By the time Billy made it to the club it had just started to pop. Girls were being dropped off at the door by the vanload and the fellas were beginning to come out. Billy told the bouncer who she had come to see and was allowed in without having to pay the cover charge. She drew quite a few stares as she crossed the main floor on her way to the bar.
Before she left the house she had Reese come over and help her with her outfit. The girl might not have been very book smart, but she had an eye for fashion. She was rocking a pair of green parachute pants and brown suede boots balanced on inch-high heels. She had to practice walking around the house in them for about twenty minutes before she was sure she wouldn’t bust her ass in the street. Her hair hung down her back, with bangs brushing her arched eyebrows. The silver hoop earrings dangling from her lobes played tricks with the light and swung against her lightly blushed cheeks. That night was supposed to be the beginning of her starting over, and she wanted the world to know it.
Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was only 9:35. She still had some time to kill before Marcus finished his shift, so she decided to order a drink. The bartender, though fully dressed, radiated sex. She was a shapely girl with full pink lips, rocking her hair in thick goddess braids. No sooner had she gone off to make Billy’s drink than a party crasher was up in her space.
“How you doing, love?” he asked, trying to be sexy. His breath smelled of mints, but Billy could detect the stench of cheap liquor beneath it.
“Not interested,” Billy said, not bothering to turn around to address him.
He moved around to her line of vision so she could see the imitation shark-skin suit he was wearing. “Don’t act like that, baby girl. I’m just trying to buy you a drink.”
“Thanks, but I can pay for my own drink.”
“You yellow bitches kill me,” he said, getting indignant. “Always acting like your pussy is sweeter than the next ho’s because yo skin is lighter.”
“Bitch?” Billy spun around on her stool. The movement was so swift that the wannabe pimp jumped back. “You got me fucked up with one of them weak-minded bitches you got working for you. Nigga, don’t you know I will cut your fucking face?” She grabbed a bottle off the bar.
“No need for that,” Cat said, grabbing Billy’s arm from behind. She was dressed in a long robe, covering her entire body except her hands and face. “He was just about to leave, weren’t you?” she asked the faux pimp, who looked at the bottle still clutched in Billy’s hand and scurried away.
“Some niggaz ain’t got no class.” Billy placed the bottle back on the bar.
Cat shrugged. “What do you expect in a place like this? Marcus should be down in a second, he’s in the office. He shouldn’t be too long, but in the meantime I’m about to go onstage. Why don’t you enjoy the show; you might change your mind about me.” Cat winked and sauntered off to the stage stairs.
The lights in the club went dim when the DJ announced Cat was about to take the stage. The bass of hip-hop was replaced by African drums. The spotlight went on and Cat came out under it. Her eyes scanned the crowd as if she were hunting for someone in particular. Slowly, she began swaying back and forth, jerking in tune with the beat. The heat in the room seemed to skyrocket as Cat did her thing onstage. Dropping the robe, Cat exposed the tiger stripes painted onto her thighs, arms, and breasts. Her muscled legs stretched out into a split, and she bounced twice before popping back up. Every man in the house damn near salivated on themselves as they heaped cash at Cat’s feet. By the time it was over, you couldn’t see the stage floor through all the singles spread on it. Billy had to admit that Cat knew how to move.
“Enjoying the show?” A feminine voice brought Billy out of her trance. She turned from the vision onstage and had to blink at the one standing in front of her. Yoshi was dressed in a white bikini top that had stars covering the nipples. Her sarong clung to her hips, only exposing the top of her white thong.
“You look stank,” Billy joked.
“Go to hell.” Yoshi pushed her playfully. “I see Cat got y’all ready to trick off the rent money.”
“Cat ain’t got me wanting to do nothing, don’t play with me, Yoshi.”
“I see you eyeballing her.”
“I was not!” Billy faked offense. “I can’t front, she can damn sure work that stage.”
“Billy, your rainbow flag is showing.” Yoshi snickered.
“Every time I see you two you’re talking about somebody.” Marcus walked up on them. He was wearing a white button-up shirt and gray slacks.
“Why don’t you make some noise when you walk?” Yoshi punched him in the arm.
“Hello, Billy.” Marcus turned to her. His warm smile made her blush a little, which tickled him. “You look nice.”
“You, too. Nice shirt.” She gently touched his collar and stroked the material. “Italian?”
“French,” he corrected her. “You ready to go, or did you wanna stay for the next act.”
