Take Her Man

3. Drive drunk, because that’s just dumb.

Warning: Sipping these drinks might cause you to have a good time. Don’t serve to lame asses and people you don’t like.

The City Girl Martini

Ingredients:

1 part cranberry vodka

1 part orange liqueur

1 part sloe gin

1 splash sour mix

1 splash apple-cranberry juice

1 splash of orange juice

Directions: Mix equal parts of liquors and a splash of each juice.

The Plan

“I can’t believe that motherfucker’s with that bitch,” Tasha said angrily. It was exactly what I was thinking, but at that point I was too upset to say a word. We were all sitting in Tamia’s car in front of Justin’s. Tasha had convinced the manager to open the kitchen exit so we could get out without walking past Miata and Julian. Though I wanted so badly to approach them, Tamia and Tasha convinced me that it would be a bad idea to confront them in the restaurant. After climbing out from under the table, I moonwalked the entire way to the kitchen, watching their every move. Julian slid his arms around her shoulders and pulled her head into his chest. He kissed her on the cheek and whispered something in her ear. It looked like he said, “Mrs. James.”

With every moment that passed, as I maneuvered my way around each table, my heart broke a little bit more. I wanted to scream, jump on top of the bar, and demand that Julian come home with me. Not her. Not the girl named after a car.

“Tasha, calm down. You’re only making things worse saying things like that,” Tamia said, looking at Tasha behind me in the backseat. “I knew it was a bad idea to come here. Are you okay, Troy?”

“I can’t believe this. Why her? Why here?” I looked out of the passenger-side window and shook my head. “I don’t understand. One minute everything’s perfect, then he just dumps me. Now he’s here with her? This shit is crazy.”

“I know it doesn’t make sense. But you’ve got to move on. That’s what breaking up is all about.” Tamia put her hand on my shoulder. I could hear some old Luther Vandross song playing in a car passing by. I wanted to jump out of the car and roll around in the street, screaming Julian’s name out loud. It was dramatic and it wouldn’t make me feel better, but at least then people could see my pain. I got played by a man I thought was going to marry me. “You have to move on,” Tamia went on over Luther. “And I know it’s kind of harsh, but clearly Julian has.”

“Bullshit,” Tasha said from the backseat. I could tell she was a little intoxicated from the excess of sass in her voice.

“What?” Tamia turned to her.

“That’s bullshit, what you said, Tamia. Something else is going on.” I could see Tasha’s hands moving around in my side mirror. She was getting riled up and ready to fight. While Tamia was always trying to see the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, the good in mankind, Tasha was the drama queen of controversy. If you needed to find out if your man was cheating, if your boss was stealing money from the company, if you were lying to your damn self, Tasha was on the job. She trusted no one and she could smell a dubious dilemma like doo-doo on a shoe. When we first met, Tamia and I wondered where Tasha got all of her street savvy. The girl could curse better than a sailor and I once saw her jimmy a lock faster than anything I’d ever seen on MacGyver. Apparently, her 90210 existence wasn’t as “totally awesome” as her mother’s career choice promised. When Tasha grew tired of sitting in hotel rooms and playing cards with her nanny, she slipped out to the streets to play gangster girl to get even with Porsche. From stealing clothes she easily could afford, to hanging out with boys that might have been featured on America’s Most Wanted, Tasha said it felt good to be out in the street doing things that could get her killed or at least force Porsche to have to come to the police precinct to bail her out.

“What do you think’s going on?” I begged, desperate to find out what Tasha was talking about.

“Oh, don’t listen to her ass, Troy. She’s going to turn this into some craziness.” Tamia tried to turn on the engine.

“No, girl.” I put my hand on Tamia’s to stop her from turning the ignition. “I want to know what she thinks.”

“Did you love that man?” Tasha pushed her head into the front of the car like a bobblehead. “Like really love him?”

“Yes, of course.”

“And did he love you?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?” Tasha stressed the last word. “I mean, we all thought Julian loved you, Troy. We really did and you could not have told us any different.”

Tamia nodded her head in agreement.

“But the important thing is,” Tasha went on, “do you think he loved you?”