It kind of annoyed me how much she’d seemingly changed since being with him. I couldn’t quite explain it, but she wasn’t the same. She seemed cockier and stayed showing off her man like she just knew she was his only one. It didn’t help that he stayed in her comments, gassing her, or posting her too. I wasn’t sure why, but I didn’t like it or her anymore.
“You think so? Maybe I will test Wacko’s energy and see how he responds to me. He’s aggressive, so I think if he wants me, he’ll like pull my hair, call me a hoe, throw me against the wall, and just start fucking me.”
Frida and I burst into laughter.
“Bitch, that was too vivid. You must’ve been dreaming about this.”
“Maybe. Or a girl that fucked him back in the day told me that’s how he got down.” She shrugged, batting her eyelashes. “But if not him, like I said, I’ll go for Eitan. Plus, I heard E tricks on his groupie hoes. I’m due for a new Chanel bag.”
“Aight.” Jacob waved Frida and I over, just as I shook my head with a snicker at her statement.
By now, “Money in the Grave” by Drake was playing, as Frida and I entered the large section. A mixture of colognes hit me, and they all smelled expensive. I knew because my baby daddy stayed in pricey ass cologne.
The fellas greeted us, well, all except Wacko. He was smoking, occupied by his phone as he stayed seated, leaning back on the VIP couch. Frida and I both decided against bothering him.
I danced on one of the guys’ homeboys, and Frida’s ass went right to Eitan, who welcomed her with open arms.
“What’s your name?” I asked the producer cat as I stood over him, letting him admire my body. It wasn’t back to how it was since giving birth, but it was still something to make a nigga stiff down below.
“Rahim.” He nodded to me, sipping on something clear. That was new. LA niggas loved cognac, specifically Hennessy.
“You want a dance?” I smiled at Rahim, looking Wacko’s way using my peripheral.
“Nah, I’m good.” He shook his head somberly, focusing back down on his phone.
I rolled my eyes on the low, knowing Frida and I had pinned his ass right.
Another stripper, Erotic, came in our section, which had me tight because niggas flocked to her. She went right over by Tony, but they didn’t speak to one another. She just started shaking her ass as he fixed himself a drink. Since I saw he hadn’t barked her ass away, I switched over.
“Icey.” I sat down next to him, reaching my hand out to shake his.
“Fuck you got ya hand out for? Either you shaking ass or getting the fuck on.” He spoke to me sternly but coolly.
I wondered momentarily if he spoke to Camarih that way, but judging by the sweet and sometimes sexual comments he made about her on social media, I doubted it. Plus, I knew Camarih, and them two would probably be boxing if he did.
Suddenly, I’d gotten an idea that would get me closer to him.
“You’re right.” I laughed off his brashness, rising up and dancing right in front of him, making sure to block Erotic’s big ass. I had something to say, but I was slightly nervous, so I danced it off for a minute. Thankfully I’d had a few drinks given to me by their homeboys moments ago. “So you know I do music, right?” I finally spoke up.
“Cool,” was all he said, unfazed by the statement and my dancing.
I caught eyes with Frida, and she gave me a look saying she was jealous of where I was, so I laughed her off.
“You should let me audition for you. I can come by the studio in Leimert Park.”
“Do that.” He finally gave me his attention, causing me to smile. So far, he’d been chill, so this was cool. If only Camarih knew I was popping my ass for her precious baby daddy. I thought back to how she talked to me that day at the diner, so suddenly I felt vengeful.
“Girl, share.” Erotic got closer, doing some sort of move I couldn’t name.
“Did you fart?” Tony frowned at her.
“Huh?” She frowned back.
“Oh nah, that’s yo’ damn breath.” He shook his head out of disappointment, nudging Erotic off rather roughly, and making her slip her drunk ass onto the floor.
I laughed, happy seeing her ass get dissed since all the niggas usually loved her.
