by Mz. Robinson
After several minutes, Randall begin to breathe normally. “Sorry. Panic attack,” he said, panting. “I’m so, so sorry. Doc says it’s PTSD, flashbacks from the war.”
I stood in one place, stunned speechless, my urge to potty now gone.
Tyrese quickly grabbed both duffle bags and his shoes from his bin. “Go,” he mouthed to me. I nodded and proceeded to walk in the direction of our gate.
It was five minutes before we were supposed to board, and Randall was still nowhere to be found. “Maybe I should go back for my brother,” I said.
“No,” Tyrese stated. “He’ll be here.”
When the boarding agent called for our flight, Randall was still nowhere to be found. When our section was called, Tyrese and I got in line. I handed the man my boarding pass, worried that we were about to leave my brother behind.
“I’m comin’, Ana Mae!” I heard Randall call out.
I turned around to see my brother, sitting in a wheelchair, being pushed by a brown-skinned, extremely top-heavy airport employee. The female rolled him up to the counter and stopped so Randall could get out of the wheelchair.
“Thank you, sugar,” he said, reaching for her hand. He pressed his lips to the back of her hand like some kind of British gentleman and smiled. “If you’re ever in Texas, be sure to come see me,” he said with a wink.
Jackass, I thought, trying hard to suppress my smile.
The woman blushed slightly, then walked away, her large chest bouncing with every step.
We managed to board the plane without further incident, but I would not be satisfied until we were safely in the air. When we took off, I exhaled softly. I couldn’t wait to get back home and give Gator’s ass a piece of my mind.
We had a two-hour layover in Atlanta before our next flight departed for Huntsville. Not wanting to risk any further skirmished or close calls with airport security, we opted instead to rent a car and drive back. We rode in silence for the three-and-a-half-hour trip. When I saw the green “Entering Madison County” sign, I was relieved, but I was also anxious for the next chapter to begin.
Chapter 24
Luis had provided Tyrese and Randall with fifteen kilos of cocaine each, on consignment, at the rate of $15,000 per brick. The agreement was simple: If he didn’t get his money within ninety days, the next ninety days would be their last. I was concerned with the stipulations, but both Gator and Tyrese assured me that it was more than enough time to settle our debt, and they ended up being one hundred percent right.
Word spread like wildfire that the purest coke our city had ever tasted was once again being served, and business started to bloom. The increase in traffic and clientele led to the recruitment of new workers to join our team and forced me to choose a second-in-command.
Although Randall had proven himself to be a valuable asset to the team and had handled the east side of the city without a hitch, I felt that when it came to the business end of things, Tyrese was a more favorable candidate. I chose not to address the subject with either of the men, but I was sure just from looking at the responsibilities and assignments given to both that my choice was obvious.
Clint was once again working on Gator’s appeal, and while we hooked up from time to time, he did not pressure me for a commitment.
My relationship with my mother was still rocky, but at least we were on speaking terms again. I continued to pay for her medical treatments at Vanderbilt and vowed to do so until her cancer was in remission.
* * * * *
To keep from making the same mistakes as my husband, I decided to take a portion of my profits and invest in a legitimate business. There was an empty building for sale on the corner of Madison Boulevard and Hughes Road that had caught my eye, the perfect place for my legitimate venture, Diamond’s Lounge. The location offered an abundance of parking, and the building was a comfortable 9,000 square feet. Although I planned to make some renovations to suit my personal taste, the establishment was already in perfect working condition. “What do you think?” I asked Randall. I already had my heart set on the location and was ready to make an offer, but I thought it best to ask my brother’s opinion anyway.
“Nice,” he said, running his hand over his head. “Yo, I can see the deejay booth bein’ right over there.” He pointed to the right corner of the room. “And the bar over there.”
“Yep, and my office there, overlooking the dance floor,” I said, pointing to the second level.
“I can definitely see you sitting up there like a boss.” He laughed. “I love it, sis. I think you should go for it.”
