by Wahida Clark
“What was she saying to you?”
“That was business, Tasha, that’s all.”
Umm. Hmm. Business all right, Tasha thought and decided to let it go… for now, especially since he seemed to be getting agitated.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The doorbell rang while Tasha and Kyra were chilling in Tasha’s family room. Tasha answered the door to let Detective Rick Bryant in. He had lately become a fixture in the Macklin household.
“Come in, Detective Bryant. Trae is down in the basement.”
“Mrs. Macklin, why do you insist on calling me Detective Bryant?” he asked in an irritable tone.
“Because you keep calling me Mrs. Macklin.”
“But that’s different,” the detective told her.
“How so?” Tasha challenged.
“It’s out of respect for Mr. Macklin.”
“Mr. Macklin? Don’t even try it. You call him Trae.”
When he didn’t respond Tasha turned around to see what had captured his attention. It was Kyra.
Kyra and Detective Bryant stood there staring at one another. Tasha stood watching the both of them with a smirk on her face. She cleared her throat and said, “Detective Bryant, this is my girl Kyra, Marvin’s wife. Kyra, this is Detective Bryant.”
“You can call me Rick,” Detective Bryant said. He extended his hand and grabbed Kyra’s. He then leaned over and kissed it.
“Nice to meet you, Rick.”
Tasha sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. “Detective Bryant, Trae is in the basement.” He stood there staring at Kyra as she walked past him.
“Rick, Trae is in the basement,” Tasha reminded him. “And you better not lock my husband up for smoking weed.”
“I’ma be down there smoking it with him.” He smiled at Tasha and winked at Kyra as he headed down to the basement.
Tasha turned and went into the kitchen. As soon as she was sure that Rick was gone, she went up to Kyra and pushed her.
“What?” Kyra shrieked.
“I saw that, Kyra.”
“Saw what?”
“You know what I’m talking about,” Tasha snapped.
Kyra grabbed a chair and sat down. Her hand was over her heart. “Shit! I honestly couldn’t help myself. That nigga got my heart about to jump out of my chest. What… I mean who was that?”
“Kyra, I suggest that you snap the fuck out of whatever realm you are traveling in and act like that little confrontation did not happen.”
“Those locks. I never liked locks on a dude, but he is wearing the shit out of those. And that body! That chest and arms. The way those deep brown eyes were looking at me,” she continued in awe.
“Bitch, I suggest you shut the fuck up before you get yo ass in big trouble,” Tasha snapped. “We are supposed to be talking about Angel and planning Aisha’s birthday party, remember?”
“Okay, okay,” Kyra said unconvincingly, trying to pull herself together. “I’m only messin’ with yo bitch ass,” she lied. Damn. She was really having difficulty shaking off her encounter with Rick. Finally, she pulled herself together and her voice went down to a whisper. “Girl, can you believe that she killed that nigga Snake? I mean, damn. Who would have thought it? She’s a murderer!” Kyra said with a twisted-up face. “She never said anything to you?” Kyra asked in disbelief, not wanting to believe that a little over a year ago her cousin Angel had killed her ex-pimp boyfriend Snake.
“Kyra, you sound like you’ve been watching too much Law & Order. You sound just like a juror ready to convict. ‘She’s a murderer,’ ” Tasha mocked. “Shit, if it was me, I would have killed that crazy-ass muthafucka. Nobody liked his ass, nohow.”
“Girl, I would have never!” Kyra said.
“I would have never!” Tasha mocked her. “Fuck you been hangin’ around? Must be all of those soap operas you’ve been watching or them white chicks up at the school.”
“Tasha, stop playing. I’m serious,” Kyra said.
“For real I didn’t even know how to approach her. I was actually scared to talk to her after it all went down,” Tasha confessed. “I didn’t know if she had gone crazy or what.”
“Sheeit, so was I. I had to talk to her moms first to get some advice.”
“And Carmen?” Tasha sighed. “Angel will be going to therapy over that situation for years to come. I can’t even imagine.” Carmen was Angel’s little sister who had started messing around with Angel’s ex Snake, before ending up dead because of him.
“And Kaylin? Kaylin is a good nigga fo’ real. He’s not a stranger to this, but this time this shit is up close and personal. I gotta give him his props. She picked a good one when she picked him. I see why she was so determined to marry his ass. Any other nigga would have cracked under all of this pressure,” Kyra said.
