Full Figured 9 Read online

  Now that Victor was gone, I didn’t have to worry about running into any nurses in the house. I had to admit, that was taking me a little bit of time to adjust to. Victor had been bedridden ever since he had that stroke a few years ago, so I had gotten used to him being in the house. Whenever I wanted to talk to him about things, I would just go to his room, take a chair next to his bed, and we would talk.

  I was sad when he died. He wasn’t my biological father, but he was good to me. All my real dad did was send money every month and send a plane ticket for me to go visit. Victor was the one who went to almost all the games I cheered at, and he always made sure to make time to listen to me when I needed to talk.

  The day of the burial, I felt like shit just thinking about seeing him get put into the ground, so I smoked some crystal and popped a pill before we left. That was a mistake. I had never done the two at the same time, and it made me more emotional than I had expected. I started screaming and crying along with my mother, and the two of us looked like a couple of crazy women. I didn’t know if my mom was being real with the way she was carrying on, but I knew I was. It’s like the drugs made me feel every emotion and magnified the feeling to the point I felt like I would explode if I didn’t let it all out. I cried for Victor, and I think I was crying for myself in there too.

  Surprisingly, Jamela didn’t cry when she saw the casket getting lowered. Come to think of it, I don’t think I saw her cry at all throughout the funeral or burial; that was until Isaac wrapped her in his strong, loving arms. Ugh. Even in my high state, I couldn’t help thinking that a man that fine should have wrapped his arms around someone who looked like me and not Jamela.

  Jamela was another one who had been in and out of the house the last few weeks. I never knew if she was coming or going. What I did know was that she had been spending time with Isaac.

  In fact, I had been listening to Jamela and the mystery man grunting and laughing for the last twenty minutes, and it was driving me up the wall. This guy was hot with a capital H, and instead of being in the living room chilling with me, he was in the sunroom with my fat, dark-skinned sister. That’s exactly why I was sitting on this couch frustrated as hell.

  My stepsister never fixed herself up. She didn’t wear any makeup, usually kept her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, and the most she would ever dress up would be if she wore some granny blouse and pants outfit instead of her usual college hoodie, jeans, and sneakers look. The girl shopped in the women’s section at Macy’s, for God’s sake. I knew because my friends and I had been making fun of her for that since the day we saw her shopping there a while back. So how was it possible that she was getting this guy’s attention over me?

  When he first arrived and I opened the front door, he barely smiled and looked my way when he said hello; but when he saw my stepsister, he was quick to give her a big smile from ear to ear. I was so annoyed hearing them giggle and laugh with each other that I felt like walking over toward them just to curse them out. I couldn’t do that, though, if I was still going to try to get me a piece of that sexy chocolate man.

  “What are you guys doing?” I asked casually as I stood in the entryway of the sunroom.

  “Hi, Brielle,” answered an out-of-breath Jamela. “I’m just getting my workout done. I don’t think I ever officially introduced you to Isaac,” she said as she pointed toward that fine specimen of a man. “Isaac, this is my sister Brielle. Brielle, this is Isaac,” she said before she resumed doing her squats.

  “Hi, Isaac,” I said as I waved at him with a twirl of my fingers.

  “Hello, Brielle,” he said nonchalantly. “It’s nice to officially meet you.”

  “Likewise,” I said as I looked him up and down. This man had perfectly toned arms. He was wearing a cut-off shirt that emphasized his tight abs. His skin looked as smooth as a baby’s booty, and he had little traces of sweat that looked more like baby oil glistening in the sun coming through the windows. Man, I was getting wet just standing there looking at him.

  I must have been staring, because he cleared his throat and gave me a very strange look.

  “Well, it was nice to formally meet you. I have to get back to working out with your sister,” he said and turned back toward Jamela.

  “Okay.” I decided to go back to the living room, where I took out my phone and made a quick Twitter post: Never let anyone stop you from taking what’s yours #Mrs. StealYourMan #Don’tGetMadWhenIGetHim

  “What are you doing?” The sound of my mom’s voice startled me. I put my phone back to its home screen.

  “Hi, Mom. I didn’t know you were home.”

  “I’m home. I’ve just been sleeping all morning. I didn’t get home until late last night. I was very tired when I got in,” she said as she sat on the couch next to me. Just then we both heard Jamela let out a shriek, followed by laughter.

  “What the hell is she doing?” my mom asked with an attitude.

  “She’s working out with Isaac,” I informed her, rolling my eyes and twisting my neck while scrunching my face up.

  My mom laughed. “Why did you say it like that?”

  “Like how?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. You sounded let down. Like you were sad about it.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing I guess.” I tried to shrug it off.

  “It’s not nothing if you sound this down about it. What’s going on, Brielle?” Mom pushed the subject.

  “I guess I’m a little down because I like Isaac, but Jamela keeps interfering,” I said. My mother didn’t need to know all the true details.

  “Jamela?” my mom questioned, twisting her face up like she smelled something foul. “I’d be willing to bet all my handbags that she’s no threat to you. What man in his right mind would want a big, sloppy burger over a New York strip?”

