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what it is.”
    “Well that’s what Edgar is. A bugarrone . Casa de
Mita is where he works.
    “ Casa de Mita .”
    “But everybody calls it House of John. It’s kind of like one
of the places a lot of black Americans hang out in. It’s where I hang out when
I go down there. I mean, Essence did a big story on it last year.”
    “So this Casa de Mita , this House of John place is
like a bordello.”
    “No, Jazz, House of John is not like a bordello,” she said,
staring him straight in the eye. “It is a bordello.”
    “I see.”
    “And Edgar just happens to be one of several bugarrones working there. Nothing more, nothing less.”
    “So he must be one helluva bugarrone to have you
calling out his name while I’m the one fucking you.”
    “Jazz. Baby. I haven’t been down there since I met you. But
I lived a lot of life before I met you. And I had a lot of fun living it.”
    “I love you, Frankie,” boy toy said softly, a hint of hurt
in his voice.
    “I love you too, Jazz.” And she truly meant it, in her
Frankie sort of way.
    “I was hoping that…”
    But he couldn’t go on. All he could do was stare in her eyes,
lips quivering.
    “Hoping what, Jazz?”
    “I was hoping that…” he began, turning his eyes away. “I was
hoping we’d get married one day.”
    “Oh Jazz,” she said in a slow hush, not knowing what else to
say.
    “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Frankie.”
    “Listen, Jazz.”
    “I’m not proposing now. But I was planning to. So think
about it. You don’t have to decide right now. But think about it. Think about
you and me, together forever, okay?”
    “Okay, Jazz. I’ll think about it.”
    He kissed her gently on the lips, then brushed the dangling
lock of hair from her face and managed a smile. He seemed like such a little
boy to Frankie, a beautiful little boy. Oh how she loved him. But marry him?
    “I gotta go,” he said after giving her a long, hopeful kiss.
“I’ll call you later.”
    “Okay, baby,” she said, as he walked out of her front door,
gently closing it behind him.
    Frankie stood in the middle of the room dumbfounded. She
really hadn’t seen this coming. Marriage? Been there done that. Three times.
Four, if you counted her marriage to her gay brother’s Dominican lover so he
could immigrate to America. Right now all she wanted was the horsemeat without
buying the stallion. She was a playgirl with a whole lot of play still left in
her. All she wanted these days was friends with benefits and Jazz was on the
top of the list.
    But marry him?
    Her phone rang. She went to the table next to the bed and
checked the caller ID on her phone. She smiled with needed relief as she
clicked it on and put it to her ear. “Hey, Trudy. What’s up, girl?”
    “He’s coming home, Frankie!” Trudy declared excitedly.
Frankie could tell her good girlfriend was about to burst.
    “Michael?”
    “Well who the hell else?”
    “Oh Trudy! I an sooo happy for you.”
    “I can’t believe it! Three tours of duty and my baby’s finally
coming home for good.”
    “Good for you, girl and good for him. I know you’re gonna be
celebrating for days.”
    “You got that right. In fact that’s why I’m calling. I just
talked to Yvette and now you. I wanna take my two best girls out for lunch
today. Please tell me you’re free.”
    “Honey, even if I wasn’t, I’d have to break some
appointments for this.”
    “The Ivy at two?”
    “You got it, doll. See you then.”
    Frankie chuckled as she clicked her phone off. Warmly ironic
thoughts of Trudy filled her mind. Trudy Amberson, her beautiful plus-sized
good girlfriend, was truly the marriage-forever kind and Frankie loved and
admired her for it.
    Trudy was known as the Commercial Queen and Madison Avenue’s
go-to darling. Her fresh-faced, wholesome beauty and bright Midwestern smile
earned her a healthy six-figure annual income pitching everything from auto
insurance to breakfast cereal.
    Trudy had married