I suddenly had an idea that I felt would help solve one of my issues. “I think we should go for it, big brother. What do ya say we make it happen together?” I asked.
“Whatever you need me to do, I got you.”
“No, I mean we, as in partners.” I smiled slyly.
“Me and you?” Randall asked excitedly.
“Yes!”
“Hell yeah, we can make it happen.”
“Great!” I said, happy that Randall was excited about the business venture, even though it was an offer I’d made on a whim. It resolved the issue with declaring Tyrese my second-in-command in my other line of business and gave Randall an important job too.
I glanced over at the flamboyant RE/MAX agent who was patiently waiting by the door as Randall and I did our walk-through and conversed. “Draw up the contract,” I advised the gentleman.
“Fabulous!” he said, absolutely beaming. “Have we already secured financing?”
“Do you accept cash?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
He looked at me and smiled like a whore in a room full of paying dicks. “Oh, we love cash!”
Chapter 25
Renovations on Diamond’s Lounge took just under eight weeks. Once they were done, the end result was breathtaking. The lower level of the club had wooden floors and an elevated stage where musicians could perform live, as well as a booth for my on-staff deejay. In the middle of the stage was a diamond cut and a large “D.” I installed two bars, one on each side of the dance floor, and, much like at Club Delight, there was a runway running the perimeter of the dance floor, with stripper poles on each side. The décor we selected was simple but classy, with wooden tables and high-backed leather chairs. Installed in the ceiling were rows of purple and yellow track lighting, casting a funky but sensual glow. There were six flat-screen monitors in the walls, so I could showcase fights and other sporting events. In the back was a large dressing room, complete with lockers for the dancers we planned to feature on Friday nights, and there was a fully equipped kitchen with its own separate entrance.
The second level housed my office and a full bathroom, and a service elevator and staircase led to a private back exit of the club. In the office were two desks, with glass tops, and executive chairs in Italian leather, as well as a large, matching leather sectional. The front wall faced the dance floor and was made entirely of glass. Remote drapes went from the floor to the ceiling, in case privacy was necessary.
I made sure to install an extensive security system, as well a security booth enclosed in bulletproof glass. I wanted my patrons to have a good time but before they went inside to party, clearance would be reminiscent of some government events.
I chose not to have a VIP section for the simple fact that every patron was going to be treated like a celebrity. My security staff included a former Navy SEAL, a retired police officer, and an active officer of the Huntsville PD, who wanted to make some extra money when he was off duty. I’d learned from my husband that it was always good to have at least one lawman on our team.
My requirement for my waitresses and bartenders was simple: They had to look good. I hired only the sexiest men and women I interviewed. It might have seemed narrow-minded or unfair to some, but in such a business establishment, I knew people would be ten times more likely to spend money with a sexy woman or man than they would be with the ugly broad or goon down the street.
I
was out wrapping up the final details for our grand opening when Venetta popped in for a visit. I hadn’t seen her in weeks and had come to the conclusion that she had a new man in her life; whenever I called, she was always busy. Even Gator had mentioned a change in her personality. She walked through the front door in a pale blue, off-the-shoulder blouse and tan slacks. Her brown skin was radiant, and she looked happier than I’d seen her in years.
“Look at you!” I smiled and gave her a friendly hug. “Lookin’ good, boo.”
“Thanks, sis.” She smiled, stepped back, and took a look at me. “So do you, as always.”
“Meh, I try,” I teased.
“This place looks fabulous too,” she said, looking around the room. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks, V. That means a lot,” I said sincerely. “C’mon. I’ll give you the tour.”
After I showed her all around the place, we sat in my office, playing catch-up.
“So…who is he?” I asked.
“Who’s who?”
“The man who has you glowing,” I said.
“I don’t have a man,” she said, blushing.
“I know that look, girl. You’ve either run up on a good man or some good di—”
“Diamond!”
“I’m just sayin’,” I said with a shrug.
