Chapter 1
“…nine, ten, eleven…and twelve.” Madison DuPree took one last look around the restaurant, then smiled
triumphantly. “Twelve gay men, but that’s not including the one who doesn’t know what the hell he is.
Check him out,” she said before nodding toward the bar. As usual, Leonard’s was crowded, but it seemed
even more so for a Thursday evening.
Squished in between a nightclub and a strip joint, the restaurant was the first thing people noticed
because of its shocking purple brick front and cotton-candy-pink trimming. It was in downtown Atlanta
within walking distance of Centennial Olympic Park, an arm’s length away from the CNN Center, and a quick
jog from the Georgia Dome.
But it wasn’t too packed to figure out who Madison was talking about. Honey-hued and with the black man’
s requisite bald head, he was flitting between men and women as though he was at an all you-can-eat-
buffet and he wanted to sample each one.
“He could be bi,” Lauren Hopson offered in a dry tone, then rolled her eyes and took a sip of her apple
martini.
Madison turned around in her seat and scrutinized him. After a minute, she concluded, “You’re right, he’s
bi.”
Blair Ricci turned wide green eyes on her friends. “Do you think he knows…that he’s bi?” Even though
she was white and a housewife from the suburbs, in all the years that they’d known one another she’d
never been uncomfortable with asking them questions. In some ways the three of them were closer than
her own sisters.
Madison gave a loud snort. “Hell yeah, the dude knows he’s bi. After all, this is Atlanta, where the dicks
play double duty.”
Blair swiped a handful of red hair out of her face before glancing at the man. He had moved on to a woman
and was whispering something in her ear that caused her to blush. “I don’t know…now he looks totally
straight,” she said, bewildered. This whole bi-gay thing was confusing.
“Oh Lord,” LaShawn Greene groaned and fingered the Bible in her lap. Their level of conversation had
sunk to a new low.
Madison shot her a look but continued. “That’s all part of their plan…to fit in and play both teams without
anyone finding out. I bet Leonard would know.”
“I bet he would,” Blair answered as she gazed around the restaurant. The owner of the club was easy to
spot. He was the only two-hundred-pound, six-foot-four black man dressed in a gold sequined dress and
Jimmy Choo shoes. “Oh, he’s busy,” she said, disappointed, spying him at the front door greeting
customers.
“Thank God,” LaShawn muttered, relieved as she relaxed against the leather cushions of the spacious
booth. Not even the half-eaten birthday cake, gifts, and wrapping paper that littered the table could make it
feel cluttered.
It was Thursday, and like every first Thursday for the last five years, it was their official Screw Men Night
and Blair’s birthday.
On Screw Men Night families were forgotten, worries were nonexistent, and fun reigned. They were
teenagers again. Mortgage-paying, suburb-living, pedicure-loving, thirty-something-year-old teenagers. In
a town where beautiful women were as common as succulent peaches, they held their own.
But it was Lauren’s, Madison’s, Blair’s and LaShawn’s beautiful coloring—slick brown, luscious red,
luminescent pink, and vibrant yellow—that made one think of M&Ms. In the crowd of chalk-colored blondes,
ashy brunettes, and muddied down grays, they stood out like splashes of sunshine against a black canvas.
They had met five years ago at a yoga class. In the middle of twisting their bodies into shapes that made
them look like human pretzels and stretching their limbs to what felt like the ends of the earth, they had
become fast friends.
“Why do you insist on doing this every time we go out?” Lauren hissed at Madison.
“You guys weren’t talking about anything interesting,” Madison answered in a defensive tone. “Besides,
all this gay stuff reminds me of my same-sex experience,” she boasted and a loud groan went up. They all
had heard the story hundreds of times.
Lauren shook her head and sipped her drink. “Are you talking about the time you got shitfaced at Mardi
Gras and tongued that blond chick?” she asked but didn’t wait for a reply. “I wouldn’t call that a same-sex
experience…it’s just another slutty moment in the life of Madison Dupree,” she finished and everybody
laughed, even Madison. “Speaking of Madison’s slutty moments, isn’t that Keith?” Lauren asked, and then
nodded toward the bar. He had sauntered in, carved his way through the crowd, and made a spot for
himself at the bar.
“What? Where?” Madison asked. She dared a look over her shoulder and groaned. In a city where people
tried on relationships as easily as sweaters, Madison had worn more than her fair share.
