Cheesecake and Teardrops Read Online Free PDF Page A

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    Tangie couldn’t wait for the day to be over. She was seeing Blade Watson that night, and the minutes couldn’t pass fast enough. It was their second anniversary and he said he had a surprise for her. As usual, she would have to pick him up because he didn’t have a car. After all, he had just moved out of his mama’s house and was still trying to get on his feet. Once a month Tangie had the weekend off, and this was it. She rushed out of there as fast as anyone in their right mind would, jumped in her car, and headed home to Springfield Gardens. The minute she walked through the door, she checked her machine for messages. Unfortunately, Blade hadn’t called yet, but that didn’t mean anything.
    He knew that she wouldn’t be home until six-thirty, and it was just a little after seven.
    Tangie put on a CD and headed for the kitchen to start dinner. Blade loved her cooking, or at least he said he did. A man would say almost anything to get a woman into bed—even if it meant lying through his teeth. She whipped up a dish of chicken parmigiana and placed the dish in the oven to bake.
    Then she got out of her sweats and sneakers and ran her bath. She took the cordless phone into the bathroom and turned around and grabbed her cell phone too—just in case. The hot bubble bath relaxed her instantly. She was tempted to call Blade and engage in some steamy phone sex but decided not to. By eight o’clock he hadn’t called.
    Eight-thirty—still no Blade. Now she was really getting ticked off. He worked nine-to-five and had promised to call her the minute he got off work. Nine o’clock—nothing. Finally, she called and left him two messages on his home phone and his cell. She might as well have been calling the man on the moon. It wasn’t the first time she had been stood up by Blade. She was tired of his bull. Tangie ate alone that night. With every mouthful, she vowed not to let him into her bed no matter what his excuse was. She cleaned up the kitchen and got ready for bed—more angry than disappointed. Tired of playing the fool, she drifted off to sleep.
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    Blade knew Tangie would be pissed off, being that it was their anniversary and all, but he was having too much fun scoping some blonde chick two rows up at a Jay-Z concert out at Westbury. She was sitting with a girlfriend and every so often she’d glance back, hold his stare, and toss her hair.
    A definite tease, Blade thought as he watched her flirt with him. At one point, she caught his eye and slowly licked her upper lip before turning back around in her seat. She was definitely feeling him. Blade smiled to himself. He knew his stock was rising without even reading the Wall Street Journal .
    Luckily, they caught up with each other outside in the parking lot and introduced themselves. He checked her out head to toe in one quick glance. She looked better up close with her full lips and deep blue eyes. Or were they contacts?
    Blade was glad that he had come stag. No sense bringing sand to the beach. She quickly grabbed his hand and scribbled her cell phone number on his palm while her girlfriend tooted impatiently for her to get a move on.
    Later that night, Blade worked as an exotic dancer, filling in for a sick coworker at the last minute. He oiled down his taut, spicy brown body until it glistened like gold. He knew he was all that as women stuffed his bikini with tips. His nickname was Razor Blade ’cause he was cut sharp and deep. He looked out at the crowd. Women of all shapes, sizes, ages, and color were present. Black, white, Latina or Asian—all women wanted the same thing, and he knew just how to serve it up. Gyrating, he delivered the goods until they were caught up in a frenzy. After the show, the club’s owner stopped by and promised something extra for coming into work on his night off as Blade relieved his swollen bikini of tens and twenties. Damn, I’m good, he thought to