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Chapter 1
“…nine, ten, eleven…and twelve.” Madison DuPree took one last look around the
restaurant, then smiled triumphantly. “Twelve gay men, but that’s not including the
one who doesn’t know what the hell he is. Check him out,” she said before nodding
toward the bar. As usual, Leonard’s was crowded, but it seemed even more so for a
Thursday evening.
Squished in between a nightclub and a strip joint, the restaurant was the first thing
people noticed because of its shocking purple brick front and cotton-candy-pink
trimming. It was in downtown Atlanta within walking distance of Centennial Olympic
Park, an arm’s length away from the CNN Center, and a quick jog from the Georgia
Dome.
But it wasn’t too packed to figure out who Madison was talking about. Honey-hued
and with the black man’s requisite bald head, he was flitting between men and
women as though he was at an all you-can-eat-buffet and he wanted to sample each
one.
“He could be bi,” Lauren Hopson offered in a dry tone, then rolled her eyes and took a
sip of her apple martini.
Madison turned around in her seat and scrutinized him. After a minute, she
concluded, “You’re right, he’s bi.”
Blair Ricci turned wide green eyes on her friends. “Do you think he knows…that he’s
bi?” Even though she was white and a housewife from the suburbs, in all the years
that they’d known one another she’d never been uncomfortable with asking them
questions. In some ways the three of them were closer than her own sisters.
Madison gave a loud snort. “Hell yeah, the dude knows he’s bi. After all, this is
Atlanta, where the dicks play double duty.”
Blair swiped a handful of red hair out of her face before glancing at the man. He had
moved on to a woman and was whispering something in her ear that caused her to
blush. “I don’t know…now he looks totally straight,” she said, bewildered. This whole
bi-gay thing was confusing.
“Oh Lord,” LaShawn Greene groaned and fingered the Bible in her lap. Their level of
conversation had sunk to a new low.
Madison shot her a look but continued. “That’s all part of their plan…to fit in and play
both teams without anyone finding out. I bet Leonard would know.”
“I bet he would,” Blair answered as she gazed around the restaurant. The owner of
the club was easy to spot. He was the only two-hundred-pound, six-foot-four black
man dressed in a gold sequined dress and Jimmy Choo shoes. “Oh, he’s busy,” she
said, disappointed, spying him at the front door greeting customers.
“Thank God,” LaShawn muttered, relieved as she relaxed against the leather
cushions of the spacious booth. Not even the half-eaten birthday cake, gifts, and
wrapping paper that littered the table could make it feel cluttered.
It was Thursday, and like every first Thursday for the last five years, it was their official
Screw Men Night and Blair’s birthday.
On Screw Men Night families were forgotten, worries were nonexistent, and fun
reigned. They were teenagers again. Mortgage-paying, suburb-living, pedicure-
loving, thirty-something-year-old teenagers. In a town where beautiful women were
as common as succulent peaches, they held their own.
But it was Lauren’s, Madison’s, Blair’s and LaShawn’s beautiful coloring—slick
brown, luscious red, luminescent pink, and vibrant yellow—that made one think of
M&Ms. In the crowd of chalk-colored blondes, ashy brunettes, and muddied down
grays, they stood out like splashes of sunshine against a black canvas.
They had met five years ago at a yoga class. In the middle of twisting their bodies into
shapes that made them look like human pretzels and stretching their limbs to what
felt like the ends of the earth, they had become fast friends.
“Why do you insist on doing this every time we go out?” Lauren hissed at Madison.
“You guys weren’t talking about anything interesting,” Madison answered in a
defensive tone. “Besides, all this gay stuff reminds me of my same-sex experience,”
she boasted and a loud groan went up. They all had heard the story hundreds of
times.
Lauren shook her head and sipped her drink. “Are you talking about the time you got
shitfaced at Mardi Gras and tongued that blond chick?” she asked but didn’t wait for a
reply. “I wouldn’t call that a same-sex experience…it’s just another slutty moment in
the life of Madison Dupree,” she finished and everybody laughed, even Madison.
“Speaking of Madison’s slutty moments, isn’t that Keith?” Lauren asked, and then
nodded toward the bar. He had sauntered in, carved his way through the crowd, and
made a spot for himself at the bar.
“What? Where?” Madison asked. She dared a look over her shoulder and groaned.
