Baby Momma 4

by Ni'chelle Genovese

  He seemed so content and pleased with himself. I’d swear I was sitting next to my daddy if I didn’t know better. Whenever he had to show me why his way worked better, he’d have that same, cocky, what-did-I-tell-you expression.

  Worry lines creased my forehead as I picked at the hem of my skirt, like the material was suddenly not good enough for me. I wasn’t even about to let Genesis feel like Father Superior. “I don’t know if peacocking’s for me. You know, looking bright and flashy so I’m likeable to all the other birds isn’t really my style. Black is subtle, and it’s always in. I’m gonna have to think about all this frilly, pinky, girly stuff,” I teased him.

  Genesis gave me a tight nod. “Whatever works for you, then. I’m just an ordinary nigga with an extraordinarily successful multimillion-dollar law firm who deals with successful women all day. What would I know about aesthetics or styling?” He turned to stare out the window.

  And so we entered into the silent stare-out-the-window portion of the drive. Wow, sensitive now, are we? Did this nigga just try to read me over what I wanna wear? I silently argued with myself. No, girl, Mr. Multimillion-Dollar Law Firm just read your ass over the reason why he’s qualified to hand pick and pay for your new shit. Me and my damn mouth.

  The car rolled to a stop. Genesis rubbed his hands together, clapping as the chauffeur walked around to open the door.

  “Game time, Novie. You ready to do the damn thing? I already know you are. Let’s get it.”

  He didn’t wait for an answer and was out of the car before I could blink. His sour or irritated mood at my comment about the clothes was gone just as fast.

  And I could see why as a white silk-draped tornado spun out of the house before we could get to the first step. She pulled Genesis in for a tight intimate hug letting him know that her sister, Farrah, had to step out, but he was welcome to come inside and wait. I didn’t miss her emphasis on the word he either. Genesis’s rushed instructions for the driver to take me back to the office let me know exactly what was up with that.

  NOVIE

  14

  Amu$ement$ Can Make That Money Too

  I sat in bumper-to-bumper traffic with my new clothes piled high in the backseat. You can’t tell me there isn’t something in car exhaust that causes amnesia. I swear, every evening I’d see the reason why I should be taking the Metro, and then that shit would be long forgotten by the next morning. By the time I got to my overcrowded apartment complex, I was dead-ass tired.

  Denise was standing behind her car in her parking spot next to mine as I pulled up. She yanked my door open before I even had a chance to put the car in park.

  “Heather is gonna kill me, put me in a shallow grave, and dig me up so she can kill me all over again!”

  “Aww, hell, what did you do?”

  “I can’t find Hennessey nowhere! I was counting when that nigga Stephen called to smooth shit over. I swear I was only on the phone for like five minutes. Maybe ten minutes, I don’t know, but it wasn’t that long.”

  She threw her hands up in frustration.

  “Um, have you been day-drinking without me? And when did the liquor store stop selling Hennessey?”

  Denise rolled her eyes and stomped her foot. “No, woman, I lost Heather’s daughter!”

  Both of my eyebrows shot up to the top of my forehead. I didn’t know Heather had a daughter, and I know she couldn’t have entrusted Denise with a live, little person. She could kill a fake plant. And, yes, fake plants can die. Try not dusting one for a whole year and you’ll be burying it in your trash can.

  I took a deep breath for both of us. “Okay, calm down. What’s her name, and what does she look like?”

  “Hennessey, um, she’s short. She had on a pink tank top and shorts. Or, shit, I think it was a purple T-shirt and a jean skirt,” Denise stammered. “Hell, I don’t know. I’ve been babysitting a five-year-old blur. That little nigga don’t stay still for shit. Hennessey!” she shouted through the parking lot.

  I put my hands on her shoulders to get her focused attention.

  “Dee, did you drink Hennessey today, or am I really about to look like a stoned up alchie walkin’ around here yellin’ for some Cognac?”

