Read Online Sinful by Victor McGlothin - Free Book Online Page B

living on pimp steak. Girl, we’re going to the Galleria.”

7
Two Kinds of Crazy
    â€œI am so blessed to have Marvin,” Chandelle admitted fondly, while patrolling the mall parking lot for an available space not too far from the entrance. “It’s still hard to do what I’m supposed to, though. It’s like they say, I shop, therefore I am.” She glanced at Dior, who was frowning curiously.
    â€œI saw that on a swap meet T-shirt before,” she said, with her lips pursed momentarily. “Almost copped one, too, but it sounded like something a white chick would flow with so I put it back.”
    â€œUh-uh, white women don’t have a lock on blowing money. That’s always an equal-opportunity situation. Oh, here’s a good spot.” Chandelle guided her car in and killed the engine. She turned toward her cousin and glared.
    â€œWhat?” Dior said with the same curious frown as before.
    â€œDon’t what me. I want you to be on your best behavior in there,” Chandelle demanded. “Not that you would, but I don’t need to get jammed up behind some stolen goods misunderstanding, and I’m certainly not in the mood to watch you try and urinate your way out of a shoplifting beef.”
    â€œChandelle, I wouldn’t do that to you,” she answered, lowering her head in shame. “Anyways, I ain’t even got to pee. Let’s go.” Dior hopped out of the car like it was on fire. “Hurr’ up, cuz, the quicker we can shake you loose from that funky coat, the quicker we can scout around for sales.”
    â€œI thought you couldn’t make rent,” Chandelle asked, as they stepped inside the entrance doors.
    â€œI can’t, but what does that have to do with anything?” Dior reasoned, despite her bleak financial predicament. “I left one of my favorite dresses at the apartment. Might not get it back after they find that window I smashed.”
    â€œAnd if you had taken care of business like I suggested, instead of dashing over to Kevlin’s, you might not be in this mess,” Chandelle told her. “Why don’t you like normal men who want to treat you right?”
    Dior’s impulsive and sometimes carefree attitude was legendary. She had no use for normal men who actually were interested in working on more than merely perfecting various sexual positions. Dior craved drama and men who could deliver it by the bus load. Pure and simple, she was known in certain circles as a jump off , the kind of woman who committed men often kept on the side for quick hits and cheap tricks. While stumbling through life and searching for her place in it, Dior had grown accustomed to being the other woman. She preferred things that way. Her biggest weakness was a yearning to acquire without exerting the effort and energy required to do it honestly. After she continually managed to come up short, the same questions traced her lips: Why does it take the wrong men a hot minute to love me while the right ones never seem to want to?
    â€œI don’t have time to sort through normal brothas trying to figure out why they don’t already have a woman and what they did to chase the last one off. And I don’t have room in my life for misfits. One’s plenty, and I’m it.”
    Inside of the glassed-in elevator, Chandelle pushed the button going up. She allowed Dior’s flawed logic to play around in her head until she became dizzy. “Your way of thinking missed me. It almost sounds like you couldn’t be interested in a man unless he has at least one woman in his life to start.”
    â€œAt least one,” she answered matter-of-factly. “Take Marvin, for instance. My friends think he’s so cute, but they love the fact that he has a real pretty wife. Don’t ask me, but that’s the way it is, coming from where I’m from. His stock went way up when he married you.”
    â€œDior,