“Aiight, ain’t no thing.” He held five bills. “Yo, your girlfriend is a straight nut. Walking up to niggas, asking for chump change. You wanna hang out in the parking lot with her or do you wanna hang with me and my girl? We about to hit up this after-party at a hotel near the King of Prussia Mall. I only got two VIP tickets, but I might be able to get you in.”
“Oh, yeah? Whose party is it?”
“Soulja Boy.”
“Oh, my God! I ain’t hear nothing about him being in town.”
“He’s here on some hush-hush shit. Private party. Y’ah mean? You don’t need no ID or nothing. So whatchu wanna do? You gon’ hang out in this parking lot with your loser girlfriend, begging for change, or roll out and party with us?”
The chunky girl looked at him like he was crazy. “I’m not sticking around here! Me and that chick ain’t joined at the hip. We just happened to get out of a situation together, but we ain’t tight like that.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. Now you using your head. Drop that dead weight.” Bullet smiled with approval. “That enchilada-eating mami is in your way. I got a big surprise and I really only need one of y’all. Two is a crowd in this particular situation.”
As he cruised out of the lot, the Spanish girl yelled, “Portia!”
“Fuck outta here, bitch!” the loud-mouth girl yelled out the window at her and then began helping herself to a burger and some fries.
“You hard core,” Bullet complimented. “You and Soulja Boy might bump heads, but then again, he might like a feisty chick like you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, see what had happened was…uh—” He scratched his head.
Gianna knew that Bullet was weaving together more lies.
“Soulja Boy’s main man told me to grip up some hot girls to dance in his next video. I’m a recruiter for most of the stars that come through Philly. So if I don’t get you in this video, don’t even worry about it. Bow Wow supposed to be coming through next week.”
“Nah, I’m not waiting on Bow Wow. I’m feeling Soulja Boy.” A sudden worried look covered Portia’s face. “They shooting the video here in Philly? Cuz like I said, I’m in a heated situation right now and I need to be out.”
“Nah, they not shooting here. They gon’ fly you out to Miami, if they pick you.”
“Yes!” She smacked her hands together. “I’m on that private jet. You feel me? Portia is heading for Miami!”
The girl was grating Gianna’s last nerve. “You’re blowing everything out of proportion. No one mentioned a word about a private jet,” Gianna blurted, totally annoyed.
Portia whipped around. “You need to keep your mouth shut, talkin’ all corny and proper. Where you from, anyway? I know you ain’t from Philly, talkin’ like a damn white girl.”
Bullet let out a burst of cruel laughter. In the rearview mirror, he glared at Gianna, giving her a narrow-eyed look that promised punishment for being grammatically correct in public and for potentially blowing her cover.
Worried that she’d be used for target practice tomorrow, Gianna shrank into the leather upholstery.
Meanwhile Portia, without a care in the world, began bouncing and busting moves in the passenger seat of the car.
“Work it, shorty,” Bullet cheered, turning up the volume of a Jay-Z CD. “You got serious moves, with your sexy self.”
“Shit, put me on the stage with Beyoncé and I’ll work it better than she can. I won every single dance contest at the girl’s club I belong to,” she said with pride.
“Is that right?” Bullet said. His eyes narrowed and calculating, he wheeled onto I-95 South, toward the airport.
CHAPTER 16
“Why you got Gucci Mane on blast? You should be playing Soulja Boy’s CD so I can practice to one of his songs.”
“Where’s the Soulja Boy CD?” Bullet barked at Gianna.
“Um…I forgot to bring it.”
“Damn!” He gritted his teeth, appearing furious.
“Sorry,” Gianna placated, still playing her part. In reality, Bullet didn’t own a Soulja Boy CD.
“Umph,” Portia grunted in disgust.
“Ain’t no thing,” he said to Portia. “When we get to the audition joint, you’ll have time to rehearse.” He frowned, scratched his chin in thought. “How much did you get paid for winning those talent shows?”
“Nothing. I got a few trophies and a certificate.”