  “That’s what I thought, but apparently Isaac does. I’ve only met him twice, but both times he didn’t even look my way. Well, whenever he tried to, she’d interrupt.” I was lying, but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. I was going to get this man by any means necessary, even if it took my mother’s help. She knew all about roping in the man of her dreams.

  “That sneaky little bitch,” my mom said with venom dripping in her voice. “Well, we will just have to do something about that, won’t we then?” she said as a sinister smile crept across her face.

  Now with my mom on board, I knew it would only be a matter of time before Isaac was mine.

  CHAPTER TEN

  GLENDORA

  I was driving like a maniac toward the drycleaner’s. I overslept this morning and now I was at risk of being late to the attorney’s office. Except for the days I married my first husband and Victor, today was one of the most important days of my life. At two o’clock this afternoon, I was expected in Ivan Chester’s office for the reading of my late husband’s will. I was anxious and excited to hear what the inheritance would be. It had been a long time coming, and I was ready to move into a new phase in my life.

  The three years after his stroke had been nothing but a downhill battle for us, and I’d be lying if I said I was devastated when he died. I was never in love with Victor. I met him at the hospital, saw the opportunity for me to marry into a better lifestyle, and I went for it. Over the years, I grew to have love for Victor. He was a good man to me and my children after all. I know he loved me unconditionally, and he always made sure we were taken care of and were getting the attention we needed. No matter how busy he was at the restaurants he never missed any of Brendon’s games or Brielle’s cheerleading events. He even managed to spend time with that good-for-nothing daughter of his, even though I tried so hard to keep them apart.

  After he became completely disabled, though, I personally thought he would’ve been better off dying. Who wants to live a life lying in bed and moping around the house sick all the time? I could never do that. I was a busybody. When I stopped working at the hospital I kept myself busy. Between the kids, the gym, and my personal sex life, I barely had
time to sit.

  Thank God Victor never caught me cheating. Who knew how that would have unfolded if he ever had? You might find this strange, but when Victor and I got married, I signed a prenuptial agreement. The only reason I signed it was because it had a single clause: that if the marriage did not work, I could walk away with whatever the judge deemed fit, unless I’d been unfaithful. I never worried much about being caught, though. Even back when he was as healthy as a horse, Victor was too busy to try to figure out what I was up to. But then again, Victor was so oblivious to what really went on, and he was so weak when it came to standing up to me, that if I had ever been caught, I would’ve been able to get away with it with no consequences.

  I reached the drycleaner’s, picked up my Alexander McQueen pantsuit, and was racing down the highway to make it back home. I couldn’t wait to put on the suit. I had just purchased it a few days ago. It cost me close to two grand, but it was worth every penny. I had been named the beneficiary on his million-dollar life insurance policy, but I knew that was only the beginning, so what was two grand?

  The material of the suit felt smooth as butter against my skin, and I looked amazing in it. I took it to the drycleaner’s to have the pants hemmed and the width of the jacket taken in so it could fit me a little tighter. I had a size five waist and, thanks to my implants, 36D breasts. I was very proud of my figure, and I liked to show it off everywhere I went.

  When I reached home, I ran up the front staircase toward the front door. With the exception of running a little bit late, I felt great about today. I was sure Victor had left me very well taken care of.

  When I walked through the front door and saw Jamela standing in the living room, my good mood and vibes went out the window.

  “I was just sending you a text. Ivan moved the meeting to three o’clock this afternoon,” she said while she looked down at her phone. “Something about him running late with another meeting,” she continued.

  “Wait. Why is he calling to tell you about my meeting with him?” I asked.

  “It’s not just your meeting, Glendora. I am supposed to be there too,” she informed me.

  This really threw me off. As far as I was concerned, Victor and I had always spoken about not including any of the kids in any of our wills until they were older. He agreed because he said he did not want to leave the kids with anything they were not old enough to handle. Soon after his stroke, we decided to update his will in the event that he was to pass before me, and we both agreed to leave me as the sole beneficiary of his entire estate. Of course, I told him I would disperse the money and accounts evenly among the children, but I knew I would make sure Jamela never received a dime. I paid my dues by having to raise her from when she was a little girl and having to put up with her prissy ass all these years. With me being the only person in his will, it guaranteed me that Jamela would never get anything from him. Learning that she was invited to the meeting really pissed me off.

  “Listen well, you little bitch. Don’t think for a second that you are going into this meeting because your father left you something. I was his wife for over ten years, and I know all of his affairs and documents,” I said as I walked toward her and waved my pointer finger in her face. “Now, I don’t know what your sneaky ass is up to or how you managed to get yourself involved in this meeting, but I do know this: When we get back from this meeting, you are to pack up your things and get the hell out of my house. I’m not a landlord, and you are not my tenant. Screw a thirty-day notice. You have two days to get all your stuff out of here. After that I am changing the locks and I will file a restraining order against you if I catch you on my property.” Before she had a chance to say anything back, I went to my room to prepare myself for the reading of the will. The days of me needing a man to house, clothe, and feed me were over!

