Rich Girl Problems
Page 23
“Fuck that. That bitch is going down! I will drown that ho before she gets my daddy’s damn house!”
“You don’t know if he was your damn daddy!” Journee screamed. “All you did was bring your ass back here and ruin everything for me! Everything! And now what do I have?! Nothing but two goddamn strip clubs that I signed over to yo’ ass!”
“Well, that’s too motherfuckin’ bad, bitch! I took the rap for you and your slutty-ass girlfriend. I didn’t rob that bank by myself and I damn sure didn’t shoot that security guard. But I was the only one who spent ten years in prison!”
“You were a junkie-ass piece of nothing, motherfucker! You deserved those ten years and I hoped you dropped the soap and somebody bust yo’ ass!”
“I don’t believe you said some shit like that!” He pushed her.
“You don’t put your hands on me, motherfucker!” Journee slapped Xavier so hard that spit flew from his mouth, and seconds later, they were wrapped in a backseat brawl.
“Stop it!” The driver swerved to the side of the street, the rear of the car running onto the crowded New York City curb, missing by inches the people who’d been standing there. People were scattering and screaming as the driver tossed the car in park and snatched open the passenger-side back door, doing his best to break up Journee and Xavier.
“Bitch!”
“Bastard!”
“Motherfucker!”
They scrambled.
“What is going on here?!” Two officers approached the car. They looked in the backseat and saw Journee and Xavier engaged in World War III.
“Please help!” the driver said desperately.
The officers walked to opposite sides of the car. One pulled Journee and the other yanked Xavier out of the car.
Journee’s hair was everywhere and her dress was hiked up, exposing her thong. “I’m going to kill him!” she screamed.
“Let’s go, bitch!” Xavier yelled, as the officer slammed him against the car. His face was marked with fresh, bloody scratches. His left eye was swollen and his bottom lip was busted.
“Are you Mrs. Dupree?” the lead officer asked.
“Yes! I’m Journee Dupree. And I want his ass arrested! Right now!”
“And I want that bitch arrested too!” Xavier yelled.
“Calm down,” the officer said, looking at Journee as she pulled her dress down. “Relax. And stand here.”
Journee was in total shock as people gawked and took pictures of her standing center stage. She looked up and saw Bridget and the Millionaire Wives Club cameras zoomed in on her. She patted the sides of her dress and pulled her hair back.
“Tell the camera what’s going on.” Bridget smiled.
“That motherfucker attacked me!” Journee huffed.
“Where are you two coming from?”
Journee hesitated. “We had to take care of some family business. And while I was meditating and trying to clear my thoughts, he attacked me! Out of nowhere. He’s nothing! He’s finished!”
“Is that why they are arresting him?” Bridget asked.
Journee whipped toward the action and saw Xavier pressed up against the side of the car and the officer waving a plastic bag with a white powdery substance in it.
“That’s not mine!” Xavier screamed. “I didn’t have that shit!”
“I knew it!” Journee said, disgusted. “You junkie motherfucker ! You’re back to getting high again?!”
“Cuff him!” the lead officer said as his partner placed handcuffs on him and read him his Miranda rights.
“Journee!” Xavier cried. “Come on, baby, I need you. I need you to call the attorney! Have him meet me at the station!”
“I’ll call the attorney all right. Call him and have him press charges on your paroled ass!”
One of the officers pushed Xavier into the backseat of the police car while the other officer said, “I apologize you had to go through this, Mrs. Dupree.” He handed her his card. “If ever you want to talk about this, call me.” And he pulled off.
I must be dreaming. She pinched herself. That shit was real.
“Bridget,” she said, “I have to go!”
She got back into her car, and her driver, who was visibly upset, got behind the wheel. “Lose them,” Journee ordered. “And then take me back to the attorney’s office.”
After a few ducks, dodges, and dances through traffic, the driver was able to shake the cameras and could safely park in front of the attorney’s Park Avenue building.
Journee’s heels clicked loudly as she hurried into Chad’s office and closed the door.
