Page 62 of Labria

I walked over to him and fell into his embrace. He was wearing cologne. I got a whiff of it. He’s flying out at night. Meetings would take place in the daytime, as far as I could tell.

Lord kissed my forehead. He pulled away to kiss me on the lips with the same passion as when we first met. This is love. I really loved him. After smacking me on my ass, he lifted his suitcase off the wooden trunk and he was out of the door.

I was hesitant to snoop. For a clean fifteen minutes, I checked my work email. There was a staff meeting early Monday morning.

It took me fifteen more minutes to check my cell for Lord’s location. He was nowhere near McCarran airport. I told myself that he was swinging back to pick up someone for the flight. That explanation could’ve worked if his location didn’t come up as a restaurant. With very little sleuthing on my part, I found Lord at Carlito’s Authentic Italian Cuisine. A place Lord had never taken me to.

If I thought too hard, I would chicken out. I took off of my blouse and skirt. I put on a hoodie and blue jeans. I slipped into a pair of gym shoes and paired it with a baseball cap. I grabbed my purse and my car keys and went straight to the garage. I had a brand new Mercedes C 43 I hardly ever drove, a gift from Lord that came right before my fuchsia Hermès Birkin bag. I was going to pull up tonight incognito.

I couldn’t believe I had stooped this low. I was spying on him and I was in a disguise. I had really reached an all-time low. Chasing behind a man that was lying to me again. How many lies? I’d lost count. The things we do for love.

It didn’t matter. I needed to see this with my own two eyes. I needed to see this nighttime business meeting up close. I only suspected Lolita LaGrassa, but she lived in New York. Maybe I missed something and there was more than one woman.

I was hoping for the best, but still gripping the steering wheel tightly. The GPS led me to Carlito’s. When I arrived at the restaurant, there was a parking lot on the side of the building. I pulled in through the back alley and parked in the back of the lot. With my lights and ignition off, I was hidden by the huge SUV beside me. I sat there like I was on a stakeout. I didn’t have a plan.

I recognized Lord’s bulletproof Bentley parked in a reserved spot the first time I drove by. I didn’t have the strength to go inside the restaurant. I thought about ordering some food to go just so I’d have a reason to walk inside. I nixed that idea, afraid his security would recognize me. I thought about sending him a text message just to see if he responded, but I didn’t.

I had a direct view of his black Bentley. I sat in my driver’s seat for an hour like boo-boo the fool. I was contemplating leaving when finally Lord walked out of the restaurant with a woman stuck to his arm. They were arm and arm, walking together. I couldn’t clearly make out her face or hear the conversation. From this distance, the closeness made it clear they were a thing. Did he take her here all the time?

My body was frozen behind the steering wheel as I witnessed this public display of cheating. I watched as one of the security guards opened the rear driver’s door for the floosy as Lord held her hand and ushered her into his Bentley.

A barrage of expletives ran through my mind. There was no guarantee this woman was Lolita LaGrassa, but I didn’t have any proof it wasn’t her. I watched the Bentley drive out of the parking lot and onto the desolate street. I didn’t move here for this. I moved here for a future with the man I loved.

Fuck!

The tears started rolling as soon as I pulled out of the parking lot of Carlito’s. He was too comfy and cozy with this woman. There was no other explanation for this. He was supposed to be on a plane to New York.

The ride back to the house was a blur. I was so mad I had to calm myself down. I paced back and forth in the bedroom a few times before I grabbed a suitcase and tossed it on the antique trunk near the window. I took a deep breath; the deepest I’d ever took in my life. My chest felt heavy with rage, pain, and acrimony. I closed my eyes and opened them slowly. I might break but I will not be broken.

Clothes. I needed panties and bras. I needed a few pairs of shoes and a business suit for my meeting on Monday morning. I also needed to pack maybe a few dresses and a blazer. I removed my garments from their hangers and folded them neatly into my suitcase. Stockings, socks, pajamas. I didn’t want to forget anything.

Whatever hotel I picked would have shampoo and conditioner. I scurried to the bathroom for my curling iron. I had a pre-packed clear bag that held the toiletries I took back to Chicago when I visited.

I grabbed the carryon bag that matched my suitcase and placed my MacBook inside with a few pieces of jewelry. I dashed back into the bathroom to gather up some of my makeup. Tossing the items in my makeup bag, I walked back into the bedroom and placed them in my carryon.

In record time, I was all packed up. I wanted to claw Lord’s blue eyeballs out of the sockets, but I was too old to get violent. I had never fought for or over a man in my life, and that wasn’t going to happen today, tomorrow, or in any future.

I couldn’t help myself. I had to do something to strike back at this cheating, lying bastard. I opened the top drawer underneath my side of the double sink. I reached into the drawer and grabbed a tube of bright red lipstick. Nope, the tube was Fenty Beauty MVP icon lipstick. Lord didn’t deserve to have me use my Fenty on him. I placed the lipstick on the sink. I dove back into the drawer, moving things around until I landed on a Mac Cosmetics lipstick. I flipped the black tube to read the bottom, “Whirl”. Not good enough. I tossed it back in the drawer. I grabbed another black tube out of the drawer, Impulsive.

Oh baby, Impulsive was how I was feeling, but the lip color was too pinkish nude. That’s a no for medawg. I tossed it back in the drawer and picked another black tube of lip color. I read the bottom. This was it. Ruby Woo, the best red lip color Mac had to offer. It was definitely better than Russian Red. I removed the top and twisted the tube so the crimson color elevated out of the tube.

What was I going to write in red lipstick on this bathroom mirror to this sorry motherfucka?

FUCK YOU BITCH! Nah, that was too ghetto.

I needed something a little more cutthroat, since he’s this mafia underboss now.

GO SWIM WITH THE FISHES! Oh, hell no. That’s corny and sounds like it came from an old mobster movie.

EAT SHIT AND DIE! That sentence was way too Caucasian to say out loud, especially out of my mouth. I knew I could do better than that.

LYING CHEATING BASTARD! It fit. He was a liar. He was a cheater, and he was the definition of a two-faced bastard. He didn’t even know his whore father his entire life. Fatherless child equaled bastard, so that’s pretty accurate.

I leaned over the center of the double sinks. In huge capital letters, I wrote.

YOU LYING CHEATING BASTARD!

And underneath those glorious words I wrote. FUCK YOU!

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