Bullet grunted. “Damn, you was on some sucker shit. Fuck a talent show. You ’bout to bust it up with the A-list stars. I might even take you under my wing and be your manager. Stop wasting your talent at some neighborhood girls club. You ’bout to get paid.”
“You really think I’ma get picked for the video?”
“Yeah, after I get you hooked up with makeup and some new gear.”
“The malls ain’t open this time of night.”
“Fuck a mall. I keep all kinds of fly gear in storage. You know, so the girls I pick can stand out when they audition. See…I get an extra bonus when one of my girls makes it to the top ten.”
“Well, start counting your money cuz I know I’m gon’ make the top ten,” Portia boasted.
Despite the fact that Bullet was lying to Portia, Gianna still felt left out and jealous. She rolled her eyes again, detesting the obnoxious and conceited girl.
“What size you wear?” Bullet wanted to know.
“Twelve.”
Bullet eyeballed Portia’s bosom. “What about your bra size? I wanna put you in something that showcases those big tits you rockin’.”
A smile lit her face. “Thirty-six double D!” she bragged.
“Yeah, I got a rhinestone bustier that will fit you, perfect.”
“A what?”
“A sexy top that pushes your titties up so high, Soulja Boy won’t be able to miss ’em.”
“Oh, aiight. I’m with that.”
“We gotta give you a new name, though. Portia ain’t gon’ get it. You star material, boo. You need a name that shines.”
Portia furrowed her brows in thought. “Star! That’s a good name for me.”
“Nah, you gotta cute baby face. You look sweet and delicious.” He scrunched his face, thinking hard. “I like Bubblicious. Bubbles for short.”
Portia frowned. “I’m not feeling that name at all.”
“Trust me. I know this business. That name matches your assets.”
“Aiight,” she reluctantly agreed.
“Just trust me. You’ll get used to your new name. Let me manage your career and we’ll all be moving to Miami.”
Portia shrugged. “Okay. Getting out of Philly and hanging with the stars in Miami is exactly what I need to be doing. Fucking around with that damn Maria was slowing me down. I’m glad I bumped into you.”
Bullet looked in the mirror and winked at Gianna. Gianna smiled back, glad for some attention, and praying that the wink was a reprieve from any punishment he had in store for her.
He turned his attention back to Portia. “You owe me an apology for calling me a cheapskate. It wasn’t about no coupla dollars. I was trying to check you and your girlfriend to see which one of y’all would work best for the video, but you was coming at my neck, playing me like some kind of sucka.”
“My bad.”
Gianna snickered. It was the most she could do to taunt the obnoxious girl.
Portia shot her a hostile glance and then asked Bullet, “Is she gon’ be trying out for the video, too?”
Bullet fell out laughing. “Nah, that’s my boo, but she can’t dance. If you think she talks like a white girl, you should see how bad she dance.”
Portia cracked up in malicious laughter.
“Whatever!” Gianna snarled from the back seat. She’d been cued to play her part, but the growl in tone was real. She disliked Portia intensely.
“Trust. Lollipop ain’t no competition for you. I have another girl named Tootsie who was gon’ audition tonight, but she way out in the boonies. I
ain’t got time to pick her up.”
“Less competition for me,” Portia said.
Bullet nodded. “I like your confidence. Me and you gon’ go far together.”
Watching Bullet giving Portia so much extra attention and so many compliments bothered Gianna. She felt a twinge of envy. She knew Bullet wasn’t being honest with the girl, but she couldn’t help worrying that there was a grain of truth in his words.
Portia was competitive and would probably want to be his bottom bitch after she made peace with the situation. But Bullet had promised that spot to Gianna. She wanted it. She’d earned it. She was his first piece of candy. That had to count for something.
“How can you stand being with an insecure female?” Portia asked.
“She can’t help herself,” Bullet replied, his words followed by taunting chuckles directed at Gianna.
