Crooked G's

by S. K. Collins

  Latrice followed Fantasy to the front of the club. Fantasy walked inside the window booth and handed Latrice a ticket. “Thank you,” Latrice said as she put the ticket in her purse. “One more thing before I go, Fantasy. Do you think there’s a way you could introduce me to Clarity tonight? I’m starting up a label and I wanted to holler at her about it.”

  “I could do that, but you know help ain’t always free these days,” Fantasy said as she raised her left eyebrow. Latrice understood what she was getting at and had no problem paying her for a favor. She had to sign Clarity. She reached in her purse once more and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill.

  “Will this do?” Latrice asked as she gave Fantasy the money.

  “This’ll do just fine.” Fantasy smiled as she clutched the money in her hand. “I’ll make sure you get a one-on-one with Clarity after the show.”

  “Good looking out. I got to be going now. I’ll see you later.” Latrice waved goodbye to Fantasy and walked out the door. Now she was on to the next order of business.

  CHAPTER 5

  Shakita quickly took her eyes off the road to look down at her ringing cell phone and saw that Latrice was calling her. She decided not to answer the phone. She didn’t know how to tell her she’d blown away all of Bay’s money. She felt bad for putting her friend in a bad situation, but she couldn’t do any apologizing yet. She had one more scheme she had to try first before she went to Latrice. If she could get all the money back, then she wouldn’t have to tell Latrice anything. She needed some fast cash and the person she could turn to during extremely rough times was Eric.

  Eric had been so many things to her long before Kam. She used to work for him prior to becoming his lover. She wanted to leave her troubled past behind but couldn’t yet. She needed Eric more than ever and couldn’t afford to be foolish by being stubborn. She made the call to Eric and he picked up on the third ring.

  “Hello.”

  “Is this Eric?” she asked softly.

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s Shakita.”

  “What’s up, Petita Shakita? How are you doing?” he said in a playful tone.

  Shakita hated when he called her Petita Shakita. She knew he only called her that because it rhymed, but she still thought it was corny of him to say. Shakita was built extremely well and was damn sure far from being petite.

  “I’m okay, but I need to talk to you about something. Is there a place I could meet you?” she asked anxiously.

  “There sure is. You know where I’m at.”

  “You know my door is always open for you.”

  “That’s what I was hoping. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Shakita hung up the phone and started concentrating on driving again.

  She lit up another cigarette attempting to soothe her nerves. Shakita hated stooping low to work for Eric, but she had to until she made enough money to go gambling again. She figured once she made it back to the casino, she could win big. She believed it in her heart and no one could tell her any different. She was born a risk-taker and that’s what risk-takers did.

  Shakita parked her green Explorer in a parking garage on Nineteenth Street NW. Eric owned The Black Emporium, which was on the same street. The Black Emporium was an upscale gentleman spa that serviced from getting a massage to having your wildest sexual fantasy fulfilled. Shakita hated to come to this place. It absolutely wasn’t for her. She was much more of a mover and shaker than waiting to play someone’s submissive whore. Yet, she had to revert back to her past in order to fix her future. She sighed deeply and then thought back on the day she first met Eric.

  THREE YEARS EARLIER

  Shakita stuffed her hands in her jacket as the sudden drop in temperature caught her offguard. She continued to step carefully through the snow as she headed to her bank’s automatic teller machine. “Please let me have something in here,” she said as she placed the card into the machine. Her face quickly drooped as she stared at the screen. Two dollars and thirty cents? I can’t do shit with that, she stressed.

  Anxiety had started to get the best of her as she yearned for a cigarette. She had no more money on her, and would have to endure the long bus ride home before she would be able to smoke again. She started to stomp toward the bus stop as the cold air nipped at her ears. There was a small blue-and-orange object in the snow that managed to get her attention. She leaned over to get a closer look, and to her surprise it was a PNC debit card. She picked it up and felt that the card was still warm, and guessed that it had been dropped recently. It might not have been canceled yet, she thought to herself.

  She quickly looked around to see if anyone had seen her pick up the card. She saw no one in the area, so she placed the card in her pocket and rushed down the street to 7-Eleven. She didn’t want to use the card to do big shopping. She only wanted to make a few small purchases and throw it away. She didn’t know how much was in the account and didn’t care either. Stealing money from a regular individual wasn’t what she was into. She needed to get by for the moment. “Can I have two packs of Newports in a box, please,” she said to the clerk.

  When the total displayed on the screen, she nervously swiped the card and then pressed “cancel” to give her the pay-by-credit option. She was relieved when the transaction was completed. She placed the cigarettes in her purse and headed for the door. The blue-and-red scratch-off lottery ticket machine by the door stopped her in her tracks.

  “One or two tickets won’t hurt,” she whispered as she made her selection and then swiped the card. She removed the two five-dollar Winner Take All scratch-offs from the machine and then left the store.

  “Excuse me, miss,” Shakita heard a man call her from behind. She presumed it was a homeless person asking for change. She was ready to tell them she didn’t have anything to spare and then be on her way.

