Diva Diaries Read Online Free PDF Page B

said?”
    â€œPretty much ... I think she wants to stay here.”
    â€œYou think? ... Did she ask you that?”
    â€œNot directly, but in so many words.”
    â€œWell, what did you tell her, in so many words?”
    â€œNothing, really.”
    Lexia was a friend of Jordan’s, but not a friend she loved and trusted enough to let her stay with her and her husband.
    â€œWell, let me call her before she pops up over here. I will suggest to her that she stay with Dakota—she has more space at her place.”
    â€œWhatever,” Omar said as he excused himself from the table.
    â€œSo, what’s for dessert?” Jordan asked as Omar headed in the kitchen with his plate.
    After a few moments with no response, Omar walked out of the kitchen with a can of whipped cream and some strawberries, “I don’t know what you’re having, but I know what I am having for dessert!”
    Jordan smiled, and gave a dirty grin. From the outside it appeared as if that was just what she had in mind. On the inside, though, Jordan was kind of hoping somehow it would have gotten too late for sex. She simply just wasn’t up for kinky, all-out performance sex. She knew her outfit said, “come get me,” so there was no way she could back out at this point. Between what had happened with Jayon, and the overall frustration from the whole night, she would have preferred a quickie. However, Omar had so much more in mind. So Jordan attended to her wifely duties and since it was their anniversary, she quickly adjusted her attitude and enjoyed every minute of dessert.

4
    Here We Go Again ...
    â€œ H e was supposed to be here thirty-five minutes ago. I just can’t stand it when he does this.”
    Chrasey was standing outside of her workplace at 5:35 P.M., waiting for her husband Keith to pick her up. Frustrated and downright livid, Chrasey walked down the street to the bus stop on the corner of Stewart Avenue and Mason Street, in Long Island . As she approached the stop, she reached in her bag to check her cell phone for missed calls, just to see if he had called. As she pulled it out, her wallet fell to the floor along with a piece of paper. As she kneeled down to pick it up, so did a gentleman who was standing beside her who she had been too pissed to even notice. He got to it first and picked up the wallet and piece of paper and handed it to her.
    â€œThanks,” she said, hardly looking at him.
    Looking at her cell phone, there were no calls, just as she expected. There was no sense in calling him, because she had already done that five times since she first stood in front of the building. The last time she spoke to him was at about 4:00 P.M., and he’d said he would be there at exactly 5:00.
    For the past month, Chrasey hadn’t had a car and Keith had been picking her up from work. A drunk driver had hit Chrasey’s car and practically totaled it. It would be at least another month before all the insurance stuff was handled and she could get another car. A month more seemed too long, because by then she would probably have killed Keith. His running late to pick her up, just like his coming home late, had become normal behavior for him. It wasn’t worth discussing or arguing over because he would act like she was crazy, so most days she didn’t even mention it.
    Keith and Chrasey had been married for eight years, and the past three had not been so good. They fought at least three times a week, and their communication was minimal and unhealthy. Keith was usually distant—she couldn’t even get him to have a full-fledged conversation with her. The only time he was sweet was when he wanted some from her. Chrasey tried to go along with the way things had become instead of fighting every day, but all the while she was feeling more resentment toward him and their marriage. Still, on days when she was going through things like this, she could just explode.
    â€œYou