order antabuse over the counter “Wow, that was close,” Michael told Sheila.
buy Lyrica 50 mg Sheila didn’t say anything as she stared into his eyes. Trying to escape his hazel eye onslaught wasn’t working, and because every part of her body was still shaking from rage, fear, and now excitement, she couldn’t compose herself enough to stop staring at this man and prevent herself from the most embarrassing display of a star struck fandom.
“You look at bit shaken. Are you sure you’re OK?” Michael said with a gentle voice, and then moved in a bit closer, concerned and a bit worried himself.
‘His cologne – OMG he smells so good’ Sheila thought to herself as her other senses began to come back online.
“I…”, Sheila cleared the mouse from her throat, “I’m OK – I think.”
“Do you need help into the lobby? Maybe you should sit down for a minute.” Michael extended his hand in a kind gesture to help this stranger who he nearly ran over. It was the least he could do.
Sheila looked down at the hands of the man she’d had a crush on since the first time she saw him on the big screen – years ago – way before Zeke and kids.
‘And his hands – OMG – they’re perfect. His nails – I’ve never seen a man with nails so perfect. I can’t even remember my last manicure. I bet his feet are perfect too.’
Sheila’s mind started imagining Michael’s perfect manicured bare feet, then what had to be his strong muscular bare legs – toned from all of those action movies. Then she started to imagine a little bit higher up his amazing body – but caught herself. ‘I can’t touch this man’s hand.’ she warned herself.
Without hesitation Sheila reached toward the star’s hand and without paying any attention to her own wisdom, took it and squeezed tight – acting herself – as if she was a bit of a damsel in distress – needing rescuing by her prince charming.
Michael instinctively placed his arm around Sheila’s shoulder, squeezed gently enough but strong enough to let her know he had her. And was he was strong – Sheila felt it. And as soon as he moved in close, she took a deep breath to consume the intensely aromatic air around her – a mix of his exotic and intoxicating cologne and the cool, imagination filled, Vegas night air. Sheila melted into Michael’s arm, right there in front of his car – still growling, still vibrating, and calling for Sheila to take a ride.
Michael’s black short sleeve collared shirt was tight – yet curtly open at the top, just enough to display his silver chain and cross and his ‘I do pushups everyday’ thin but perfectly defined chest. Sheila discreetly looked out the side of her eye to catch a glimpse. He wasn’t hairy. Sheila loved that. Sometimes she wished Ezekiel wasn’t so hairy. She even tried to get him to get a Brazilian wax once. He wasn’t having it.
Then Sheila stopped suddenly, ‘Ezekiel. The kids! Crap!’ she thought to herself – ‘What the hell am I doing?’
Shocked for a moment at how quickly she allowed this strange man to embrace her – Michael Ely or not, Sheila stood still and looked through the lobby of the hotel and could see Ezekiel standing at the counter checking in. He couldn’t see what was going on outside behind him, and the kids were unusually behaved sitting on the chairs in the lobby.
Feeling Michael’s warm embrace but at the same time looking at her children Sheila quickly realized what she was allowing to happen.
“Hey,” Sheila said slowly, gently, and reluctantly as she pulled away from Michael’s strong comforting embrace, “Wow. I think I’m OK.”
“Are you sure?”
Stepping back and getting some distance from the man, “Yeah, I’m good. I mean, had you been anyone else but Michael Ely – probably not”.
“Really?” Michael became curious.
“Yeah. So consider yourself lucky that I’m a big fan – well – a fan – or else you and the valet’s over there would probably be calling the cops on me or something because I was about to go completely off on you.” Sheila tried to joke through her emotional rollercoaster she was just stepping down from.
Intrigued at that statement, Michael smiled at the short cute lady who obviously was into him like so many women were, but as usual, already taken, and someone else’s lucky catch – as her overtly flashy wedding ring indicated.
‘Oh my God – that smile’ Sheila thought to herself.
“Well I guess I’m glad you’re a fan,” he said while genuinely becoming more captivated at this button-nosed dark chocolate cutie.