“Aye Devin, get us some better bitches before I bounce!” Tony shouted to my manager who had showed up to check on the men. He always did this with certain guests to make sure they were satisfied. “You told me it was some bad ones at this bitch, but all I see is a crackhead, a linebacker, and a hoe with gingivitis.” He pointed to Frida, then me, and lastly Erotic.
“My apologies. I promise I have some on the way.” Devin gave Jacob a look to go fetch some other strippers. “Ladies, come on.” He waved for us to leave, but luckily for Frida, Eitan kept her in his lap. “I will send some more free bottles and food, Wacko,” Devin promised before walking Erotic and I out.
I was baffled that Tony called me a linebacker. I’d never met a nigga in my life who wasn’t drooling over me. I could always have any man I wanted usually, with the exception of Prince.
“Everybody can’t be as bad as Camarih, Tony.” I heard Eitan joke as I stepped out. He was still holding a smiling Frida in his lap as she swayed a little, unbothered by Tony nicknaming her a crackhead.
“You damn fucking right. I don’t expect these hoes to be as fine as what I got, but at least be subpar.”
Rolling my eyes, I switched past the five girls Jacob had found and brought into the section. For the rest of the night, I declined to look over there because I was irritated as hell.
The next morning…
I’d just finished feeding and giving my son, Pace, a bath, but I was more excited than usual because his father had texted me. He said he was coming over, and I was happy that he was finally going to spend some time with his son.
Since Pace was born, Prince hadn’t called or come by once. My parents were no longer, so I had no one to watch my son when I had to work. Thankfully, my neighbor had a teenaged daughter, and for $30 a night, she would take care of Pace. I usually wouldn’t trust a sixteen-year-old girl, but Tiffany was sweet, a book nerd, and the only boys she was interested in were in the movie Twilight.
“Guess who that is!” I smiled down at my baby boy when I heard the doorbell.
Scooping him up, I stopped by the mirror to be sure I looked good, and then switched to the door to answer it.
WHAM!
Prince went across my face with force before I even had the door open widely enough. It was so abrupt and powerful, that I stumbled back but kept a good grip on my son.
“Why the fuck you run yo’ stupid ass mouth to Camarih!” He grimaced.
“Phillip, I’m holding our baby. What the fuck!” I screamed. Tears dripped from my eyes but because of the pain throbbing in my cheek.
“That ain’t my baby!” He roared, causing Pace to burst into tears.
“You need to go!”
I was so ashamed, thinking Prince had finally come around. I didn’t know what the hell was wrong with me. After all these years, I was still trying to give this nigga the benefit of the doubt. He wasn’t shit from the day I’d met his ass.
“Bitch, you better let Camarih know what you said ain’t true!”
“Too late, Phillip. You honestly think she’s gonna believe I made all that shit up?” I glanced at his shoulder, which was bandaged up. He wore a sleeveless muscle shirt, which wasn’t even hugging his body because he lacked the muscles needed.
“Ahhhhh!” He shouted at the top of his lungs as he grabbed his own hair.
Even Pace stopped crying because he, too, was baffled.
For the first time since I’d known Phillip, I was seeing how insane he was. Even after he had Driz murdered, I didn’t think he was crazy. I just saw it as him doing what he had to do. Yes, I’d told Camarih he was dangerous, but I was only running my mouth so that she’d never find out that I’d dropped her and Driz’s location to Prince.
“Phillip,
please leave.” I was holding my son tightly, not sure of what Prince was about to do next.
“Aight, look.” He paced the room erratically. “You um, you gon’ help me set that nigga up. Once he gone, Camarih gon’ be single again, and like last time, be my bitch.”
“Phillip—”
“Either you gon’ do the shit or I’m blowing this little nigga’s head off!” he screamed, whipping out a gun and pointing it at the back of my baby’s head.
“Okay! Okay!”
I’d never been this afraid in my life. And how could this nigga put a gun to his own child’s head? He was always only tough with women, and now babies too clearly.
