Black Beauty

by Erica Hilton

  ***

  With Mateo back in her life, and the two forming a relationship that seemed like a fairytale, Chanel started to blossom a lot sooner than the flowers and leaves did in the spring. It seemed like nothing could separate her and Mateo. Mateo treated Chanel like his queen and made sure she didn’t want for anything. They constantly went out on dates, talked, held hands, and went for long, romantic walks around the city. Mateo paraded his young beauty around town like she was a new car, washed and shined and looking spectacular.

  On Valentine’s Day, Mateo ordered two dozen roses, several teddy bears, and chocolate to be delivered to her home. Chanel was blown away by the surprises delivered to her front door, and so were Bacardi and her sisters. It was clear to everyone that Mateo was there to stay.

  In March, Mateo took her to see The Lion King on Broadway in Times Square. The Lion King was one of her favorite Disney movies growing up, and Chanel was excited to see it in live action on stage. Mateo had gotten them the perfect seats up front, and she could feel herself on the stage because they were so close. She got to experience the African savannah come to life on stage with Simba, Rafiki, and an unforgettable cast of characters as they journeyed from Pride Rock to the jungle and back again.

  In April, they took trips to Coney Island, frequented museums in the city, toured the Empire State Building, and enjoyed horse and carriage rides through Central Park, something that was becoming a favorite for Chanel. Though she was a native of the city, Mateo had her feeling like a tourist. A day with him was always breathtaking and busy.

  Bacardi and Butch started to treat their youngest like she was their world. Suddenly, Chanel could do no wrong. Chanel would wake up to Bacardi cooking breakfast for her—her favorite, French toast, omelets, and bacon. Her parents were starting to spoil her with kindness. If Chanel had a dispute with her sisters about anything, Bacardi right away took Chanel’s side and fussed at Charlie or Claire.

  It felt like she was living in a parallel universe.

  Because of her relationship with Mateo, Chanel was now able to buy groceries, pay the rent, and hit Bacardi off with money and gifts, turning the other cheek and proving that she was the bigger woman by forgiving them for how they treated her before Mateo came into her life.

  Now, to Bacardi, Claire was the cheater in the family, the fraud and exposed loser, who was dumb and was going in and out of depression for months now. Then there was Charlie, her oldest daughter who had fallen from grace and couldn’t bail her man out of jail because she didn’t have the money.

  When Mateo would come to the apartment, Bacardi would roll out the red carpet for him and pull out the good china. Mateo became her favorite person in the world. She started to call him her son and treated him like he was.

  “Look at how handsome my son is,” she would say.

  Mateo took her flattery and compliments in stride. He wasn’t too fond of Chanel’s parents. He remembered the stories Chanel would tell him about how they would constantly mistreat her and abuse her. The only reason he was nice to them was because of Chanel.

  Even with all the gifts and the kindness Mateo showed her, Chanel remained as sweet as ever. She didn’t allow his money to go to her head. He tried to push a lot of really nice things on her, but Chanel would only take what her family needed and nothing more.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Mateo’s alarm clock rang at seven in the morning. Lying next to him was a naked young woman who had given him the time of his life last night. But it was only sex. He looked at her and frowned. She was just pussy, nobody special.

  He yawned and stretched and got out of the bed butt-naked. He went to the window to take a look outside. The morning sunshine percolated through the bedroom window, indicating that it was a beautiful spring day in April.

  A deep sigh, a long stretch, and then it was a few calisthenics on the bedroom floor—nearly a hundred push-ups and almost as many sit-ups. Mateo liked to work up a sweat before he got his day started. He was in great shape and in the prime of his life. He was an early riser and didn’t believe in sleeping in and waking up late mornings or early afternoons. He believed that the early bird always gets the worm.

  After completing his calisthenics, finally, his sexual plaything from last night decided to wake up. She rose up, propped herself against the headboard, and spotted Mateo naked on the floor after he’d just completed sixty sit-ups.

  She smiled and said, “Now that is something nice to wake up to in the morning.”

  He stood up, looked at her, and said, “You need to go.”

