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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  PROLOGUE - Once Upon a Time

  CHAPTER ONE - The Truth Hurts

  CHAPTER TWO - Beneath the Surface

  CHAPTER THREE - Time for a Change

  CHAPTER FOUR - Starting Over

  CHAPTER FIVE - Just Like Old Times

  CHAPTER SIX - All or Nothing

  CHAPTER SEVEN - If It Don’t Fit, Don’t Force It

  CHAPTER EIGHT - Sticks and Stones

  CHAPTER NINE - Misery Loves Company

  CHAPTER TEN - Friend or Foe?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN - The Second Time Around

  CHAPTER TWELVE - Georgia on My Mind

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN - Showtime

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN - A Rainy Night in Georgia

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN - Day of Reckoning

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN - The Prognosis

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - Clean Slates

  EPILOGUE - Life After Death …

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Also by Tracy Brown

  Copyright Page

  For my daughter, Ashley.

  A daughter is a little girl who grows up to be a friend.

  Though our roles as parent and child are clearly defined, we also share a friendship that has been forged out of disappointments, triumphs, heartbreak, and many lessons learned together.

  We teach each other, encourage and inspire each other, and we pick each other up when we fall.

  I want you to know that I love you, I admire you, and I am so very proud of the young lady I am watching you become. Sometimes, while we try to teach our children all about life, our children teach us what life is all about. Thank you. This novel is dedicated to you.

  PROLOGUE

  Once Upon a Time

  Brooklyn, 2003

  Celeste was distraught. The firefighters bravely battled the blaze as thick smoke hovered in the night air. Her beloved hair salon, Dime Piece, stood in smoldering ruins. Celeste wanted to cry in anguish and scream in triumph at the same time. She sweated from the intense heat at the scene and from the wide range of emotions stirring through her body. She now wondered if torching her shop had been the right thing to do after all.

  Celeste was fed up with the life she was living. She was tired of being her man’s mistress, sick of a life shrouded in secrecy and drama. For a long time she had been looking for a way out. And setting her beloved business on fire had seemed like a perfect way out. She could get the insurance money, pay her bills, and take the rest of the dough and get the hell out of Rah-lo’s life for good.

  Once she’d sent her salon up in smoke, Celeste had headed home for the night, preparing herself for the moment when someone would call her with the news that Dime Piece had burned down. She anticipated that it would take hours for anyone to notice the smoke and flames and report the fire. After all, she had only set a small fire in the back by the hair dryers. She estimated that it would take a while for it to spread across the entire salon. But she had gotten a call on her cell phone only minutes after she had closed up shop for the night and gone home. As she headed back home to Staten Island after putting her plan in motion, the ride had been smooth on her way to the Verrazano Bridge. She had put in the new Jay-Z CD, had the window cracked, and was feeling good about the decision she’d made. It was about time that she got some closure on what was a stressful chapter in her life. But just as she neared the entrance to the bridge, her cell phone had rung and she’d answered it. It was Sean from the barbershop across the street, calling to tell her that Dime Piece was in flames. He could see the fire from the front of his shop. Sean told her that he had already called 911 and they were on their way. Celeste had hung up and frantically turned back around, her heart thundering in her chest the whole time.

  She went over it in her head. Had she left any clue about what she’d done? Did she leave anything incriminating behind? Had anyone seen her? She retraced her steps in her head and couldn’t think of anything she’d done wrong. She had started a small fire in the back of the shop, careful not to use too much accelerant so that the fire wouldn’t appear to be suspicious. Then she had shut off all the lights and locked up. How could the fire have spread so fast? When she arrived, the firemen were already on the scene. The neighboring stores had spilled out and the street was lined with spectators watching Celeste’s dream go up in flames. She spoke with the fire chief and explained that it was her salon. After assuring him that she hadn’t left any hot curling irons on and that there were no electrical problems with any of the wiring, Celeste began to frantically call her man, Rah-lo. Again and again she called him, each time her call going straight to voice mail. She sighed, disgusted that he was always so unavailable whenever she needed him. This was a typical situation with her in need and Rah-lo occupied elsewhere. Frustrated and in need of some comfort, she called Rah-lo’s friend Ishmael, who had become a very dear friend of hers as well. Ishmael had answered immediately, unlike her man, and assured her that he was on his way. Now, as she stood in front of the salon, feeling weak from the second thoughts she now had about ruining her business, Ishmael stepped on the scene and took it all in.