“You right. Kaylin ain’t new to this. It probably made his dick hard knowing his wife bodied a nigga,” Tasha added. “But shit, we all got good niggas. Look at what you and Marvin been through. Jaz and Faheem. Me and Trae, we all counting blessings.”
Just then, Kyra’s daughter Aisha entered the room. “Auntie Tasha, the twins are asleep now. I straightened up their room. Can I spend the night?” Tasha didn’t mind her spending the night because she loved to help out and play with the boys. She took the big-sister role very seriously.
“Aisha, you are such a big help around here. But I thought you had to get ready for Candice’s birthday party? You’re still going to wear that pretty dress, right?”
She shook her head. “My daddy brought me some Prada shoes,” she beamed with pride.
“Did he? And what do you know about Prada?” Tasha teased.
“Everything,” Aisha responded. “I know they got some pink ones coming out soon. The lady at Nordom’s told me,” Aisha said, trying to say Nordstrom.
“Nordstrom’s! Kyra, she knows the name of the stores?” Tasha said, shaking her head.
“Don’t ‘Kyra’ me. Shit, that’s Marvin’s ass. He buys her everything.”
“And you expect me to believe that?” Tasha asked.
“Your lunch is on the kitchen table, Aisha. Please don’t make a mess,” Kyra told her.
“I won’t, Mommy.” She took off running for the kitchen.
“Prada shoes? Marvin is creating a monster,” Tasha said. “Men never learn.”
“I said the same thing. But his philosophy is, she’s the next man’s monster, not his.”
“Oh my God,” Tasha said in disbelief. “That is so sad.”
“Bitch, you can’t talk, you just brought the twins matching David Yurman bracelets,” Kyra checked Tasha.
“What about you? You brought Aisha her own set of Louis Vuitton luggage, with the shoes and skirt. She was the talk of the last sleepover she went to,” Tasha shot back.
“I’m just glad we are blessed to be in the position to afford these things. So what if we all take part in creating monsters in the process?” Kyra said, laughing.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Everyone in the Macklin household was in the kitchen. Trae was skimming through the paper while eating breakfast; Tasha was holding the refrigerator door open, guzzling down a Powerade. Her body was glistening with sweat and her clothes were soaking wet. She had just finished running three miles on the treadmill.
“Tasha, where are your stretch marks? For goodness sake you have three babies. I had one and was marked for life,” Marva recalled.
“Aunt Marva, everybody is different. My mom never had stretch marks either. Nor did my granny. But I’m back in shape because I kill myself every day in that exercise room. I have a husband that I gotta stay fine for.” She winked at her.
“Chile, please. Your husband loves you, no matter what.” Marva said it as if Trae weren’t sitting at the table.
“Mmm, hmmm. That’s what they say and that’s what they want you to think. But for real, they want you to stay fine as the first day they met you. But it’s okay for them to grow old, fat, bald and out of shape.”
Marva started laughing.
Tasha went over and kissed Trae on the cheek. “Ain’t that right, baby?” He ignored her. “Aunt Marva, you see your nephew is pleading the Fifth because he knows it’s true.”
“What are you getting ready to do?” he asked without looking up from his paper.
“Take a shower and then take the boys out back. It looks beautiful outside.”
Aunt Marva watched on as he whispered something in Tasha’s ear. She burst into giggles like a little schoolgirl before she bounced off and disappeared out of the kitchen.
“Why is that little Chinese lady coming here? Ain’t no beauty supplies around here,” Aunt Marva questioned Trae.
Trae looked up from his paper. “What?”
“Don’t play stupid with me. I know a snake when I see one. You playing a dangerous game. Business and pleasure never mix, Trae. Whatever it is, she shouldn’t be coming to your house. You’re playing with fire,” she warned.
“Auntie, she has my number, so I don’t know why she stopped by. Nobody called me and said anything. I’ll ask Benny.”
“Whatever, boy. You know damn well why she is popping up. You and Shaheem always did let the little head get y’all into trouble. You better fix it and I mean fix it now. Shoot, in my day if one of them little whores would have come to my home I would have had my trusty blade waiting for their ass.” Aunt Marva made a slicing motion in the air. “Anyway, that one is a snake and a bold one at that. I’ve seen her kind before. She won’t stop until she gets what she wants.”
