“This is the tenth time I have called this nigga, and he ain’t answered the fucking phone not once,” Precious informed her best friend, Molly, as they waited for a table at the Cheesecake Factory.
She slammed the flip phone shut holding it tight in her hand, wishing it would ring. She was terrified that Trill had caught her red-handed and needed to talk to him to figure out where his head was.
“Girl, he probably working.” Molly tried to ease her best friend’s mind.
“Fuck that! I don’t give a shit. I am so tired of hustling-ass niggas always acting like they working.”
“A nigga like Trill gotta work to take care of yo’ high-maintenance ass.”
“You right, but still.” Precious changed the subject and directed her attention to the hostess. “How long before the table for Pay is ready?”
“Just one more minute, ma’am. They’re cleaning it off now,” the hostess informed Precious.
“Girl, they need to hurry the fuck on,” Precious complained. “My feet are hurting in these Manolos.”
“You mean your foot,” her friend since middle school reminded her.
“Whatever.” Precious pouted as she sucked her teeth and put her hand on her hip.
“Right this way,” the hostess announced.
As soon as they were seated, Precious dialed Trill’s number again. “This motherfucker still ain’t answering my call.”
“Precious, I wasn’t gon’ tell you, but I heard that Trill was at Sunny Delight hollering at the owner. Say he was pressed and some mo’ shit,” Molly then turned her attention to the menu, not wanting to see the look on Precious’ face after breaking the news to her. And even more so, she didn’t want Precious to be able to see the smirk she was trying to hold back.
“The owner?” Precious asked.
“Yeah, her name is Sunni.”
“Oh, her, she ain’t nobody. See that’s how rumors get started. She a chick that, ummm, Noc-Noc be hollering at.” Precious was mad as hell, but she didn’t want Molly to have anything up on her when it came to Trill.
“You sure? Because I heard Trill was up there, begging to see her.”
“Yeah, I’m…” Precious was at a loss. Steam started coming out of her head because she knew for certain that she had fucked up now. Trill was in a vulnerable state, and if there wasn’t anything going on between him and this Sunni chick before, the odds of there being something going on after tonight was a definite possibility. He was probably with Sunni now. “Who is this Sunni, anyway? Do you know her?” Precious cleaned it up, acting as if maybe there was another Sunni that she had gotten mixed up with.
“Like you said, she ain’t nobody, just a bitch that owns an all-night beauty salon.”
Precious dialed Trill again and got no answer; it went straight to voice mail. “When you need to know what is going on,” Precious fumed, “like my momma always said, go to the root of the problem.” With that being said, Precious picked up the phone and called information. “Yes, give me the number to Sunny Delight.”
Once she got the number, she called the shop looking for Sunni. In between rings she vented to Molly, “Oh, best believe I am going to get to the bottom of this.”
“Thank you for calling Sunny Delight,” the receptionist answered the phone, “where it’s bright and sunny. How may I help you?”
“Just put Sunni on the phone,” Precious demanded.
Ta-Ta, who had just walked into the shop and was standing there talking to the receptionist when the phone rang, motioned for the phone after reading the Caller ID, “Precious Pay.” Ta-Ta grinned, took the phone from the receptionist and said, “Yeah, what you need with Sunni?”
“Look, is this Sunni? If not, you need to put her on the motherfucking phone, okay?”
“Hold on.” Ta-Ta knew it was going to be a long night, and she lived for this kind of drama. There was no need for any Red Bull, Vivarin or No-Doz. It would be this phone conversation that would get her through the night. “Yes, can I help you?” she said, changing her voice up, trying hard to sound like Sunni.
“Look, what’s going on with you and Trill?” Precious said, getting right to the point.
“Who is this?”
“It’s his wife! Now, bitch, answer the question.”
“First of all, you need to calm down. Secondly, why are you calling me at my job about your husband?”
“Bitch, don’t play with me. I’ll come up and beat yo’ ass.”
“What? You gon’ take your fake leg off and try to beat me with it?”
“I ain’t got to. Bitch, we can go at it toe to toe.”
“Toe to toe? You are short a few of those, ain’t cha…ho?”
Ta-Ta laughed hysterically as Precious screamed, “What’s so funny? Ain’t shit funny, bitch! Not a damn thing. You don’t know me.”
“Oh, you mean you ain’t that one-legged ho from The Sopranos that Tony was fuckin’? Tell me, how does a one-legged chick wrap her legs around her man? Oh, that’s right, she doesn’t. She dreams about it.” Once again, Ta-Ta burst out laughing.
“So you still think shit is funny?”
“You right. It ain’t funny, is it?” Ta-Ta walked over and hit the CD player’s On button and turned up the volume. Lady Sal sang, “I got yo’ man and you can’t do anything about it.”
Precious had heard enough. “Bitch, when I see you, it’s on!”
“It’s on then, you peg-leg ho. But by the way, this ain’t even Sunni! Take this quarter and play yo’self, beeyotch!” Ta-Ta hung up the phone as everyone in the shop fell out laughing.