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Persia gets up from her seat. “I guess this’ll be something else Mother can talk about.”
Paris shrugs. “I guess it will be. Fact is I don’t care what she thinks, or says.”
“Ummm, speaking of which,” I say, shifting in my seat. “Since I have the two of you here, I have some news of my own.”
Persia flops back down in her seat. “Oh, God, please don’t tell me you’re pregnant, too.”
I laugh. “Girl, hell no. Didn’t you hear me when I said I was glad Paris was pregnant instead of me?”
“That’s a relief,” Persia says, letting out a deep breath. “Then what is it?”
I glance at Paris, then smile. “The mystery man in my life is Emerson.”
She blinks. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I shake my head. “No. I’m serious. Emerson and I have been going hot and heavy for a few months now.”
Persia just stares at me, long and hard, then finally asks, “Why?”
Paris
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Oh, how I wish Persia could have seen the look on her face when Porsha revealed that she was seeing Emerson. It was…priceless!
“I don’t fucking believe this. Tell me this is a joke.”
Porsha shook her head. “It’s not a joke. Emerson and I have been seeing each other for the last five months.”
“I thought we had a pact to not see any men we cut off behind each other’s backs?”
“We did,” Porsha stated. “But I never wanted to cut him off. You did.”
“And you agreed to it.”
“Yeah, unfortunately I did.”
“So you’re the woman Emerson was talking about?”
Porsha nodded. Persia shook her head. “I can’t believe both of you hookers have been keeping secrets from me. Are there any others that either of you might wanna share with me now?”
“Persia,” I said. “I know you’re upset that we didn’t share this with you. But the fact of the matter is you spend too much time trying to micro-manage us. We’re grown women, who are entitled to do what we want, with whomever we want as long as we’re not maliciously or purposefully trying to hurt anyone else.”
“Persia, Emerson is a really good man,” Porsha offered. “And he loves me.”
She stared at Porsha. “And the fact that”—She pointed around the room at Porsha and me—“all three of us have slept with him is okay with you?”
“No, at first it wasn’t. I struggled with it. But, what we did with him was a mutual decision. I didn’t know he had feelings for me. And I didn’t know that I would have any for him. But I do. And he’s not interested in fucking either of you, again. So, yes—now, I’m more than okay with it.”
“I’m happy for you,” I stated, giving her a hug. “I’m glad it’s finally out in the open so you can finally bring him around.”
Persia frowned. “I don’t want him here.”
Porsha raised her brow, placing a hand up on her hip. “And why not?”
“Because don’t you think that having Emerson in our home after we’ve fucked him every which way is going to be a whole lot uncomfortable for all of us?”
“Not for me,” I said. “I’ve always liked Emerson. I mean, it’s unfortunate that I know what the man’s dick looks and feels like…”