She really was not his type of woman, but still, there was something about her. Maybe it was because he knew, that she knew, she had to resist him, and was actually trying to do so. Or maybe it was because she was dressed like someone’s mom in her sweatshirt and yoga pants, but was obviously hiding a former gym rat – but ‘thickness has filled her out way better than any elliptical addiction would ever allow’ – sexy body. Or maybe it was because holding her, just for that brief second, felt different – it felt genuine, it felt good – not dirty like when other fans – women – he didn’t want to hold – but who wanted him to hold them anyways.
“I’m glad you’re a fan and I’m glad you’re OK. You are OK right?”
“Yes I am. I’m OK. But I have to go Michael. As much as I’m a fan, I’ve got to go. Nice meeting you,” Sheila said, a bit frustrated and reluctantly impatient as she turned to go into the hotel lobby – pausing to actually look at the oncoming traffic this time.
Kind of shocked that Sheila was walking away so quick, Michael asked, “Hey you know my name, but what’s yours?”
Sheila paused and turned back around and smirked, “It’s Sheila.”
With a slight surge of excitement that Michael asked what her name was, Sheila swung around as if she was on a fashion show catwalk and began to walk towards the sliding glass door lobby, with the most subdued and yet obvious sway of her hips that she’d ever done in her life. She knew Michael was looking, and that her favorite pair of yoga pants she had on, were her most flattering, so she was not going to let this – one of the most amazing of moments in her life – go to waste by making the most amazing looking man she’d ever met drool as she walked away.
Michael, the valets, and even the elderly couple getting out of the Cadillac Sheila passed on the Interstate earlier couldn’t help but to stare at the perfect display of how a woman – who had nothing to prove – but had everything you want to remember, should walk away from ‘him’.
Michael was mesmerized. And as he watched this amazing, but very off-the-market woman walk away from him, instinct kicked in.
“Hey Sheila,” he said strong enough for her to hear without raising his voice too much.
Sheila pause and turned back around just before entering the lobby doors. And even though their eyes where at least a dozen feet away from each other, there was no doubt Sheila was staring in Michaels eyes and Michael was staring in Sheila’s eyes – as if they were inches away.
“Can I at least buy you a drink later?”
Sheila paused, turned and looked through the lobby glass doors. Not a single person from her family was even interested in what was going on with her – outside. She turned back around to Michael.
“I’m married Mr. Ely.”
Michael paused – looked down with a smirk – then back up to Sheila, “I know. I am too Mrs. Sheila. It’s just a drink. It’s the least I can do for almost running you over.”
Maybe because Sheila hadn’t had to defend herself against a great and honest attempt at a sincere lie of a line like that in years, or maybe because she was in Vegas, or maybe and truly likely because it was Michael Ely, – Sheila replied, “Like you – I’m sure, I have plans for this evening Mr. Ely. But if you’re in the hotel lounge around midnight tonight – I may join you for that drink.”
Michael flashed his amazing smiled and nodded OK, “I’ll be looking for you Mrs. Sheila.”
Sheila was shocked that without displaying any hesitation or conflicts of self-negotiation or concern on the accuracy of her timing, or anything that hinted that she had other responsibilities – that she had calculated, conspired, and concocted at least four different scenarios wherein she would be done with dinner, Zeke and his girlfriend’s concert, sent Lauren on her way, and either had Zeke snoring in bed or given him permission to go and gamble money they didn’t have, late into the night – all so that she could be in the hotel lounge by midnight – waiting on Michael. Sheila smiled, turned back around and resumed her amazing walk away.
As she went through the sliding glass doors, she immediately went over to her three children sitting in the lobby chairs and gave Jessi a big hug. She knew her daughter wouldn’t jerk away at a surprise hug like one of her boys probably would have. The last thing she wanted was for Michael Ely to think that she didn’t have a wonderful relationship with her family. Besides, she also needed a hug to help shed the guilt of what she was thinking when Michael was holding her – by touching one of her children first – before she approached or touched her husband. After the hug, she went immediately and stood excessively close to her husband at the check-in counter.
