by Kia
The Price of
Loving A Boss
Kia Jones
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© 2016
Published by Leo Sullivan Presents
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All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Unauthorized reproduction, in any manner, is prohibited.
Chapter One
Diamond
“Girl, shut up about that nigga. If he loved you so much, you wouldn’t be cleaning houses with my single ass,” my friend, Red, said as we loaded the car to head over to our next house to clean. We both worked for a large maid service in New York. Being that we were slightly new to the city, this would have to do for now.
“Hating much?”
“Bitch, ain’t nobody hating on your ass. Trust, if I had a nigga that claimed to be a boss, I would not be cleaning houses with my best friend.”
“He helps me, hoe. Don’t get it twisted. But we’ve only been dating for three months. What do you expect out of a nigga?”
“If you been fucking that nigga, you shouldn’t have to be working. As a maid at that.”
“He helps me with Rena,” I said as I got into the passenger side of the Honda that we shared. It was hot as hell outside, and I had begun to sweat under my uniform just by loading the car for a few minutes.
About six months ago, we had packed up and moved to NYC to follow our dreams of being models. But it didn’t quite work out that way. Within the first month of living in NYC, all of our savings were gone, and we got zero call backs from the modeling agencies that we stood in line for hours to audition for. So, Red and I were forced to take the only job that would take us; Mayhem Maid Services.
Rena, my little sister, couldn’t work. She was only three, and deaf, so I had to keep her in daycare. I couldn’t afford regular daycare, so I had to pay this woman in the project building we lived in, Ms. Livingston. She was like the hood babysitter, and only charged one hundred dollars a week. That was around four hundred a month. Shit, that was better than these centers, charging three hundred a week. Who had that type of money lying around? It was hard as fuck to even come up with that until I met my boyfriend, Davinchi. He basically pays any and everything that has to do with Rena, and tells me to keep the money that I make. That shit comes in handy.
“And that’s it.” Red laughed as she turned out of the Mayhem corporate building.
Every morning at 7 a.m. sharp, we had to come in and grab our supplies. They let Red and I work together since we shared one car. Meaning, we had to split the money and tips, which was cool. We lived together, so it made us no difference.
“How come I never see you complaining when he brings the groceries in? Or when he pays for us to have a girls’ day out? Or when he orders shit for both of us? Huh?” I was so sick of her and her complaining. She never did that in front of him. Ungrateful ass.
“I’m just saying. I know that nigga got more cake than what he gives you. He’s driving a Benz for God sake. We shouldn’t be living in the projects.”
“We?” I asked her.
“We came here together. So yes… we.”
“That don’t mean nothing. You always got something negative to say about my nigga, but you don’t have one. Oops,” I said, putting my hand over my mouth.
As we merged onto the highway, the sun reflected on Red and reminded me why she had her name. Red was literally red. Not light skinned or dark… but red. She wore red hair like Charlie Baltimore, and was skinny like her too. But Red had a fatter ass.
“I’m just looking out for you,” she mumbled, looking at her GPS.
“Where we going today?” I asked, lighting a cigarette.
“Penthouse on Park Avenue.”
“Penthouse? For who?” I asked. We did mansions, condos, luxury townhomes, but had never cleaned a penthouse before.
“Says his name is Lourdy Achul,” she said, handing me the paper and the blueprint of his penthouse.
“Damn, is this one penthouse or like a whole apartment complex?” I asked, looking at the square footage.
“Nah. That’s all him. They said it would take us all day. That’s why we only had one house today.”
“Damn.”
Chapter Two
Davinchi
“Baby, come ooooon. Let me show you something,” Patricia said as we sat in my car on the side of her apartment building. I had just picked her up from work, and was trying to drop her off and get gone, but she had other plans.
“Patricia, yo, I’m good. Gotta make moves, and I can’t do that laid up with you all the time. I’ll be back.”
She didn’t hear shit I said. She was steadily trying to get me out the car by tugging on my arm. Now she would think I did her wrong if I just drove off on her ass and dragged her down the street with my whip.
“Just for a minute,” she lied.
She always said that, and before I knew it, I would be fucking her ass all day. Not today.
“What you tryna do, Pat? Huh? You wanna suck a nigga dick? Do that shit later, dawg. I got to make a drop off and you playing.”
“Whatever, probably about to go to some bitch house,” she said as she pulled away from me and shut my door.
I loved to see her walking away. The way her ass bounced made my dick rise. You know what? I had a little time.
“Yo, Pat!” I yelled after her, letting my window down. She turned around and smiled, flashing the dimples on her chocolate face.
“What?”
“Here I come,” I said as I deaded the engine and jogged up the staircase.
“I knew you would give in,” she said, taking my hand and leading me up the stairs.
“What’s up, boss? Let me holla at ya,” a junkie said as we entered the building and walked past him on the staircase. He was one of my most loyal customers. He’s been a junkie since the late 80’s.
