Hold Me in Contempt by Wendy Williams

Hold Me in Contempt by Wendy Williams

Author:Wendy Williams
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780062268433
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2014-03-15T04:00:00+00:00


Chapter 9

I was sitting in the backseat of the dollar cab for ten minutes before I realized it was the same Indian driver who had taken me to King’s house. When Kent pulled off on his motorcycle, the cab showed up seemingly from nowhere. I told him my address after he’d started driving.

“I know you,” I said just a few blocks from my house.

“Yes, miss. I am Baboo.”

I sat back perplexed for a minute, deciphering the pattern in his colorful, gold-tubed turban that made him look too regal to be sitting in the front seat of a squalid New York City dollar cab. There was no permit posted on the dashboard. Just little bottles of dried-out air freshener and pictures of a little boy and woman with long black hair taped to the glove compartment. What sounded like Indian pop music played a little too loudly on the radio.

“You know him?” I asked vaguely, looking out the window.

“Yes.”

“Really?” I sniggered, uncomfortable but sort of charmed at the thought that maybe King had sent Baboo to come get me. Then I asked, “Did he send you there tonight? To get me?”

Baboo nodded.

“Okay. So he knows where I was tonight? Where I am?” Suddenly, every image I saw outside the window in the night looked like a spy, someone watching my movements. I didn’t know if I should feel stalked, but mostly I was intrigued. Who was this man of such mystery and power? I felt myself blush, my chest heat up. It was the unmistakable feeling of being made special.

Baboo didn’t answer my other questions.

“Okay, you can’t say anything, I guess. Makes sense.” I watched spies outside watching me. Wondered where King was in the crowd crossing the street. The car beside us? I turned to look for the silver Bentley. “Well, you can tell him that I don’t need any cab rides from him. And I don’t need you following me around. That’s actually kind of creepy. You got that?”

He nodded again but I could tell he was smiling.

“Yes. You tell him all of that. And make sure you add that I’m very sorry but I’m not interested in him.” I poked my nose into the air like a woman who was offended. King had called and texted me a few times. I didn’t respond. I’d meant what I’d said to Tamika. Our night together was all that, but it was just a night. Just a one-night swirl. I mean, what else could it be? I deleted his number, erased my call log and his messages.

“Yes. Will do,” Baboo said.

The car stopped outside my apartment.

Pier, the doorman, approached the car to open my door. I looked up at the building, so many flights up to my floor, to my dark apartment, curtains drawn and no one inside. I remembered King’s kisses up my spine.

“No!” I said impulsively, holding the car door closed before Pier got his gloved hand on the handle. “Wait one minute!”

Baboo turned to me.

“Can you contact him?” I asked quickly.



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