by Lena Scott
“No, it’s just a throwaway. Why you want pretty phone? You need Verizon. You got good credit? We got Verizon phones.”
“No, I need this kind. I was just askin’. You don’t need to be all up in my business.”
“Girl, don’t be up in here fightin’. That girl just aksed you a question.”
Tanqueray turned around and saw Kashawna, her best girlfriend. Squealing, they grabbed one another and did their traditional girlie jump. Kashawna was her girl from around the way, and they’d been friends since junior high. Nobody else on earth had as much dirt on Tanqueray as Kashawna, so there was a higher than normal level of trust between them. Hanging with Kashawna always made her feel better about life, even when life wasn’t kind to her.
“Let me buy this ugly phone, and then we can get the hell outta here.”
Tanqueray would admit to being depressed, if she would take a moment to do it, but that wasn’t about to happen. But the way Kashawna kept hugging her around her shoulder, it was as if she knew something was off.
Tomorrow would make a week since the house had been blown up, and during this week everything on earth seemed to go to hell with it. What was Unique doing about the insurance policy? She was falling off her game.
“Unique just isn’t doing what she needs to be doing with the paperwork. That’s her category. All them secretary jobs, you know, she needs to be, you know, doing the paperwork. But now she pro’ly been too busy messing with that fool Curtis. He’s always creeping around,” she explained to Kashawna, after paying for a round of drinks at their favorite pub.
Kashawna was her girl, on the real, ’cuz Tanqueray didn’t pay for nobody’s drinks.
“Curtis just be showing up and shit. I’m sure if he knew I was there he’da come by earlier. You know he wants my ass, but you know what . . . he can’t even kiss it!”
Kashawna burst into laughter, almost knocking over her very frilly pink lemonade. She’d had her nails freshly done and was doing everything, possible and impossible, to show them off.
Tanqueray needed a fill but didn’t even want to talk about all she needed, now that she didn’t have Omar to get it for her. Tanqueray felt it unbelievable how broke she was going to be now. Thank goodness, she knew how not to look it. The first thing she was doing in the morning was taking some of this money and getting a “mani-pedi” at the mall.
“Unique knows how to work a secondhand store fo’ sho,” Tanqueray said after relating the incident at Omar’s, leaving out nothing. Even the incident with Finest. “Yeah, I wear all her shit. She don’t evea go no whea! She even quit her new temp job, I think. I’m like, dayyyyum, what choo doing? She was like”—Tanqueray smacked her lips and put on a wild face, jerking her neck emphatically—“you could work too! I’m like, please . . . can you see me behind a desk?”
“I can see you up under it, or on top of it.” Kashawna laughed, covering her mouth shyly, and then going into a giggle. She got tipsy way too fast for Tanqueray’s liking.
“Wit’ the boss!” they both said at the same time.
Right then the door opened, and Finest came in.
“Umph, umph, umph!”
Kashawna looked around and then back at Tanqueray. “I know you are not talking about that piece of street that just walked in here. Girl, you a mess!”
“Girl, you just don’t know. That piece of street had me kicking out the streetlights.”
“You are straight up lyin’! Shut the fuck up! That’s the nigga?”
“You know it.”
Tanqueray had told Kashawna about the sex but avoided mention of her drug dealing. Although it was the norm for her to tell Kashawna everything, her drug use was just a hobby anyway, so she didn’t need to know.
Kashawna was cool and all that, but over the last few months she’d changed. She’d gotten a job and got engaged and was playing life pretty straight. Surely Tanqueray was the only bent crayon still in her box.
“So, you know, I was like, oh my God, I’ll never see him again.” Tanqueray pretended to gasp for air. “But then I was at the store the next day, and blam, nigga was there. And then last night, I was just out for a walk, and there he was. It was as if we never left each other’s arms.”
Kashawna laughed. “You so crazy.” She sipped her drink again.
Finest made his way to their table, taking possessive strides that claimed the occupants of that table. At least one of them.