  When she turned around to speak, her words got caught in her throat, as she stared at the extremely eye-catching man before her. She knew right away from his burnt-orange, custom-made leather jacket, and one-karat diamond earring that he couldn’t have been impoverished. His facial features were carved to perfection making him one of the most attractive men she had ever seen. He was Reggie Bush brown with hazel eyes. He was any woman’s fantasy and every man’s nightmare. No man could trust their woman enough to even ask him for driving directions if they were lost. Any woman had no other choice but to be captivated by his lure and presence, Shakita being no exception.

  “I dropped my card at the ATM machines around the corner and I saw you pick it up. Can I have it back, please?”

  “And your name is?” she asked timidly, wanting to make sure the name he said matched the card.

  “Eric. Eric Falls.”

  Oh shit, she said to herself. “I’m so sorry. Here you go,” she said as she handed him his card.

  “Thank you.” He quickly smiled. “So do you always use people’s cards you don’t know to buy cigarettes and scratch-offs?”

  “I swear I’ve never done anything like this before. I was out of money. I needed a cigarette really bad. Oh my God, this is so embarrassing,” she said, covering her face with her hands. “I can pay you back. I really didn’t mean for this to happen.”

  Eric sensed her reaction was real. He didn’t see her to be the conniving type. What he saw was a beautiful young woman who had fallen on rough times. He presumed all she needed was a break—an opportunity that he could effortlessly provide. That was if she wanted it.

  “Instead of paying me back I have a small proposition for you.”

  Shakita looked at him sideways and placed her hand on her hip. “Please don’t tell me you want me to have sex with you, so I can avoid you pressing charges? I don’t get down like that.”

  He grinned. “That’s not what I had in mind. I want you to see if you won anything with the scratch-offs. If so, you can pay me back that way.”

  “And what if I don’t win anything?”

  “Then you let me take you to dinner. Is that a deal?”
/>
  “Just dinner?”

  “Just dinner and good conversation. I promise.”

  Okay, Mr. Eric Falls. Either way it looks like the odds are in your favor, she said to herself as she reached in her purse for the tickets.

  She used the tip of her nail and scratched away at the first ticket until all the numbers were visible. “Nothing on this one.” She frowned. “Let’s see about this other one.” She started to scratch away on the second ticket as Eric looked on. Her eyes grew wide at the results. “I won ten dollars. Wow, I never win with these things,” she exclaimed.

  “Well, maybe I’m your lucky charm.”

  “Maybe you are. It’s all yours now,” she said, handing him the ticket.

  “Thank you,” he said, putting it in his pocket. “I still want to take you to dinner, if that’s all right with you.”

  Her hunger pangs kicked in with the simple mention of food. She thought Eric was a nice guy and probably good company to be around. She had nothing to lose, and going to dinner with him would give her a chance to prove she wasn’t a bad person, either. She smiled. “Dinner is fine.”

  “Great. So would you like to go now, or should I pick you up later?”

  “We can go now,” she said as her stomach lightly growled.

  “Perfect. I have a good place in mind. It’s actually not too far from here. We can walk there if you don’t mind.”

  “Okay.”

  “First, before we go, I would like to start over. We need to have a formal introduction.” He extended his hand. “Hello, my name is Eric. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Hello, Eric. My name is Shakita. It’s nice to meet you as well.” She smiled as she clasped his hand. They both started walking and getting to know each other. This was the beginning of their remarkable relationship.

  • • •

  “Good evening, Mr. Falls. We have a table ready for you,” the maître d’ greeted as they stepped inside The Palm Restaurant. Shakita was surprised that the host knew Eric by name. As they were led to their table, Eric engaged in short conversations with very distinguished-looking male patrons. She realized Eric had to be someone of importance. They were finally seated in a glass-enclosed private room. Shakita sat at the table in awe as she took in the panoramic city view. She had never been in such a classy setting and started to feel out of place. She tugged at her clothes as Eric took notice.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’ve never been in a restaurant like this before. When you said dinner, I thought you were talking about a diner or somewhere like that. I’m so underdressed. Everything on this menu is so expensive. The sauce for the steaks is fifteen dollars. That’s crazy. Fifteen dollars for sauce?”

  Eric chuckled at Shakita’s innocent concerns. He found it attractive that such a pretty girl had yet to really experience life. She was so unaccustomed to the fine conditions he was easily privileged to that he instinctively wanted to spoil her. He looked at her like she was a warm ball of clay that could be molded to his liking. He could put her on an elite status like he had done for so many women before her, only if she were willing.

  “It’s okay. You’re dressed fine. Don’t be afraid of the prices. Please order whatever makes your stomach happy. If I were you, I would get the filet mignon. It’s amazing.”

  “Okay.” She then checked the price of the steak. She shook her head realizing she had never eaten anything that expensive. The waiter came to the table and took their order. Shakita took a deep breath and smiled at Eric as their dinner date began.

  After a few glasses of merlot, Shakita was completely at ease. Her stomach was full of the best-tasting steak she’d ever had, as well as being completely saturated by Eric’s nifty charm. She loved how his words flowed from his mouth so smooth and effortlessly. She was so intrigued with Eric that she wanted to know everything about him, most importantly, what type of work he was into.

