It had been a little over a month since the girls parted ways. They decided that over the summer they would indeed sell the house, and started to pack up most the stuff they wanted to keep. London would be home from school then and would have time to spare. Kenya was spending a lot of time at work. Being both Kenya at home and Tastey at work would sometimes get confusing. Kenya was now starting to turn into her stage name even at home. She was living and breathing the club and all the club life had to offer. It seemed like her government name was starting to become almost nonexistent.
“Hey, Zack, what’s good?” Tastey was in great spirits and it showed.
“You, baby, you know that,” he replied with his normal charm and swag.
“Look, I need to talk to you later.” Tastey had a game plan in mind. “But, I gotta make this paper right now. One of my regular customers just came in and I don’t want to keep his trick-ass waiting.”
“Do you, baby girl. I’ll be posted here all night.” He loved to see her in action, getting that dough. Tastey made his club outshine all the others in the city. Zack was glad that she wanted to talk to him. All about a scheme, he also had a few things to discuss with her as well. He wanted to first run his thoughts by Old Skool and see what she thought he should do. A friend and confidante to all the dancers, she would know the right way to come at Tastey concerning his proposition. He knew that the young girl was a little streetwise, but was she street ready?
“Hey, darling, you needed me?” Old Skool came out of the dressing room as soon as she got the message that Zack wanted to speak with her.
“Yeah, I need to see what you think about that shit we talked about last month.” Zack leaned back on the barstool.
“What shit? You know a bitch catching years!” Both her and Zack laughed she looked deeply in his eyes. They went back, way back, when Old Skool was considered “young game.”
“I’m talking about that traveling thang, remember?”
“Oh yeah, that. I’m with that! I think Tastey would be able to pull the shit off. Matter of fact she’s perfect. Raven is still a little green. Plus, she has a son and might not be able to roll that easy.” Old Skool always thought ahead when planning anything.
“Well, I’m trying to figure out how to break on her without scaring her or running her out the club, you dig? She’s my best moneymaker in here. Tastey makes all the other girls hustle more.” Zack was in full scheme mode at this point.
“Yeah, you right, but I think she’s trying to save money to get her an apartment anyhow. I think the crib where she lives at now is going to be sold soon. I overheard her and Raven talking.”
Not only didn’t Old Skool or Zack know that she had a twin sister, they had no idea she owned a house as well. They thought she was just another dancer renting a spot. They were used to all young girls who danced having nothing, not a pot to piss in nor a window to throw it out of. Tastey was different and Zack thought back to the day they first met. That’s why he had to come at her just right to avoid her possibly going ham.
“You know what? I think I’m just gonna be real and take my chances. The game is served cold, like a bowl of ice cream, and I’m gonna give it to her just like that.” Zack was on the money trail. His last hook up had been fucking up on the count and that just wouldn’t do in his shady world.
Old Skool listened and was in total agreement with Zack. She watched Tastey from across the room while she was giving one of her regulars a lap dance. “She has game, I’ll give her that much.”
“Damn, baby, you like that? Tell me you like how all this ass feels on your dick.” Tastey was spitting game on Shawn. He was one of her regulars. “Oh, daddy, your dick is so hard. Is all that for me?” Grinning all in his face, the young temptress was careful to keep her eyes glued on him, knowing eye contact would keep him hypnotized. His manhood was rock hard so Tastey knew to ease up on the grinding. She didn’t want him to bust a nut on himself. Well, not at least ’til she got four or five dances from him. At twenty dollars a pop that would be at least a hundred. By the time the fifth song was beginning, Ms. Tastey decided to let loose on him. She knew he was about at his spending limit and wanted to make sure that he was satisfied with the dance. She never wanted to make a customer of hers have to get another girl for a good time. “Please, let me turn around and ride you, daddy!” She was licking her lips. “I want you to watch me cum on that big black dick!”
Shawn was all in as he grabbed a hold of Tastey’s waist. “Yeah, that’s it, make daddy cum!” was all he could get out his mouth before Tastey filled his face with her breasts. She was moving back and forth and talking cash shit in his ear.
Brother Rasul was keeping a watchful eye, just in case she or any of the other girls needed him. Some of the dudes would sometimes get too excited and take the fantasy a little too far. That’s when he would step in and try to damn near snap their necks. After a few more seconds, the song was over and Shawn had a huge smile on his face. He finished his drink and told Tastey that he would see her later on in the week. She really liked Shawn and secretly wished that it was her who was on the picture in his wallet, the one with his wife and baby. As she was trying to make it back into the dressing room to freshen up and change her outfit, a familiar hand reached from nowhere, grabbing out for her arm.
“Damn, motherfucker, what the fuck . . . ?” Before she could finish her sentence she realized that it was Ty. She hadn’t really spoken to him since the night she started working at the club. He’d called, leaving a few threatening messages about her owing him for putting her on, but that didn’t stop her from getting her money.
“Oh, I guess you just said fuck me and shit. It’s like that? You dirty, rotten bitch!” Ty was drunk and slurring his words. “I’m the one who put your cum-catchin’-ass on in this motherfucker. You owe me. Why don’t you come over here and give a nigga some of that famous head I’ve been missing out on?”