Chad looked up from his computer and raised a brow. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Xavier. I tried to kill him.”
“Is he still alive?”
“He’s in jail.”
“You had him arrested?”
“Yes and no. The cops broke up the fight and while they searched him, they found some damn dope in his pocket.”
“Are you serious?”
“As serious as the kidney failure that finally killed Zachary’s ass.”
“So that’s why you’re back so soon.” Chad smiled and walked over to Journee, placing his hands around her waist.
“You can call off the hit now,” she said.
“Or we can have the hit happen in prison.”
“Good idea.”
A smile spread across Journee’s face. “It’s been a long four years.”
“It sure has.” He kissed her softly on the lips.
“Now tell me, what the hell was with that video will?”
“Don’t worry about that.” He kissed her again. “Not only did I not file it. I’ve already destroyed it.”
CHAPTER 49
BRIDGET
Reunion
These bitches were winners! They’d sung a drama-filled lullaby for the third season in a row, making my baby, Millionaire Wives Club, a huge success. And yeah, they all ended the season hating me—except Journee—but I didn’t give a damn. After all, this was never personal. Even Milan charging into the office and backhanding me wasn’t personal. It was always business.
The reunion was taking place in the ballroom of the Ty Warner hotel. The room was a shimmering white, with two white leather couches and an exquisite chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
Vera, Jaise, and Journee sat on one couch while Milan and Chaunci sat on the other. Each was dressed in a fabulous roaring twenties ball gown and limited edition heels.
Their jewels reflected in the light and they all appeared to have their own sparkling hue, as they looked out into the audience and watched their host walk up the center aisle, pose, and smile.
All of their jaws dropped and I just about pissed in my pants.
I swear I just loved these hos.
Their host was none other than Al-Taniesha Richardson, a former star of the show, who had moved on to star in my other hit production, A Preacher’s Wife.
Al-Taniesha sauntered onto the stage wearing a purple leather dress and silver gladiator platform heels that lit up like Christmas lights with every step.
She took her seat and crossed her legs. “Umm-hmm, it’s me. First Lady Niesha. Al-Taniesha Chardonnay Richardson, as most of you know.” She looked into the camera. “The star of my own hit reality show. You can catch me every Thursday night at ten. Or every Sunday morning at Heathen No More Tabernacle, on Grove Street, Hotlanta, USA. ” She gave a small wave and then turned back to the cast. “Chile, y’all bitches begged for your supper this goddamn season! Oh, hell yes, y’all did!” She slapped a thigh. “And to think you called me ghetto. Now had y’all been in the projects, you would’ve been called hood rats, but change the zip code to Fifth Avenue and without further ado . . . I present to you the Millionaire Wives Club.”
The audience clapped and after the applause simmered down, Al-Taniesha held up a blue index card and said, “This question is from Taylor in Jersey, and it’s for you, Jaise. She wants to know how you are fe
eling since the death of your son.”
Jaise dabbed the corner of her eye. “It gets better every day, Al-Taniesha.”
Vera patted Jaise’s back, while Journee touched her hand and Milan and Chaunci said almost in unison, “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
“Thank you,” Jaise said. “Everyone has been so supportive. I still miss my baby though.”
“I can imagine you have to,” Al-Taniesha said. “ ’Cause I know my daughter misses his damn child support.” She looked into the camera. “For those who don’t know, my daughter, Christina, and Jaise’s son had a baby together two years ago. The baby is doing well. But I’m tired of Chrissy begging me for money. Dat ass knows I don’t believe in taking care of grown children. No, ma’am. I’m young. Vibrant. Sexy. And I just don’t do that. That’s how you ruin ’em. And the next thing you know they all fucked up and dead somewhere. No offense, Jaise. I’m just making a point. But anyway, you wanna tell the audience about your new bundle of joy?”
Jaise mustered up a smile and ran a hand over her stomach. “Who would’ve ever thought?”