  “Her name is Hennessey! She’s a little yellow thing with funky-colored eyes. Lawd, I don’t even remember what her hair is like. What if the police want me to do a little sketch with one of those murder artists? I’ve gotta call Heather. No, I can’t. I cannot tell that girl I lost her baby. This is what happens when you pop molly with a white girl. You get fucked in the ass by your girlfriend’s boy-boo and you lose kids and—”

  “Y’all did what? You can tell me about that later. We’ve got to make moves. If she was snatched up, we need an Amber Alert, the police need to know, and so does her momma. You’re 100 percent positive she isn’t in the house?”

  “She’s not in there. We got locked out when I was going to check the mail. I left my keys somewhere in the house. We were just gonna play hide-and-seek until you or the maintenance man showed up.”

  I pulled out my phone. It was time to call in some help before we waited too long and lost all chances of finding Heather’s daughter.

  “Oh, shit, oh, shit!” Tears rolled down Denise’s cheeks.

  She held her phone up, shaking it extra close to my face. Heather’s picture was bright on the screen. I snatched the phone from her hand.

  “Hey, Heather, this is Novie. We’re have little teensy tiny problem. We lost Hennessey playing hide-and-seek.”

  Denise was staring hard in my face, biting the tip of her fingernail. I put the phone on speaker so she could hear.

  Heather sighed into the phone. “Novie, are you guys indoors or outdoors?” she asked. She didn’t sound the least bit worried about the fact that we’d lost her little girl.

  “We’re outside in the parking lot right now,” I answered.

  “Is Dee’s car there?” Heather asked impatiently.

  Denise and I both turned to look at her little red Nissan Sentra parked beside us. Unless Hennessey could fit up under the seats, she wasn’t in there.

  “Yes, it’s here,” I answered her. “But—”

  “I’ve told that little girl a thousand frickin’ times . . .” Heather mumbled under her breath before answering. “Novie, go tap on the trunk of the car.”

  I raised my eyebrows at Dee and did as I was told. I walked to the back of her car, tapped three times with my ear near the trunk like I was thumping a damn watermelon. We both jumped back when the trunk flew open with a burst of giggles. Hennessey popped up, holding Denise’s keys in her hand.

  “Little girl!” Heather yelled through the phone. “You are getting the business when I get off work. You’ll stand in the corner until your legs fall off. Do you hear me?”

  Hennessey’s June bug bright green eyes filled with tears. Her expression dropped. She let out a tiny, pitiful, “Yes.”

  I apologized to Heather. Denise helped Hennessey out of the trunk. I rolled my eyes to the sky and back. In the event we’d had to get the police involved, she would’ve had us all jacked up. This little girl had on a yellow shirt with blue jeans. How she got pink or blue from that beats me.

  * * *

  An hour later I was standing in the Denise’s kitchen, me in my fuzzy house pants and my favorite Duke T-shirt, and Denise in a blue adult onesie with bunny ears, like the weirdo she was. Hennessey had gone to bed right after dinner as punishment. Denise poured overflowing shots of apple Crown Royal for us both. We were on our third round.

  “I hope this whole babysitting thing isn’t about to become a habit,” I told her.

  “Girl, my babysitting days and my Molly days are over. I’m not made for this kind of shit. I swear if Heather didn’t lick me like a—”

  I held my hand up for her to stop right there. “Eeew, too much information. I don’t want to hear about any of that.” I lowered my voice so the little ears in the other room wouldn’t pick up on my convo. “Tell me about all this
nasty shit that you’re into all of a sudden.”

  Denise gave me a serious look. Well, as serious as she could in her onesie.

  “Heather works hard for her paychecks, and she parties harder. Novie, she has niggas who will bow down and be our table while we eat. They be down there the whole time we’re eatin’ dinner or whatever. White, black, Asian. These niggas like that shit, and Novie.” She put one hand over her heart and raised the other like she was swearing on a Bible. “Hand to the sky, no lie. They pay her money—money, TVs, she even gets that green crack. We got some medicinal shit called Padussy from this one nigga, and I swear the blunt fucked me because I was knocked out.”

  “You can officially never say a word about anything I do. Y’all some freaks.”