In a city where people tried on relationships as easily as sweaters, Madison had
worn more than her fair share.
“Shit!” she muttered, then eased down in her seat. Not that that would’ve made her
less noticeable; at five-ten, a hundred and thirty-five pounds, skin the color of spiced
cinnamon, and the face of a model, Madison was noticeable. Less than ten yards
away was the man she had dated four months ago. She wouldn’t even call it a
relationship. Three dates: First was dinner, second was movie, then came finding
the booty.
She grinned at the memory, but when she sneaked a second look, her heart nearly
stopped. Next to him was Robert, whom she’d dated right before Keith. “Dammit,
this city is getting too fucking small,” she groaned and scooted farther down in her
seat.
Lauren smirked at her friend’s distress. She was wiggling faster than a fish caught in
a net. “Weren’t you dating Keith the same time you were dating Robert and Carlton?
You and Keith were getting hot and heavy there for a minute. Wow girl, what
happened between you two? You never did tell us. Did you give him one of your
breakup speeches?” She fired the questions rapidly at her friend. Madison’s breakup
speeches were a running joke with the group. Madison cocked her head and gave
her a blank look. “You know what? Maybe I should call him over and ask him. I’m
sure Keith will spill the beans,” she teased, then motioned as if she was getting up.
“No!” Madison and LaShawn shouted at the same time. LaShawn glared at her
friends. “Why can’t we go out and have a good time? It’s the same thing every time
we go out, bicker, bicker, bicker. You guys fight worse than four-year-olds,” she
scolded. “You’ve always been like that. Remember that first yoga class?” Madison
rolled her eyes in response. “Y’all fought over the yoga mats.”
“It was my mat, I had just bought it. I had set it down for a second, then when I went to
pick it up, Miss Sticky Fingers had taken it.”
“It was my mat!” Lauren insisted.
“Stop it, you two!”
“I’m sorry. I guess we get carried away,” Lauren said. “We’ll be good,” she promised,
then reached into her purse and pulled out a white medicine bottle. Without glancing
right or left, she flipped off the lid and popped two quarter-size pills in her mouth,
which she quickly followed with a swallow of her martini.
Madison’s love life was forgotten as LaShawn, Madison, and Blair shot furtive
glances at one another. Madison raised her eyebrows at LaShawn, who jutted her
chin at Blair. “What’s wrong sweetie? You sick or something?” Blair asked.
Lauren shook her head. “Not really, I’ve had this headache for a couple of weeks now
and it won’t go away,” she answered, then glanced over at Madison, who had by now
inched her way up in her seat, but was still occasionally glancing over her shoulder
toward the bar.
“Oh Lord,” LaShawn groaned, as she discreetly glanced down at her watch. It was
getting late and she needed to call her fiancé for their nightly prayer session. “We all
hope you feel better. Let’s pray,” she announced and bowed her head, thus missing
the annoyed looks from her friends. “Heavenly Father,” LaShawn began, “please free
Lauren from her pain. Please take away her affliction so that she can walk through
life with a clear and unencumbered mind and spirit. Fill her soul with peace and
happiness. And please, Lord bless everyone here tonight, especially Blair on her
birthday. In Jesus’ name we pray, amen,” she finished.
Madison turned to LaShawn. “So how’s Calvin doing? Did you finally decide to give
him some?” she asked.
“Madison!” Lauren and Blair shrieked. LaShawn’s decision to be celibate wasn’t
something they talked about. It was like crazy relatives. The whole family knew they
existed, but they were never mentioned.
“What?” Madison asked, feigning innocence. “As if you guys weren’t thinking it.
Come on…do you really think she’s gonna wait until the wedding night?” Blair and
Lauren couldn’t meet her eyes. Madison turned her attention back to LaShawn.
“So?” she pressed.
LaShawn swallowed a retort. Three years ago when she walked in on her then
fiancé, Troy, screwing his secretary on his office couch as though they were two
rabbits on crack, she had dumped him. After that, she decided to wait until marriage
before any man even got a glimpse of her goodies. There was only one force strong
enough to make her keep her resolve: God.
“Calvin is fine, and my celibacy is fine,” LaShawn answered prissily, but she breathed
a little bit easier. She’d known Madison would get around to asking her about her sex
life some time that evening, and at least now it was done and over with. Now they
could move on to another topic.
