Desiree Day [Day - One G-String Short of Crazy
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- Book:One G-String Short of Crazy
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- Year:2007
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Good morning, Aisha sang.
Her twin, Felicia, glared at her. Its not a good morning, she practically growled.
Oh, oh! Whats wrong with you, girl?
Work them hips, Felicia muttered, mimicking her sisters lover. Aisha burst out laughing. Its not funny, Isha!
Im sorry. I didnt mean for you to hear us. These walls are too thin.
This is the third time this month that you didnt mean for me to hear you. I havent had a good nights sleep in like forever, Felicia complained. I can barely concentrate at work. Ive turned into a freaking zombie.
Aisha picked at her toast. What are we gonna do? I dont want to give up my men, but I dont want you pissed off at me every morning either.
I dont want you to give up your men but so far this year, youve dated two men named Patrick, three Derricks, four Larrys, three Michaels, two Roberts, one Lorenzo, three Phillips and two Miguels.
I guess I like variety, Aisha laughed.
I dont think so. It means that your ass slept with half of Atlanta, Felicia retorted.
The twins were quiet as they ate their breakfast. Felicia broke the silence. You know, I think we should get separate places.
Aishas fork dropped to her plate with a loud clanking sound.
ALSO BY DESIREE DAY
Crazy Love
Cruising
Pocket Books, a Division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2007 by Desiree Day
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
First Pocket Books trade paperback edition October 2007
POCKET and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
For information regarding special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Simon & Schuster Special Sales at 1-800-456-6798 or business@simonandschuster.com
Designed by Jamie Kerner-Scott
Manufactured in the United States of America
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available
ISBN-13: 978-1-4165-4316-9
ISBN-10: 1-4165-4316-3
ISBN-13: 978-1-4165-4316-9
eISBN-13: 978-1-4165-5327-4
To the love of my life, Hamilton.
A million thanks to my editor, Megan McKeever. I truly value your input; youre very insightful.
A special thank-you to my agent, Bob DiForio, for his continued support.
Thank you, Sarah Wright, for your awesome copyediting skills.
XOXOs to my family and friends. I am truly grateful for your constant encouragement.
And lastly my readers, thanks yall. Ive written the same thing in the last two acknowledgments and I still believe it. You guys are phenomenal!!!
Enjoy!!!
Oh shit!
Oh, Miguel!
Work those hips, girl!
Theyre working overtime for you, baby.
Ima slap that ass!
Slap it hard!
Ooh, make it bounce, baby!
Nu-uh. You make it bounce for me!
Im bouncing, baby! Im bouncing!
The sounds snatched Felicia Goodman out of a deep sleep. Her eyes snapped open as though unhinged. Anger built and worked its way up her spine with every grunt, moan and groan that seeped into her room until she went as rigid as a pole. The paper-thin walls muffled nothing. Not again, she sighed before pulling her pillow over her head. But the sounds trickled through her down pillow and into her ears. Cursing, she tossed the pillow to the floor and glanced at the alarm clock.
Two oclock in the morning. Damn her! Im going to kick her ass, she vowed, before burrowing her head under the covers, then clamping her hands over her ears. Thirty minutes later she drifted off into a restless sleep.
The next morning Felicia dragged herself into the kitchen. Circles the color of rotten apples stained the area under her eyes. The lack of sleep made her look like a half-dead raccoon.
Her fraternal twin sister, her business partner, her roommate of twenty-eight years and her best friend, Aisha, was already at the table picking at two slabs of burnt toast and looking like she had just spent a weekend at a spa. Her creamy chocolate-hued skin glowed and her eyes sparkled. Good morning, Aisha sang.
Felicia glared at her, then, Its not a good morning. As a matter of fact, its a horrible morning, she practically growled.
Uh-oh! Whats wrong with you, girl?
Work them hips. Ima slap that ass, Felicia muttered, mimicking her sisters lover. Aisha burst out laughing. Its not funny,Isha!
Im sorry. I didnt mean for you to hear us. I thought we were being quiet. I did! she insisted at seeing her sister shaking her head with disgust. These walls are too thin.
Felicia regarded her sister. All their friends had teasingly dubbed them the Goodman Siamese twins, because they were always together, and if they werent in the same room they were on the phone with each other. They had the same body shape, the one all the Goodman women had. Barely seeing five foot one and with enough curves to make Tyra Banks jealous.
Felicias shoulder-length hair was pulled into a haphazard ponytail and Aishas hair was a tousled mess on her head, reminding Felicia of a birds nest. Felicia was the color of toasted white bread and Aisha was the color of lush dark chocolate. This is the third time this month that you didnt mean for me to hear you. You know the walls are about as thin as a Kotex pad, Felicia finally answered. How come you never go over to Miguels place?
Even when they were freshmen at Howard, Aisha had more men parading in and out their room than a casting director for a hip-hop video. And that behavior had carried over to every apartment theyd shared.
I guess I could go over to his place, but he said that he liked my bed.
Yeah, because your ass is in it, Felicia snorted. She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of eggs, cheese, chopped ham, tomatoes, mushrooms and green onions. Where is he anyway? She stood on tiptoes as she peered into the cabinet for a bowl, and when she found one big enough she placed it on the table. Aisha glanced at her rock-hard toast, then hungrily eyed the items.
He left. He grumbled something about working out.
He still needs a workout? Felicia asked, her voice rising with incredulity. It sounded like he worked out four times last night. She reached under the sink for a skillet, quickly cleaned it before coating it with oil, set it on the stove, then turned the burner on low.
I wish. It was only three, Aisha corrected her sister.
Whatevah, girl! This is bananas. I havent had a good nights sleep in like forever, Felicia complained as she cracked four eggs into the bowl and began whipping them until they were as fluffy as clouds. I can barely concentrate at work. Ive turned into a freaking zombie.
Stop exaggerating. Its not that bad.
Yeah, it is, Felicia argued. I was catering a job yesterday and I was so tired that I was tempted to use my red velvet cake as a pillow. I love you, girl, and weve been hugged up together since we were in Mommas stomach, but this cant continue. She poured the egg mixture into the pan, then tilted it until the egg mixture firmed before expertly flipping it. As soon as the batter looked like a yellow Frisbee, she sprinkled on the tomatoes, green onions, ham, mushrooms and cheese, then she folded the eggs, nestling the goodies inside. Aishas stomach growled and her mouth watered as the aroma wafted through the kitchen. Felicia slid the omelet onto her plate.
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