“It ain’t even like that, Auntie,” Trae said, getting up from the table, kissing her on the cheek.
Kaylin and Trae were down in the game room. Kaylin had jumped on a flight first thing that morning with a message for Trae from the dons. Trae was racking up the balls and Kaylin was chalking up his pool stick.
“So spill it, nigga. What’s up? You looked stressed the fuck out,” Trae said to his boy Kaylin. “How’s your record label doing?”
Kaylin was now sitting on the sofa. “Nigga, you know I ain’t here to talk about my damn record label. I’m here delivering a message. Don Carlos wanted to know why you didn’t come to him? Why did you go to Charlie Li? He don’t want you fucking with him. He said you could have come to him.”
“What the fuck? Yo, we done, Kay. We out. What the fuck I got to go to him for? I can fuck with whoever I want to. This is my money. I worked and gambled with my life and freedom for this money,” Trae spat. “Ain’t this some shit. I made them muthafuckas millions upon millions. I’m all the way out here in fuckin’ California and they know what the fuck I’m doing?” he continued to rant. “What kind of shit is that?”
“Nigga, it is what it is. I don’t know if it’s bad blood between Don Carlos and this Charli cat or not, but he said whatever you need he got you. Leave dude alone.” Kaylin was used to Trae’s stubbornness. He had actually used it to his advantage when they were out there hustling. But this was different. Trae was crossing the line.
“Kay, I already got money with dude and getting ready to get more. It’s legal, man. C’mon now. Slavery is over.” Trae was not going out without a fight.
“Well, dead that relationship, aiight? And don’t say I ain’t warn you.”
“Man, fuck that. Yo, let’s talk about you. Why you look like you just lost your best friend? Yo, what the fuck happened with my nigga Papi Chulo and his moms? This shit looks like it never is going to end. They keep blasting it on the news as if the President was killed,” Trae said.
“I got so much blood on my hands, I can’t believe the shit myself. I couldn’t leave those loose ends. I kept hearing him saying his moms was looking into this and looking into that. I had to be safe. Kaylin made an attempt at justifying his actions for bodying Papi Chulo and his mother. But now I’m regretting the decision I made to make that move.”
“But damn, Papi too? That nigga was a cash cow. He went what, triple platinum?”
“Yo, what if I would have left him alone and he decided to take over where his moms left off? Then I’d be right back to square one. Shit, I can find another cash cow.”
“Dawg, I know you. This shit is eating at you and I’m curious to know what’s Angel saying?” Trae smirked. “I know she’s not sitting this one out.”
“Aww, man. She’s getting on my fuckin’ nerves. I don’t know if the fact that we are finally married is driving her ass crazy or that she is a good-ass lawyer. Too smart for her own damn good. She keeps saying little shit trying to make me say I did it. She treated Papi like he was her son and shit.”
“Why she wanna know if you did it or not?”
“I don’t know, man. That lawyer shit went to her head. And the fact that she married a street nigga, it fucks with her sometimes. Especially when shit like this comes up. She’ll be aiight,” Kaylin said. “But yo, tell me about this five-o cat. What’s his name? Sounds like we both into some shit.”
“Nah, it ain’t like that. Rick. Rick Bryant. Dude lives right down the street and I didn’t even know it. But what I gathered, he is into all kinds of shit. If things get ugly with this Papi Chulo shit let me know.”
“Yo, you trust him like that?”
“Hell naw! But I got a feeling that we may need to use him for something. What? I don’t know. Plus, he owes me. I saved the nigga’s ass. Now I can’t get rid of him. He said I remind him of his little brother. I haven’t been able to find out why he playin’ me close, but I will.”
It was Saturday night at Club New York. Trae and Tasha stepped into their club ready to get their party on. Security escorted them through the crowd as they headed for the VIP section as Raheem DeVaughn’s praise for the “Woman” blazed through the speakers. All the ladies’ hands began to wave high up in the air and they all headed for the dance floor, including Tasha.
Trae grabbed a seat, popped a bottle and fired up a blunt. He leaned back in his chair as he watched Tasha sway her hips to the beat. He got off on watching her dance. He never saw anyone command the beat with the movements of her body the way she did. After she danced straight through four songs, he waved her over. She sat down on his lap and felt his hard-on. She smiled and kissed him gently on the lips before taking a sip of what was in his glass.