  “Go? Why? It’s still early, baby,” she said.

  “Don’t call me that.”

  She removed herself from the bed, her voluptuous figure eye-candy from head to toe, and tried to wrap her arms around Mateo to give him a sweet good-morning kiss. But he pushed her away.

  “You need to get dressed. I got things to do today.”

  “Damn, it’s like that? I fuck you good wit’ this wet pussy and suck your dick and swallow your seeds and you gonna dismiss me like that?”

  He stared at her coldly and replied, “Yes.”

  “Fuck you then, Mateo. Fo’ real, fuck you!” the girl shouted.

  She stormed around his bedroom collecting her clothes from off the floor and sloppily got dressed. Mateo donned his shorts and a shirt. Playtime was over, and she needed to leave. Besides, he started to feel guilty about cheating on Chanel so soon.

  As the girl stormed out of his apartment ranting and carrying on, Mateo thought, Good riddance.

  He cooked himself some breakfast and then got dressed. Soon after, his cell phone rang. It was Pyro.

  “Yo, what’s up?”

  “You. Did you kick that bitch out yet?” Pyro asked.

  “How you know I had a bitch in here?”

  “Because, nigga, old habits die hard. And I know you love Chanel, but, nigga, you got needs too.”

  “Nigga, stay out my business,” said Mateo.

  “Anyway, Lorraine called and said she gonna need us there at the closing to sign some papers.”

  “What time?”

  “Around six,” Pyro said.

  “A’ight, I’ll be there.”

  “And we still got that class tonight,” Pyro reminded him, like he was his personal assistant.

  “I didn’t forget. But P, I’ll see you at the barbershop in a few. I got some runs to make,” said Mateo.

  “A’ight. One love. I’m out.”

  Mateo ended the call. It seemed like his schedule today was on overload. He mixed himself a healthy drink in the kitchen and downed it.

  Mateo’s Bronx apartment was a luxury in the borough. For $3,100 a month, he had a 1,400-square-foot apartment with two bedrooms and two bathrooms, along with gorgeous hardwood flooring, granite countertops, and full sized stainless steel appliances. It was the ultimate bachelor’s pad with a 60” flat screen and a high-end stereo system with surround-sound.

  Mateo liked nice things, and he and Pyro did their best to stay under the radar. They sold mostly weed and didn’t dabble in cocaine or other hardcore drugs like most dealers. Both men wanted to make enough money to start their own legit businesses, from real estate investments to cryptocurrency. Mateo was a man who did his homework, and it seemed like cryptocurrency was the future. There was no central bank to manipulate the value.

  Mateo sat down at the kitchen table and opened his laptop. First, he went into his portfolio to look at a few of his investments and saw that Bitcoin was up 5.2%, and things were moving well. He smiled.

  After going through several of his portfolios, he started to write in his small journal that he started a few months ago. Mateo was a meticulous individual. He was organized, smart, and believed that the pieces will always fall into the puzzle if you visualize the entire design.

  After his early morning routine, he exited his
apartment and took the stairs down to the lower level. He carried a .380, for that just in case, and he carried a few thousand dollars on him.

  The first stop on Mateo’s list was to Washington Heights to meet with his weed connect, a cool player named Marty. Marty was a white man small in stature, but very business savvy and influential around town. He wore thick bifocals, always dressed in bohemian clothing, and was a down-to-earth guy.

  Mateo parked in front of the brick building near Amsterdam Avenue and entered the five-story structure. He walked up three flights and knocked on apartment door 3F. Marty answered the door with a smile on his face, happy to see a friend and lucrative client at his door.

  “Mateo, my friend, c’mon inside,” said Marty with a hug and dap.

  Mateo took a seat on the sofa. The décor of the place was neat and comfortable. Marty had a bit of OCD, and he liked things in place and rarely touched. Mateo knew how to move and where to sit.

  “What you need from me, my friend?” asked Marty.