“Shit!” she muttered, then eased down in her seat. Not that that would’ve made her less noticeable; at five-
ten, a hundred and thirty-five pounds, skin the color of spiced cinnamon, and the face of a model, Madison
was noticeable. Less than ten yards away was the man she had dated four months ago. She wouldn’t even
call it a relationship. Three dates: First was dinner, second was movie, then came finding the booty.
She grinned at the memory, but when she sneaked a second look, her heart nearly stopped. Next to him
was Robert, whom she’d dated right before Keith. “Dammit, this city is getting too fucking small,” she
groaned and scooted farther down in her seat.
Lauren smirked at her friend’s distress. She was wiggling faster than a fish caught in a net. “Weren’t you
dating Keith the same time you were dating Robert and Carlton? You and Keith were getting hot and heavy
there for a minute. Wow girl, what happened between you two? You never did tell us. Did you give him
one of your breakup speeches?” She fired the questions rapidly at her friend. Madison’s breakup
speeches were a running joke with the group. Madison cocked her head and gave her a blank look. “You
know what? Maybe I should call him over and ask him. I’m sure Keith will spill the beans,” she teased, then
motioned as if she was getting up.
“No!” Madison and LaShawn shouted at the same time. LaShawn glared at her friends. “Why can’t we go
out and have a good time? It’s the same thing every time we go out, bicker, bicker, bicker. You guys fight
worse than four-year-olds,” she scolded. “You’ve always been like that. Remember that first yoga class?”
Madison rolled her eyes in response. “Y’all fought over the yoga mats.”
“It was my mat, I had just bought it. I had set it down for a second, then when I went to pick it up, Miss
Sticky Fingers had taken it.”
“It was my mat!” Lauren insisted.
“Stop it, you two!”
“I’m sorry. I guess we get carried away,” Lauren said. “We’ll be good,” she promised, then reached into
her purse and pulled out a white medicine bottle. Without glancing right or left, she flipped off the lid and
popped two quarter-size pills in her mouth, which she quickly followed with a swallow of her martini.
Madison’s love life was forgotten as LaShawn, Madison, and Blair shot furtive glances at one another.
Madison raised her eyebrows at LaShawn, who jutted her chin at Blair. “What’s wrong sweetie? You sick or
something?” Blair asked.
Lauren shook her head. “Not really, I’ve had this headache for a couple of weeks now and it won’t go
away,” she answered, then glanced over at Madison, who had by now inched her way up in her seat, but
was still occasionally glancing over her shoulder toward the bar.
“Oh Lord,” LaShawn groaned, as she discreetly glanced down at her watch. It was getting late and she
needed to call her fiancé for their nightly prayer session. “We all hope you feel better. Let’s pray,” she
announced and bowed her head, thus missing the annoyed looks from her friends. “Heavenly Father,”
LaShawn began, “please free Lauren from her pain. Please take away her affliction so that she can walk
through life with a clear and unencumbered mind and spirit. Fill her soul with peace and happiness. And
please, Lord bless everyone here tonight, especially Blair on her birthday. In Jesus’ name we pray, amen,”
she finished.
Madison turned to LaShawn. “So how’s Calvin doing? Did you finally decide to give him some?” she asked.
“Madison!” Lauren and Blair shrieked. LaShawn’s decision to be celibate wasn’t something they talked
about. It was like crazy relatives. The whole family knew they existed, but they were never mentioned.
“What?” Madison asked, feigning innocence. “As if you guys weren’t thinking it. Come on…do you really
think she’s gonna wait until the wedding night?” Blair and Lauren couldn’t meet her eyes. Madison turned
her attention back to LaShawn. “So?” she pressed.
LaShawn swallowed a retort. Three years ago when she walked in on her then fiancé, Troy, screwing his
secretary on his office couch as though they were two rabbits on crack, she had dumped him. After that,
she decided to wait until marriage before any man even got a glimpse of her goodies. There was only one
force strong enough to make her keep her resolve: God.
“Calvin is fine, and my celibacy is fine,” LaShawn answered prissily, but she breathed a little bit easier. She’
d known Madison would get around to asking her about her sex life some time that evening, and at least
now it was done and over with. Now they could move on to another topic.
