Guilty of Love Read Online Free PDF Page B

away at college.
    “ What can I say? Hali and I
have a standing gym date every other Saturday.”
    “ And a non-stop romantic
dating experience the other days of the week.”
    At twenty-six, Malcolm was three years
younger, but stood an inch taller at six-foot-five. His honey skin
was a shade darker than Parke’s cocoa-butter complexion.
    The Jamiesons were confident Black men
in their professional goals. But their similarities ended when it
came to the opposite sex. Malcolm preferred consistency in a
relationship, dating one woman at a time. Parke lost all his common
sense when it came to women, playing them like a deck of cards. The
search wasn’t a game he played as he looked for the Mrs. Jamieson
to bear Parke K. Jamieson VII.
    “ You and your Miss
Dinkins,” Parke teased, swooping up his keys from a nearby hall
table. He nudged his brother out his door and locked it. “I’ve got
a better idea. How ’bout we take a short run around the hood?
C’mon. You can keep up, can’t ya?”
    Parke leaped off three steps, landing
on the brick walkway of his turn-of-the-nineteenth-century house.
He dashed down the sidewalk for a jumpstart. Malcolm sped by him.
Their jog increased to a marathon race as they passed
chemically-treated green lawns, luscious flowers beds, and elegant
homes. Some houses were too massive to hide behind the aging oaks
and spruces lining Darst Avenue.
    There was no way Malcolm would figure
out Parke’s reasoning for the zigzag route. Two blocks north; two
streets east, a shortcut through a pathway, and then one long block
south to Benton Street. For weeks, it had become a nagging habit to
cruise five blocks in the opposite direction of where he lived
before going home.
    Malcolm stopped and bent down,
panting. “PJ, wait. What’s with the obstacle course? Why are we
going this way? Wabash Park is on the other side.”
    “ Yeah, I know.” Parke
jogged in place. “There’s a house I want to check out.”
    As they stood stretching, a cherry-red
Chrysler convertible slowed down. Two Halle Berry look-alikes
honked the horn, blew kisses, and sped away.
    “ Women, you’ve gotta love
’em,” the brothers said in unison as their hands met in a high
five.
    “ The market isn’t
performing to your expectations? Are you contemplating forsaking
your stocks and bonds for investment property? Smart
move.”
    “ Although all my moves are
deliberate, my interest has nothing to do with financial
investments this time, bro. For a while, I’ve been watching the
progress of a neighborhood eyesore. Man, death almost kissed me as
I drove past that property.”
    “ Death?”
    “ I’m serious. I nearly
broke my neck trying to see if the house sold. When I turned
around, I was face-to-face with oncoming traffic.”
    Malcolm burst out laughing. “It
must’ve been a sight to see you almost ruin your Envoy.”
    Parke shivered at the thought of that
ramshackle house causing his demise and sending his pride and joy
to a body shop. “You know it! Plus—” He veered to another side
street and emerged into a slow trot. “I wanted a glimpse at the
losers who would buy anything to boast an Old Ferguson zip
code.”
    “ Now you’re a nosy
neighbor, huh? I’m glad I’m not worthy of your visits or you’d
snoop on me.”
    As they rounded the corner, Parke
slowed and rested against a tree. Crossing his arms, he stared
across Benton Street. The house in his dream was Cheney’s. He
choked on his own air.
    “ Okay, what’s so
fascinating, or did I wear you out, old man?”
    “ You wish.” Parke pointed.
“Impressive, isn’t it?”
    “ Who ya talkin’ about? The
house or the babe inside?”
    Parke squinted. A rag was tied around
Cheney’s head like Aunt Jemima as she wiped inside a bay window.
“It’s a toss-up.” The previous night, he had seen her rolling pale
blue paint on a bedroom wall.
    “ C’mon, man. Haven’t you
seen enough?” Malcolm shoved him back toward his house. “Who are
you bringing