Billy was roused from her slumber by the sound of her cell phone’s message alert. Cracking one eye, she looked at the screen and saw she had five missed calls. Figuring they could wait, she tossed the phone to the foot of the king-size bed and rolled over. It was at that moment that she remembered she didn’t have a king-size bed.

Billy leapt up so fast that she was almost airborne. Her eyes frantically looked around the room, trying to figure out where the hell she was. The room was decorated with an expensive bedroom set and plush carpet, but Billy didn’t recognize it. Tossing the covers back, she was relieved to see that she was still fully dressed, with the exception of her boots.

“Don’t worry, your virtue is still intact,” Marcus said, leaning against the bedroom door. He was dressed in a pair of gray sweats and a tank top, showing off his tattooed arms.

“How did I get here?” she asked in a raspy voice.

“On the wings of gossamer,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “No, but seriously, you fell asleep last night during the movie.”

Billy shook the fog from her brain and recalled the events that led to her winding up in Marcus’s bed. After dinner they had gone out for drinks at a lounge uptown, where they danced the night away. Afterward, Marcus had invited her back to his place to watch Imitation of Life. Normally, she wouldn’t have gone back to a guy’s house on the first date, but she felt safe with Marcus. Besides, she had called Jean and given her his license plate number before they’d left the restaurant. Marcus had gone out of his way to make sure she had a good time and she was greatly appreciative of that. It had been quite some time since she had gone out and had a genuinely good time, especially with a man. He scored big points in her book.

“You better not have been in here trying to grope me in my sleep,” she said as she stretched.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. When I grope you, I want you to be wide awake,” he teased her. “By the way, someone has been blowing your phone up all night. I hope you don’t have a crazy boyfriend that’s gonna try to run up in here and pop off.”

“Knock if off,” she said, picking up her phone. The calls were from 212 numbers. Each number had the same prefix, but the last four digits were different. They looked familiar, but she couldn’t place them.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“I hope not,” she said, dialing her voicemail box. Billy listened as the first message played.

“Hello, this message is for Willamina Jefferson. This is Nurse Donna Reid at Harlem Hospital, calling in reference to your sister Yoshibelle Johnson. Please give me a call back at.…”