  “Mr. Chester will see you now.” The lady at the front desk pointed us in the direction of Ivan’s office.

  “Mrs. Long!” Ivan exclaimed as soon as I entered. He greeted me with a confident handshake. “You look fabulous today,” he complimented me.

  “Thank you, Ivan.”

  “And it’s good seeing you again too, Ms. Long. It’s been a while,” he greeted Jamela.

  God, I hated having to share my last name with her. But now that her father was gone, I wouldn’t have to put up with her for much longer. Soon, Jamela would just be an insignificant thing of the past. Maybe I’d even go back to my maiden name. Really start life over from the beginning.

  “Ladies, shall we have a seat at my desk?” Ivan suggested. After he got us bottled water and took out all the paperwork, we were finally ready to get the meeting started.

  “Ladies, before we begin, I must inform you that this entire proceeding will be recorded for legal purposes. This is the device that I will be using to record.” He pointed down to a small rectangular device that had two small lights on it, along with a stop and go button. It reminded me a little bit of a cassette player from back in the day. “When the light is green, that means the meeting has commenced. Please let me know when you are ready to begin.”

  “I am ready,” I said as I straightened up in the chair.

  “Ready,” said a nervous-looking Jamela. It brought me joy to see her so uncomfortable.

  Without saying anything further, Ivan nodded his head and pressed the go button on the device. The green light turned on, and Ivan leaned in toward the recorder.

  “This is Ivan Chester from Chester and Chester Attorneys at Law. Today is Wednesday, October eleventh, and we are here for the reading of the will for Victor Long. Present at the reading of the last will and testament of Victor Long is the surviving lawful wife as registered by the State of California, Glendora Long. Also present is his surviving biological daughter, Jamela Long.”

  Ivan picked up the will and brought it to his face. He began reading directly from the document. “As written in the will: ‘I, Victor Long, residing at 1201 Rancho Alisal Drive, Santa Ynez, California, declare this to be my will, and I revoke any and all prior wills and codicils I have previously made with the exception of privileges made in my will created with my widower Arlene Long concerning Jamela Long’s inheritances.”

  I was beginning to lose my patience listening to all the legalities. I wished Ivan would just skip to what I came here for.

  “Remaining privileges exempted from the will concern the transfer of ownership of Long’s Soul Food chain of restaurants. When Jamela Long reaches the age of majority, I authorize the transfer of ownership for Jamela Long to become legal CEO of all Long’s Soul Food restaurants and possible future chains.”

  “Wait a minute!” I interrupted. “What the hell do you mean CEO? I’m his wife, and I am fully entitled to everything!” I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. Did he really just say Jamela would be the CEO of the restaurants? “Does that mean his ownership goes over to her as well?” I was confused, but more so livid! Here I was thinking he might have left her an insurance policy, some jewelry, furniture, or maybe his car, but here he’d turned over his entire empire, his legacy to her.

  “Mrs. Long, you cannot interrupt during a last will testamentary reading,” Ivan commented. “This is a recorded event for full disclosure purposes,” Ivan continued. “Now, allow me to do my job without interruption.” Ivan rewound the recording to a point before my outburst. I was fuming inside, but I knew I had to keep my composure. The nerve of my husband to have gone behind my back and created this foolishness.

  “Ahem. Please take into account that this recording has been altered to strike out verbal mistakes. Continuation of the reading of the will . . .”

  I couldn’t understand a single word of what he said for the next five minutes. I was pissed beyond belief. The entire time I sat in my chair fighting the urge to slap the color off of everyone’s face in the room. That was until I heard the mention of my name.

  “Glendora Long has been given all and exclusive privileges of my bank accounts,” Ivan read.

  I didn’
t give a shit about that. I’d already drained them dry. “Keep it moving. I already know that,” I said, getting impatient.

  “Glendora! If you disrupt my reading one more time, I will have you removed from my office and you will have to get your results from Jamela when this is over! My schedule is packed, and you are wasting valuable time that I cannot afford and neither can you. Do I make myself clear?” A clearly agitated Ivan surprised me with his authority.

  “I apologize about that, Mr. Chester. It won’t happen again. Please continue.” And I meant it. I couldn’t wait to hear the details of any other assets Victor might have had. I just couldn’t imagine he’d leave the restaurant business to Jamela and leave me with less than her.

  All of a sudden, I realized that I shouldn’t have expected anything else. I’d never really shown an interest in the business, so Victor probably figured I didn’t want to be bothered with it. I never cared for those restaurants anyhow. I couldn’t even remember the last time I set foot in one of them. The only time those restaurants mattered to me was when I was making the daily deposits into the account . . . or not.

  “For the record, we have altered this recording for the second time,” Ivan continued. I heard my name again, and so I perked up again. He was mentioning something about brokerage accounts. “The amount in each brokerage account will be undisclosed for the will, as the values vary for each of the personal accounts. All other accounts relating to the restaurants will become the responsibility of the new CEO, Jamela Long. Effective immediately, Jamela Long is sole beneficiary of the Long’s Soul Food restaurant account as well. She is to pay the widower Glendora Long a fifty thousand dollar severance.”