“Let’s not end the date before it begins,” Billy teased him. “I’ll see you later.” She hugged Yoshi. Taking Marcus’s extended arm, she allowed him to lead her to the exit.
Yoshi leaned against the bar and watched her best friend be escorted out of the strip club with one of the finest men she had ever had the pleasure of meeting. She was happy that her friend had found someone who would hopefully know how to treat her. Seeing them together made her think of Jah.
They hadn’t spoken since the night of their lovemaking, but she knew they would have to confront the issue eventually. She never saw herself falling for Jah, but she couldn’t deny the butterflies he gave her. She just hoped that if she ever came to a point where she could lay her heart in someone’s hands that they would be his.
Marcus led the way as he and Billy navigated the growing crowd inside Shooter’s. It seemed like they couldn’t move three feet without someone stopping Marcus. The DJ even shouted him over the PA system. They really show love to the bartenders at Shooter’s, Billy thought.
When they had almost made it to the door, Marcus was sidetracked by one of the girls who absolutely had to speak to him. Feeling a twinge of jealousy, Billy kept waking. Coming out of the exit, she literally bumped into five men coming in. She recognized two members of Bad Blood, but couldn’t call them by name. She tried to sidestep them, but the ugliest of the group blocked her path.
“What’s good, ma, you leaving off work already?” Pain asked, glaring at Billy’s breasts.
“Please, I don’t work here. Excuse yourself,” she said, pushing past him.
“Hold on, yo.” Pain grabbed her by the arm. “Why don’t you come inside and keep a nigga company for the night?”
“Because she’ll be otherwise occupied,” Marcus said, grabbing Pain’s wrist. The two men exchanged challenging glares, which resulted in Pain letting go of Billy’s wrist.
“Marcus, what’s good, my dude?” Jay came over, breaking the tension.
“Chilling,” he said to Jay, but kept his eyes on Pain. “I know y’all didn’t come down here to cause trouble?”
“Pardon that.” Jay nodded in Pain’s direction. “My dude didn’t know shorty was with you.”
“Well, he does now. Y’all go in and have a good time, but keep that nigga in check.” Marcus had a chill in his voice that served as a warning to anyone within earshot.
“You got it, Marcus. We’d never disrespect your club,” Jay said, leading his team inside.
Billy waited until the men had passed through the entrance before speaking. “What was that all about?”
Marcus shrugged his wide shoulders. “Wasn’t about nothing. I seen duke grab you and I stepped in. What kind of dude would I be if I didn’t?” He acted as if he didn’t see the suspicious look Billy was giving him. “Shall we?”
“Yeah, okay,” she said and took his arm, “but you and I are going to have a serious talk this evening.”
Marcus gave her a heart-melting smile. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The two of them strolled off arm in arm like two lovers. It was nice, but short-lived as Marcus’s Lexus GS300 was parked a few feet from the club. It was a 1993, but he kept it in mint condition. The car was fitted with wooden panels and modest twenty-inch rims. Billy reached out for the passenger door, only to have him step around her and do the honors. Billy smiled through the windshield at Marcus as he walked coolly around to the driver’s side. She had to remind herself to thank Yoshi for the hookup.
Yoshi lounged at the bar, sipping a Long Island iced tea. There were some crumpled-up bills in the net purse she carried around the club, but it was nothing to write home about. She had made a few dollars doing lap dances, but the fish weren’t really biting just yet. The patrons who had been there for a while were borderline shit-faced and broke, but dudes had been pouring in for the last half hour or so. New faces meant new money and she was damn sure gonna get her share.
“Hey, pretty lady,” Black Ice said, taking the stool next to Yoshi’s. He was dressed immaculately in a black shirt and matching slacks. His black gators were polished to a mirror shine, as was the gold buckle.
“Hi, Ice,” she said in a very uninterested tone.
“Not yet, but I will be.” He flashed his diamond-studded teeth. “How these tricks treating you tonight?”
“Can’t complain. You know I handle mine.”
“And that’s the problem.” Ice leaned in to whisper in her ear. “You’re handling yours instead of letting the best man for the job take care of it.”
“And I’m guessing that would be you?” she asked sarcastically.
“Who better than Ice, the ladies’ vice, ’cause he handles their business oh so nice?” he sang. “Yoshi, my game is already approaching orbit and it’s about to be out of this world. You know just as well as I do that your fine ass don’t wanna miss the mother ship when it leaves. Can’t you see I’m trying to put you up on what’s happening? You need to choose a nigga and quit napping.”