Nodding, Prince put his gun away, let his eyes dart around for a minute, and then yanked my door open.
“Like before, I’ll be updating you on what needs to happen for us to take this nigga out. It ain’t gon’ be as easy ’cause too many niggas respect his ass or are afraid of the nigga. But it’s gon’ happen, even if I have to do it myself.”
Yeah right, nigga.
Prince wouldn’t dare challenge another man. And he was right, he’d have a hard time finding some niggas to kill Tony Wacko unless he was offering up a humongous payout. No way were some men about to take out a nigga like Tony, for some random R&B singer with no street cred.
“Okay.” I nodded repeatedly, not wanting to upset Prince.
Not saying anything else, he promptly left. Darting to my door, I locked it, putting the chain on.
I was still gonna go down to the studio to see Tony, but it wasn’t gonna be to help Prince. It was gonna be for me.
5
Jilly
“Where you going?” Vernon asked groggily as I put on some earrings.
Nala’s video shoot was today, and I was on my way to the location. I’d never had to wake up this damn early for anything, but I wanted to show my brother I was serious about being a stylist.
For now, I worked at Saks, which was basically a stylist, but I got paid minimum wage and commission. It was hard trying to sell them old ass ladies expensive bags, just so I could have a healthy check, mainly because they already had advisors they trusted who they weren’t about to trade in for my young ass.
Only time I really sold well was when younger people, specifically men, came in to buy. They’d be so into me that whatever I showed their asses, they wanted me to ring up to floss on me.
It was an okay job, but it was not what I wanted to do. I aspired to have my own shit going, where I worked closely with the same people and made enough to buy my own car, a cute little condo, and shop here and there. For now, I only had enough to keep my nails done, body hair waxed, hair did, and a few pairs of shoes that weren’t designer.
“To work,” I finally responded to Vernon proudly.
“Work? Saks open this early? It’s a sale or something?”
“No. My brother asked me to style Nala’s video shoot, so that’s what I’m about to do. You’ve heard of Nala.”
“Yeah, I have.” He sat up. “Why so damn early?”
“Because we have to take advantage of the natural light the sun provides. If we start at like noon, we chance losing it.”
Vernon nodded.
It was risky having him stay overnight so much, but I was thankfully right about my brother having too much on his plate to hound us. I was thankful for my cutie pie nephew for more reasons than one. I smiled thinking about how handsome he was. He was always cuddly and smelled so good.
“You gon’ let me know when I can talk to him about some work?”
“Yep, but I have to go. We can talk later.” I went to his side of the bed to peck him and then hurried out.
I still hadn’t figured out how I was going to make my lie become the truth. I couldn’t just spring Vernon on Tony, because he’d already declined to meet him. Shit.
I typed the address Tony sent me into my maps’ application and then turned on some music to listen to and get me through the lengthy drive since I was still sort of tired. I got there about thirty minutes later since the freeway was pretty clear, and when I pulled up, I was surprised to see so many people. It wasn’t thick or anything, but I expected it to be ten of us tops, yet it was more like twenty-five.
Putting on my jacket, I got out of the car, spotting my brother leaning up against his as he talked to some pretty girl and two white boys.
“Hi.” I neared him, hugging his torso with one of my arms.
“Yo’ ass is on time.” He pinched my cheek.
“Duh, nigga.” I got smart purposely because I knew he hated it. “Who are you?” I looked at the girl, now that the two white boys with headsets had walked off.
“Alejandra. I’m Mr. Terranova’s assistant.”
“Oh. I’m Jilly, but I assume you already knew that.” I shook her hand.
“She gon’ take you to where Nala is gonna be getting dressed and shit when she arrives. You got like an hour to put together six looks using what they got,” Tony explained.
“Okay. Where is my fifty percent down payment for time spent?” I put my hand out to him.
“Man, if you don’t get the fuck on,” he spat, making both Alejandra and I laugh as we walked off.