She laughed, then shook her head while looking at me. “Someone new has come into my life,” she admitted, “but I don’t wanna talk about that now. I just wanted to stop by and personally congratulate you on your accomplishments.”
I was anxious to hear all about the new person in Venetta’s life and was tempted to demand that she give me all the juicy details right then and there, but I still had to go home and get ready for the opening later that night. “Okay, but you’ve gotta promise to fill me in later,” I said. “I wanna hear all the good stuff.”
“Absolutely,” she said, standing. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to make your opening tonight though.”
“Aw! Why not? It won’t be the same without you here.”
“I completely forgot that I made prior plans,” she said. “Please don’t hate me.”
“I could never, but whoever this guy is, he’d better be worth it!”
“Trust me,” she said, grinning shamelessly, “he is.”
* * * * *
The theme for my grand opening was “All White Everything.” For the occasion, I purchased a one-shoulder, asymmetrical, chiffon cocktail dress with ruffles and beading. It hugged my body in a sensual but elegant way, as if it had been made only for me. I kept my hair natural but changed the look for the occasion by asking my stylist to set my strands in layers of curls. I looked and felt unstoppable. I couldn’t help but smile as I looked out the office window and saw that my building was packed to capacity.
“Look at that crowd, li’l sis!” Randall cheered, walking through the office door. He was stunningly handsome in his all-white suit with platinum tie and bright white alligator shoes. His traditional twists were gone, replaced with a clean-shaven head.
“I’m looking at them right now.” I grinned.
“That’s right.” He laughed. “Yo, sis, this is gonna be the hottest spot in the city before long.”
“It already is,” I said proudly. “You did an amazing job with the promotions, Randall.”
I’d left the responsibility for advertising the grand opening up to him, and he’d also coordinated the deejay and after-hours entertainment. At first I was nervous about giving him so much responsibility but it was apprehension wasted. He was proving to be an excellent partner and an even more savvy businessman, than I ever would have thought, had I not given him the chance.
“I told you I got you, sis,” he said, “and I meant it.”
“Well, I’m gonna go mix and mingle for a little while,” I said.
“Have fun,” he said. “Let your hair down.”
I exited my office then moved through the crowd, greeting my patrons and bobbing my head to Fantasia’s “Lose to Win.” It was the perfect song for the occasion, the perfect song for my life. I had taken loss after loss, but now I was finally winning again.
As I approached the bar, I spotted Clint on the dance floor, holding a champagne glass, talking to a tall female with a model-like figure. She had long hair that stopped at the top of her ass and was wearing a body-hugging, above-the-knee little number that looked two sizes too small. I was curious if they’d come together or if he’d just met her there. As I moved in closer, I noticed that she had a pretty, round face and very full lips, and she looked somewhat familiar. “Welcome,” I said loudly as I approached them.
Clint’s eyes lit up slightly as his gaze traveled from my head down to my six-inch heels.
I smiled, feeling slightly cocky that he’d given me the onceover in front of the other woman.
“Diamond,” he said, extending his hand to me. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you,” I said, ignoring his hand and instead extending my arms for a hug.
Clint gave me a safe church hug, then stepped back.
Humph, I thought. “Hello,” I said, politely addressing his friend.
“Hello.” She smiled, batting her eyes.
“Diamond, this is London. London, this is Diamond,” Clint said, introducing us. “This is her place.”
“You have a beautiful club,” London said, staring at me. She had a thick accent, a combination of a Southern drawl and something else I couldn’t put my finger on.
“Thank you so much. I’m happy you were able to come.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Clint stated.
“I love that dress,” London stated, casting a glance over my physique.
“Thank you.”
She took a sip from her champagne glass, never taking her eyes off me.
“Well, thanks again for coming,” I said, looking from one to the other. “Enjoy.”