“What’s up, Fred, my mans?” I responded as I turned around and looked back. Before I could respond, Pat pulled me into her apartment and shut the door.
“Damn, you want it that bad?” I asked as she took her clothes off and pushed me on the bed.
Pat was into that kinky shit, that’s one of the reasons why I fucked with her.
“Yeah,” she said, kissing me all over and handcuffing me to the bed. Then she stood up and put her clothes back on.
“What the fuck?” I asked, tugging at the railing.
“So you thought I wasn’t gonna find out about that Diamond bitch?” she asked, pulling out a belt.
“Yo, chill,” I said, trying to escape her crazy-ass. Shit! Should have stuck with my first mind and left.
“Huh?” she asked as she landed the first whip across my stomach.
“Bitch! When I get loose,I’m—”
She slapped the belt across my face. “Shut the fuck up.”
“Let’s talk about this, B. You ain’t gotta do the game like—”
“Who the fuck is Diamond?” she asked with a crazed look. I know this dick ain’t have this bitch possessed like that.
“I don’t know no damn D—”
“Lie again! I saw you leaving her crib the other night!”
“Fuck that, I ain’t saying shit ’til you untie me, bitch. You gonna have to let me go sooner or later,” I taunted as my skinned swelled with belt marks all over my stomach.
This hoe was real mad. I could tell by the way she used
all her might to whip my ass. I had something for that, though. This bitch ain’t have to worry ’bout me no fucking more. And that was my word.
“Oh, you gonna talk,” she said as she sent the whips back to back.
Though it hurt like a bitch, I stood my ground. I knew she would get tired, and I knew she wouldn’t leave me here. When she finally saw that I wouldn’t give in, she began to whip my face. I don’t know where the strength came from, but I snatched my hand so hard and broke the right handcuff. Now I was whooping her ass with one hand with the rest of my body still cuffed to the bed. I grabbed her hair and swung her all over the bed without losing my grip.
“Untie me, hoe, or I’ll kill you in this bitch and claim self defense. You know I ain’t lying,” I hissed as I watched the blood drip from her mouth.
She hesitated for a minute, then took the key out of her bra and unlocked all the cuffs.
“Come here, bitch,” I said as I grabbed the belt and chased her around the apartment with it. Had me all out of breath and shit.
I tried to yank her back, but ended up ripping her whole dress off. When she was finally backed into a corner, I whipped her ass like she was my daughter and had just stolen money.
“Help! Somebody help!” she yelled.
I grabbed her by the hair and put my hands over her mouth. She tried to fight me off, but ended up falling on her stomach, bringing me down with her.
“Shut the fuck up!” I yelled as I banged her head into the floor. “Didn’t I tell you to learn ya mothafucking place and stop playing with a real nigga?”
I unzipped my pants and pulled my dick out. Instead of sticking it in her pussy, I stuffed the whole thing in her asshole. She had me fucked up if she thought everything was about to be copacetic after she had just whipped me like a slave.
“Ahhhh!” she screamed into my hand, which was still over her mouth.
I stuck my dick as far as it would go. I decided to take my anger out on her this way because if I beat her ass like I wanted to, I would have killed her stupid ass. I fucked her hard as I’d ever done before, and the tears on my hand told me that.
“Don’t cry now,” I said as I wrapped my hands around her neck, trying not to choke the life out of her. Only the Lord knows how bad I wanted to kill her. “Umph,” I moaned as I went deeper and deeper.
This was actually starting to feel good to me. I reached my hand down and squeezed on her fat ass, but I still had the other hand over her mouth. Just as I was about to cum, I pulled my dick out and stuffed it to the back of her throat.
“Bite my shit if you want to and I’ll kill ya,” I said when I saw her facial expression change, like she was about to clamp down on my dick.
After I emptied off my load in her mouth, I zipped my pants back up and left her on the ground like the hoe she was. That was one crazy ass bitch. Can you believe that’s the type of shit she liked? I know, it fucked me up at first too. I bet she didn’t see that coming, though. I laughed to myself as I walked out to my car and slid in.
Chapter Three
Diamond
“Oh my sweet Jesus,” Red said as we walked into the penthouse that overlooked the entire city of New York, New Jersey… and some more shit. It overlooked life.
“It’s three stories. How in the hell are we going to clean all of this in one day?” I asked as I set my cleaning bag on the marble countertop.
“That’s why I paid for two days of cleaning,” a deep voice said.
It scared me because our job gave us the key and told us that no one would be there. I turned around and saw a man who stood about 6’4”, chocolate, big, with almond brown eyes, smooth skin, dreads to the middle of his back, and a smile out of this world.
“Are you Mr. Lourdy?” Red asked.
“No, I’m his brother, Yazz. Nice to meet you two,” he said, extending both hands to us.
We shook his hand.
“Just call me Gee. I hate the name Lourdy,” another man said, coming in behind Yazz.
He was the same height and had the same good looks, but he had a low cut fade with a full beard that only a grown and sexy man could rock. The color of his wavy hair was jet black like the beard. His chocolate skin was captivating. His handsomeness made me uncomfortable.