Michael Ely walked in through the lobby doors and headed straight past the desk and towards the elevators. No one took time to look up from their phones or work to see the star walk by – but Sheila did, and as she watch, he watched from the corner of his eye – smiling as he disappeared toward the elevator.
“Babe, they upgraded me,” Ezekiel said excitedly. We’re in the VIP suite. The kids are a few floors below us, but we’ll have one of the best rooms in the hotel.
“Nice. That’s real nice sweetheart,” Sheila said while still staring in the area that Michael had just disappeared from.
“I know right? It’s not the presidential suite, but it’s on the same floor. I guess all that traveling and me collecting rewards points has paid …” Ezekiel paused “What are you looking at Sheila?”
Sheila caught herself – turned to her handsome husband – and kissed him gently on the cheek. “Nothing sweetheart. Just looking at the beautiful hotel. Can’t wait to see the room!” Sheila pretended that she was excited by the room and not about what had just happened her.
On the way to dropping off the kids to their room and going to their VIP suite Sheila was consistently replaying the unbelievable events that had already transpired. And although there was no way in hell that she was going to even be near the hotel lounge at midnight, she couldn’t help but to be in disbelief that she had met her celebrity crush, been held by him, smelled his amazing cologne, and even propositioned by him. If she hadn’t – just had to tell her kids to take a shower before heading to the pool, break up a fight over who was first, negotiate who had to share beds or sleep on the floor, and threaten Jacobi for intentionally burping nonstop, she would have sworn it had to be a dream.
After her mom duties, Sheila left the kids and went up two flights of stairs to the VIP suite floor. The suite was wonderful, and Ezekiel was still wet, and fresh out the shower with just a towel hanging around his waist, pulling out clothes from his suitcase.
“I think I’m going to wear my black shirt and black boots tonight, what do you think?”
‘Why didn’t I just say no earlier?’ Sheila asked herself as she looked at her husband who she’d been cooking a bit too much for but still excited her in the towel, love handles and all.
“The black short sleeve shirt. I think that’ll be nice on you.” Sheila said. “It’s a little cool outside, but I think you look sexy in it.”
“I do, don’t I?” Zeke chuckled at his comment.
‘Now I’m going to have to think about how bad I’m going to feel by standing him up, because I’m not going down there – no matter what Sheila – you’re not going down there – understand?’ -Sheila contemplated then warned herself.
“This room is amazing sweetheart. I wonder what the presidential suites look like?” – Sheila said to Zeke while wondering if Michael was in the presidential suite at the end of the hallway.
Even though she quickly dismissed that train of thought, Sheila did wonder what an even better room looked like, because their suite was opulent, a modern décor, accented in lavender, beige, and deep burgundy furniture, with a magnificent mural that drew the eye to the wall cornered to the shimmering evening lights of the Vegas strip. Marriott obviously paid someone good money to labor and design this room, so the presidential suite must have been even more amazing. That, and because that’s where Michael had to be.
“I don’t know, but this is really nice. Hey, it’s almost five thirty – the concert is at eight thirty, and we really should grab something to eat before then. Why don’t you get started on you? I’ll check on the kids at the pool, make sure they don’t go overboard ordering room service, and hopefully Lauren will be here by then. Let’s try to be out of here no later than six-thirty or seven. That’ll give us a minute to grab something to eat before the concert. Sounds good?”
Sheila was staring at the eyes of the woman on the mural in the room. Those eyes had to see all sorts of craziness in this room. Way crazier than run-of-the-mill infidelity – right?
“Sounds like a plan,” Sheila finally replied. “Hey, did you ever get those back stage passes from Braeden?”
Ezekiel stopped cold – just as he was heading to the door.
Knowing what Sheila was talking about – but still trying to be nonchalant, “What back stage passes?”
Sheila gave Zeke the eye that only a wife knows how to give to a lying husband.
“Oh! Those passes. Yes. I mean no. I mean yes and no!” Ezekiel stumbled.
“What does that supposed to mean Zeke?” Sheila demanded.
Although he had planned to tell his wife – Zeke was kind of hoping for a miracle so that he wouldn’t have to say, “Well, I only got one back stage pass from Braedon sweetheart.”