“Oh, you trying it! Listen, Ty, I don’t owe you jack shit. You got me all the way twisted in this piece!” Tastey was pissed and aggravated as she put him in his place. “And don’t come all up in my job trying to front!”
“Oh, wow it’s like that? You a beast now, right?” He was on the nut and about to try to cuff her up by her throat, when out of nowhere a huge arm wrapped around his neck. Brother Rasul was choking the dog shit out of Ty as he struggled unsuccessfully to breathe. He was turning beet red and tears were flowing out both eyes. Zack, seeing the commotion, came running over just as Ty was getting skull drug out the door. “I was just . . .”
Ty couldn’t get his explanation out good before Zack also started in on him. “Let me show you how real D-town ballers ball!” Zack reached under his shirt and pulled out a shiny black nine. He put one up top and put the gun in Ty’s mouth. “Pay attention, Tastey or Kenya or whatever you choose to call her is family up here, all right! If you ever fucking choose to disturb her well-being again, I’ll blow your dental out the back of your neck! Now get the fuck out my club before you get me all the way off my square. That’s my word! We clear?”
Zack stuffed his gun back in his rear waistband and left Brother Rasul and the rest of the bouncers to do their thang. Tastey was feeling somewhat bad for Ty, but she felt strangely loved by Zack and the rest of her club family and felt a sense of loyalty to them for coming to her aid.
Old Skool, wanting to put her two cents in the mix, came in the dressing room and wanted to know if she was okay. “Hey, girl. You good or what?” She rubbed sympathetically on the young girl’s back.
“Yeah, I just hate when someone tries to put a bitch’s business all up in the street. It’s all good though. I ain’t tripping on it though.”
“That’s good. Don’t let these fools front on you.” Old Skool made her feel much better. “When you get dressed Zack wants to talk to you.” Tastey gave her a worried look, hoping her job wasn’t in jeopardy. “Girl, don’t worry. He ain’t bugging about that bullshit. He said you wanted to talk to him about some stuff you had on your mind.”
“Oh yeah, damn, I did. I almost forgot!” Tastey was relieved. She didn’t want to lose her job. She needed the money and, besides, she had no other friends except her girl Raven and the rest of the club family. Emotionally drained from dealing with Ty’s over-the-top antics, she decided to be done for the night. She pulled her hair up in a ponytail and put on a track suit and her sneakers. She was getting herself prepared to meet with Zack.
Tastey made her way into Zack’s office and took a seat on the couch. He was on his cell phone, talking a lot of shit as always. After a short while of listening to him boast about this, that, and the third, she got up and started to look at all of the different framed pictures he had on the office wall. There were a few of girls and some of cars, but most of them were nightclub shots from way back when. Judging from some of the outfits he and others had on, he must have been collecting them for a long time. In some of them, Zack’s pimped-out-ass was even sporting a Jheri curl and bell-bottoms. As she walked along the wall, one picture shockingly jumped out at her. Tastey moved in extra close to get a better look, thinking her eyes might’ve been playing tricks on her. “Oh fuck naw, oh shit!” Her sudden outburst caused Zack to glance over at her and start to wrap up his conversation.
“What’s up, baby girl? Sorry about that. You know how I am when I get to runnin’ my mouth. I damn near forgot you were here you were so quiet.” He was making his way toward her as he was talking.
Tastey made sure to move away from that particular picture so he wouldn’t ask her any questions about her reaction to it. “Don’t worry. I kept myself busy looking at all your pictures, especially the ones where you’re busting that curl!” Kenya was laughing at Zack, trying to play off a bad feeling that was stirring inside the pit of her stomach.
Playing the role, he started acting like he was fixing his curl in the mirror. “You don’t know nothing about this! I was Grand Daddy Caddy, Macaroni Tony!” Zack teased before getting down to the reason for their meeting.
After they sat down and got themselves together it was time to get to it. Zack thought it would be better to let Tastey start and get whatever it was that she wanted to say out in the open before he broke on her with his game plan.
“Okay, this is what I was thinking.” She adjusted her body in the chair, praying his response would be positive. “What if we had feature dancers and showcases every week here? You know, some shit where the top moneymakers got put on full blast? I was talking to Old Skool and she told me she used to be a feature dancer at different spots around the city.” Tastey took a break in the presentation she was making, to try to peep Zack and see if he was buying into her new hustle.
“That’s what’s up! I’m glad to see you’re thinking of more ways to make the club and yourself extra revenue.” Zack had to make sure to give Old Skool some extra cash and some of his dick that she always craved. She had perfectly laid the groundwork out for his plan and he was overjoyed. This was just what he needed to hear. Zack could manipulate Kenya into thinking that it was her idea and he came up with his part of it at the tail end, spur of the moment. “I think we can do that and even a little bit more.”