  “Damn, Celeste,” he said, shaking his head as the fire ravaged the building before him. “How did this happen?”

  She shook her head, both to signal that she had no idea how this had happened and to try to keep her tears at bay. “They said it looks suspicious. Somebody set my shit on fire, Ishmael.” Her eyes were welling up so much that tears blurred her vision. Ishmael saw her and put his arms around her to console her. Celeste began to sob a little. She was scared to death that she would be found out. What if they figured out that she did it? Celeste told herself that she wouldn’t be found out. The list of possible suspects grew longer the more she thought about it. Any one of her former stylists had a motive to destroy Dime Piece, as well as Rah-lo’s wife. Celeste told herself to relax and tried to mentally convince herself that everything would be all right.

  Ishmael held her tight. He was happy to be there for her but frustrated that she still wasn’t fed up with her man. Rah-lo was never around when she needed him. At times like this, it was always Ishmael who held her together, and he was happy to do it. He wished he could be the one she depended on all the time. But her love and loyalty for Rah-lo stood in Ishmael’s way. “You still willing to be second runner-up? Where’s your man, Celeste?”

  She was pissed. Here she was dealing with the realization that her hair salon was burning to the ground right before her eyes and her “friend” was rubbing salt in her wounds! “What the fuck, Ishmael?” she said in exasperation. “How do you sound right now? We both know that I should walk away. But I can’t!”

  Ishmael felt bad. Maybe this wasn’t the right time to remind Celeste that she was only Rah-lo’s mistress. Ishmael thought about why his friend wasn’t here with the woman he claimed to love. Rah-lo was probably at home with his wife, not even realizing that Celeste needed him. In Ishmael’s opinion, Celeste deserved better than that. She deserved to be some lucky man’s wife, not just a mistress. In fact, Ishmael wished that somehow she could be his wife. But Rah-lo had met her first. And Rah-lo was Ishmael’s friend. He had to respect that.

  As he stood there with Celeste in his arms, Ishmael tried to think of something reassuring that he could say to her, but the words didn’t come. As he struggled to think of a way to make her feel better, Rah-lo appeared out of nowhere. Ishmael had been so comfortable holding Celeste that he hadn’t even seen her man approaching them. Rah-lo stared at Ishmael with his jaw clenched, his eyes piercing right through his friend. Ishmael sensed Rah-lo’s disapproval and stepped away from the embrace. Celeste also noticed Rah-lo’s annoyance. She stood back, feeling guilty, and quickly tried to fill the awkward silence.

  “My shop is go
ne, Rah-lo. They said somebody burned my shit down.” A tear fell from her eye and Rah-lo quickly wiped it away for her. Her heart raced nervously.

  “Don’t cry, mama. You got insurance on this place. You can rebuild it if you want to.” Rah-lo hugged Celeste, eyeing Ishmael the whole time. Rah-lo hoped his friend knew that he loved Celeste and would kill over her. But then he felt guilty for having doubts about his friend. Ishmael had been his friend since they were kids. He wouldn’t do that to Rah-lo. He brushed off his suspicion, and Ishmael gave the two of them his condolences for the loss of the salon. He said good-bye, and Rah-lo watched Ishmael get into his truck and pull away.

  Across the street from where Rah-lo and Celeste stood, Charly Hanson smiled a devilish grin. Things couldn’t have worked out better! She had noticed the exchange between Ishmael and Celeste and thought they looked awfully cozy together. Charly had long suspected that there was more between Ishmael and Celeste than mere friendship. Now it seemed that Rah-lo was beginning to feel the same way. Charly noticed the look on Rah-lo’s face—serious and suspicious of his so-called friend. She couldn’t have been more pleased. It was about time that Celeste got what she deserved, and losing Rah-lo was exactly what she deserved.

