CHAPTER 43
Ebony
#celebrityhairstylist #marcusdarlin #imfab #bitchiwasrichb4ibecame famous #iamebonywaterhouse
I parked my Benz in the lot by the salon. I had been coming to Marcus Darlin since I was nineteen and on the “if you’re going to have a man with money you must look the part” grind. So wherever Marcus Darlin went, Goldie followed.
Stepping into his shop, he told me, “Girl, you know I love you to have cleared my calendar on a Saturday afternoon just for you. I’m so proud of you, Mz. Goldie.” Marcus Darlin locked the door. “Honey, we can’t have your fans coming up in here. I know you’re about to tweet it.”
He was right. I sat my designer handbag on the sofa in his lounge area by the window so my #fans could snag a pic. They wouldn’t see me, though. I followed Marcus into his private room in the back.
While tweeting, #imthatbitch #richfriends #MarcusDarlin and attaching a before selfie, I told Marcus Darlin, “Goldie is dead, bitch. I’m Ebony Waterhouse.” I’d started believing that was true.
Marcus Darlin said, “Ya mama named you Goldie. I’ma call you Goldie. Take off those Hollywood shades and sit in my chair. You’re not the only one with a life. I have a date tonight with my new wealthy white sponsor, honey.”
We both could relate to having sponsors. Didn’t matter that we’d both come up and now had our own money. I winked and smiled at him. “Yas, bitch. We still value the system of,” Marcus Darlin chimed in as we said together, “getting paid, throwing shade, being laid, and spending others people’s bread.”
“That’s the American dream,” I said, sitting in his chair. “I’m going to have to find a way to get you on my show.”
“I stay ready,” Marcus Darlin said, running his fingers through my hair.
He was right about that. Marcus Darlin worked his #fashion #body better than most women. His hair was bronze today, faded on all sides, spike twists on top. His gray-hazel contacts were the same as mine. One might think he was from Scotland with his long-sleeved wrap dress that stopped right above his ankles. Those deep pockets of his weren’t at the hips for nothing.
“I have an idea. I’m going to insist that you be my exclusive stylist on set. That’ll get you in front of Devereaux. I know she’ll love you. Hell, she might even give you your own series, bitch.”
“You’re the star of the show, bitch. Don’t start acting like it’s your show. You know Devereaux Crystal is my client too. All her sisters and her mama have been coming to me for years just like you. What are we doing today?”
His stomach was flat as mine but was cushiony soft. Said the only thing he liked hard on his body was his dick. The juicy-looking red lips tattooed on his neck was #allthat. I didn’t have and didn’t want any tats.
“Make me sexier. I need to turn up. But Dev wants me to keep these cotton-candy clip-ins.”
As Marcus Darlin said, “Honey I’m tossing these.” He dropped them in the trash. “I’ll dye you some human hair that color and sew it in. That way you can tease as you please.”
“For real. All of the Crystals come to you?”
He nodded real slow. “For years.”
“Alexis too?”
“Yes, Goldie. All includes Alexis with her on-again/off-again pregnancies.”
Staring at Marcus in the mirror, I said, “Say what? By whom?”
“More like whoms, but you didn’t hear this from me. First it was for her fiancé, James. That man is so fine. I wish he would cross over. I might sponsor him and have his baby.”
We laughed, then I asked, “Who’s the next daddy?” I inquired, trying to stay on track.
“Mr. Cheesecake, Spencer Domino.”
My jaw dropped.
“Aw, bitch. I recognize that look. Don’t tell me you fucked him too? Yup, you did. I can see it all over your face. Did he make you squirt too? Too late bitch. You took too long to answer.”
“How do you know all of this? And how do you know any of it’s true?”
“Honey, I only know what people tell me. Let’s just say, Spencer is Alexis’s brother. He boned her mother first. I heard he has a Leaning Tower of Pisa package. I wish he’d cross over too. I’d have fraternal twins. One for him and the other one for James. Back to business. I’m feeling Devereaux on this blend. It looks hot on you.”
Tripping in my head, I nodded. “You know I love my red lip, but with this I have to rock my raspberry pink matte lipstick.”
“Back to the gossip. I know you’ve heard that Alexis is about to inherit a few mil. You’d think that bitch already had it rolling around in that Ferrari one day, the Bentley the next. That bitch came up overnight. The same way you did when the ink dried on your marriage license. How’s Big Buster? He still on my team?”
Laughing, I said, “Whatever, bitch.”
“Oh, your dick is safe with me. I don’t like ’em that damn old no matter how much he has.” Marcus Darlin leaned to the side, snapped his finger.
A text from Phoenix registered on my cell. I’m at the house with Nya.
I replied, What house?
Ours.
“Can you believe this? I gave Phoenix a key to my house in Brookhaven.”
Marcus Darlin interrupted, “Devereaux’s fiancé, the one you’ve been fucking for the last two years, Phoenix, has a key to your house now. You crazy as hell. I know it’s the one in Brookhaven. Hell, can’t nobody get up in Fort Knox Conyers with all them damn gates. Why now, Goldie?”
“With the show and him wanting to manage me, I just thought it would make it easier for us to see each other.”
Marcus Darlin stopped shampooing my hair. “What the hell is wrong with you women? You get your time to shine and you give away the spotlight to a man who doesn’t deserve it. When you see him, demand your key back. If you tell him ahead of time, he might make a duplicate.”
I texted Phoenix, I’ll be home when I’m done.
Where are you? he questioned.
I replied, I’ll be there in two hours, three tops.
Didn’t really matter when I got home. It was my house, not his.
I texted Spencer, Meet me at my house in two hours.
Spencer didn’t have my Brookhaven address yet. Had to keep my two sides and their locations separate. I wasn’t a sex addict. Phoenix was the only steady affair I’d had since marrying Buster. Spencer was a crave I wasn’t ready to phase out.
Had to get more of that good dick before dealing with Phoenix and Nya. I was no babysitter. I did not want him bringing her to my house on the regular. This was the last time he could come over with his kid.
“Girl, you’d better appreciate that your husband’s dollars keep the film rolling on Sophisticated Side Chicks ATL, honey, or you’d still be an unknown.”
My jaw dropped.
“Damn, Goldie. You didn’t know that shit either? Bitch, I need to lighten the color of your hair.”