“I don’t want your man; I’m checking for Soulja Boy,” Portia informed Gianna and then attacked the burger—her head, neck, and shoulders moving in time with the music that poured from the speakers.
“Work it, Bubbles. I’ma put in a special word for you. I’ma see if I can get you the number one spot in the video.”
“For real?”
“Hell, yeah. I’m tired of recruiting girls. I need to play a bigger part and get the big bucks. You and me need an agreement.”
“What kind of agreement?”
“I’m taking you to the video shoot and everything, getting you the kind of exposure you could never get on your own, so I wanna represent as your manager. You know, get my percentage.”
“Oh! Aiight. For sure!”
“Now don’t be trying to ditch me after you get all cozy with Soulja Boy. Stay loyal, aiight? We gon’ split your video profits down the middle. Fiddy-fiddy, aiight?”
“Aiight. That’s cool.”
Bullet’s cell pinged. He glanced at the display and frowned. “Soulja Boy’s man done hit me four times. We gotta speed it up. You might not have time for hair and makeup, Bubbles.”
Responding to her new name, she said, “It’s cool. When Soulja Boy sees my moves, it’s gon’ be a wrap for all them other chicks.”
“I like your confidence.” Bullet took his eyes off the highway and gave Bubbles a quick glance of appreciation.
Bouncing to the music, Bubbles stared out the window. “Seems like we going in the opposite direction from the King of Prussia mall.”
“That VIP party was on some other shit. Soulja Boy wasn’t even gon’ be there,” Bullet explained. “We headed to the private audition. Out of the way spot…in the sticks. Everything ain’t for everybody. Feel me?”
“Oh. Okay.” Bubbles pulled down the visor and checked out her reflection in the mirror. “You got any lip gloss?” she asked Gianna.
“No,” Gianna said with an edge to her voice.
“Can I hold a comb or brush or something?”
“No!” Gianna spat. She wasn’t allowed to carry a purse. Bullet kept all her personal items. Unless she was working. When she was working, she kept a work kit…a plastic pouch filled with condoms and packets of moisturizer. Lip gloss was included but not to enhance her beauty. Lip gloss was used as a sex tool to allow customers more glide.
“Yo, Bubbles. Stop worrying about your appearance. You look sexy without makeup. They looking for fresh faces, anyway. You know…a schoolgirl look,” he explained, seeming to forget it was he who had earlier brought up the topics of hair and makeup.
Bubbles tried to finger comb her hair into a different style. “I need a perm,” she complained, frowning at her reflection.
His cell buzzed. “I’m on my way,” Bullet grumbled. He ended the call with a click of a button.
“Why you bang on Soulja Boy’s main man? S’pose they already finished with the auditions?” Bubbles shook her head in disgust.
“Ain’t nothing popping off ’til we get there,” he hissed. His hands tightened around the steering wheel as he regarded Bubbles contemptuously from the corner of his eye.
Gianna could tell that Bullet was doing everything in his power not to pull over on the shoulder and beat the crap out of Bubbles for shooting off her mouth.
Jaws tight and uttering agitated sounds, Bullet went from cruising mode to speeding onto the ramp that led to Ridley Park, Pennsylvania.
Bullet rented storage areas all over the tri-state area. The space he used in Ridley Park was near a bar where a special clientele waited impatiently, watching the clock and waiting for Bullet to let them know that he and the girl named Lollipop were in town.
The Ridley Park crowd would be waiting at the usual place. Eager to have their desires satisfied as quickly as possible so they could get home to their families at a reasonable hour.
It was bowling night for that group of husbands and fathers. A few drinks with the boys before they headed home. And then a pit stop at the remote area where they leased Gianna’s glossy lips.
Gianna sat back and relaxed, knowing that the Ridley Park team of creeps would be easy to please.
Bullet’s training had been so rigorous, he’d often leave Gianna’s lips swollen and numb. But the harsh training worked. Gianna always got each customer off in less than five minutes. Her head game was tight.