  Marty considered everyone a friend, but he hardly trusted anyone. Mateo was one of a few allowed at his location in Washington Heights. Seated in the kitchen was Marty’s goon, Large D, who stood six-four with muscles and who was very protective of Marty. It was even rumored that they were lovers. But it wasn’t Mateo’s business. Gay or not, Marty was his connect and they’d been working together for nearly two years.

  Mateo reached into his pockets and pulled out a wad of cash and dropped it onto the glass coffee table in front of him.

  “I need a ki.”

  “Big baller, you are, Mateo. This is your second ki in two weeks,” said Marty gleefully.

  “I’m a busy man, Marty.”

  “I see, I see.”

  Marty picked up the wad of cash and Large D came into the living room to collect and count it. But they both knew Mateo was always correct with the cash. While Mateo waited for his product, Marty happily lit up a joint and asked him, “So, have you looked into those business investments I told you about?”

  Mateo nodded. “Yeah. You always on point, Marty, I gotta hand it to you. I put down a few thousand dollars on some cryptocurrencies, and the returns are looking nice.”

  “What did I tell you? Digital currency is the wave of the future, and right now I’m sitting on a few hundred grand—money, money, money. I came out the pussy with a dollar bill in my hand,” he joked.

  Mateo laughed.

  Large D came back into the living room with Mateo’s ki of marijuana. It was potent shit—Kosher Kush. Mateo’s clientele couldn’t get enough of it. Mateo grinned and placed the shrink-wrapped and vacuumed sealed ki in his bag and stood up. Their transaction was complete. What he paid $4,500 for could net him ten grand or more in profit with his customers—supply and demand, it was great business. Mateo and Pyro were moving one to five kilos a month. But it wasn’t much compared to the heavyweights in the game that were moving triple that.

  Mateo left the apartment and went back down the stairs and out the lobby doors with his high quality purchase concealed in his bag. He got back into his Range Rover and drove off.

  It was back to the Bronx, where he made most of his money. He loved living in the Bronx. Mateo loved the culture, the food, and the music. When he would bring Chanel to the Bronx, it was a different world for her with all the Puerto Ricans around and the numerous Spanish restaurants in the neighborhoods.

  At times Chanel felt like she wasn’t in America anymore. Mateo loved bringing her around and introducing her to his peoples, and everyone fell in love with the dark skinned beauty. There were the female haters, though, the ones who wanted Mateo for themselves and felt that he needed to stick with his own kind and not some young black bitch from Brooklyn.

  Mateo parked in front of the barbershop on the Grand Concourse. He could see that the inside was already busy with customers and it wasn’t even noon yet. But Spanish Fly Barbershop was a popular place in the neighborhood.

  Inside the shop, there were three barbers—two Hispanics and one black male. Each of them had a client in the chair, and seated on the opposite side of the barbers were a half-dozen men waiting to get a haircut. There was a decent sized flat screen mounted nearby to entertain waiting customers, and it played everything from the latest music videos to movies and sports.

  The chitchat inside was vibrant and sociable, with laughter and shit talking. The moment Mateo entered the shop, all eyes were on him and he was greeted with love and respect. Mateo gave a few guys dap and said hello to them, and then he went toward the owner of the barbershop. Bolo was a hefty man with some pretty features, including diamond earrings in both ears and dark waves on top of his head that stayed spinning. He had swag and was about his business and his customers.

  “What’s good, Mateo?” Bolo greeted with dap and a brotherly embrace. “We good?”

  Mateo smiled and nodded. “Yeah. We good.”

  “Fellows, excuse us for a minute,” Bolo said to his peoples in the shop.

  Bolo and Mateo disappeared into the back of the barbershop, a medium sized break room that could also be transformed into another business for a beautician. It was windowless room and cluttered with a few crates and boxes and black garbage bags.

  Mateo set his bag on the table and asked, “What you need, Bolo?”

  “Let me get four ounces. I got customers ready for it right now.”

  Mateo nodded and grinned. “A’ight!”

  Bolo was one of Mateo’s distributors on the Bronx streets. He was a frequent buyer with a string of clients looking forward to the Kosher Kush that Mateo provided him.

