Too Close for Comfort

by La Jill Hunt

  “Is this where we’re supposed to be?” Gabrielle asked. “I think we’re the only people here; I don’t see anyone else.”

  “Yeah. The girl outside said the door at the end of the hallway. Come on.” Yaya looked around.

  “I don’t even see a door,” Sophia said.

  They walked a little further and, sure enough, came upon a door. Yaya knocked and opened it at the same time.

  “Welcome, ladies!” Diesel called out to them.

  “Where the hell are we?” Yaya asked. “What is this place?”

  “It’s The Rouge,” Diesel told her.

  They entered into a huge room. The walls were covered in mirrors and lights. There was a bar that spanned the entire length of the back wall, and a stage just as large in the front. On one end there was a DJ booth.

  “It’s a new club that’s about to open in a few weeks. No one knows about it yet, except for the people coming tonight, so consider yourselves lucky. Come on, I’ll show you to the back, where you can get changed.”

  Diesel led them behind the stage area and into a large dressing room, where trays of fruit and bottled water awaited them. There was even a large vase of tulips, which he picked up and gave to her.

  Yaya smiled. “For me?”

  “I know they’re your favorite.” He reached into the inside pocket of the black linen jacket he wore with his dark jeans, and placed an envelope in her hands.

  She placed it into her Coach purse, without even opening it, knowing it held her normal fee, plus an added bonus. Diesel always hooked her up.

  “You have about an hour to get changed, and then I can take you all onstage once everyone gets here.”

  “Diesel, you haven’t even told me how you want me to do their faces. I know you have a theme,” Yaya told him. “Where are the other dancers?”

  “These two are it, and they won’t be dancing.”

  “Oh, hell no! What are we gonna be doing then?” Sophia looked like she was about to walk out.

  “Modelling.”

  “What are they wearing?” Yaya asked, now curious herself.

  “Their bodies.” He smiled. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

  They followed him out the door and onto the stage. The curtains were closed, but they could hear male voices on the other side. Toward the front of the stage, in the middle, there were two white leather sofas and a nice-size oval table with buckets and brushes.

  Yaya walked over and looked at the buckets and saw that it was paint. She realized what it is he wanted her to do. She looked over at Diesel and smiled at him. “You are crazy,” she said.

  “That shit is gonna be so hot.” He nodded, seeing that she understood what he wanted.

  “Come on, ladies,” she told them. “Let’s go get ready.”

  “I still don’t get it.” Gabrielle sighed.

  “Don’t worry,” Yaya assured her, “it’s gonna be fun.”

  Diesel left the room, saying he’d be back to get them once the party got into full swing.

  They went back into the dressing room, where Yaya changed her clothes. She went into her bag and took out a pair of scissors, removed the hundred-seventy-dollar jeans she wore, and began cutting them.

  “What are you doing?” Sophia asked, wide-eyed.

  “Getting my costume ready.” Yaya laughed.

  Satisfied with her creation, she put on what were now short shorts with ravels hanging. She told the girls to undress completely, down to their panties. She was happy to see that they both wore lace thongs. She then oiled both their bodies down.

  As she worked, her phone began ringing. She checked and saw that Jason was calling for the hundredth time. He had been calling, upset that she wasn’t attending the retreat with him. He even tried to convince her to meet him Sunday morning, which she declined. She was beginning to see more and more that maybe there was some truth to what Monya and Taryn were telling her. She ignored the call and kept working.

  Diesel’s head popped in the door. “You guys ready?”

  Yaya saw his eyes bulge when he saw the half-naked woman standing in the middle of the floor.

  “No, she hasn’t even started the make-up,” Gabrielle said.

  “I’m not doing make-up,” Yaya said. She checked herself in the mirror. “Diesel, grab that bag and carry it out to the table for me. And I know you got me a drink waiting.”

  “Apple Martini with a double-shot of Grey Goose already waiting for you, baby.” He grabbed the bag she was pointing to.