“Let’s go upstairs,” Trae suggested.
“Baby, we just got here. I came to party.”
“We can party upstairs.”
“Nigga, that’s what you said last week. Un-uh, nigga, come on.” She stood up. “Come on.” She grabbed his hand. “Come dance with me.” She dragged him out of the VIP section onto the main dance floor. The DJ was obviously trying to prove himself because he was murdering a remix of 50 Cent’s “I Get Money.” It even had an actual live verse by the old-school rapper Milk himself.
Marvin and Stephon were looking down from the balcony at the dance crowd like proud partners and business owners.
“Man, look at Trae and Tasha. We might as well get them Friday-night passes,” Stephon joked.
“Yeah. My man is already making the most of his investment.” Marvin began nodding his head and did a full spin to Gerald Levert begging the DJ not to play a slow jam.
Tasha was all over Trae’s dick. When she turned around he grabbed onto her hips and began walking her off the dance floor toward the elevator.
“Trae, hold up.”
“Don’t even try it. You feel what you’ve done.”
“Excuse me. Mr. Macklin, can I have a moment with you?” Charli said, appearing out of nowhere.
Trae and Tasha both stood in place. Tasha looked the small woman up and down. This was the first time she had been up close on her. She reminded her of a petite Kimora Simmons.
“Charli, this is my wife, Tasha. Tasha, this is Charli.” Neither one of the women said anything. Trae kissed Tasha on the cheek. “Charli, what’s up?”
“I have a proposal that I think may interest you.”
“Make sure you give it to Benny.”
Tasha p
ressed the elevator button, letting Charli know that the conversation was over. She turned around and tongue-kissed him for emphasis.
Charli frowned and said, “I came here to talk to you because I’ve been unable to reach him. Can you go get us a drink?” she asked Tasha.
“Ohhh shit,” Trae mumbled and held Tasha tighter.
This bitch. Tasha snapped, “Do I look like the help to you?”
“Charli, I’ll call your office tomorrow,” Trae butted in.
“Don’t call. Come by.” She placed her hand on Trae’s bicep and smiled at Tasha.
Before Tasha could snatch Charli up, Trae grabbed the back of Tasha’s neck with force. “Ignore this shit so we can get on with our party.”
“Nigga, I will fuck you and that bitch up,” Tasha spat. Her eyes moved to Charli, who had walked away. She started going after her. Trae caught her just in time.
“Tasha, fuck her,” Trae barked. “We are getting ready to enjoy our evening and don’t make me tell you again.” He pushed her toward the elevator. She knew he was not playing with her. “Chill out, aiight.” He waited until she got herself together.
As soon as they stepped onto the private elevator and the doors closed, they were all over each other. When the doors opened up, Tasha’s panties were off and stuffed into Trae’s back pocket. He put in the code to their private room and the door popped open. The smell of vanilla potpourri assaulted their nostrils. Tasha had made sure of that. Their feet sank into the six-inch plush carpet as Trae kicked the door shut behind them and hit a switch. The lights automatically dimmed and their music came on.
Tasha headed for the bathroom to freshen up. When she came out she had on a sheer silver sarong, silver star pasties that covered her nipples, a matching silver thong and a pair of clear six-inch stilettos. Her diamond belly ring reflected the dim lights. Trae was leaned back in his chair at the foot of the stage. He motioned for her to come to where he was. She kept going toward the stage.
“I can’t get a lap dance tonight?”
She ignored him and began winding around the pole. Slim 112’s new joint bumped from the speakers. Trae stood there mesmerized throughout the entire song. He finally grabbed his chair and pulled it close to the stage. He pulled out a stack of bills and sat down. She seductively untied the sarong, allowing it to fall to the floor, then turned around giving him a nice ass shot. “Make that ass clap for Daddy. Shit, I’m a paying customer.” He tossed a couple of hundreds onto the platform. She closed her eyes, feeling the music. It drove him crazy when she ignored him and danced as if she were the only one in the room. Her fingers ran over her pussy, thighs, abs and tits before tossing the sarong onto the floor, revealing the sexiest body Trae had ever seen, glistening with glitter.
