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CHAPTER NINE

CHANEL

T here was no sunlight to wake me the next morning. There was no light coming in through his basement apartment windows. The small rectangular windows were tinted with a dark film that seemed as thick as card stock paper. I felt a wave of unfamiliar emotions the next morning. I honestly didn’t even know if it was the next morning. It just felt like I’d slept a complete eight hours. Zand had sleeping pill gas in his dick.

He didn’t have a wall clock or an alarm clock anywhere in his bedroom. I needed to find my clothes, purse and cell phone. Getting out of his apartment was a priority. If I stayed too long, I would feel guilty even though I didn’t have a thing to feel guilty about. We were two consenting adults. This wasn’t something I did all the time. Hell, it wasn’t something I did at all.

I couldn’t believe I slept with my neighbor. There was no way I could go back to The Castle, ever. That nightclub was off-limits. It wasn’t that big of a deal. My club days were coming to an end. I wasn’t just like all of his other one-nightstands. I lived in the same building as the man. I probably should’ve thought this through before I let him get all up in my juicy fruit.

I didn’t feel dirty or slutty, but I felt stupid with a dash of needy. I needed that dick, and I had it all up inside me. Oh lord, I hated being weak. Now I was going to have to listen to a four-hour gospel playlist to cleanse myself of my reckless behavior. I needed some melodies from heaven to rain down on me.

Soon as I tell Morgan, she’s going to chastise me for being so loosey goosey. I was supposed to be lying low in this new city. Not riding my mysterious neighbor’s gi-norn-mess dick like I was in a rodeo. Because yes, that was also something that happened in the middle of the night.

Zand had a revolving door of women, and I just made myself one of his many conquests. It happened and I couldn’t take it back. Truth be told, I didn’t want to. That was some of the best sex I’d ever had. It was sensual and sweet. He hit all the spots without beating me to a pulp. He caressed every inch of me without leaving bruises. Now I knew what being caught up in the rapture really meant.

I didn’t shower when I got home because I wanted to smell him on my body. I wanted to savor his intoxicating flavor. I wanted to feel something other than loneliness, despair, and fear. Zand did that for me. He gave me a night of repose.

The dick was superb, but we exchanged fluids. I wanted to freak out about it later rather than sooner. I could panic tomorrow. I was going to have to get my ass out of the house and buy a morning-after pill. To make matters worse, I was going to have to get tested for STDs. Was the phenomenal sex even worth all the drama? Time would tell. I was going to have to check back with myself once I knew I was free of diseases and embryos.

All the drama because the condom broke. That’s never happened to me before. Why in the world was he forcing his large penis into a normal size condom? One size does not fit all. He knew what tools he was working with. He said he was clean. But just because he said he’s clean, don’t make it true. I’m not going to take his word for it.

The next few days were stressful for me. Waiting for my blood work to come back from the lab was nerve wrecking. I had to get a gynecologist recommendation from a coworker because I didn’t have one in this town. I didn’t actually need one when I first arrived in Chicago. I wasn’t planning on sleeping with anyone. And then Zand happened. I wished I was prepared, but I wasn’t. I wished I had got to know him better before I spread my legs, but I didn’t. I was drawn in by Zand’s cool and sexy nature.

After five days of worrying, I could breathe a sigh of relief. I was sure the Plan B pill worked just because I’d never heard of it failing. My pap smear and my labs came back STD free. I celebrated the win with a pint of Talenti Sorbetto in Roman Raspberry flavor. I didn’t care about the calories. I needed something to make me feel sated since sex was off the table. I swore off all men for the time being. Good old unprotected sex was just so stressful.

I hated thinking about Zand, the man of many names— Mr. Vampire, Alexander, Zander and Mr. Valentine. Thinking about if he was thinking about me was driving me bat-shit crazy. I’m sure he wasn’t giving me a single fleeting thought. His apartment was a revolving door of various women. I had to come to terms with the fact that I was just one of many.

I slept with that man and I didn’t even have his cell phone number. I didn’t even know what I was doing sleeping with someone who lived in my apartment building. This definitely wasn’t part of the plans I had when I moved to this city. I was already messing up. I was supposed to be focused on my career. I wanted to pay off my credit cards, raise my credit score and save up money to buy a house. I wanted to live my life in Chicago without getting into anything physical with a man. My judgment was not the greatest in the man's department.

I stayed in my apartment, not sure what to do to avoid seeing Zand. I went to work, but I made sure I didn’t run into Mr. Wham Bam Thank You Ma’am. I was hiding out, and it seemed to be working.