Lauren shook her head at Madison before she looked across the table at LaShawn. “Hey girl, how’re the
wedding plans? Is there anything we can help you with?”
LaShawn smiled brightly at the question. “Naw, everything is fine. My sister is a big help. I can’t believe
that in another six months I’ll be Mrs. Calvin Worthy,” she whispered dreamily.
Madison snickered and Lauren toed her, the pointy tip of her shoe digging into Madison’s shin, Madison
inhaled a short yelp. “Did you all get fitted for your dresses?” LaShawn asked nonchalantly, but she stared
pointedly at Madison. Something told her Madison hadn’t even tried on her bridesmaid dress. Lauren and
Blair nodded and Madison mumbled under her breath. “What did you say Maddy?”
“I’ll do it next week,” she said. Madison hated the bridesmaid dress. It was lemon colored with yards of
ruffles and made her look like a canary. “So are we all going to yoga this week?” A chorus of protests went
up. “Come on, y’all, don’t be so lazy. Besides where else can you touch your nose with your toes?”
Madison quipped then turned to LaShawn. “I bet that’s something Calvin will be thanking you for on your
honeymoon.”
Just then Leonard traipsed over to their table, his wife Thomaseena at his side. She preferred to be called
Thomas and dressed in men clothes.
“How are the finest ladies in Atlanta doing tonight?” Leonard asked and smiled so brightly that it blanketed
them all in its warmth.
“Hi Miss Lenora!” they chorused together as they took in his appearance. His fingernails were polished a
sultry red, his makeup rivaled any Essence magazine cover model, and he rocked his blond wig as though
he had been born with it.
“I’m loving the shoes,” Madison said as she admired the three-inch-heel, strappy stilettos.
“Thanks, gurl,” Lenora gushed. “Outlet mall…let me know when y’all got time, we can roll up there. I’ll
show y’all where all the bargains are. But it all depends if Tommy lets me get away,” he giggled and shot
“Thomas” a coy look. She winked in response.
“Bet!” Madison smiled, but as soon as the couple was out of earshot, she turned to her friends. “I wonder
who’s the man in bed.”
“Madison!” LaShawn reprimanded.
“I was kinda wondering that, too,” Blair admitted, then turned to Madison since Lauren and LaShawn could
care less. “Maybe they switch off.”
“Maybe.” Madison considered the idea. “Do you think that he dresses up in lingerie and stuff?”
Blair shrugged. “I bet he does…he’s already in full drag.” She glanced across the room at Leonard, who
was greeting some customers. “Check out his makeup, it’s fabulous.”
“I know. Do you think Thomas uses a dil—”
“Okay, enough of this!” LaShawn hissed. “Can’t you find something more enlightening to talk about? Why
does it always have to be about sex with you, Madison?”
“It’s not always about sex,” Madison snapped. “I was just curious. And I bet you all are, too,” she said,
only to be met with silence. “Well, I’ll stop talking about it then.” She was quiet for a moment, then
drawled, “Soooo Blair, what are you and Rich doing for your birthday? Some horizontal action?” she teased,
then gyrated her pelvis as if she was making love.
Blair reddened, drawing attention to her freckles, which looked like flecks of brown paint. “We’re going to
Europe,” she said airily. “We’re going to tour Rome. I can’t wait. We were supposed to go ages ago, on
our honeymoon, but you know how things happen. He said if we had time, we’ll hop over to Paris.” She
shrugged nonchalantly, then stuffed a piece of her birthday cake in her mouth.
“Go ‘head Rich!” Lauren said. “I’m so jealous. Cleve and I haven’t been on a real vacation in years.
Between his business and my job we don’t have the time. I wish we could get away,” she said wistfully.
“You two have the perfect marriage, the perfect house, and the perfect kids. You got it all, girl.” Lauren
sighed, then reached over and clasped Blair’s hand.
Blair smiled weakly. “Oh, thanks. But I think we all have it all,” she said, glancing around the table and then
raising her cup. “We should make a toast.” Blair cocked her head and studied her friends. Her green eyes
flicked over the ladies she loved like sisters. Like her momma used to say, they were tighter than a gaggle
of geese. “To our perfect lives,” she murmured.
There was a moment’s hesitation before a round of cheers went up. The friends shot furtive glances at
one another before gulping down their drinks.
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