Sheila stared at her husband, who was obviously not going to tell her this unless she had asked.
“One back stage pass? So, what, you were just going to leave me, so you can go back stage with that… that woman you want as a celebrity free pass?”
“Don’t do that Sheila. Braedon could only get one back stage pass. Besides, it’s not a key to her hotel room.” – Ezekiel wanted to punch himself in the head after uttering exactly what he was thinking – without thinking – as usual.
“I bet you would like that, wouldn’t you?”
‘Crap – here goes.’ Ezekiel thought to himself.
Sheila jumped at the opportunity to get one up on Ezekiel before the night started. She had to. So she played the couples two-step dance of ‘I’m upset with you so you don’t get upset with me’ game expertly – while at the same time her mind was running a mile a minute calculating the best scenarios and situations that would help her support something awful and exciting that she didn’t want, and was absolutely not going to do at midnight.
“Sheila, why are you tripping all of a sudden? I just told you that I don’t want a free pass tonight or ever. I just want to meet the woman. I love her music. I love her voice. Is that OK?”
‘For tonight, sure is my brother.’ Sheila thought then laughed to herself.
“Tripping? I shouldn’t be tripping when you are the one with back stage passes to see Jil Scot and apparently had no plans to tell me. I guess you didn’t want to embarrass yourself with your wife tagging along backstage to meet your little girlfriend huh?” Sheila asked sarcastically. She simultaneously turned up the emotionalism without a reason or destination – knowing it would put her in the best position to control the rest of the night.
“Embarrass myself?! – Because of you? I’m going to check on the kids Sheila.” Zeke started heading towards the door. “I have one backstage pass. If it’s that big a deal to you, I won’t even use it. I was considering not even using it anyways. I wanted you to meet her too and just felt bad to go by myself I guess.”
‘Got him’ – Sheila thought to herself.
“It’s OK Zeke,” Sheila paused, “You can go,” she said sweetly but at the same time trying not to sound as if she was giving in so easily. “I like her music, but I really don’t need or want to meet her. Besides, I figured you were going to ask to go gambling after the concert later anyway. I want you to enjoy yourself tonight. I’ll go to the concert, but then I’ll probably come right back to the room. You go see your little girlfriend backstage. Go gambling too. I don’t mind. Seriously. Just be back at a reasonable time, OK?” – ‘But not before 3AM’ – Sheila thought to herself. “Besides, I’m starting to get a headache anyways.” Sheila lied with unnerving ease.
“Do you need some pain killers out the gift shop?” Ezekiel asked.
“No. I’m good. But go on now. Check on the kids. I’ll give Lauren a call to see where she is.”
Ezekiel turned and opened the door and just as he was almost out.
“But remember Zeke – I’m serious about the free pass. That deal is off for you – you know – especially if you go back stage.”
Ezekiel smiled and nodded his head in agreement. He loved to see that his wife was still jealous, still thinking he was a good catch and that some other woman could actually steal him away from her. It kind of turned him on. And she was such a good woman. There was no way she’d ever cheat on him. Besides, Sheila wasn’t going to a concert to see Mitchel Eli – or whatever that dude’s name was. He was probably in Hollywood clubbing it up with some model girlfriends of his. So, he didn’t even need to bring up that long conversation about Sheila giving up her free pass too. Because that was just another long ‘talk’ and tonight was not for talking. Tonight, was for seeing Jil, getting drunk, and bringing the casinos to their knees because of all the money he was about to win. Ezekiel checked for his wallet as the door closed behind him.
Back in the room, Sheila jumped up as soon as the door closed, ran to her purse, took out her phone and called Lauren.
‘What am I doing?’ – she thought to herself as the phone was ringing. ‘There’s no way I’m doing this.’
“Pick up – Pick up!” Sheila demanded to the phone as if Lauren could hear her. No answer. Sheila hung up, waited a few seconds and dialed again. The phone just rang and rang again.
As soon as Sheila was about to hang up and dial one more time, she heard what sounded like another phone’s ringtone coming from somewhere. Sheila looked around to make sure Ezekiel hadn’t left his phone. He hadn’t – she saw him with it on the way out.