  Rah-lo stood looking down at Celeste. He told himself that she wouldn’t betray him by fucking with his best friend. But Rah-lo still hated the closeness between her and Ishmael. He hated that, once again, Ishmael had beaten him to Celeste’s side when she was in the midst of a crisis. Rah-lo had been focused on his paper chase, and on top of that his wife was giving him hell at home. But he still did his best to make it clear to Celeste that she was a priority to him every day, no matter how complex and hectic things were. He had been at home with his wife and his three daughters when he got Celeste’s urgent message. He had raced to her side only to find her looking too comfortable in Ishmael’s arms.

  Rah-lo saw the tears in Celeste’s eyes as she watched Dime Piece go up in smoke. That salon had been a gift from him to her, and she had turned it into a big success. The business was a venue for plenty of drama—from the stylists’ constant bickering to a break-in and attempted rape. Celeste had had her share of difficulties trying to keep things afloat. But for her it was all a dream come true. She had a business all her own. Even though Rah-lo financed it, she was the one who’d had the vision and had made it a success. Now the shop was destroyed, and she looked heartbroken.

  “Baby, don’t worry,” he said, his tone reassuring. “You can open up a new shop. Whatever you want to do, I’ll make it happen.” Celeste kept staring straight ahead as the flames ravaged her salon. Rah-lo pulled her close to him and held her tightly. “It’s okay, baby girl. You know this shit is just a temporary setback.” He stroked her back. “We’ll find out who did this and I swear I’ll make them pay for it. You’ll see. We’ll build you something bigger and better, ma. I promise.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to rebuild it,” she said.

  Rah-lo stepped back, slightly surprised. “Why not?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe this is some kind of sign that it wasn’t meant to be.” Unbeknownst to Rah-lo, Celeste wasn’t just referring to the hair salon. She was also referring to her role in Rah-lo’s life. She was beginning to want out, and this was the start of her dramatic exit from his life.

  Rah-lo nodded. “I can see why you might feel that way,” he said. He thought back on all the drama and pain that Celeste had dealt with since she opened Dime Piece. First one of Rah-lo’s enemies had tried to rob and rape Celeste—an attack that Ishmael had saved her from and another instance when Rah-lo was unable to run to her rescue. Then there had been the constant arguments and fights between Celeste and her stylists. To add insult to injury, lately Rah-lo’s wife, Asia, had been prank-calling the salon. As he looked at the smoldering ruins, he had to agree with Celeste. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be. He reached out and touched her face gently. “You can have whatever you want, Celeste. A restaurant, a bookstore, a clothing store … you can even open up a funeral parlor if you want.” That made her smile, which was the effect he had wanted. “There’s that smile I love so much.” He kissed her softly. “I mean it,” he said. “Whatever you want. I’ll make it happen. Just say the word and it’s yours. You know that. I love you.”

  Celeste hugged him tightly. “I love you, too.” She felt a surge of guilt. She knew that Rah-lo loved her. There was no question in her mind about that. She knew that he meant what he said. All she had to do was tell him what she wanted and Rah-lo would stop at nothing to get it for her. Regardless of his marriage and his children, she knew that Rah-lo loved her. And she loved him back. She was just sick and tired of being second in line. Celeste lived in a large home Rah-lo owned on Staten Island. The house was in a very upscale neighborhood amid beautiful views of what had been the classic New York City skyline before the World Trade Center was destroyed. His wife, Asia, knew nothing about this house. And until recently, she had not even known about Celeste.

  For years he and Celeste had maintained a low-key relationship behind Asia’s back. They didn’t travel in the same circles and Celeste loved Rah-lo and had been content to play her position in his life as the other woman. But that lifestyle was getting tiresome for her. She was tired of having to share Rah-lo’s time and having to share his heart. And when Rah-lo’s secret house was raided and Rah-lo and Celeste were arrested together, their secret was out. Asia found out about the other woman in her husband’s life, and she was livid.

  The drama Rah-lo was enduring at home and Celeste’s increasing unhappiness were enough to make him crazy. Both of the women in his life were giving him grief. But his main concern was Celeste. She was the one he was in love with. Asia was his wife and the mother of his three daughters. They had been together for years and they had learned to accept the mutual loss of interest in their marriage. Rah-lo was used to (but still hated) Asia’s confrontational and ghetto-fabulous personality. He hadn’t been in love with her for a long time. His daughters were what kept him in his marriage. He wanted for them what he hadn’t had for himself—a two-parent household, structure, and stability. Asia was just part of that package.

