Jason reached across the table and squeezed her hand, “You deserve every blessing you get Mama and then some.”
“Well speaking of your brothers coming home,” Dorenda looked into Jason’s eyes and then into Zay’s.
“What’s up Ma?” Zay questioned, knowing full well the direction that she was taking the conversation.
“One thing you two know about me is I’m not dumb and I don’t claim to be a saint. I know what you do has afforded this family a wonderful life yet it has also taken eighteen years of your brothers’ lives. You two have successful businesses that continue to do well, but you can’t keep one foot in the door at your companies and the other in the streets.” Pausing for a second, she inhaled, exhaled and continued, “I don't want your brothers coming home and one or both of you going to prison or even worse me having to bury you.”
At two different times over the eighteen year period three of Dorenda’s sons were incarcerated at the same time. Fifteen years earlier Zay did a year and a half stint in state prison and when he got out Jason went in for a two year bid. Dorenda just wanted all four of her sons home at the same time.
Zay looked his mother square in the face, “Ma, I’m pretty much done and by the time Tony and Rico get home I’ll be completely done.”
“I’m so happy to hear that,” Dorenda exclaimed, then to look at her youngest son, “And what about you?”
“I can’t give you an exact retirement date Ma, but I’m working on one.”
“Well, while you’re working on it think of those two little girls,” she pointed at Keeba and Mariah playing in the yard.
“I do think of them, they’re the reason I put my life on the line.”
“When your brothers went away their children were toddlers and now they will be coming home to adults. Do want to go through the same thing?”
Not wanting such a happy brunch to be marred by the escalating conversation, Zay interjected, “Don’t worry about him Ma, I’ll work on him. Now let’s enjoy all this good food you cooked.”
Agreeing, Dorenda reluctantly moved onto another topic while thinking, we will finish this conversation, maybe not today, tomorrow, or next week, but we will finish.
***
The evening’s event at the Luxe Penthouse was yet another membership building drive. It wasn’t as over the top as the grand opening, but it was still luxurious and upscale. Even in Evan’s absence her staff did a magnificent job on the food service end with an array of fabulous choices. Bev had the bar, the waitresses, and gambling areas moving like a well-oiled machine. The only thing left for Joey to do was charm the non-members into buying a membership.
Joey worked the room in an orange backless wide legged YSL halter jumpsuit and a pair of green snakeskin Lorezi Platform pumps. Many of the night’s guest loved her and she had them eating out of her palms. It was a packed house and memberships were selling quite well. Dawhar was there along with some of his friends from the league. Joey was elated when she approached their poker table and Dawhar told her, “My people love the spot.” Smiling widely, he could feel every bit of the liquor coursing through his system.
“I’m glad to hear that,” she gave them a winning smile while shaking their hands as Dawhar introduced each of them.
“They love it so much,” Dawhar slurred. “They all want to join.”
“How excellent!” she clasped her hands together and bowed over in excitement. “What are y’all drinking?” She waved over the head member service hostess and a waitress.
“Patron,” Dawhar replied trying to divert his eyes away from her body.
Joey’s pretty face, tanned skin, and dangerous curves increased his attraction for her every time that he saw her. He’d wanted her since first laying eyes on her two years earlier. His wife was a non-factor in decisions regarding where he stuck his dick. He definitely didn’t care about Joey’s husband although he should’ve.
“Whatcha need boss lady?” the sinfully curved thick waitress asked.
“Bring these gentlemen a bottle of Patron and Ace. Charge it to my account.
As the waitress left to fill the order, the head membership hostess, Isadora, approached the poker table. An absolute chocolate beauty, Isadora rocked an expertly cut chin length blue black bob. She was perfection in a peach and lavender Hervé Leger bodycon dress. The six inch Fendi sling backs elongated her well-toned long legs. Drool was nearly dripping from the men’s mouths as they ogled over her.
Joey smiled at the men’s reaction to Isadora whose official job title was assistant manager of Luxe night life. Hailing from Atlanta she’d help to run some of Atlanta’s most exclusive night spots. She was second in line to Bev, but Joey pulled her from behind the scenes thinking it will be hard for a man to say no to a woman as beautiful as Isadora.