  Denise stuck her tongue out and bounced her shoulders. “We some paid freaks, though. You are more than welcome to come work with us. I’d cut you in at fifteen percent of my fifty. You don’t smoke or pop pills, so you can help deflect dicks from goin’ up my butt when I’m lit.”

  Laughing, I flung a grape across the kitchen table. It bounced right off that heffa’s forehead.

  “I will pay you fifteen percent if I can avoid having to see any part of what I just visualized in my head in real life,” I choked out between chuckles.

  “Novie, I swear if you could see some of the men and women we fuck with, you’d stop laughing and climb onboard the butt-hole bandit wagon. They be finer than sugar.”

  When we finally stopped talking about Denise’s sexcapades, I gave her a rundown of my first day at work.

  “Well, at least this Genesis Kane is startin’ off on the right foot,” Denise said with a satisfied nod. “Do we need to run him through the little daddy-database before you decide to hop all up in his bed? Heather can probably see some shit in the computer. You know the DMV got all kinds of records on niggas these days.”

  “Girl, no, I don’t need y’all to look into or look up anything,” I told her.

  As tempting as it sounded, I wasn’t about to be one of those women who damn near stalked every man that came into her life. Even though it did sound like it would save me a ton of time by weeding out the no-good idiots early.

  “So, hypothetically, if she was gonna look, umm, what alls would she be able to see?” I asked before shaking my head. That was the liquor talking, not me. “See how you be tryin’ to start shit? That right there’s the reason why I don’t tell you anything,” I scolded her.

  We took our shots while my phone almost buzzed itself off the table.

  “Awww, is baby J callin’ to apologize?” Denise asked, while reaching for my phone.

  I snatched it up before she could get to it, taking off in the direction of the bathroom.

  “Hello?” I answered as I eased the door closed.

  “Novie?”

  I leaned back against my bedroom door pissed that I’d even bothered to answer.

  “Hey, Momma. What’s up?” I asked.

  “Look, some guys have been asking about your daddy. I already heard you’re working in that office, so what have you found out?”

  “Today was just my first day. There isn’t much that I can do in a day.”

  “Well, I need you to hurry up. Something’s going on, and it doesn’t feel right.” Her voice was whisper soft.

  “When I have something, you will too. I can’t rush in and mess up, or I’ll get thrown out.”

  Not to mention I wouldn’t get to hang around Genesis’s fine ass either. I hung up before she could say anything else.

  I was lost in my thoughts when the phone rang, flashing Genesis K.

  What could he possibly want?

  Bad enough I was a little tipsy. If he was about to give me some shit to do in the morning I’d need to focus.

  “Novie, I’m on my way to pick you up. We need to head over to Farrah’s,” he ordered.

  I giggled into the phone. “Good evening to you too, Mr. Boss Man. I thought I was off the clock, so I was doin’ grown-up shit, like drinking. I can’t go.”

  “Can you name any other job where you get paid to party?” he asked.

  “Umm, party planner, club promoter, DJ, liquor repr—”

  “That was a hypothetical question, Rainman. Get dressed. Put on that Rimondi cocktail dress we picked out, the red one. It’ll be perfect.”

  NOVIE

  15

  Cinderella Dressed in Yella

  Genesis gave me the evil eye while his chauffeur opened the door for me to get in. We needed to get one thing straight up front. My mother and father were not here. The last time I checked, I was very capable of dressing myself. To prove my point, I’d purposefully put on a canary-yellow dress with a low dipping neckline and plunging back. It was about a year old, but it still fit just right, hugging my hips, accenting my mermaid frame.

  He chuckled as I adjusted myself in the seat beside him.

  “Interesting choice,” he stated dryly.

  “Thank you. This felt like me, like it’d be more comfortable,” I told him in a sarcastically chipper voice.

  I knew I was doing too much. Trying to hide my nervousness made me feel even more clumsy and nervous. My clutch tipped over in the seat between Genesis and me. Lip gloss, loose change, and an emergency cigarette spilled over the leather seat. Genesis reached down and picked up the cigarette.