  They walked back onto the stage. The music was on full blast now.

  “What song you want?”

  “Something slow and seductive to begin with.” She winked. She changed into a pair of black pumps and tied her blouse into a midriff shirt.

  “Damn! Y’all are sexy as hell. These guys are about to flip the hell out,” Diesel told them.

  They went out and took their places on the stage. Yaya told each lady to choose a sofa, lie down, and strike a sexy pose. She took a swallow of her drink and nodded to let Diesel know she was ready.

  “What’s up, fellas? You know we’re glad you all decided to come out and hang with us, and since you’re here, we want you to eat, drink and be entertained,” Diesel said into the microphone.

  Someone yelled from the crowd, “That’s right, D!”

  “We know you got something for us, Diesel. Bring it on!”

  “A’ight, a’ight. I wanted to do something unique, so I called up a friend of mine and asked her to come out here and do what she does best. So I present to you, Ms. Yaya and Mystique!”

  The lights dimmed, and slowly the curtain opened.

  Yaya could hear the opening music of Janet Jackson’s “Any Time, Any Place.” She opened the can of paint and poured it into a small bowl. She glanced up at the audience and stretched seductively. As she looked out, she saw faces of professional athletes and rappers that she had seen over the years. Damn! It’s some ballers up in here!

  Yaya walked over to Sophia and took each of her arms into her hands, then placed them over her head. “Arch your back,” Yaya told her softly. “Now lay back and smile softly.”

  Sophia looked at her, doing what she was told. “What are you about to do?”

  “Paint you.” Yaya took a brush, dipped it into the paint, and then placed it on Sophia’s body, using soft strokes. The bronze color tinted her skin immediately.

  “Daaaaaammmmmmnnnnn!” Men screamed as Yaya painted.

  She began to concentrate on her task at hand, as a techno beat pumped along with Janet’s singing. The lighting changed, and a red spotlight was on them.

  Yaya took turns, sensually painting each of their bodies. It was a truly artistic experience, and Yaya enjoyed it.

  The men seemed to be hypnotized by what she was doing, especially when she lifted breasts and spread their legs to paint.

  They are so pitiful. All I’m doing is putting bronze paint on these women, and they are gawking like they’ve never seen a nipple before.

  Camera phones were everywhere, and Gabrielle and Sophia even posed and smiled.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Yaya heard one man say. “What’s your name?”

  Yaya turned to see one of the country’s hottest rappers talking to her. “Qianna.”

  “That’s what’s up.” He raised his drink to her.

  As if they were just now discovering that she could talk, men began walking up to the stage, making comments and asking Yaya and the girl’s questions.

  They had a blast, being the center of attention, and Yaya was in her element. She couldn’t help noticing that the few women in attendance didn’t seem pleased with their artistic display.

  “Excuse me, Ms. Yaya, how much would you charge to do my lady friend right here for me?” One guy pointed to a lady who was holding on to his arm so tight, it looked like she was made on to it.

  Yaya recognized him as a player for the Lakers. She had been to a couple of parties that he had been to.
The woman on his arm wasn’t the wife he was usually with.

  “I didn’t say I wanted to do that.” The girl turned her nose up at Yaya and then looked at him.

  “Fine then.” He removed his arm from hers.

  Another girl was walking by, and he spoke to her, whispering into her ear.

  The girl laughed and nodded her head.

  He looked back at Yaya. “Ms. Yaya, how much would you charge me to paint her?”

  Yaya looked up from Sophia’s legs. “A thousand dollars.”

  “Done!” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash.

  “You’re serious?” She looked over at the girl he was pointing to, a pretty young woman who looked to be no more than nineteen.

  “I don’t mind,” the girl said, looking eager.

  “You can go get changed in the back then.” Yaya pointed.

  The first female hissed at the basketball player. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? How are you going to just push me aside like I’m a nobody?”

  “You are.” He laughed. “You ain’t nobody special, besides, I would rather see her painted than you anyway—she has a better ass.”