“All of these gentlemen would like to get a membership,” Joey told Isadora. “Can you take care of them for me?”
“Of course,” Isadora flashed a million watt smile with her iPad in her hand as she went around the table explaining the member levels, gathering info, and swiping their credit cards through the magnetic reader affixed to the top of the tablet. Once done Isadora returned to Joey, who was chatting with Dawhar about much of nothing.
“Okay, Joey I sold one gold, two platinum, and one black elite membership. I’ve taken their payment, but we are completely out of membership cards on the floor.”
“That is not a problem I'll grab some from my office.”
“I’ll go with you,” Dawhar offered, jumping at the opportunity to be alone with her.
“That’s okay. Itwill only take a moment.”
“I wanna go, plus you never gave me the full tour.” he insisted.
“If you insist,” Joey shrugged. She had no qualms about letting someone who’d brought in more than sixty thousand dollars in membership take a stroll to her office.
Dawhar was a jovial drunk, joking and laughing while they were on the elevator ride down to the headquarters floor. Joey slid her access key down the slot next to the doorknob, opened the door, and flipped the lights switch up.
“This shit is fresh,” Dawhar marveled at the luxuriously decorated and furnished modern space. “This don't even look like an office.”
“Thank you,” Joey said taking a seat behind her desk. “This will only take a sec.” She unlocked the middle drawer on the right desk panel and took out a long cardboard box. She counted out fifteen cards for each level of membership. Only a limited amount of the unregistered coveted cards were allowed on the floor at one time. The rest were under lock and key at all times. Joey dropped the box back into the drawer and locked it.
“I’m ready,” she swiveled her chair to the right to stand, but was startled by Dawhar’s mid-section that was only inches from her nose. In utter shock she blurted, “Dawhar what in the hell are you doing?”
“You are so sexy. I’ve been wanting you for so long.” he caressed the left side of her face.
Joey slapped his hand away, “Ayo what the fuck is wrong with you yo!”
“Cut it out you know that you want me too. I see the way you look at me.” he leaned to kiss her.
Pushing back in the chair, she mushed his face back. “Get out of my office right now!” she demanded loudly. “You’re drunk and you need to leave.” She pointed at the door.
Leering at her, an evil scowl spread across Dawhar’s face. He closed his hand into a tight fist. In that instant Joey felt in imminent danger. Dawhar backhanded her, knocking her out the chair and onto the floor face first. He grabbed her hair, “Bitch get up,” he pulled her up to her knees and ripped the top of her jumpsuit. Using his free hand he fondled her bare chest. “Hmm they’re softer than imagined. Let’s see if that mouth is as wet as it looks.”
Dazed from the backhand Joey’s vision was foggy, but she could see that he was unzipping his pants. Panicked, a jolt of adrenaline cleared her sight as she began clawing at his hand in an attempt to free herself from his tight grasp. “Let me go,
” she cried out while desperately trying to wiggle away.
“Be still bitch,” he slapped her. “Open your mouth,” he growled, his stumpy stiff erect penis protruding from his pants.
Joey clinched her jaws together firmly locking her jaws, she refused to open her mouth. Dawhar punched Joey striking her nose and mouth.
She slumped to the ground where she caught a quick glimpse of her purse beneath her desk. Once more he snatched her up by her hair and rubbed his genitals against her face. Squeezing her face he continued to try to force her mouth ajar. “Open up bitch,” he said, foam forming in the corners of his mouth.
Squirming she tried to keep his dick from touching her face as she fumbled through her purse with her left hand. Come on, come on, she thought, where is it? Tears began to fall as realized she was fighting a losing battle. Her fingers tips grazed the item that she was searching for, thank God. Joey snatched her hand from her purse producing a black stun gun. Sticking it firmly against Dawhar’s outer thigh and with a push of the button she released 50,000 volts into his body. Dawhar collapsed onto his back shaking and convulsing horribly.