“And you are…”
I shook myself out of my trance when I realized Yazz had asked us a question. “I’m Diamond.”
“And I’m Red.”
“Well, ladies, let me show you around,” Yazz said as Gee walked away and got on the phone.
“Diamond,” Red said, bringing my attention back on her and Yazz, “this way.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, and followed them downstairs to the first floor.
“Whatever you ladies do, do not put bleach on anything but the toilets. For the floors, use water and vinegar,” he said.
“Where is the master bedroom?” Red asked.
“This is the master bedroom.”
“Wow,” I said under my breath.
The entrance was on the middle floor because the entire first floor was the master bedroom. It had its own lounge area, study, and movie section. We walked to the bathroom and saw that the Jacuzzi tub gave the perfect view of the city. It sat right in the center of the glass window, and had three stairs that led to it.
“Between me and y’all, this place isn’t even that dirty. My brother is just a neat freak,” Yazz joked with us as he continued to show us the rest of the house.
After showing us everything, he and Gee had to leave. They had just stopped by to make sure we did everything right. They both had on suits, so they probably had a meeting to go to.
“Y’all need anything?” Yazz asked. We shook our heads. I still had my eyes on Gee as he went through the fridge and pulled out a gallon of water. “Speak now, or forever hold your peace.”
“We’re okay,” Red said.
“If you ladies get hungry, please help yourself to my kitchen,” Gee said, drinking the water from the jug.
“No, thanks. We will get fired,” Red said.
“Not if we don’t tell. Help yourselves. See you two later,” Yazz said as he and Gee left out the front door.
Red looked at me and smiled. “Wow,” is all she said as we looked at the penthouse again and caught our breath.
“Must be nice,” I said as I grabbed my bags and prepared to start on the top floor, then work my way down.
Chapter Four
Yazz
“This meeting is a waste of time and you know it,” I said to Gee as the elevator landed us in the parking garage.
“Where is your confidence?”
“I have none. Not in the corporate world. This ain’t our thing. We have more money than them anyway, we don’t need them to cosign for us,” I said as I got into the passenger side of his Range Rover.
“True. But this is the only company that’s willing to look past the fact that we don’t have pay stubs or proof of income to even start our own business.”
“I keep telling you how to get past all of that, but you won’t listen.”
“Not happening.”
“And why not? It will be easy. Just find an American girl, pay her, and marry her. You will be a U.S citizen in two years,” I said.
My brother was in the process of starting companies to wash his dirty money, but us not being U.S citizens would surely be the downfall of it all. The U.S government worked in mysterious ways. They seemed more gangsta than the real gangstas. Shit, they were the real gangstas. In so many words, they told us that an illegal immigrant wouldn’t come to their country and make all of the money we were sure to make on top of our dirty money.
“I don’t trust these American bitches. They get mad, and destroy niggas here,” he said, igniting the engine. “Besides, I have a woman.”
“But she’s in Paris.”
“Don’t mean I will cheat.”
“Getting married isn’t cheating. Find a gold digging bitch and pay her. These American hoes love money.”
/> “Nah.”
“All I’m saying is, ain’t much you can do being illegal. What? You tryna get us sent back to Haiti?”
“You marry one of these bitches then. Tell me how it works out,” he said, putting the truck into reverse.
“Oh, I plan to. I’m not about to be looking over my back, wondering when they gonna deport my ass back to Haiti. You can. I’m not.”
“You know it’s not that easy anymore, right?” he asked
“What you mean?”
“They make the two of you go to counseling now to see if it’s real or not. So you’d have to actually get to know the bitch.”
“Yeah? Well, that’s cool too. I can have a new sex slave,” I teased. My woman was back in Haiti, so I too wasn’t in the business of looking for love. Just citizenship.
“If Kasha wasn’t so goddamned independent, she could have been here with me,” he said as we pulled up to a red light.
Kasha was his woman who lived in Paris. They had been together since they were kids. Only problem was, Gee’s dream was to come to the U.S. Hers was to study over in France, but she ended up liking it, so she stayed. She still visited frequently, she just wasn’t willing to give up the life she had built in Paris for Gee. I couldn’t blame her, though. She had established a big name for herself and was getting cake. Sometimes I wondered what Gee saw in her. She was way too independent. Didn’t need Gee for a damned thing. Everything she asked for was out of greed because she for damn sure was packing. I liked my bitches to depend on me. That’s what a man was put on earth for… to provide.
“I don’t think I want Frizzy here. I like us just the way we are. We have passports, so we can see each other, but I don’t think I would want her living here,” I confessed.
I loved my woman, but the distance did us good. Besides, if she lived here, she would have me sent back to Haiti when she saw how much pussy I was getting. I know her, so I know she’d do it. Frizzy was crazy. That’s why I never let her know where I lived. I always came to her. NYC was a huge city, so I wasn’t worried about her finding me.
