"You're such a whore."

"Whore's get paid. What I did last night was strictly personal and free of charge."

"And he's still in your condo?"

A smug grin crossed Shara's face.

"Why would you leave him in your crib?"

"What is he going to do, rob me? Apparently, he's worth a helluva lot more than my Ikea furniture and dime store crystals."

"I don't know." Deena, Shara's best friend, slowed her jog to a brisk walk. "I wouldn't trust any nigga in my house, famous or not."

"It was a one night stand. He'll be gone when I get back, and I won't see him again so, it doesn't matter."

Pausing their morning routine, Deena placed her hands on her hips, then asked, "Why did you do it?"

"What, fuck Calvin?"

"Oh, so he's all of a sudden, "Calvin?"

Shara laughed.

"That must have been some mean dick. You didn't even know he existed until last night, and now you're calling that man by his government name?"

"Cali Cal just sounds so... corny."

"He's a comedian. It should."

"Well, it does, and I can't bring myself to say it."

"I get you out the house for the first time in eons and you throw your dusty pussy in a celebrity's face. Man, I need your guts."

"I didn't throw anything. He came on to me, remember?"

"Umm-hmm... at least you didn't deny the real truth."

"Which is?"

"That your pussy could've triggered an asthma attack."

Shara and Deena erupted into laughter before continuing their run. As they slowed their pace and ended their morning exercise on the sidewalk outside of Shara's condo, Deena asked. "So, what happens now?"

Shara replied. "Now, I kill this mock trial because Vance won't let me forget it if I don't."

"I told you Professor Larson was trouble."

"You did, but he was fine ass trouble, worth the risk, until he wasn't."

"That man is still in lust with you."

"Well, that's his new wife's problem, not mine."

"You think she suspects you were the one she was competing with for his affection?"

"Who knows. Maybe I should ask the next time she and I have lunch."

Deena replied. "I'm not going there with you, Shara."

"Why not. It was your idea for me not to tell her him and I were fucking when he proposed."

"Her father is the university president. You really thought that would go over well?"

"I'm the best student in my class. They couldn't get rid of me if they tried."

"More like, Daddy Warbucks wouldn't let them if they wanted to."

"Leave my father out of this. Where Vance puts his diddle stick is on him, and I was no longer into letting him continue to poke me and Farah. I know I gave you a hard time, but it was actually best for me not to let her know how much of a snake he is. She'll find out in her own time, and I have better things to do than to ruin another woman's wet dream."

"Yeah, like screw celebrities. Talk about fucking, up. There's not a woman I know who wouldn't blow Cali Cal."

"Well, I have no regrets. My pent up tension has been released, the sex was damn good, and there's no strings attached."

Deena urged. "At least watch the guy's movies or his specials. He's actually talented outside of the bedroom."

Shara kissed Deena on the cheek, then replied. "I know all I need to know about "Cali Cal," and I don't have any desire to see him again, even if it's on my tv. Love you, and I'll chat with you later. Smith versus Haverty calls."

On the way to her condo, Shara caught sight of a few unfamiliar faces in the lobby. She brushed it off as she grabbed her mail, then hopped onto the elevator. As the doors closed, a stubby guy with an equally as stubbled beard joined her.

She offered an obligatory smile, then eased into one of the compartment's small corners. Three floors up, the stranger cleared his throat. Focused on her phone, Shara nestled into her "safe space," while continuing to scroll through case text.

"Excuse me, ma'am."

Her eyelids raised like automatic blinds as she stoically peered in his direction.

Taken aback by her blank gaze, the strange man hesitated before offering her a business card. Her statuesque demeanour spoke loudly enough for him to get the message and return it to his wrinkled khaki pocket.

"I'm with the Virtual Gazzette and was wondering if you've seen comedian Cali Cal in this building over the last 24 hours."

The elevator doors opened and closed without Shara uttering a word.

"I'm only asking because I have a source that says he was here." Waggling his bushy brows, he continued. "I could make you famous if you saw him or knew who he was with."

Shara finally entertained the conversation. "You have exactly one stop until I call security."

"Ma'am, I'm sorry. I don't mean any harm. Really, I don't. I'm new to the staff and this is my chance to prove I'm a good reporter."

As the doors parted on her floor, Shara began to dial. The stranger's face became a slight shade of pink with each rapid breath he inhaled and released.
He finally belted out, "You don't have to do that."

"Then I suggest you make yourself scarce, or you're going to get more than a celebrity scoop."

"Yes, ma'am."

Shara stepped away from the pinging threshold and waited before walking two doors down to her condo. She smirked, thinking Calvin must have really been a big deal. She then laughed as she compared sleeping with a college professor to a real life celebrity.

Besides the intense energy and ethereal sex with Calvin, there wasn't much to compare. And now with a bonafide famous person on her "done" list, she had really fucked, up, and was glad she did.

The moment she opened her door, the phone rang. She was tempted to ignore it, as she had done for months, but after talking to Deena, she decided that it was time to end the connection with Vance once and for all.

"What do you want?"

"Hello to you too."

"What, Vance? I'm busy."

"Too busy to respond to my calls or texts for weeks?"

"It's been months and no, not that busy. I've been ignoring you."

"Why?"

Shara kicked off her shoes, removed her socks, then rolled her eyes. "Don't you have a wife you need to be conversing with?"

"That's one reason I've been trying to call. She's pregnant."

The sour patch expression Shara displayed was matched by the pitch of her tone. "So?"

"I wanted you to hear it from me, first."

Her heart raced as she declared. "I don't care, Vance."

"Not even a little bit?"

"I can't even fake a basket of fucks. So, unless you have something to discuss with me that's relevant to class, stop wasting your breath and time."

"But I miss you."

"You made your choice. Live with it."

"You never let me explain. Farah–"

Cringing at the sound of him saying his wife's name, Shara interjected. "Bye, Vance."

"Shara, don't hang up, please."

She took in a deep breath, then released a deeper sigh. Her silence quickly became permission for Vance to further plead his case.

"I'm sorry about screwing over our relationship, marrying Farah, even this baby. Things are complicated, and I just want at least one final face to face, outside of class, to speak my peace. Could you do that for me, for us?"

"That's the thing, Vance. I don't owe you that. I don't owe you anything. I'm already at peace, and I'm not willing to sacrifice that for some pathetic attempt for you to find your own."

Shara stepped out of her shorts and panties, then with one arm, pulled her damp tank and sports bra over her head. The moment she tossed the clothes in her laundry basket, she opened her bathroom door, froze, then dropped her phone as she released a blood curdling scream.