Panting hard, she held onto the desk, and pulled herself up. Joey picked up the receiver and dialed Bev’s extension.
Recognizing the extension Bev answered quickly, “Hey Joey what do you need?”
“Come to my office. Bring security.”
“Are you ok?”
“No. Please hurry!” Joey placed the receiver on the hook. She looked at Dawhar in a semi-conscious state as he moaned and gurgled. Anger filled Joey’s body; she picked up the heavy multiline phone and slammed it down onto his head.
“You perverted muthafucka,” she kicked and stomped him with the one shoe that she still hand on. Losing her footing, she slipped and landed on her ass. Falling made her angrier. On her knees she scrambled to his head, swinging madly she hammered his face and chest with her fist and forearms.
Bev burst through the door. “Joey,” she shrieked. Slipping out of her blazer Bev rushed over, wrapped the blazer around Joey’s shoulders, and drug her away from Dawhar. Seconds later four security guards stormed the room only to be flabbergasted by the sight of the NFL star stretched out on the floor. Taking notice of Joey’s blood smeared swelling face, Bev asked, “Sweetheart, what happened in here?”
Trembling Joey stammered, “He-he-he,” she struggled to get the words out, “he tried to rape me.” She buried her face into Bev’s chest so that the guards would not see her crying.
“Get him outta here,” Bev ordered. The star struck guards were slow to move. “What are you standing there for! I said get him out here NOW!” she roared. With some pep they each took hold of a limb and carried him out. “I'll call the police,” she said reached for phone clipped to her waist band.
“No police,” Joey told her. “We’ve had enough bad publicity.”
Bev knew that it wasn’t just about the bad publicity. She came from a family and neighborhood that didn’t believe in running to the police. They solved their own problems. “At some point you should report this; he doesn’t need to get away with this. Do you want me to call Zay?”
“Not yet, I have to get my head together first. I have to tell him my way or else he will kill that man.” Joey was telling the truth; though Zay wasn’t menacingly violent he was in a line of work that could call for violence at the drop of a dime. On more than one occasion Zay had to resort to violence. In the beginning of their relationship Joey had bared witness to her husband killing a man. Therefore, she knew exactly what he was capable of.
“The only thing that I want is Dawhar off the property and for you to keep the event going smoothly.”
“Are you sure? I don't think you should be alone right now.”
“Yes, I’m okay to hide out in here until closing.”
“Alright, I’ll be back to check on you shortly.” Bev moved for the door.
“Bev,” Joey called out to her.
“Yes,” she looked back.
“Thank you.”
“There is nothing to thank me for. But you are welcome.”
Joey went into her office bathroom, when she saw her reflection in the mirror she was mortified. Not only was she swelling, she could see the onset of purple bruises. Unable to stand her appearance she turned from the mirror and started the shower. Over and over she washed her face scrubbing it hard. It was excruciating, but she just wanted to get any trace of his nasty ass genitals off of her skin.
How could I let this happen? She couldn’t begin to wrap her mind around the violation that she experienced. Crushed and humiliated she leaned against the shower wall, slid down to the floor, curled up in the fetal position, and cried like a baby. After a while she pulled herself off the floor and got out the shower. She went into the closet inside the bathroom and put on a white V-neck and a pair of jeans. When she exited the bathroom Joey found her two best friends sitting on the white leather couch talking.
“Oh my God!” Cee jumped up. “What happened to your face?”
Evan stood up, “Aww sweetie,” she moved in for a closer look.
“What are ya’ll doing here?” Joey asked relieved to see them and didn’t care about the rift between her and Evan. At the moment she needed a friend and was grateful to have her two best friends at her side.
“Bev called me,” Cee replied. “She said that you had an emergency.”
“I just got back into town,” Evan mentioned still staring at Joey’s face in disbelief. “I came to see how the event was going. That’s enough about us, what the fuck happened to you?”
“Dawhar Bradley happened to me,” Joey plopped down on the couch.
There was a knock at the door. “I got it,” Evan said and opened it.