Then, just as Lauren’s voice mail came on the phone, there was a familial shriek that came from right outside the hotel room door. She knew that scream was from her sister Lauren. But why was she screaming? What was going on?
Sheila ran from the bedroom to the front door of the hotel room suite and swung it open. It was Lauren. She was standing there, looking down the hallway, still screaming as if she seen somebody famous.
“Lauren! What’s going on? What are you doing!?” Sheila demanded.
“Oh -my – God! Michael Ely! Is that you!? Really?! Oh my Gooooooood!!!!!” Lauren, who was staring down the hallway, took off running like a track star hearing the gun shot at the starting line.
At the end of the hallway, Michael, walking out of his presidential suite room door, was caught off guard but not surprised at another young lady, who kind of looked like Sheila, but who had to be at least ten years younger. He also noticed she had a beautiful bouncing body and weave, as she took off towards him down the hallway. While normally he dreaded these moments, especially from women his own age – or worse yet, women old enough to be his mama, this young lady – well it could be worse. And even though Lauren was wearing little to no makeup, Michael quickly noticed that her youth easily compensated for that, and just watching her body bounce towards him, wearing way too tight jeans and an even tighter low-cut UNLV t-shirt in which any part of her body could pop out of at any moment, was both enticing, appealing, and appalling because at the same time he saw Sheila, – right down the hallway – eyeing him, eyeing this young lady.
Lauren leapt off the ground – as if she were doing a long jump – and nearly knocked Michael over as she straddled him with both legs and both arms in a near death grip body hold. Michael braced himself with the additional weight of this young lady.
“Oh my God Michael. Oh my God. What are you doing here? Oh my God, I love you.” – Lauren held nothing back as she squeezed him tight enough that Michael gasped for air. She rubbed her nose all over his neck and ear. “An oh my God – you smell so good. I knew you smelled like this. I just knew it!”
“Uh – thank you,” Michael barely mumbled, still gasping for air, “But I can’t breathe.”
“Lauren!” Sheila yelled too loudly, “Leave Michael alone!”
‘Leave Michael alone?’ Lauren thought to herself. She had a puppy dog shock of a reaction because that sounded way too familiar. It sounded exactly like all the times Sheila would yell at her after going into Sheila’s room and taking something that didn’t belong to her. It sounded way too possessive for this man who nearly every woman loved but could not have any idea who Sheila was.
Lauren reluctantly climbed down off Michael who, with unexpected strength, let her down gently. Lauren, as if she were giving Michael a pat down, intentionally molested and sniffed every part of him as she slowly let go.
“Oooh, me too Michael. Me too,” Lauren unabashedly grabbed his tight rear end.
Michael, finally shocked by the butt grab and inappropriate statement from this obviously overly aggressive young lady, slowly pealed her away, “Hey, come on now. Thank you for being a fan, but we don’t know each other like that.”
“That and I’m sure Mr. Ely would not like to be accosted by someone young enough to be his daughter,” Sheila snatched Lauren backwards by the shoulder, “Sorry about that, Mr. Ely”
“Hey! Watch it!” Lauren scowled, “And, Mr. Ely? Girl you know you crazy about this man too!”
Sheila tried not to blush in front of Michael.
“And uh – excuse me? Who cares about age? This man is ffuuuiiiiinnnnee! Michael don’t pay any attention to her. I’m twenty-four and more than legal baby. Besides, I like older men. How old are you anyways? Thirty-six, thirty-nine?”
“I’m forty-eight,” Michael admitted, still smiling at this young firecracker who was obviously some relation to Sheila.
“Oh.” Lauren a bit shocked, paused and stepped back a little. She gazed him up and down and contemplated for a second. “It don’t matter. You still fine. A little older than I thought, but…” Lauren smacked her lips and rolled her neck, “I can make an exception.”
“Lauren if you don’t get your little fast-ass out this man’s face!” Sheila stepped in front of Lauren to prevent her from continuing to undress Michael with her eyes. “You know momma didn’t raise us like this. College in Vegas is doing a number on you girl. You better go chase after them little no good, broke college boys you be telling me about.”