“Damn sure not me,” Al-Taniesha said as Milan and Chaunci chuckled and agreed. “A baby,” she continued. “And you’re damn near forty? No, honey, that’s when you need to adopt a dog or a damn monkey. But anyway, hallelujah! What a blessing.”
“Yes. My baby is a blessing,” Jaise said, pissed. “I’m five months pregnant and I can do without your comments!” She gawked at Milan and Chaunci. “So instead of being worried about me and my pregnancy, you need to be concerned with your raggedy-ass relationships. Tell us, Chaunci, did sleeping with the boss pay off?”
Journee and Vera laughed.
“Good question, Jaise,” Vera said.
“That’s a damn good question!” Al-Taniesha stood up and gave Jaise a high five. “Bitch, that mouth has always been slick. That’s what made me want to always boom-cock you in the face, because of some of the shit you would say. But anyway, before we move on, Jaise . . .” Al-Taniesha retook her seat and picked up another index card. “Sydney from Iowa wants to know how Bilal is doing and what’s the state of your marriage.”
“We’re still separated. And I guess he’s fine.”
“Does he know about the baby?”
“After today he will.”
“Damn! He doesn’t even know you’re pregnant? You are really giving it to his ass. And let me tell you when you kicked him out of the house, the only thing missing from that scene was you coming down the stairs, lighting a cigarette, and setting his shit on fire!”
“KABOOM!” Lollipop, Al-Taniesha’s husband, who was dressed in a white patent leather catsuit, screamed from the audience.
“But you did well,” Al-Taniesha continued. “ ’Cause I would’ve busted four caps in his skull. Yeah, Jabril was sorry, and triflin’, and you should’ve done a better job teaching him how to be a man, but he was my grandson’s father. Bilal could’ve let him live in the basement.”
“Al-Taniesha, I think you need to move on,” Jaise said.
“Okay, okay, okay. Now on to Chaunci. Girlfriend, you did that shit. You owned this season, baby! My mouth hit the floor when it came out that you were doing the panty drop with Grant. When Emory leaked that damn video to the media, chile, I almost died! So what do you have to say about that?”
“I’m not going to discuss that,” Chaunci said.
“What the hell?” Al-Taniesha’s mouth dropped open. “Don’t you think folks wanna know?”
“I know I’d like to know,” Vera added. “Because I saw the video, and wow!”
“I really think you need to stay in your lane.” Chaunci pointed at Vera.
“Or what?” Vera pushed.
“Let me just pause it right there, ladies,” Al-Taniesha said, and looked at Chaunci. “Don’t get fucked up during commercial break. You already know that hood ho will slice your ass down to the marrow.”
Chaunci sucked her teeth. “Whatever. Next question.”
Al-Taniesha continued, “Kenya from Alabama wants to know, what’s the state of your company?”
“I am still co-owner with Grant Preston.”
“Oh, damn.” Al-Taniesha laughed. “So, umm, have you been back to the creamalicious side of things?”
“I’m doing well and my daughter is fantastic.” Chaunci changed the subject.
“Excuse you, I’m the host here. I’ll change the subject. Bitches kill me! Shit, you were on reality TV and if you were going to get on the reunion and act like you’re too good to discuss your drama, then you shouldn’t have done the bullshit during the season. Everybody wants to know about you and sexy ass and this is what you pull? Shade? As Bridget says, ‘Bitch, you’d better get into it.’ ”
Al-Taniesha turned toward Vera. “You know phony hos work me over, which is why I always fucked with you, Vera. But I must say this season you and Taj went through some hell. Are you truly back together or not? ’Cause you know last reunion you lied and said you were one happy family and the truth was you hated his ass. Now what’s the deal?”
“We are more in love than ever. He’s back home and it’s a beautiful thing.”
“Girl, you’d better keep that black man happy. ’Cause I had a few church ushers and nurses lined up. And I told ’em right after that divorce scene, ‘we’ll see how this goes, and if she acts stupid, I’ll put you on him.’ But you turned it around and I’m proud of you! You did that shit. You are my kind of bitch, Vera. And I’m so glad you got your mind right. ’Cause you know that little boy ain’t do shit to you. You and Taj were broken up and he slid over to another chick real quick. That’s life. And the lesson for him is to wrap it up. He’s a doctor and he ought to know better than that. He had a blood test, right?”