  The woman stormed away in anger, as the crowd of men laughed.

  “You know you were wrong.” Yaya shook her head at the guy.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Yaya, but ol’ girl needs to remember her place. She’s up in here acting like she ain’t paid to be here.” He laughed. “No disrespect to you or your beautiful models up there, but with you all we know your sole purpose is entertainment for the party. With ol’ girl, she’s entertainment for the afterparty, know what I mean, fellas?”

  “True dat, man.”

  The guys around him laughed.

  Yaya turned her attention back to Sophia and Gabrielle, telling them they could go ahead and change into their clothes, and mingle with the guests if they wanted to.

  “Uh, can I just wear a robe?” Sophia looked down at her bronze body. “I’m not putting my BCBG dress over this paint. Is this stuff even gonna wash off?”

  “Girl, yeah, it’ll wash off, that’s why I oiled you down first. When you jump in the shower, you’ll see.” Yaya laughed. “I’m about to grab something to eat right quick.”

  “Is that girl really gonna get up here?” Gabrielle asked.

  Yaya admired her own artistry. This was a wonderful idea, and she was glad Diesel had thought of it.

  “She says she is, and he’s already paid me.” Yaya laughed. “If she doesn’t, he’s not getting a refund either.”

  “I know that’s right.” Sophia laughed.

  “Excuse me, can I get a picture with you three?” someone asked.

  Yaya looked over at the other girls. “Sure.”

  After posing for several shots, Yaya excused herself. “I’m about to grab something to eat before I start painting again.”

  “Yeah, because it looks like she’s ready.” Gabrielle pointed to the girl peeking from behind the stage.

  Yaya walked over to her. “You don’t have to do this. It’s not a big deal.”

  “No, I’m cool. I’m just glad I wore cute underwear.” The girl laughed.

  “Join the club,” Yaya told her. “What’s your name?”

  “Miriam, but they call me Magic. And, no, I’m not a stripper; it’s a nickname my mom gave me when I was born.”

  “Okay, Magic, let me grab something to eat, and we can go ahead and get started, okay?”

  “That’s cool. Take your time. I won’t be going anywhere.”

  As Yaya was making her plate, Diesel walked up behind her and kissed her neck. “Baby, you know you are the best, right?”

  “That’s what they all say.” She turned around.

  “I must admit, Diesel, this was a hot idea. Those guys are going crazy. I even got another girl to paint.”

  “Who?” He stepped back. “I ain’t paying for another chick.”

  “Calm down, boy. I’ve already been paid.”

  “By who?”

  “Him.” Yaya pointed to the ballplayer who had commissioned her to paint Magic. He was standing at the other end of the buffet table, talking.

  “I’m not surprised. Hell, he brought a couple of his girls for the guys to enjoy after they leave here.”

  “What do you mean?—You make him sound like a pimp.” Yaya laughed and reached for another shrimp.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  Yaya looked over and saw the girl who had declined to be painted earlier, standing with her arms folded. Yaya could see she still had an attitude.

  “So, tell me, what does a brother have to do to get with you?” Yaya heard a guy ask as he walked up to the girl.

  “Excuse me?” The girl scowled at him. “You don’t have enough money to even smell this!”

  “Girl, stop trippin’. I wasn’t even talking about getting no ass. I was trying to take you out on the serious tip, but now that I see you’re a ho, I changed my mind.”

  The girl’s face frowned even harder. “What did you call me?”

  “I said you’re a ho, your mama was a ho, and chances are, your mama’s mama was a ho!” The guy laughed loudly now.

  The girl raised the drink she was holding and tossed it into his face.

  In a flash, the guy reached over and grabbed the buffet table and flipped it on the girl.

  As if in a dream, Yaya stood and watched, unable to move.

  The girl screamed, as she crumbled to the floor, her face and body covered in food.