Lauren shook her head at Madison before she looked across the table at LaShawn.
“Hey girl, how’re the wedding plans? Is there anything we can help you with?”
LaShawn smiled brightly at the question. “Naw, everything is fine. My sister is a big
help. I can’t believe that in another six months I’ll be Mrs. Calvin Worthy,” she
whispered dreamily.
Madison snickered and Lauren toed her, the pointy tip of her shoe digging into
Madison’s shin, Madison inhaled a short yelp. “Did you all get fitted for your
dresses?” LaShawn asked nonchalantly, but she stared pointedly at Madison.
Something told her Madison hadn’t even tried on her bridesmaid dress. Lauren and
Blair nodded and Madison mumbled under her breath. “What did you say Maddy?”
“I’ll do it next week,” she said. Madison hated the bridesmaid dress. It was lemon
colored with yards of ruffles and made her look like a canary. “So are we all going to
yoga this week?” A chorus of protests went up. “Come on, y’all, don’t be so lazy.
Besides where else can you touch your nose with your toes?” Madison quipped then
turned to LaShawn. “I bet that’s something Calvin will be thanking you for on your
honeymoon.”
Just then Leonard traipsed over to their table, his wife Thomaseena at his side. She
preferred to be called Thomas and dressed in men clothes.
“How are the finest ladies in Atlanta doing tonight?” Leonard asked and smiled so
brightly that it blanketed them all in its warmth.
“Hi Miss Lenora!” they chorused together as they took in his appearance. His
fingernails were polished a sultry red, his makeup rivaled any Essence magazine
cover model, and he rocked his blond wig as though he had been born with it.
“I’m loving the shoes,” Madison said as she admired the three-inch-heel, strappy
stilettos.
“Thanks, gurl,” Lenora gushed. “Outlet mall…let me know when y’all got time, we can
roll up there. I’ll show y’all where all the bargains are. But it all depends if Tommy
lets me get away,” he giggled and shot “Thomas” a coy look. She winked in
response.
“Bet!” Madison smiled, but as soon as the couple was out of earshot, she turned to
her friends. “I wonder who’s the man in bed.”
“Madison!” LaShawn reprimanded.
“I was kinda wondering that, too,” Blair admitted, then turned to Madison since Lauren
and LaShawn could care less. “Maybe they switch off.”
“Maybe.” Madison considered the idea. “Do you think that he dresses up in lingerie
and stuff?”
Blair shrugged. “I bet he does…he’s already in full drag.” She glanced across the
room at Leonard, who was greeting some customers. “Check out his makeup, it’s
fabulous.”
“I know. Do you think Thomas uses a dil—”
“Okay, enough of this!” LaShawn hissed. “Can’t you find something more
enlightening to talk about? Why does it always have to be about sex with you,
Madison?”
“It’s not always about sex,” Madison snapped. “I was just curious. And I bet you all
are, too,” she said, only to be met with silence. “Well, I’ll stop talking about it then.”
She was quiet for a moment, then drawled, “Soooo Blair, what are you and Rich doing
for your birthday? Some horizontal action?” she teased, then gyrated her pelvis as if
she was making love.
Blair reddened, drawing attention to her freckles, which looked like flecks of brown
paint. “We’re going to Europe,” she said airily. “We’re going to tour Rome. I can’t
wait. We were supposed to go ages ago, on our honeymoon, but you know how
things happen. He said if we had time, we’ll hop over to Paris.” She shrugged
nonchalantly, then stuffed a piece of her birthday cake in her mouth.
“Go ‘head Rich!” Lauren said. “I’m so jealous. Cleve and I haven’t been on a real
vacation in years. Between his business and my job we don’t have the time. I wish
we could get away,” she said wistfully. “You two have the perfect marriage, the perfect
house, and the perfect kids. You got it all, girl.” Lauren sighed, then reached over and
clasped Blair’s hand.
Blair smiled weakly. “Oh, thanks. But I think we all have it all,” she said, glancing
around the table and then raising her cup. “We should make a toast.” Blair cocked
her head and studied her friends. Her green eyes flicked over the ladies she loved
like sisters. Like her momma used to say, they were tighter than a gaggle of geese.
“To our perfect lives,” she murmured.
There was a moment’s hesitation before a round of cheers went up. The friends shot
furtive glances at one another before gulping down their drinks.