“Hey,” he said, a crooked grin crossing his lips. “Must be fate.” He patted his chest as if feeling her in his heart.
“Aww! Lawd, no, he does not have mouth jewelry,” Kashawna said, unable to hold it in.
Tanqueray kicked her under the table.
“Apparently, girl, you ain’t never had a diamond in your . . . ruff.” Finest sucked his teeth, showing his prowess.
Kashawna fanned herself, having been put in her place. She was gonna stay out of it for now. She looked at her watch. “Ohh, girl, it’s time for America’s Next Top Model. I have to get home. Me and Brent, my fiancé, always watch that together on cable.”
She was lying. Wasn’t nothing like that on TV at this hour, but Tanqueray let her excuse herself gracefully, dragging her bag from the seat and scurrying off, giving Tanqueray the call-me sign before leaving.
Tanqueray, holding onto her shop-girl persona, twisting her glass on the coaster, asked Finest, “So, how was your day?”
“You sounding like wifey,” he replied, sliding under the table.
The waitress was there within seconds.
Looking deadly sexy, he told her, “I was here looking for somebody. He ain’t here. Nothing for me.”
Tanqueray was creaming all over the place. Never had a man affected her this way. She was sprung in the worst way. Maybe it was the good coke he seemed to always be connected with, or the good sex. Maybe it was the combination of the two. At any rate, Finest had her nose wide open, and she loved it.
“You want another one?” the waitress asked.
Tanqueray looked at Finest, who cocked his head ever so slightly, as if giving her a new sign to read, one that relayed his sexual intentions.
“No, I’m good. I’m all paid up right. Right. Thanks.” Tanqueray gathered her bag from under the table.
Finest reached for what was left of her cocktail and downed it, grimacing at the sweetness.
Tanqeray giggled before catching herself. Yeah, she was sprung.
They barely made it into the backseat of the SUV parked outside the back of the club, but Tanqueray was wide open and ready to receive him. He unzipped his heavy jeans and, without even taking them off all the way, went at her sex as if on a mission, grunting and cursing her, pounding and drilling until he reached oil, which she gushed liked a broken cistern.
“Damn, baby!” he purred, releasing his juices into her hot receptive river. “You feel like love.”
“What’s love gotta do?” she said, running her hands down his thighs and into his pockets, digging for some blow.
After together they snorted the cocaine and returned to the front seat of the SUV, Finest lowered the window, releasing the funk they’d created.
He asked her, “What if one day blow wadn’t in my pocket, would you still let me hit that?”
“Hell no!”
His smile diminished slightly, but when she pulled his ear, he again grinned.
“You know I would. I’m diggin’ you, boo.” She giggled. “I told my girlfriend you done become my dick from heaven. Shit!”
“From heaven, huh?”
“Yeah. You and me must be something from somewhere out this here place because we making magic fo’ sho.”
“What if I take you with me today? You wanna ride wit’ me. I was on my way to collect up some of Dub’s money.”
“Hell yeah, I’ll ride. Dub treating you right?” she asked, knowing she was getting personal, but hell, they had gotten pretty personal a few minutes ago. And by the looks of things they may have to get a little personal again befo
re they took off on Dub’s dealings.
“Yeah, he treating me fine. I asked him about you.”
“You did? What did he tell you?”
“Nothing I don’t already know.” Finest smiled wickedly.
“Well he’s a fuckin’ lie too.”
“How you know what he told me?” Finest laughed, realizing he had her.
Tanqueray reached over and down into the front of Finest’s jeans. He squirmed slightly to allow her a grab hold of his manhood. He smiled at her.
“But he ain’t never lied about the sugar being sweet.” Finest kissed her on the cheek tenderly.
Tanqueray bent over to work a little magic on his stiff member.
As she smoked him, he leaned back in the seat. “I know Suga ain’t your name. What it is, baby?” he asked, stroking her hair. “Tell yo’ boy Finest what your name is.”
Tanqueray ignored the question. She’d only allowed him to call her Suga. That was good enough. It wasn’t as if they were married.