She wondered if Bullet would put the new girl to work tonight. Probably not. Bubbles seemed hard-headed and stubborn, with entirely too much mouth. She didn’t impress Gianna as the type who would take orders easily. She’d probably need three or four days of Bullet’s personalized training before she was ready to start making money.
With a smirk on her face, Gianna tried to imagine which sex act Bubbles would be trained to specialize in.
CHAPTER 17
As if she’d been injected with a truth serum, Saleema had poured out her heart to Khalil, revealing so much of her painful past she had lost her breath and collapsed into his open arms.
Khalil had held Saleema while she cried a river of tears.
She was all cried out, but instead of feeling purged, Saleema was horrified that she’d let down her defenses and had blurted out her sordid history during a moment of extreme weakness.
She stiffened in his arms, dreading to hear his comments.
He didn’t say a word. With feelings so close to the surface, Saleema felt that Khalil’s contemplative silence was proof that she’d said too much. She should never have bared her soul and admitted that she’d been a prostitute and a madam.
Thankfully, she hadn’t mentioned a word about that night in the murky swamp in South Carolina. Somehow she’d managed to restrain herself from confessing that horror event. The brutal death of Kai Montgomery was a secret that Saleema would take to her grave.
On the bright side, it was best that she’d aired most of her dirty laundry before she allowed him to get too close. Now she could continue her single-minded commitment to helping troubled teen-aged girls without any distractions. The last thing that she needed was to be encumbered by an emotional attachment while she was at such an all-time low in her life.
She eased out of his embrace.
“You okay?” There was unmistakable concern in Khalil’s voice, but in Saleema’s state of self-protectiveness, his tone sounded very close to pity.
“I’m fine,” she huffed, giving him an indignant sidelong glance.
He brushed the top of her hand. “You had it rough, I know. I’m sorry about everything you’ve gone through.”
She pulled her hand away. “I don’t need your pity. I’m good!”
“Whoa. I didn’t—”
“Seriously,” she said, cutting him off harshly. “I didn’t ask you to come over here, bothering me and disrupting my life.” Saleema knew she was speaking irrationally but she continued to release the angry flow of words.
“Disrupting your life? You’re taking things way out of context. I was just checking on you.”
“That’s rather arrogant. Who appointed you to do that?” She laughed bitterly. “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long tim
e. I don’t need you or anyone else to check up on me.”
“Bad choice of words.”
“You’re the scholar. I would expect you to choose your words more carefully.” Biting sarcasm was the only defense mechanism she could access easily.
“Ease up, Saleema. I’m not the enemy; I’m trying to be your friend.”
“I’m not feeling very friendly.” She gazed toward the doorway, indicating his visit was over.
Taken aback, Khalil frowned. “Believe me, it’s not pity that I feel for you. The other day…over lunch…it seemed we’d established a connection.”
Convincing herself that it was for the best, she folded her arms, looked him in the eye and said, “We didn’t establish anything. I was merely killing time. Honestly, Khalil, you’re not my type.”
He flinched and then glanced away.
It was a bold-faced lie. If Khalil wasn’t her type, then who was?
Sickening images of the men who used to be her type raced across her mind. They were exceedingly wealthy men who wore Italian suits, had secure investments, and traveled the world. She was paid to be an amorous companion to men who were more passionate about their stock portfolios than their lackluster performance in bed.
There were so many reasons not to get involved with Khalil. He was ambitious, highly educated, and an honorable young man. Someone who was destined to succeed in life.
It was Saleema’s own fault that she’d made inappropriate choices. She was quietly making amends by helping young girls stay on the right track.
She’d be damned if she’d put herself in the position to seek Khalil’s approval. He was out of her league and that was that. Being around Khalil dredged up old feelings of unworthiness. Feeling unworthy fueled a desire to lash out.
“I’ll walk you to the door,” she said, tightening her folded arms.
“I have something to say.”
Saleema sighed audibly.
Attempting to put her at ease, Khalil smiled. “Forgive me if I sound condescending, but I get the feeling that you think you need to put up a wall between us.”
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