And Mike hugs up all kinds of women without regard to age, race, money, size, class, or parenting abilities.My nickname for Michael West is “The Predator.”“Hey man, what are you doing in Wig World?” I ask him, ignoring his woman’s hostile stare.“I’m here to hook my baby up.”“That’s nice, Mike.Uh, Michael,” I say hurriedly.Michael laughs quietly.“Jeez, Mike, your girl is grabbing on to you like you something special.”“I am something special.”“I wouldn’t know that.”“Not that you couldn’t have known,” he complains.“But you never had eyes for a brotha like me.”“You said it, I consider you a brother, not a lover.No offense, it’s just that, well, I’m glad to see you aren’t hurting in the romance department,” I sweetly tell him.I discreetly check out his girl.She’s far too skinny to hold on to, and what’s with the superflat behind? Exactly what does he see in this chick? It’s as if Francine can hear my thoughts, because she flashes me another harsh expression and then resumes looking at bottles of shampoo.Hmm, I’m assuming she’s not Mike’s number one.Why else would she be acting like a number two? I do not want to be like her, all paranoid and possessive.A true number one never worries if any other woman is in her man’s rotation, because she feels secure.All this is helping: the more I decide what I want in a relationship, the more confident I feel.I turn to call to Demetria.“Hey, Demetria, look who’s honored us with his presence.”Michael stands frozen and speechless as Demetria slowly walks directly to him and clasps both his hands.He advances his lips toward her cheek, but she smiles coyly and moves a step back.Frowning, he reaches for her again.She laughs and shifts her head to the side.“C’mon,” he pleads and grabs Demetria by the shoulders.She blushes, lightly kisses his lips, and raises one of her legs against his.“Girl, you crazy?” I frantically warn her.“What you talking about?” she asks.I point a finger at Francine.She’s standing with her back facing us, which is great, but I know that won’t last long.Mike walks over to her.“Whatev.” Demetria shrugs and gives me a look as if she can’t believe I sliced her action with Michael.I shake my head at her in amazement.“We’re good friends,” she insists, looking at me as if I’m the one with the problem.“Friends kiss?” I challenge her.“Sometimes,” she says, squirming.I walk up to her and whisper, “You’ve let Mike lay his pipe in you?”“What? I-I don’t like to kiss and tell.”“You’re a lying wench,” I say, laughing.“But that’s fine.” Demetria thinks she’s slick.I notice how she’ll give me the juice on some of her romances and flings, while others are under tight lock.But it’s not like I have the energy to try to keep an accurate account of her love life.“He’s a cutie with a nice booty,” she says quietly in my ear.“So sorry, couldn’t resist.He and I have never hooked up, I swear to God,” she tells me.But she’s staring intently at Michael.And he’s staring right back at her, though he’s talking to Francine.“Hey, boo, you found what you want? Take it to the register.Here’s some cash.And go wait for me in the car.I gotta handle something.” Mike hands Francine a few bills and removes one key from his key ring.“Just hurry up, Michael.” Her heels click loudly against the floor as she storms over to the cash register.Mike looks back at us smiling confidently.“My boo loves me.”“Uh-huh,” Demetria says dryly.She grabs Mike by the hand and looks up in his eyes.“Why you with her?” she asks.“Uh, what’s that supposed to mean?” he says, frowning.“Don’t trip, Michael.I mean, look at her; she’s got that anorexic giraffe look, like all she eats is carrots; she has no ass whatsoever, and she’s a few inches taller than you….I just imagine you with someone different than that.”“Demetria, knock it off,” I cut in.“I don’t think Mike is obligated to tell you—”“Naw, it’s cool, Veron,” he says.“I ain’t got anything to hide.” Suddenly I notice a huskiness in Mike’s voice that wasn’t there before [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]