“Yes. And like I’ve already said, we’re happy.”
“Now, how is your mother and how is it having a brother?”
“My mother is still in the hospital and things are touch and go. As far as Kendu being my brother . . . it’s been different. I’ve never had any siblings, so I’m learning how to be a sister. We spend time together. He comes over—”
“Does he bring his wife?”
“Sometimes.”
“Girl, I’d love to be a fly on that damn wall. Do you two get along now?”
“It’s a process.”
“It sure is,” Milan remarked.
Vera pointed at Milan. “As long as my brother, my nephew, and my niece are there, you don’t ever have to come. Ever!”
“Oh, hell!” Al-Taniesha laughed. “Y’all whores are related. Oh, damn, I would love to be around come Christmastime!” She turned to Journee. “Now, Journee, the new chick on the scene. You turned out to be a fan fave.”
“Yes. I did.” Journee smiled and waved at the audience.
“But I have to know, what in the hell did you see in Granddaddy? It had to be the money, honey. ’Cause all I could imagine was a short and stumpy dingaling!”
A chorus of “ewww” traveled through the audience.
“I loved my husband,” Journee insisted.
“Chile, please. Now were you doing his son? Admit it. Were you?”
“No. I was not.”
“Girrrrrrl!” Al-Taniesha yelled. “You have better coochie control than me, ’cause I would’ve hit him off a few times. I understand you were trying to be a stand-up woman. But that husband of yours, chile. He reminded me of a sick dog who needed to be euthanized! Now, Kai from Oklahoma wants to know what’s going on with his son.”
“He was killed in prison,” Journee answered.
“Whaaaaat? Somebody shanked him to death?! Wow!”
“Yeah, pretty sad,” Journee said. “Next question.”
“I don’t have any more for you, boo. You just blew me out the water with telling me that Xavier was dead. He said he wanted to be with his daddy, so I guess he is.”
“Now on to you, Ms. Milan. So somebody finally beat Bridget’s ass and it happened to be you!”
“Yes. I tried to bury her in the carpet, but security wouldn’t let me. Needless to say, this will be the last time you’ll see me on reality TV.”
Lies.
“Fuck Bridget.”
We all know you don’t mean that.
Milan continued, “She hired an actress to ruin my marriage. I’m done!”
“Any advice you’d give anyone who wants to be a part of reality TV?”
“Yes. That karma is not a bitch; reality TV is.”
“Carl!” I looked over at him. “She’s a fuckin’ genius. Make sure that line is her intro for next season.”
“You got it.”
“I tell ya, Carl”—I wiped tears—“for the next few months, I’m gonna miss these hos.”
A READING GROUP GUIDE
RICH GIRL PROBLEMS
Tu-Shonda L. Whitaker
About This Guide
The discussion questions that follow are included to enhance your group’s reading of the book.
Discussion Questions
How much of a role do you believe the cameras played in the characters’ lives? Had there been no cameras, would their lives have been the same?
Do you believe that Bridget acted the way all reality show producers behave? If so, in what way? If not, then how is she different?
What did you think of Vera’s struggle to accept Taj’s son? Was it truly about him having a child outside their marriage? Or do you believe their marriage was affected by other factors? If yes, what might those factors be?
Rowanda had a long history of drug abuse. Can you believe she will ever change?
How do you feel about Kendu and Vera being siblings? Do you believe that this could happen in real life? Do you know someone with similar family dynamics? How did they handle it? How would you handle it?
Jaise struggled with choosing between her husband and her son. Do you think she made the right choice? If not, why not? Would your opinion be different if Jabril had not been killed?
How do you feel about Bridget hiring an actress to spice up Milan’s drama? Do you think Milan not trusting her husband was about the actress or about her own insecurities?