  “You didn’t strike me as a smoker. That shit’s nasty.”

  He tossed it out the window without any thought. I considered diving out the back door and hitting the cement rolling at sixty miles per hour just to get it back. So what if he thought it was nasty. It wasn’t his place to decide what I’d do with my body or my habits.

  We made the rest of the drive from my place to Farrah’s in silence. My eyes were glued to the window. I was silently pouting, pissed that he threw away my last smoke. Who does that? Who the fuck does that?

  Now that I didn’t have one, I was sure I’d need it. We rolled to a stop in front of a place called Fuerté. The building was made to look like a miniversion of the Roman Coliseum where the gladiators fought. It even had the crumbled part where half the upper wall on one side had fallen away. I’d seen it on E! and heard about it on TMZ. They had all these superstar chefs, and only the best of the best are there. Regular people had to spend at least a thousand just to get a table when celebrities and all the beautiful people got in and dined for damn near free.

  Red carpets and paparazzi lined the walkway in front of the restaurant that also doubled as a lounge. Men and women stopped to pose flashing teeth almost as right as the cameras flashing around them. Others rushed toward the limo-black tinted doors to get in as quickly as possible without being photographed.

  I noticed everyone walking in was dressed in various shades of red and burgundy. Genesis smirked down at me as he helped me out of the car.

  “If you’re colorblind, I can have a stylist come to you from now on if it’d help. Red seems to be the color of the year, so there will be more Red Parties. Otherwise, just go with my selections,” Genesis said.

  He adjusted the red vest underneath his tux and straightened the matching red bow tie at his neck. If I could choke him with that bow tie I would have. I stood out like a poorly dressed thumb in my dress that was the wrong color and several seasons too old. At least my face matched the theme of the night since I turned about thirty-five shades of red from embarrassment.

  Genesis made introductions to a few of the people who were walking in with us. A few men stopped to watch me walk past while the guys with dates snuck peeks at me out of the corner of their eye. I plastered my best smile on my face, deciding to make the best of an embarrassing situation. All the nigga had to do was tell me that the party had a color theme. That would have made a lot more sense than just ordering me to wear a certain dress.

  My irritation at Genesis slipped my mind once we got inside the building. The lights were so dim they might as well have been turned off. All of the booths lined up along the walls with silk red drape
ries that could be untied for privacy. Some of the booths had tables other had chaise lounges in front of cozy fireplaces with hot pink and purple electric flames.

  Loud trancelike music thumped in my ears. I fought against the urge to reach out and touch a giant metal lotus blossom. It was almost as tall as me sitting in the middle of the room with real flames shooting out of the center. A naked man slowly walked past making me gasp when I realized he was covered in flames from the neck down. I could see other flaming men and women moving carefully through the crowd.

  “He’s covered in a special kind of gel,” Genesis spoke into my ear. “We had to bring it in from Taiwan. It’s illegal, but legalities don’t stop us from getting whatever we want.”

  Someone mentioned how Farrah had gone in for tonight’s party; she’d spent close to a million. Shit, the last thing I’d do with a million dollars was set some people on fire. I was staring hard, trying to figure out what the lotus flowers were made of when someone caught my eye through the flames on the other side of the room. Swiss. What the hell was he doing here? He winked at me through the flicker of the flames. He’d pulled his locks up on top of his head in a tight ball. He looked good enough to eat and ride.

  I still hadn’t forgotten that he’d gone and had a baby with another bitch, but it’s not like we were together. Holding that against him would have been similar to him holding Javion against me. Life happened, and he just so happened to have made life in the process.

  “Novie, this is Farrah Harper,” Genesis interrupted.

  I managed to pull my eyes away from Swiss to meet Farrah.

  “Farrah, this is the newest addition to the team,” Genesis introduced me cordially.

  Farrah wasn’t anything like I’d expected. The friendly faced stocky woman walked around me looking me up and down. When she finally stopped in front of me, she gave me an approving nod.

  “They’ll never see the likes of you coming,” she said reaching around to smack my ass.