Finest was taking a while to come, and soon Tanqueray tired and pulled back to her seat.
“We’ll ‘finest’ that later.” He grinned. After pulling in the lot to the club that he apparently was on his way to, he looked at her. “What’s your name, baby? You didn’t suck my memory out my dick. I still wanna know.”
“I can’t believe you are asking me that. You don’t even know my real name. Fuck you, Finest!” Tanqeray laughed at the question as if she had told him before and he had forgotten. She had no idea why he was asking and wasn’t about to answer.
After walking around to her side, Finest took her hand. She climbed out. She didn’t look as cute as she wanted to, but oh well, times were hard. He glanced at her nails and noticed her manicure had slipped. He smiled and played it off, and so did she.
When they reached the door, the bouncer didn’t ask any questions and just let them both in.
A mixed Asian girl slid her leg up Finest’s thigh, totally disregarding Tanqueray’s presence. “Hey, baby. Why you no call me?”
Finest pushed her leg off and called her a bitch before continuing on their way down the stairs to the darkened basement-like area, wading through the crowd until reaching the VIP entrance.
Tanqueray pulled back the curtain and glanced around, seeing only the eyes of females bearing down on her. So much hate. She was used to it though. Haters, hate on!
Y’all hatin’ me even in Wal-Mart specials. Shit! I know I got it going on then.
The room was heavy with the familiar lingering yay, hubbas, and “white girl” funk that she was used to in clubs like this. But the sight of all the pipes and pills sitting around on tables told her this was going to be a new kind of party.
Getting comfortable on the shag rug that covered the floor, Finest removed his dark glasses and immediately threw back some reds and blues with a shot of Hennessy that he’d poured himself from the open bottle.
A dark woman leaned forward to pour him a second drink.
He told her, “You know I’m here to collect my money.”
“Yeah, I figured that. Just don’t be fightin’ up in here, and we’ll all be all right. I haven’t seen Red tonight, and so, just relax, chill with your girl, and take it one hour at a time. Ain’t seen Gold around. You seen him?”
“I ain’t his bitch.”
The woman grinned. “Neither am I,” she said smartly, and the two of them chuckled wickedly. She glanced at Tanqueray and smiled, holding out the bottle for Tanqueray to get comfy and fill one of the empty glasses on the low table.
There weren’t many blacks here, and even this black woman looked as if she hadn’t been near the West End or the P recently, with her Jamaica T-shirt and dreads. Nobody in the hood wore that stuff.
“I’ma kill Red’s ass if he don’t have my money.” Finest took a deep breath, as if trying to fight off the immediate effects of the drugs in his system.”
“Baby girl, you need to get your man under control, okay?” The woman poured Tanqueray a drink. Her nails were long and pretty the way Tanqueray normally wore hers.
Tanqueray just smiled at the woman as if to say, “He’s a man. I don’t control him.”
Finest held a pipe out to Tanqueray. “Hit it, baby.”
Tanqueray had never tried crystal meth before, but she was game. Like a pro, she hit the pipe without hesitation. And the room spun, as the high took her beyond.
Everyone in that VIP room howled and clapped as Tanqueray climbed up on the bar and performed that night. Finest didn’t know she was a stripper, but he found out that night and seemed pretty impressed. At least, that’s the way she remembered it.
Except for the excitement of the room, and the rhythm of a drum beat, Tanqueray didn’t remember much.
Unique
It had been a long summer, but this night made it all worthwhile. Sinclair had already called and said she’d be back tomorrow afternoon, and even though Unique hadn’t heard anything from Tanqueray, she had a feeling she’d be slinking in sooner or later too. It didn’t matter though.
Unique had showered and was waiting for Curtis to finish taking his. She heard the water stop a while ago, but he hadn’t yet come to bed. She started to get up and see if there was a problem, but before she could even slip into her robe, he came into the bedroom.
“What took you so long?”
He smiled. She could see his teeth shining even in the darkness.
“I was getting funky fresh for my baby.”