Sheila turned back around to Michael, stuck her hand out for a hand shake, and looked him straight in the eye, smiled and said, “Hi Mr. Ely, so nice to meet you. I’m Sheila, and this is my horny little sister Lauren.”
Michael, without a hitch or a glimpse of confusion that they’d already previously met, smiled back and gently took Sheila’s hand, once again, and said, “Nice to meet you Sheila. I see beauty runs in your family.”
As Sheila melted, Lauren came up from behind her, stood right next to Sheila, pulled her low-cut tight t-shirt even lower exposing her perky twenty-four year old ample bosom, swung her hair hard enough to nearly hit Sheila in the mouth, flashed her pearly whites and said, “Yes is does baby. Yes it does. But she’s married and I’m not,” Lauren blew Michael a kiss.
At that moment, Michael’s presidential suite double-doors opened and an amazingly beautiful, very young, very thin, very model-esc, dark haired, exotic looking, tan but white woman stepped out. Or maybe she wasn’t white. Maybe she was Latina or very southern exotic Euro or something – neither Sheila nor Lauren could tell. But for sure she was on the much lighter end of either of those races or places – way whiter looking to Sheila than any woman she imagined Michael being with. Not that she had anything against white women – but as usual – it figured.
“Michael, are you OK?” the woman asked, standing in a robe, with her long wet flowing hair, perfect features, and perfect accent whose origin was as confusing as determining her race. “I heard screaming from the shower.”
“I’m fine honey. Just a little excitement from greeting fans.”
The woman took a quick measurement of the two ladies she heard screaming for Michael. One for sure had to be someone’s housewife in those dreadful yoga pants and dingy sweatshirt, and the other, young and a bit cute, but obviously too desperate and homely for Michael. She quickly dismissed them as inconsequential.
“Oh – OK. Now I understand,” she stuck her nose up at Sheila and Lauren and arrogantly said, “He gets those reactions from you people all the time.”
Both Sheila and were taken off guard by that comment.
“Say what?! You people? Who you calling you people?” Lauren stepped towards the woman while Sheila held her back. “Oh no. Uh-uh,” Lauren stared at Michael and growled, “Michael Ne-gro Ely, please do not tell me this white heifer is yo wife.”
The woman wasn’t fazed by Lauren’s reaction and only said in her accent that was thickening, “I am not his wife! And what is this word Michael? What is this word heifer?”
Michael lightly rolled his eyes at this, another situation this woman was intentionally inciting. No longer looking like the handsome man of two minutes ago, but more like a guilty cheating husband, he reluctantly turned and looked at Sheila and said, “No, this is not my wife. This is Ivana. She’s just a friend.”
“Friend!? I am more than friend, Michael”, Ivana sounded both aggressively dangerous and pitifully sad as she turned Michael towards her. She poked her lips out, which were perfectly lined with dark ruby red lipstick, and kissed him sensually and deeply for what seemed like an eternity to Sheila. Then after she finally released him from her lip lock, she asked, “I am your girlfriend, no?”
Although Michael was licking his lips, he was clearly annoyed, “Ivana, I told you. I am not divorced yet. And you can’t go around saying I have a girlfriend until I am,”
Immediately getting visibly upset, Ivana yelled, “No! I am not hiding anymore Michael!” Ivana reached in her robe and pulled out her cell phone, “Take picture with me now! We Tweet to the world of our love!” Ivana then looked over to Sheila and Lauren, “You, get out your phones, take pictures, Instagram to his wife and world that Michael Ely is on sex filled weekend with his girlfriend, me, Ivana Popovich!”
Sheila and Lauren looked at each other completely confused.
“Ivana? Who is a Ivana?” Lauren said disgustedly, “No he didn’t. Uh-uh time to go.” Lauren turned around and started walking back to Sheila’s room, “Ain’t this some bullshit? Ivana!? You know niggas lose they damn mind when they get to Hollywood.” Lauren paused and turned back around and looked for Sheila who was still standing in front of Michael. “Come on Sheila! Leave his old ass to that white bitch he cheating with! We ain’t fans no more!” Lauren turn back around and went in through the VIP suite door which Sheila had left propped open but yelled loud enough to be heard down the hall, “I can’t believe that nigga’s with a white woman name Ivana. Ivana Poopoobitch!”
