Read Online Pink & Patent Leather by Candy Jackson - Free Book Online
Authors: Candy Jackson
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“Sister Pink, I know you weren’t expecting company, but maybe you should go and cover up a bit more.”
I glared at her. She was basically an intruder in my house, wearin g some cheap cologne that would take me weeks to dispense of the stench that was sure to seep into my sofa. And now, she was talking to me as if she had a right? And, she was trying to give me etiquette lessons on the proper way I should dress in my home? This lady probably walked around in some thick, flannel robe with bunny slippers. She had no style, she had no class, and she had no business telling me what to do.
Still, I couldn ’t say that I felt comfortable standing there half-naked. Not that I was ashamed of my body in any way, but all of this was for Malik’s eyes only. And as his future wife, I had to be mindful of how I presented myself in front of others.
I gave a little nod. “ Excuse me; I’ll be right back.” I did an about face, and I knew their eyes were on me. So, I added just a little swing in my step—that was meant for both of them.
But once I closed my bedroom door, I wanted to scream. And I did —in my head. That battle-axe! Freakin’ Broomhilda! Damn Fiona! What was she doing here? Why had she come? But the most important question—why had Malik let her come? This was supposed to be our time, Malik knew that. I was tired of waiting and I wanted what was supposed to be mine.
I was fuming as I picked out my pink Victoria ’s Secret jogging suit from my closet. By the time I slipped into my clothes and glanced at myself in the mirror, I had calmed down. I may have been covered up, but with the way these sweat pants hugged my booty, I might as well have been naked. And with the word ‘Pink’ spread from one end of my butt to the other, if I turned around, I knew exactly where Malik’s eyes would be. When I slipped into the jacket, I left it unzipped on purpose. The tiny pink tee I wore was fitted and put my young globes on full display. Now, whether I was coming or going, Malik was going to be one happy man.
I sauntered out of my bedroom, but then stopped shy of the kitchen. I had a great view of that woman snooping through my house! Well, maybe snooping was a strong word, but she was certainly checking out m y possessions.
Malik sat on my sofa with his eyebrows drawn together and his hands clasped. I could tell he didn ’t approve, but he didn’t say anything as his wife picked up my pink Waterford praying hands. I wanted to rush over to her and snatch that precious ornament away from her. It was a one-of-a-kind piece that my father had commissioned from the Waterford company because they hadn’t manufactured any items in pink. But at my father’s request, and I’m sure for a hefty price, he’d had that made for me.
Finally, she returned the ornament to the shelf on my é tagère, then she paused and took notice of my framed degree that hung just above the Victorian glass table my mother had purchased for me as a house-warming gift. When Malik’s wife ran her finger across the ivory china frame that held my diploma, I decided that it was time to put a stop to all of this.
But just before I stepped into the living room, my eyes moved to Malik and that made me pause. He was looking directly at me. I smiled, and he did, too. With my smile still in place, I nodded slightly, and raised one eyebrow as I looked at where his wife was still moving around my home.
He shrugged his shoulders in an apologetic manner and that move made me love him and feel sorry for him at the same tim e. It wasn’t his fault that he had a wife who was so uncoothed. He wouldn’t have to worry about that for long. His next wife had nothing but class.
“ Okay, I’m ready,” I said, finally revealing myself to both of them.
When she turned around, Malik ’s wife took notice of me once again, looking me over just like she’d done before.
“ Let’s sit down,” I said, determined to remain gracious. Even though all I wanted to
I glared at her. She was basically an intruder in my house, wearin g some cheap cologne that would take me weeks to dispense of the stench that was sure to seep into my sofa. And now, she was talking to me as if she had a right? And, she was trying to give me etiquette lessons on the proper way I should dress in my home? This lady probably walked around in some thick, flannel robe with bunny slippers. She had no style, she had no class, and she had no business telling me what to do.
Still, I couldn ’t say that I felt comfortable standing there half-naked. Not that I was ashamed of my body in any way, but all of this was for Malik’s eyes only. And as his future wife, I had to be mindful of how I presented myself in front of others.
I gave a little nod. “ Excuse me; I’ll be right back.” I did an about face, and I knew their eyes were on me. So, I added just a little swing in my step—that was meant for both of them.
But once I closed my bedroom door, I wanted to scream. And I did —in my head. That battle-axe! Freakin’ Broomhilda! Damn Fiona! What was she doing here? Why had she come? But the most important question—why had Malik let her come? This was supposed to be our time, Malik knew that. I was tired of waiting and I wanted what was supposed to be mine.
I was fuming as I picked out my pink Victoria ’s Secret jogging suit from my closet. By the time I slipped into my clothes and glanced at myself in the mirror, I had calmed down. I may have been covered up, but with the way these sweat pants hugged my booty, I might as well have been naked. And with the word ‘Pink’ spread from one end of my butt to the other, if I turned around, I knew exactly where Malik’s eyes would be. When I slipped into the jacket, I left it unzipped on purpose. The tiny pink tee I wore was fitted and put my young globes on full display. Now, whether I was coming or going, Malik was going to be one happy man.
I sauntered out of my bedroom, but then stopped shy of the kitchen. I had a great view of that woman snooping through my house! Well, maybe snooping was a strong word, but she was certainly checking out m y possessions.
Malik sat on my sofa with his eyebrows drawn together and his hands clasped. I could tell he didn ’t approve, but he didn’t say anything as his wife picked up my pink Waterford praying hands. I wanted to rush over to her and snatch that precious ornament away from her. It was a one-of-a-kind piece that my father had commissioned from the Waterford company because they hadn’t manufactured any items in pink. But at my father’s request, and I’m sure for a hefty price, he’d had that made for me.
Finally, she returned the ornament to the shelf on my é tagère, then she paused and took notice of my framed degree that hung just above the Victorian glass table my mother had purchased for me as a house-warming gift. When Malik’s wife ran her finger across the ivory china frame that held my diploma, I decided that it was time to put a stop to all of this.
But just before I stepped into the living room, my eyes moved to Malik and that made me pause. He was looking directly at me. I smiled, and he did, too. With my smile still in place, I nodded slightly, and raised one eyebrow as I looked at where his wife was still moving around my home.
He shrugged his shoulders in an apologetic manner and that move made me love him and feel sorry for him at the same tim e. It wasn’t his fault that he had a wife who was so uncoothed. He wouldn’t have to worry about that for long. His next wife had nothing but class.
“ Okay, I’m ready,” I said, finally revealing myself to both of them.
When she turned around, Malik ’s wife took notice of me once again, looking me over just like she’d done before.
“ Let’s sit down,” I said, determined to remain gracious. Even though all I wanted to
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