After a long day at the job, I needed a friend and although Morgan was four hundred and ten miles away; she was a constant source of support for me. I called her up, and she answered on the second ring.

“What you doing?” I asked.

“I’m doing Brandy.”

In unison we sang, “Sitting up in my room. Back here thinking about you.” We giggled. We were a hot mess when we got together.

“You still hiding from that man?”

“Every-damn-day.” I sang.

“You’re real immature.”

“I’m embarrassed.”

“Was he laughing when he was blowing your back out?”

“No.” I frowned into the cell phone.

“Well, you don’t have a damn thing to be embarrassed about. Did he leave you any more notes?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged, although she couldn’t see me sprawled out in my bed.

“Girl, stop being silly. Go check the damn flowerpot.”

“I’m afraid to look.”

“Why? I thought he was gone to that club every night.”

“I think so. I don’t know. I’m trying to stay out his way.”

“Go. Check and see if his car is out there.”

“His car never moves.” I knew I told her he likes to walk around the crime-ridden streets.

“Get up and go see.” She ordered.

“Okay, I’m going.” I hopped out the bed and walked to the back of my apartment. I peeked out the window that overlooked the back parking lot. I couldn’t believe it. Zand’s car was gone. I was looking at an empty spot.

“Hey.” Morgan called to me through the cell. “Is his car there? ”

Just to be sure, I gazed over the parking lot one more time. “No, his car isn’t out here.”

“Well, take your ass down to that ugly ass flowerpot and see if he is still leaving notes for your hit-it and quit-it ass.”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, I got to put my house-shoes on.”

I tossed my duvet off my body and scooted off the bed. I slipped my feet into my Nike slides. I did a little shuffle toward my bedroom door. When I got to my front door, I unlocked it and fixed the lock so I could get back in.

“Hurry up.” Morgan muttered. “I’m invested in this soap opera.”

“Calm down, I got to go down a flight of stairs.” I whispered into the cell, “What if he didn’t write another note?”

“Girl, get your scary ass down them steps.”

I quickly jogged down the stairs. I peeked my head out the back door. I leaned down to tilt the flowerpot, being extra careful not to drop my cell phone.

I couldn’t believe it. There was something there, another note. He clearly has no clue that his pen pal and Chanel from apartment 2B are one and the same.

I wanted to hoot, holler and do a little praise dance, but not in a public space. I dashed up the steps to my apartment.

“Hello! Hello!” I heard Morgan’s voice bellow out of my cell phone.

When I was back in the comfort of my apartment, I lifted the cell to my ear.

“I have another note.”

“Damn, this is better than Bravo TV. Come on, friend, read it.”

“Okay, Okay.” I jogged through the apartment to my bedroom. Kicking my slides off, I jumped back into my bed. “You ready?”

“Jason Bourne, ready.”

With a hefty inhale; I opened the note. With a hearty exhale; I instantly started reading out loud .

Dear Human, (I don’t know your name)

If I could die, I would die to see you. I don’t know why you are so hesitant to have a face-to-fang conversation with me. I promise, on my immortal life, that I will be on my best behavior. How long do you want to play these reindeer games? I don’t have any vampire movie or television references for this note. I just have a bloody, burning desire to meet you. You are safe with me. I don’t bite the people I like.

Signed,

Mr. Vampire

“Woo child, what you about to do?” Morgan was as geeked as I was.

“Not a damn thang.”

“Coco Chanel, he’s getting tired of these little notes. He wants a face-to-fang, get up in that thang.”

“He’s already been up in my thang. He just don’t know it.”

“True. But you gotta tell him something.”

“I’m not going to write him back. It’s silly. This part is over. There’s really nothing more to say.”

“If you don’t write him back, he’s probably going to think it was you writing the notes and not some other chick.”

“You think so?”

“Haven’t you been hiding from him?”

“Yes, but?—”

“Then the notes stop.” Morgan mimicked Cardi B’s voice. “That’s weird. That’s suspicious.”

“I don’t know. I have to think about it.”

“Gone on and write that man another little letter. You know he didn’t give you an STD. He seems nice, and he owns a whole nightclub, like a popular nightclub.”

“I don’t care about his money. ”

“He don’t seem to care about it either. That’s why he got his rich ass living in that shitty basement dungeon.”

“I have to work early tomorrow.”

“And?”

“And I need to go to sleep.”

“So you’re trying to get me off the phone? Okay, it’s cool. Sweet dreams, vampire queen.”

“Goodnight.”

I ended the call, grabbed the charging cord and the prong to push into my cell phone. Once I saw it was charging, I placed the phone on my bedside nightstand. I reached for the string to the lamp and pulled it.

Darkness.