As stated prior, Alejandra was pretty, too pretty to be my brother’s assistant. I usually would’ve texted Camarih, but she was on her ‘I trust him tip,’ so I declined to do so. I didn’t think my brother would cheat on Camarih, especially because of how much he praised her, but niggas were dumb, and hoes loved Tony Wacko.
“So how did you get to work for my brother?” I quizzed Alejandra. She was a chocolate girl with a slight Latin accent.
“I was hired by Paramount. I used to intern for them, and they didn’t have any open positions a year ago when it was time for me to move into a paid position, so I had to go work elsewhere.”
“And you left your new job to work for my brother?” I raised a brow.
“I did. The pay is much higher.”
I wanted to ask how much but chose to break my line of questioning up into increments so she wouldn’t be tight lipped.
We got to a trailer that had Nala’s name on it, making me nod my head at how legit it was. Alejandra opened the door for me, and when I walked in, I was amazed by how nice it was. I saw why some people lived in trailers. This wasn’t half bad, and when needed, you could pick up and move to a new location hassle-free.
“So the clothes that have been delivered are over here.” Alejandra walked me over to the living room area.
There was an array of designers from Alexander Wang to Louis Vuitton. I felt myself about to drool at all the beautiful clothes, accessories, and shoes. My brother was really lit out here.
I knew everyone familiar with him was happy for him, but not as much as I was. I remembered back when he used to just talk about this and barely had enough money for us to buy a burrito from Chipotle to split. Seeing him come from nothing on his own was the reason I was somewhat hard on Vernon for acting like he hadn’t got on because he didn’t have the connections.
My brother was a hood nigga, with no rich or well-connected parents to get him to where he was. He figured it out, sometimes by finagling the system, but he got it done. So Vernon’s excuses were invalid in my eyes. I never brought this up though because he would go off on a tangent about how frequently I compared him to my brother. Then he’d mention incest.
“Wow, how much was all of this?” I touched the Chanel jewelry.
“Well, we paid to simply obtain the items, and if there are some things we want to keep, we will then pay for those in full.” Alejandra smiled, chuckling a little bit at how in awe I was.
I saw designer all the time at Saks, but a lot of these pieces were exclusive.
I set my stuff down and talked with Alejandra a little bit more about what was expected of me and what time I needed to have certain looks prepared, before she left. I removed my notepad from my tote bag then got to writing down different outfit combinations since I needed six choices,
but only three would make the video.
“Damn, you deaf?” I heard a voice call from behind me.
With attitude all in my face, I looked over my shoulder to see that Nehemiah guy from the studio. He was chocolate, with short dreads, standing at a very nice height. His look was in fact similar to Vernon’s, only he was darker and looked like he had more money. Plus, his nose was bigger; Vernon had a bunny nose.
“No, I’m working. Can I help you, nigga?” I snapped.
“Wow, you definitely Tony’s sister.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“You rude as hell.”
“Anyway, if you just came to bother me, you can get the fuck out.” I turned back around to look at the clothes.
I smelled some mild cologne, so I rolled my eyes since I knew Nehemiah was coming closer. He took a seat, staring down at my notepad as I ignored him.
“So you gon’ be styling all the video shoots?”
“I would like to. But I have to impress Mr. Terranova before I can do that.”
“I would like it if you styled them all too.”
I looked up from my paper to stare down into his eyes since I was standing, and he gave me a cocky smirk.
“How old are you?”
“Same age as yo’ older brother.”
“Wow, never would’ve thought. You seem less mature.” I kept my eyes on the clothes but smiled because I knew he was looking at me.
“I’m not though.”
“I don’t know what girls those lines work on, but it won’t work on me.”
“Pretty females are always so rude, and then on top of that, you got a brother influencing you.”
“A brother who will beat your ass if you don’t leave me alone.”
Chuckling, he replied, “You been using that line for ages, huh?”
We both laughed as I continued to work.
“Yep, and niggas already know the deal, so they scram.”
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