  But Rah-lo wasn’t worried about Asia right now. He looked at Celeste and could tell that she was devastated. When the fire was completely extinguished, he helped her sift through the rubble to see if anything was salvageable. Unfortunately, everything had been destroyed. He drove Celeste home and spent the night by her side, holding her and comforting her the best way he could. He knew that Asia would be livid that he had spent the night out again. But he didn’t give a fuck. Celeste needed him and he was determined to stay by her side that night no matter how much grief it caused him at home.

  “Celeste,” he said, lying beside her in bed with his arms wrapped securely around her thin frame. “What can I do to make this better?”

  She sighed. “I just want to get away from all this shit, Rah-lo. I want to live without all the constant drama, all the bullshit. But you can’t leave your wife—”

  “Don’t say that,” he interrupted. “I can leave Asia. And I will leave Asia. I just have to make sure that my kids are old enough to understand that I’m not leaving them, too. It’s not about Asia. As far as I’m concerned, you are my wife.”

  She shook her head. “But I’m not.”

  “Not yet.” He kissed her, silencing her. His hands wandered to all of her hot spots, and Celeste acquiesced.

  As she lay beside him, Celeste knew that there was no turning back now. She had started the process of withdrawing from Rah-lo. As they made love she reminded herself that no matter how perfect it felt, Rah-lo’s sex wasn’t hers alone. His sweet words and strong hands weren’t hers alone. He was married to another woman, and Celeste was finally determined to walk away.

  That night, as he lay beside her, Rah-lo watched Celeste sleep. He loved her so intensely that he wished he could protect her always. It killed him to think of her hurting in any way. As she snored ever so softly, he
stroked her hair. Rah-lo wondered who had burned her shop down. In his heart of hearts he believed that Asia may have had something to do with it. Now that she knew about Celeste, Asia was borderline obsessed with getting revenge against her husband’s mistress. He knew that Asia hadn’t done it personally. After all, he had been at home with her and his daughters when he got Celeste’s urgent messages. But he wondered if Asia had arranged to have Dime Piece destroyed. To Rah-lo it didn’t matter. No matter what Asia did, nothing would come between him and Celeste. He wouldn’t let it.

  His thoughts drifted to Ishmael. Rah-lo wondered why he felt so jealous of Ishmael’s friendship with Celeste. He believed that neither of them would ever cross that line and take their friendship further. Still, it killed him to think that any man—especially his best friend—had eyes for the woman he loved. Rah-lo was insanely jealous over her and would kill to keep her all to himself. As he drifted off to sleep he wondered if she had any idea just how much he loved her.

  As the next several weeks passed, Celeste secretly began to pack her things. She got the insurance money and knew that this was her ticket to freedom. On a warm and sunny Sunday afternoon, Rah-lo walked into the house, hoping to surprise Celeste, and noticed immediately how quiet it was. “Baby girl!” he called out, his voice echoing off the walls. He headed up the stairs, calling her name. He got no response. “Celeste,” he called out, wondering if she could still be asleep. She was typically an early riser. So if she were still asleep at this point in the afternoon it would be quite unusual. When he reached the bedroom, he stopped calling her. He knew immediately that she was gone. All of Celeste’s clothes, shoes, and personal items were gone. The closet was empty except for the hangers. The pictures of the two of them, which had once adorned the nightstands, were also gone. All that remained was the king-sized bed in the center of the room. Celeste had left him.

  Rah-lo’s heart sank. Lately, Celeste had been talking about bowing out of his life. She was tired of being his mistress, and told him that she wasn’t going to wait forever. Her patience had been wearing thin for a long time. The truth was Rah-lo never really thought she would find the courage to leave him. He thought she would wait for as long as he needed her to. He had afforded Celeste a very comfortable lifestyle—money, cars, clothes, trips, and expensive gifts. He had housed her in a lovely home with all the amenities any woman would wish for. He thought it was enough to keep her waiting contently. And now he realized how wrong he was.