Isadora was standing there with a tray containing a magnum of ice, a bottle of coconut Ciroc, and a carafe of pineapple juice. “Bev sent this up for Joey and I still need the membership cards from Joey.”
“Okay,” Evan said dryly taking the tray. She wasn’t too fond of Isadora; Evan didn’t like the way Isadora looked at her. It wasn’t just the looks. There was something about Isadora that she couldn’t place her finger on. “Wait right here.” She pushed the door closed with her foot. Evan sat the tray down. “Joey, where do you keep the member cards?”
“Oh, um there should be some that I took out on top of my desk.”
Evan picked them up and went back to the door. She opened it and handed the cards to Isadora.
“Thank-” she was cut off by Evan closing the door.
Evan fixed everyone a drink before taking a seat. Joey guzzled hers down right away, and then tearfully told her friends what transpired in her office an hour earlier.
“That’s some ole’ bullshit,” Cee announced when Joey finished speaking. “Where is Zay? Did you call him?”
“No, this isn’t something that I can tell him over the phone. You know Zay he will flip out, find Dawhar, and kill him.”
“And Dawhar deserves it,” Evan added.
“Evan, no one can get away with killing someone that high profiled. Either way he’s going to spaz as soon as he sees my face. At least if we’re face to face I can calm him down and get him to be rational. I feel like a fool,” Joey sobbed.
“Don't,” Cee stopped her. “You better not dare blame yourself for what that sick perv did to you. If Zay don't get him, I will.”
“Whoa,” Joey dabbed the tears from her eyes with a piece of tissue. “I know that you got a lot of pinned up aggression because of what you’re going through, but I did get him pretty good myself. I don't want anyone, especially you, getting in trouble. Your kids have already lost one parent.”
“I know and speaking of Petey, right before Bev called me one of the detectives on his case called me. They caught the arsonist.”
“They did!” Evan and Joey exclaimed in unison.
“That’s great,” Evan chimed breathing a sigh of relief.
“Not exactly,” Cee responded. “He’s not the per
son that shot Petey.”
“Are they sure?” Joey questioned.
“Yes they are very sure; he was locked up in Durham that night.”
Shaking her head Joey peered in Evan’s direction. Refusing to meet Joey’s blaming eyes Evan focused on Cee asking, “Do they have any other suspects?”
“Nope, not at all, but they assured me that they will keep looking.”
The friends sat for two hours drinking and talking. In the middle of their girlfriend reunion, Cee received a call from her daughter, Talia. The news on the other end was disturbing. After conversing briefly Cee hung up the phone and told Joey. “Come on we need to get you out of here. Shit is about to hit the fan.”
“Who was that?”
“It was Talia, and she said TMP and Wahoo Sports are reporting that Dawhar was just released from the hospital. They’re saying that he was there because he was beaten by Luxe bouncers after refusing your advances.”
Deeply appalled Joey scoffed. “The fucking nerve!” The humiliation took a back seat to the rage that was gripping her. “That’s okay, because I’ll give the gossip sites something to blog about. I do have to get out of here and get to Zay before the news does.”
The trio traveled down the buildings service elevator in order to avoid party goers. As they neared Joey’s parking space, headlights shined brightly at them as speeding vehicle veered towards them slamming to a stop less than a foot from their bodies. The driver’s side front and rear doors flew open, out jumped Dawhar’s trophy wife, Leska, along with the wife of another Tiger player.
Charging at Joey Leska screamed, “You fucking slut whore what kinda of shit are you on? My husband doesn’t want your raggedy Ann looking ass so you get your rental cops to jump him!”
“Back your prissy mix breed ass the fuck up out my face before I stomp a hole in it. Your creep of a husband tried to rape me and he got what his hand called for by me and not my security team.”
“He tried to rape you?” Leska mocked with a cackle. “Dawhar doesn’t have to rape you. He has me and he could have any woman that he wants.”
“That’s the problem he ran into one that he couldn’t have.”
The Conglomerate: A Luxorious Tale Page 10