  “So Eric, tell me. What profession are you in? And how do you know these people that are in here?” she asked as she sipped her wine.

  Eric grinned as he placed his glass down on the table. “Well, I’m actually in a few professions. Those gentlemen you saw were clients of mine. I provide them special services.”

  “And what special services would those be?”

  “Let me ask you this first. Have you ever heard of The Black Emporium?”

  “No. What is that?”

  “It’s a spa that provides female companionship.”

  Shakita was in shock. “You run an escort service?”

  “Not just an escort service. I like to call it an upscale pampering shop.”

  “Oh my God. I thought you were a lawyer or something.”

  “I was a lawyer, but now I’m an entrepreneur that serves the whole district. And those men you saw me talking to, guess what they do? They’re members of Congress.”

  “Are you serious? You‘re involved in some straight-up Scandal-type shit. Have you met the real Olivia Pope?”

  “Nope, and I’m not trying to either.”

  “Wow. What you do is so mind-blowing. I would have never imagined. How long have you been doing this?”

  “I’ll be celebrating five years in February. This business has been really good to me. I’ve been blessed with a great staff.”

  “So I guess your girls do pretty well for themselves?”

  “They most certainly do.” He grinned, taking notice of Shakita’s increased curiosity.

  “Let me ask you a question, Shakita. Have you ever stripped before?”

  “No, but the way they be balling, I can honestly say I’ve thought about it plenty of times. Those hoes are out here winning.”

  “Believe me. My girls do more than ball out. They make more money in one month than most people make in a whole year. I think you should come check the spot out and see what you think about it. I guarantee with your raw beauty, you could do really well there.”

  Shakita never thought about working in a sex shop. Having sex for money was something that she always frowned upon. Now that she was eighteen, she’d started looking at the world in a whole new scope. Everyone that she knew with money was getting it the fast way. She was tired of struggling to keep her lights on while the hustlers thrived on the streets. Playing scratch-off lottery tickets wouldn’t get her any real money, unless she was lucky. She figured working in a sex shop would get her in a better place, at least financially. She looked at Eric with hungry eyes as her curiosity continued to peak.

  “So tell me more about The Black Emporium.”

  “I honestly would rather show you than tell you. Would you like to see it?”

  “I think so.” She scrunched up her face as nervous energy flowed through her.

  “Well, let me take you there and if you don’t like it, we can leave. Is that a deal?”

  “I guess so.” She smiled as she shrugged her shoulders.

  “Okay then. Let’s finish up this wine and be off.”

  Shakita didn’t have any clue about the type of environment Eric would take her into, but felt he could be trusted. Eric filled up her glass as he prepared her for a life-changing experience.

  • • •

  Nine months had gone by and Shakita had quit working at The Black Emporium five times already. What she encountered there was too much for her to handle. Eric paid her well exactly like he’d promised, but it was what he didn’t mention up front that made her detest his entire establishment. Not only was Eric a business owner, but he was also a drug dealer and pimp. He made his girls do drug runs all across the country. His girls had to have sex with the drug bosses, and then with the hustlers to whom delivered the product. Eric wanted to please his clientele on both ends, which he felt represented a superior business model.

  Eric had as many clients coming through The Black Emporium as he did out in the streets. He controlled a sizeable prostitution ring that stretched all the way to Pittsburgh. Eric sought after clients who were too ashamed, or feared being seen by someone
they knew walking into a sex shop. Eric understood that discretion was every customer’s number one demand, and he was more than willing to fulfill their request, as long as a dollar amount was attached.

  Shakita’s gambling addiction got worse once she started working at The Black Emporium. Some of the other girls took weekly trips to Atlantic City and Shakita started going with them. The rush she got after winning five thousand dollars from a slot machine sent her over the edge. Scratch-off tickets were a thing of the past as she graduated to where the real money was being won: high-stakes gambling. The more she played, the further her addiction took control of her unbalanced life. She never wanted to return to the one place that had given her so much, but so little at the same time. Shakita declared that the last time she left The Black Emporium, it would be wiped clean from her memory, but once again she was back.

  • • •

  Shakita walked into the front door and saw that everything was actually the same as it was when she’d left there nine months ago. As she opened up the custom-made, wrought-iron door, she could smell the aroma of fresh-cut roses that were neatly dispersed throughout the structure. The scent from the roses interlaced with the perfume selection of the day that was used to increase the arousal of all male suitors. The walls in the spa were made of white marble with a fourteen-karat, gold-speckled pattern. All the decorations and furniture were inspired by ancient Rome with Julius Caesar-accented affiliations. The Black Emporium was the most beautiful, devilish nirvana that was wrapped up in four walls, and Shakita simply despised it.

  Shakita walked past rows and rows of waiting clients as she walked to the receptionist desk. All the men looked at her with wondering eyes hoping she would be the girl whose services they would pay for. Shakita could feel their eyes on her, but she intentionally avoided looking at them, not wanting to provoke their yearning. The men continued to stare at her ass as she stood at the counter in her Lucky Brand jeans.

  “I’m here to see Eric,” Shakita said to the unfamiliar female receptionist.