The Deal

Twenty-Four-Bernadette

Armani giggles. "I have a booty call tomorrow night; can't you tell? I'm so excited!" For the past three hours, we have been sitting in the Benz, watching and waiting for my doppelganger to close the store so I can follow her home. Cheaters are one of the things I despise most in the world. Especially the ones who have zero empathy for the people they cheat on. I've been looking at the unclear photo I took of Imani fondling her boss. This made me realize what a hypocrite I am. I was cheating on Thabo and sleeping with his brother, wasn't I? What gives you the right to judge the wrong, Bernadette? I really feel for Krystal, but how do I tell her the ugly truth when she's so broken? Her husband should know better.

"Armani, I hope this guy's of age. Let me remind you, we were followed by police."

She rolls her eyes. "He'll turn twenty-one next year. Gee, come on, darling. I'm not gonna die sexless."

I shake my head. "Whatever floats your boat."

"My boat's definitely going to float tomorrow night."

I scoff. "No details afterward, please. Of all the memories I've lost, the last thing I want to remember is the vivid image of the baby-faced seller in between your—"

The lights at Bongani's Books extinguish as low and behold, Imani, wearing her hat, walks out of the store and locks it; the closed sign showing through the glass.

"It's time," I urge Armani. "Let's follow her."

The music from her Bluetooth flicks off and the engine starts up. We watch in silence as Imani enters a red Uber vehicle. "Explain this story to me really well," Armani blurts out as she puts the gear in drive, moving the car in the direction of the Uber. "You want to follow this bookseller to her apartment because you found out she's having an affair with her married boss. So, his wife told you to find where she lives?"

"Yes," I reply with a sigh.

"Ha. So, this is the shit you've got yourself into. Be careful of the stupid ones, that's all I would have to say. Did the wife give you her address or something? What are you going to do once you find her address? Crawl through the window at night and slit her throat? Ding into her house and rip her furniture to shreds?"

I shrug. "Who knows?"

"Ag man! What if you end up in a murder investigation? Isn't it scary for you?"

I roll my eyes. "Just drive, Armani. I'm tired. It's been a long day."

"Ha. I'm glad you know."

In silence, we cruise through the quiet, sleepy neighborhood; we're a few distance from the Uber in front. We finally park next to a pharmacy store and in front, is a house that looks sort of familiar. The other apartments give me a sense of familiarity as well. Had I paid Imani a visit on the night of the accident? We watch her get out of the Uber. She looks left and right, before finally entering the house.

"My God, she ticks all the boxes. Anyone who does this before entering their house is officially a sociopath behind closed doors."

I furrow my brows at my friend. "How would you know?"

Armani chuckles. "I'm making things up. Look at me, following a stranger to her home and talking as if I'm an expert on people. Darling, when it comes to people, I know one thing about them. They're backstabbers."

I purse my lips as I glare at Armani; a woman whom I've come to know as an onset make-up artist and now a big sister. I love our banter. She's so free to be with, and if I want to keep friends close in my life, I'll have to tell them the truth no matter what. I have no idea who once told me this, but I remember the words from the back of my wounded head. She's helping me commit a crime anyway.