“Ahh.” She played along, turning her head so that his kiss would catch her cheek.
Curtis then kissed her neck and shoulder.
The fan blew a cool breeze over the room, but Curtis heated her up faster than the cool air could neutralize the room, and she was getting caught up. He groped between her legs roughly, causing her to yelp slightly but recover fast enough with a sensual purr. She held on tight, inhaling his fresh scent while he fingered her to wetness, lifting her leg to allow him manual entrance.
Finally he aimed his hardness in the general direction of her heat. She backed away, taking him with her to the bed, and falling backwards.
He climbed on her without hesitation and rose up to retrieve his waiting condom from the nightstand. He slid into it and entered her without saying anything or even kissing her, but that was his way.
Unique quietly moaned and gasped, saying his name over and over in his ear, meeting his passion, which came rough and fast. He wasn’t a graceful lover, but he got the job done. He scratched Unique’s itches, and those he missed, she made sure he got on the second round.
Just then her door opened. Curtis had forgotten to lock it.
“Mama!” Cammie was crying.
“Cammie!” Unique pushed Curtis off her and pulled the cover over her naked body. She noticed Curtis was slow to cover up his stiff dick, and so she quickly threw the cover over him. Thank God, it was dark in the room, and Cammie probably didn’t see much. “What’s wrong, girl?”
“I’m scared! I’m scared! The devil is gonna get me.” Cammie’s eyes, dancing between her and Curtis, were wide with a terror Unique had never seen before in her child.
Curtis was gulping air, running his fingers through his hair.
Unique pulled her robe from the chair and slid it on before taking her child by the shoulder and leading her to her room. She did notice that Marquis wasn’t on the sofa, but she didn’t have time to deal with that right now.
“The devil, Mama . . . he’s gonna get me.”
“Shhh!” Unique tucked her back into her bed.
Apple and Gina were sleeping soundly, so Unique was even more confused at Cammie’s outburst. Maybe she had gas from dinner, even though she really didn’t eat much. She hadn’t been eating much all week.
“You sick?”
Cammie covered her face and began to cry. She seemed devastated and filled with despair.
“Cammie, stop crying. Stop crying,” she said, trying to be firm yet soothing.
Curti
s appeared at the door. “She gon’ be fine. Come back to bed, baby.”
At the sound of his voice, Cammie looked up and then quickly climbed in the bed, pulling the cover up to her neck.
“Oh, you go to bed when Curtis comes to the door, huh,” Unique said, feeling a little loss of control. But children always responded faster to a strong man in the house. She stroked Cammie’s forehead and kissed her. She hadn’t kissed Cammie in a long time, but tonight she felt as if she should.
Cammie seemed to know it came from love. She shuddered and sniveled, but calmed down enough for Unique to feel as though she could leave the room.
“I wonder why she was crying like that?” she asked, on the way back to the room.
Curtis squeezed her butt. “But you took care of it, kissing and all that. That turned me on. Ohh, mama, my dick needs a kiss,” he whispered in her ear.
Unique giggled. “You so nasty.”
They made love again, but Unique couldn’t get Cammie’s face out of her mind the rest of the night.
She heard Tanqueray come in well after two a.m., cussing and opening the fridge, but she didn’t hear Marquis come in. Soon after that, she drifted off.
The West End
Ms. Jackson decided today would be a great day for a barbecue. Her house was in the middle of the block and had a big yard in the front. Her fence was in sore need of repair, and she needed to just tear it down, because it made the house look even more raggedy. But she kept it up, what was left of it.
Her son Jamal had done some time a few years back, maybe about six years or so, and was still living at home. He’d used his ex-con status as his reason for not being able to get a job ever again in life. For the most part, it probably was true, especially since he’d not fully removed himself from the life he lived prior to going to the pen. He was a bad actor. Everybody knew it, except Ms. Jackson. She either didn’t know or didn’t want to accept it. Otherwise she wouldn’t have had him up in her house, still running game and slanging yay. But a mama’s love goes deep sometimes.