  Four ounces of high quality weed at $300 an ounce was a very profitable gain for Mateo. Bolo pulled out a wad of cash and handed it over to Mateo.

  “Yo, I heard that you been chillin’ wit’ some fly black shorty lately, and more than once. What’s that about, huh?”

  “Just my personal life, Bolo.”

  “I hear you’re in love.”

  “Yeah, well, is that a bad thing?”

  Bolo chuckled. “A man like you, I never thought it would happen. This chocolate mami, she must be something special for you to sport her around town the way you been doing lately,” said Bolo.

  “You good, puta?”

  Bolo chuckled. He could see that Mateo was somewhat offended by having his personal life brought up, so he left the subject alone.

  “Yeah, we’re good, Mateo.”

  Mateo packed up his shit, gave Bolo dap, and was on his way. He expected Pyro to meet him at the barbershop, but he was nowhere around.

  Chapter Twenty

  Chanel, you okay?” Mecca asked.

  Chanel turned around from staring out the window. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m just thinking about something, that’s all.”

  “Is it about Mateo?”

  She sighed. “Yes. I think he’s cheating on me.”

  It wasn’t surprising news to Mecca, and she wanted to say I told you so, but she didn’t. She was Chanel’s best friend and her comfort. Whatever Chanel needed to talk about, she was there to listen and give her friend the best advice she could give without being judgmental.

  “Why do you think he’s cheating on you?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. It’s just that feeling you get. We’ve been together for a while now and he’s never touched me other than kissing.”

  “So, are you trying to fuck him?”

  Another sigh escaped Chanel’s lips. She knew he was the one to take her virginity, but the strangest thing was, he wanted to take things slow.

  “I want us to make love, Mecca. I’m ready. I’ve never felt so ready in my life.”

  “I bet you are.”

  “Do you think something’s wrong with me?”

  “No, girl. Shit, everything is right with you, and if I was gay, then we probably would be having sex right n
ow,” said Mecca.

  Chanel laughed. Mecca always made her laugh.

  Chanel believed that Mateo was having an affair with a few Puerto Rican girls. When she would bring up the issue, he would explain that he was into black women, and that he always had an attraction for dark skinned women.

  “I love your complexion, baby. It’s Nubian—it’s beautiful. Sometimes I wish I was darker. Chanel, you know you got my heart,” Mateo would say to her.

  His reassurance made her feel good and it made her feel wanted. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something from her.

  “I just find it weird that a man like him would wanna take it slow.”

  “Maybe’s he overloaded on pussy,” Mecca joked.

  Chanel didn’t find the comment funny.

  “I’m sorry. Bad joke, huh?”

  Chanel raised her eyebrow. “Mmpf. Anyway, he has this new place and he claims he never brought any bitches there before and I’m the only one he’s brought there. I get to come over and chill, but he never allows me to stay the night. He always takes me home.”

  “I gotta be real with you. I do find that shit weird, Chanel.”

  “It is, right?”

  “You ask him why?”

  “He says if I stay the night, he won’t be able to control himself.”

  “So Mateo is actually trying to be a gentleman, huh?”

  “I guess so. But girl, I’m not trying to be a lady.”

  Mecca laughed. “So let me get this straight. Mateo treats you like the queen you are, and for some strange reason, he wants to wait to have sex with you, but you don’t want to wait any longer, and he brings you to his new crib, but he don’t want you staying the night because he sees you as temptation. Wow!”

  “My life is weird.”

  “Well, y’all need to talk. And you need to let him know that you don’t like the way he’s moving, and no matter what he tells you, you’re seeing different.”

  Chanel agreed.

  ***

  The next day, Chanel was nestled in Mateo’s arms on the couch at his condo. Watching a movie on Netflix, the two engaged themselves into passionate kissing and some touchy-feely. Chanel could feel a twitch between her legs. Mateo’s touch was riveting and his deep kisses were always mesmerizing. He held her lovingly. The aroma from his breath was winter fresh, and her scent was intoxicating to him. Being with her man always meant security and desire.