Thirty minutes later, the lighting softened, and the music slowed down. Randall hopped onstage and announced that we had a special treat for our guests. The door leading to the back of the club opened, and out stepped four exotic dancers, all dressed in white bikinis and clear platform heels. I stared at the last dancer to take the stage and noticed that it was London. She winked at me, then flipped herself up and around the pole effortlessly. The patrons inside the club cheered and clapped, and I felt my panties grow moist. I continued to watch her for a few more minutes before excusing myself to my office.
It was 2 a.m. when the last of our customers finally made their departure. I sat at my desk, going over the figures for the night, more than satisfied with our profits. Just as I was wrapping up, I heard a light knock on the office door. I secured all the cash in the safe and said, “Come in.”
Randall popped his head in the office door and smiled.
“Hey, you. What are you up to?”
“Thought I’d toast to my partner in crime,” he said. He pushed back the office door, revealing a bottle of Rosé and two long-stemmed glasses.
“I can use a drink right about now,” I said, rising from my desk. I walked over to the sofa, kicked off my heels, and plopped down.
“I know that’s right,” he said, walking over and sitting down next to me. He filled the glasses and handed one of them to me. “To change,” he said.
I clinked my glass against his and took a long sip of the liquid.
“So…what’s on your agenda for the rest of the night?” he asked.
“I’m gonna go home and curl up with my sheets,” I said. “This has been fun, but I’m tired as hell.”
“What!? Are you serious ? You just had one of the most successful openings ever in this town, and you’re going to bed already?”
“Yes, sir. It’s past my bedtime,” I said, finishing off my drink.
“I’m headed over to Kendrick’s for the after-party. It’s from 3 until…well, whenever, so if you change your mind—”
“After-party? Do I even wanna know?” I
questioned.
“Nope.” He laughed. “All I’m gonna say is, don’t wait up for me.”
“I won’t.” I laughed, shaking my head.
“You do look tired, sis. Why don’t you take off?” he suggested. “I’ll lock up here.”
“You sure you don’t mind?”
“Positive,” he said.
I was more than ready to get out of that dress and enjoy being in nothing but my skin. I gathered my things and hugged my brother goodbye.
Outside in the parking lot, I saw Clint leaning against his car, talking to London. She’d replaced her bikini with fitted jeans and a white wife-beater, and her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail.
I pretended not to see them until London called my name. “Hey,” I said, walking up to them, just to be polite.
“We were just talking about you,” London said sweetly.
“All good, I hope,” I said, looking at Clint questioningly.
“Of course.” He smiled.
“That’s all that matters,” I told him. “Well, I’m headed home to relax, but thanks again for coming…and, London, I really enjoyed your performance.”
“I can come back anytime,” she said. “Your brother knows the number.”
I’m sure he does, I thought, laughing to myself. “Sounds good,” I said, then smiled graciously.
“Hey, we were just thinking about heading to breakfast,” Clint said. “Would you like to join us?”
“That’s a very tempting offer, but I’m not in the mood for another crowd right now.”
“Breakfast at my place,” he added.
I looked from him to the woman.
“Come on,” London said seductively. “It’ll be fun. We all know you want to.”
“Just breakfast?” I asked, looking at Clint.
“Yep. Toast, eggs, bacon…the works!”
“You got orange juice?”
“Of course…and champagne.”
“Then it’s a deal,” I said.
* * * * *
After eating the scrumptious breakfast Clint had prepared, the three of us cozied up in his living room to enjoy a pitcher of mimosas and the sounds of Maxwell crooning through his stereo speakers. I sat on his soft leather sofa with my feet tucked under my ass, sipping my fourth glass of the champagne and orange juice concoction, listening to London and Clint go back and forth about baseball. London sat on the small loveseat across from the sofa, while Clint reclined in the matching leather recliner. I laughed lightheartedly, pretending I was entertained by their conversation and banter, as if I knew anything at all about pitchers and steroid busts and the damn World Series. I hated sports with a passion and had never taken the time to learn any of the technicalities of the actual game. Of course, if they’d asked me how much a baller made in a year, it might have been another story.