  Glass shattered, and people began rushing over to see what had happened. Security came from nowhere, grabbing both the guy and the girl and escorting both of them out of the club.

  “Yo, you a’ight?” Diesel asked.

  “Huh?” Yaya was still stunned by what had taken place.

  “Yaya!”

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  Yaya could feel someone staring at her, making her uncomfortable. She turned to see Jason’s best friend, Travis Thorne, standing with a smug grin on his face.

  Chapter 26

  “What do you want?—It’s late, and Myla’s asleep.”

  “I just called to give you my new information.”

  “What new information?”

  “I moved out.”

  “What? When?”

  “Two days ago.”

  Paige sat back, stunned at what Marlon had just told her. She couldn’t believe it. “So what happened?”

  “Nothing major. I just got tired, I guess. I never loved Kasey anyway, you know that.”

  “What about the baby?”

  “What about it? I’m gonna take care of my responsibilities. I don’t have to be with her in order to do that; you should know that, of all people.”

  “And what about your mother?”

  “What about her? She has what she wants now—a full-time nurse, a maid, a companion, and a grandchild all in one.” He laughed.

  “That’s not funny, Marlon. Where are you gonna live?”

  “I got an apartment.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  “When is Myla’s first game?”

  “Saturday after next.”

  “I know she’s excited. When I talked to her the other day, soccer was all she could talk about.”

  “Yeah, I’m sick of hearing about it myself,” Paige told him. It was as if Myla walked, talked, and breathed soccer.

  “I’m glad you let her play. You are doing a great job with her, Paige; I know I don’t tell you that often enough.”

  Paige could see where the conversation was headed. “Thanks, Marlon. Look, I’ll see you at the game in a couple of weeks. I’m glad you are getting yourself together.”

  She hung up the phone and flipped the TV on. She didn’t even realize she had fallen asleep, until Camille walked through the door.

  Camille had been working so hard, that she hardly ever saw her. “Girl, you scared me.” Camille laughed, putting her keys on the coffee table.

  “You must’v
e been up to no good then,” Paige told her. “How’s work?”

  “Work is wonderful!” Camille smiled. “I love it. I love working with Taryn, and I’m learning so much. It’s great!”

  “That’s good. But, Cam, I’m telling you, August is right around the corner, and you’re going back to school. There’s no way I’m going to let you just throw away a free college education. You worked hard for that scholarship. Not only that, but Marlon worked hard helping you as well. You don’t want to disappoint him.”

  Camille looked down at the floor. “I know, Paige. Speaking of Marlon . . . he moved out.”

  “I know. He called and told me.” Paige sighed.

  “Mama has been calling my phone all day leaving crazy messages. She says that we abandoned her and she hates both of us. She says, without her, I’m never going to be anything, like she has anything to do with how far I’ve come in life so far.”

  Paige walked over to Camille and hugged her. It was no secret that Lucille was an awful mother. Paige had witnessed and experienced the worst of times with Camille and her mother, but she also knew that Lucille’s words still hurt.

  The pain in Camille’s face when she told Paige about her mother’s messages, was obvious.

  “Cam, she was drunk. I don’t even have to listen to the messages to know that.”

  “But that’s when she’s the most honest, Paige . . . when she’s all liquored up.” Camille shook her head.

  Paige hated Lucille for the damage she was still causing in Camille’s life. Even though Camille had moved out and moved on with her life, Lucille continued to menace the girl.

  “The sad part is, no matter what I do, how far I try to get away from her, she still won’t just leave me the hell alone.”

  “Camille, there’s nothing you can do or say to change your mother or her ways; she’s just her. What you can do is continue to move ahead and do the right thing and prove her wrong—that’s revenge of the best kind. She can’t take away your success, no matter how hard she tries. You’ve got to know that what God has for you is for you, and your mother and no one else can take that away from you. Believe me, I know,” Paige said with tears in her eyes. “I don’t care what anybody says or does, you are meant to walk in greatness, no matter what. Your happiness is ordained!”