Hearing Lauren’s insult, Ivana scowled and swung herself back into the presidential suite and yelled from inside, “And you hurry too Michael, we have dinner reservations!”
The silence in the hotel hallway was – as deafening quiet, as the mouths of both Ivana and Lauren were deafening loud. Sheila, who had been quiet the entire time, continued to stand still, staring Michael in his eyes, which at that moment, were not nearly as beautiful to her as they once were before. Sheila desperately wanted to say something. She desperately wanted to let Michael know how beyond shocked and disappointed she was.
No, she actually wanted to slap him. She wanted to rile back and grab a handful of all of her pain, hurt, disgust, shame and tears, and slap the rest of the black off this half white negro.
But she didn’t. She didn’t, and as she wiped her eyes, the only thing she had was a handful of her tears.
Michael saw the tears forming in Sheila’s eyes. What had just happened? How did this just happen? He was just heading down to get a drink while Ivana was in the shower. What could he say? There wasn’t anything he could say that would matter. But he had to try.
In the softest tone, dreamy eyed, best acting that wasn’t acting, he attempted, “I um – I’m so sorry, – again. You know this was not exactly how I had hoped to see you again.”
Sheila slapped him anyways.
It wasn’t hard because she didn’t want to leave a mark on his disgustingly handsome face, or worse yet catch an assault charge. But she slapped him. She slapped him because he deserved it and because – because she didn’t know why else.
Michael took the slap well – without much reaction. He’d been slapped much harder many times before both on screen and off. He took it because he knew that Sheila thought he deserved it and because – well after that altercation, he probably did actually deserve it.
“That’s for making me even consider having a drink with your cheating ass. And! – that was for making me think – for all these years – that you were as kind and wonderful as you are in the movies,” Sheila turned and started back towards her room, but stopped and went back to Michael, “And! – that was for making me, and every other black woman even imagine all the nasty stuff you know you make women want to do to you – with you – and we shouldn’t – cause we married!”
Sheila again turned back around and headed down the hallway.
Michael watched her walk away. And as much as he wanted to not upset her anymore, he had to try and fix this. Timidly he said, “But Sheila …” And before Michael could continue, Sheila had turned back around and was marching right back toward him again.
This time Sheila didn’t yell immediately. She stood there for a few seconds, stared him in is beautiful eyes – one last time – and slapped him again – really hard this time.
Michael stumbled a bit to the side this time and bent over holding his head and yelled, “What the hell!?”
“And that was for earlier, when you nearly ran me over – and what I held back but obviously should’ve done then – nigga.”
Sheila turned back around one last time and didn’t stop storming down the hallway until she reached her door which she promptly slammed shut as hard as she could.
Bent over, holding his head, which was actually hurting now, Michael couldn’t help but to be at eye level of another amazing walk away from a woman who, although obviously had some major anger issues all through her family, but who he, for some reason was completely and totally crazy about – at least at that very moment. But why? She wasn’t all that. And he barely even knew her.
“Damn it!” Michael yelled out loud to himself – angry at the whole situation – angry at himself for even being even more attracted to that crazy woman. Why didn’t he just come to Vegas by himself that weekend? Why did he have to bring crazy Ivana?
“And why am I always attracted to crazy women!?” Michael questioned himself out loud.
Immediately after he spoke, as if Michael was talking to her, Ivana said, “Hurry Michael. Hurry and come back in. I need you to zip me up,” Ivana ordered from inside.
“OK!” Michael yelled from outside and slowly stood up and shook off the really hard – but sexy as hell – slap.
Mumbling to himself on the way into his presidential suite, “If I didn’t need to get away this weekend…” he paused.
“Michael!” Ivana yelled.
“I’m coming!” Michael yelled back.
“I should’ve never told Ivana that Jil had given me front row tickets and backstage passes for tonight,” he mumbled under his breath, “I could’ve just come by myself.”