Zack told her to get relaxed and pay attention to what he was about to say next. This was going to be the part of the plan that would make or break the whole deal. “All right, Tastey, here’s the real thing that I’m talking about. I got a gravy-ass hookup with a couple of cats out West in L.A. and down in Texas. And we got sorta what you would call a partnership. You see, I got my hands on a lot of, should we say, product, and they’re interested in helping me get rid of it.” He was rubbing his hands together as he spoke, hoping to lure Kenya on his team. “First, we can do some smaller things in Ohio and other places closer to home, then move up to a bigger scale.”
“Are you talking about moving cocaine, raw, or trees?” Kenya was attentively sitting straight up in her seat, taking in all her boss had to say.
“Hell naw! Now just what the fuck you know about all that?” Zack was more than amazed that she had come on him just like that, flat out with it. He was both shocked and relieved all at the same time. The expression on his face told it all.
Tastey could see that he was staring at her strange, so she took over the conversation. “Come on, Zack, you act like I don’t be around people. You must think I’m not from the hood. Who the fuck ain’t got a head in their family? And, shit, weed is the third creation. Everybody knows God made the heavens, the earth, and then the ‘trees.’” Tastey held her hands open and looked toward the sky like she was smiling up at the Almighty Himself.
“Girl, you know you a fool!” It was then that Zack knew that his plan would work out perfectly. The scheming pair talked for close to a hour before Brother Rasul came to the door informing him that a guy was out front looking for him needing a face to face. He was claiming his business was very important and extremely personal, meaning that what he had to say was for Zack’s ears only.
“Okay, partner, let me go up front and see what all this is about and I’ll talk to you tomorrow, cool?” Zack reached over and grabbed Tastey’s hand, shaking it, signifying they had a deal. “Be easy, baby girl, and clear your mind, you about to make some major paper.”
As Zack and Tastey left out his office, he saw Old Skool sitting at the end of the bar and blew her a kiss as he stroked his dick. She knew that she would get paid tonight in more ways than one. Old Skool then told Tastey to have a good night as one of Brother Rasul’s team walked her out to her car. Seeing something stuck underneath her windshield wiper blade, she took the half-folded paper out. Quickly realizing Ty had left the note, Kenya angrily balled it up and threw it out the window without so much as reading one single solitary word. Fuck him and all that drama he be bringing with him! As she pulled out the parking lot still thinking about the picture she’d seen on Zack’s office wall, she drove home for the night.
“Young Foy, my nigga. Man, when did you come home? We missed you in the D.” Zack gave his man a play and a short hug. “You did a real little bid this time around didn’t you? Do them crackers up north know they done let a straight-up fool loose?” Zack laughed so loudly that some of the girls were alarmed thinking it was more trouble like what had jumped off earlier.
Young Foy was tall and had the build of most career inmates. With a hood mentality, he was a straight-up troublemaker, no doubt. If anything was being sold on the far west side of town he had a piece of the action, even if he had to strong-arm his way on the ticket. The seasoned criminal’s temper was on a hairline trigger much like Kenya’s. He would fly hot on that ass at the drop of a dime before you knew it. However, being in and out of prison never seemed to stop him from having his ear to the streets. Young Foy, although 100 percent thug, was always spitting rhymes and singing. He needed to get into show business and stop running in the streets before he got killed like most of the dudes he’d come up with. All he needed was a chance and someone to bankroll his dream.
“Hey, guy, I wanted to stop by and check on you. See what you had popping for a brother. You know a nigga fresh out and trying to come back up.” Young Foy was running his game down. Playas in the hood knew he was a man of his word when it came to getting that money. “Let a nigga get some work! You know I straight need it!”
“I tell you what.” Zack’s mind was beginning to work overtime; besides, he knew when it came to Young Foy he’d have to cut him in or cut it out all together. “Stop by in the next few days and I can most def put you on. In the meantime, welcome home!” Zack dug in his pockets, respectfully pulling out two hundred-dollar bills, giving them to Young Foy.
“All right bet, bet, good lookin’.” Young Foy then paused remembering the other reason he’d made a trip to see Zack as soon as he touched down. “Damn, dawg. It almost slipped my mind your boy Stone was locked up with me. He wanted me to make sure to come by and tell you that he needs you to come see him and shit as soon as possible.”
“Yo, why didn’t he just call the phone or drop a nigga a few lines? Do he need some dough or something?” Zack quizzed.
“Come on, killer, what I look like, Ms. Cleo?” Young Foy saw one of Zack’s phat-ass freaks walk by and that was all she wrote for their conversation. He was on ho patrol. “Man, I’ll holler. Just go get with dude! He acted like it was urgent.” And with those words he was out.
Old Skool came over to Zack and put her arms around him. She couldn’t wait to get to her house and get her hands on Zack’s dick. “Hey, it’s almost three, let’s have Brother Rasul shut it down.”
Zack agreed, kissing her on the lips. “Yeah, okay. Let’s be out. After all, I owe your ass a little something-something and you know I hate owing a nigga.” Old Skool gave him a yard of tongue, while he ran his hand across her thirty-six DDs. “We’ll see you in the morning.” Zack patted Brother Rasul on the back as they left for the night. He trusted him with his club and his life.