Maya.”
“Yes, but through an agency. He should have the agency’s phone number, not my cell.”
“Maybe Cecilia wasn’t the only one with the housemaid-to-housewife idea.”
“Don’t make me throw up, and you’re missing my point. Sam Walters doesn’t know Maya, he knows Martha!”
“Not necessarily. You said he’s into real estate. Maybe he’s checking B&A out like y’all are checking him out. Having your number probably has to do with your working with Zeke.”
Trish putting it that way made perfect sense. What Maya was about to tell her, did not. “Your logic is quite sound except for one thing….” She paused dramatically and Trish, understanding how to follow the script, remained silent.
“Sam Walters knows Sean Wynn.”
Trish sat back and crossed her arms. “All that dramatic buildup and that’s the punch line? That the man you work for knows the man you’re sleeping with?”
“Sleep would be the operative word,” Maya said, leaning forward to deliver the punch line. “I saw Sean asleep in Sam’s bed this morning.”
Trish blinked her eyes rapidly for several seconds, saying nothing. “Uh-uh,” is what came out when she finally found her voice.
Maya gave Trish the details of what had unfolded that morning, ending with her running away faster than Marion Jones.
“That’s why I couldn’t take it anymore,” Maya continued. “I had to talk to you about this crazy situation so you can help me figure out what’s going on.”
“Let me get this straight. You found your man asleep in another man’s bed, and you need my help to see what’s up? C’mon now, Maya. Miss J didn’t raise no fools.”
“What?” Maya asked honestly.
Trish looked at her pointedly.
“You think Sean’s sleeping with Sam?” Maya laughed nervously. “Uh-uh, no way. There’s no way Sean’s gay.”
“Who knows? He may be traveling on the bi-way.”
Maya sat back stunned. Sean gay, or even bi? It didn’t make sense. And if he was, how did he play into what Sam was doing in L.A.’s world of real estate? Was he involved? Did he come over from London with Sam? Were they partners, in more ways than one? “I need a drink,” Maya said finally. She signaled over the waiter and instead of the tea she’d been drinking, ordered a glass of pinot noir.
Trish ordered one as well and in between sips, they discussed possible reasons behind the Sam/Sean liaison.
“He said he was in town on business, right?”
Maya nodded yes. “I told you he’s a private investigator.”
“You didn’t tell me that!”
“I didn’t?”
“You’ve been seriously holding out on your girl. See what happens when you don’t keep a sista informed? You get hoodwinked, bamboozled—”
“Whatever, Trish.”
“He’s got to be either working for, or sleeping with, or both, your boy Sam.”
Maya thought for a moment and then slowly shook her head. “No. And I’m not trying to be in denial about Sean’s possible booty bumping. I just don’t feel it, and I think I would.”
“Yeah, Terry McMillan probably thought she would too.”
“Trish, that is wrong on so many levels.”
“I’m just saying…”
“And I’m just saying Sean Wynn is not gay. Look, this is complicated enough as it is. Let’s just go from the premise that he isn’t, for now. That would mean he’s working for or with Sam. Which makes sense because Sam’s trying to get in on the real estate action. He’s probably got Sean checking out all the…”
“All the what?”
Maya’s eyes narrowed as she continued. “All the players in the L.A. real estate game. Which includes B&A, which means Zeke Brennan, which means me. Oh my gosh, Trish, do you think Sean knows who I really am? That all this time he’s been playing me just to get the 411 for Sam Walters?”
Maya’s confusion turned to hurt and then anger, all in the space of about thirty seconds. It had been enough to find out Sean was acquainted with the very man she’d been spying
“Yes, but through an agency. He should have the agency’s phone number, not my cell.”
“Maybe Cecilia wasn’t the only one with the housemaid-to-housewife idea.”
“Don’t make me throw up, and you’re missing my point. Sam Walters doesn’t know Maya, he knows Martha!”
“Not necessarily. You said he’s into real estate. Maybe he’s checking B&A out like y’all are checking him out. Having your number probably has to do with your working with Zeke.”
Trish putting it that way made perfect sense. What Maya was about to tell her, did not. “Your logic is quite sound except for one thing….” She paused dramatically and Trish, understanding how to follow the script, remained silent.
“Sam Walters knows Sean Wynn.”
Trish sat back and crossed her arms. “All that dramatic buildup and that’s the punch line? That the man you work for knows the man you’re sleeping with?”
“Sleep would be the operative word,” Maya said, leaning forward to deliver the punch line. “I saw Sean asleep in Sam’s bed this morning.”
Trish blinked her eyes rapidly for several seconds, saying nothing. “Uh-uh,” is what came out when she finally found her voice.
Maya gave Trish the details of what had unfolded that morning, ending with her running away faster than Marion Jones.
“That’s why I couldn’t take it anymore,” Maya continued. “I had to talk to you about this crazy situation so you can help me figure out what’s going on.”
“Let me get this straight. You found your man asleep in another man’s bed, and you need my help to see what’s up? C’mon now, Maya. Miss J didn’t raise no fools.”
“What?” Maya asked honestly.
Trish looked at her pointedly.
“You think Sean’s sleeping with Sam?” Maya laughed nervously. “Uh-uh, no way. There’s no way Sean’s gay.”
“Who knows? He may be traveling on the bi-way.”
Maya sat back stunned. Sean gay, or even bi? It didn’t make sense. And if he was, how did he play into what Sam was doing in L.A.’s world of real estate? Was he involved? Did he come over from London with Sam? Were they partners, in more ways than one? “I need a drink,” Maya said finally. She signaled over the waiter and instead of the tea she’d been drinking, ordered a glass of pinot noir.
Trish ordered one as well and in between sips, they discussed possible reasons behind the Sam/Sean liaison.
“He said he was in town on business, right?”
Maya nodded yes. “I told you he’s a private investigator.”
“You didn’t tell me that!”
“I didn’t?”
“You’ve been seriously holding out on your girl. See what happens when you don’t keep a sista informed? You get hoodwinked, bamboozled—”
“Whatever, Trish.”
“He’s got to be either working for, or sleeping with, or both, your boy Sam.”
Maya thought for a moment and then slowly shook her head. “No. And I’m not trying to be in denial about Sean’s possible booty bumping. I just don’t feel it, and I think I would.”
“Yeah, Terry McMillan probably thought she would too.”
“Trish, that is wrong on so many levels.”
“I’m just saying…”
“And I’m just saying Sean Wynn is not gay. Look, this is complicated enough as it is. Let’s just go from the premise that he isn’t, for now. That would mean he’s working for or with Sam. Which makes sense because Sam’s trying to get in on the real estate action. He’s probably got Sean checking out all the…”
“All the what?”
Maya’s eyes narrowed as she continued. “All the players in the L.A. real estate game. Which includes B&A, which means Zeke Brennan, which means me. Oh my gosh, Trish, do you think Sean knows who I really am? That all this time he’s been playing me just to get the 411 for Sam Walters?”
Maya’s confusion turned to hurt and then anger, all in the space of about thirty seconds. It had been enough to find out Sean was acquainted with the very man she’d been spying
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