“That was cute.” She chuckled.
“Cute is for monkeys and puppies, doll, and I ain’t either one. I’m just trying to put you up on this pimpin’.”
“First of all, what the fuck do I look like, working up in joints like this at all hours of the night? To give the next man my paper? I don’t fuck wit’ no pimps, and even if I did, why the hell would I choose you?”
“Because I’m the most qualified cat to play this game since a square nigga wit’ a grudge put a bullet in my daddy’s brain. I was bred for this shit, baby, so ain’t nowhere for me to go but up. The question you need to ask yourself is, do you really wanna be stranded down here with the squares or partaking in the finer things with the players? When you decide you’re tired of letting a nigga paw you for pennies, give me a call and let’s bathe you in some dollars.” Ice dropped a business card on the table and headed back through the crowd.
“China, you’re on next!” Claudia shouted from behind the bar.
Downing the rest of her drink, Yoshi got up and prepared to take the stage. Before she walked away she picked up Ice’s card and tucked it in her bag.
“That nigga was gonna push your shit back,” Lex teased Pain.
“He wasn’t gonna do shit. If duke tried to get fly, I’d have let him have it!” Pain boasted.
“With what, when we left the guns in the car?” Lah cut in.
“Shut up, Lah. You lucky we even letting you hang out with us tonight. You’re True’s bitch,” Pain accused.
“I ain’t nobody’s bitch.” Lah poked his chest out, but when Pain looked in his direction he shrunk back a bit.
“Stop fucking wit’ the little nigga.” Jay threw his arm around Pain. “At least Lah shows up to the studio on time.”
Pain pushed Jay’s arm off his shoulder. “Fuck you, and this limpdick little nigga. Let’s snatch a table and get pissy.”
“Finally something we can agree on,” Jay said.
The five men made their way through the club, which was damn near crammed. Half-naked women were strutting around, drinking or offering lap dances while the men gladly gave up their singles. All throughout the room cats were saluting Bad Blood. When word got out that they were in the house, the girls turned it up. It was nearly ten minutes before they were able to commandeer a table in the far corner.
“See that there, my nigga?” Lex asked, throwing his arm around Lah. He turned the youngster toward a chocolate thing with an ass that looked like two Halloween pumpkins. “That’s what you call a two-pump chump.”
“A two-pump chump?” Lah asked, not catching on.
“Two pumps in that big ol’ ass and you bust,” Pain explained.
“Like a stone chump!” Lex added.
The men exchanged laughter and filed into the booth. They were barely seated for two minutes when a waitress came over to take their orders. She was scantily dressed in a black skirt that barely covered her ass. She greeted them all with a warm smile, knowing that the young rappers would tip nicely. After taking their orders, and ignoring the fact that Pain kept touching her ass, the waitress went off to get their drinks.
“I’d fuck that bitch,” Jay said.
“True story,” Lex agreed.
Pain talked shit among his boys and watched the girls while they waited for their drinks. Again his cell phone rang and he didn’t answer it. “Fuck you,” Pain mumbled. His hungry eyes scanned the room, mentally sampling the variety of girls who were in attendance that night, wondering which one he was going to take home.
“For a bartender you carry a lot of weight around that spot,” Billy said suspiciously.
“What do you mean?” he asked, cutting off another piece of his steak.
“I mean the way people treat you at Shooter’s. Everybody seems to think you’re the shit.”
“Guess I’m just a lovable guy,” Marcus said and smirked.
Billy sniffed the air. “I smell bullshit. Seriously, what do you really do at Shooter’s?”
Marcus looked at her as if he were thinking of what to say. “Real talk?”
“Real talk.”
“Okay, I’ve got a little money tied up in the spot,” he admitted.
“So all this time you’ve been screaming you’re a bartender and you’re the owner?” Billy asked, with a note of disappointment in her voice that he’d duped her.
“Part owner,” he corrected her. “Me and Shooter got an understanding.”
“See, you’re already starting off on the wrong foot by lying.” She folded her arms.
“Technically, I didn’t lie; I omitted part of the truth,” he pointed out. “I do tend bar and help out around the spot. Just because I’m upper management doesn’t mean things don’t need to get done.
“Billy, I know you’re feeling in a way, but I had several good reasons for not telling you right off the back. If I had told you I owned the club, you’d have just thought I was out here trying to recruit more girls. A better reason is because I wanted you to get to know me as a person, not a club owner who’s sitting on some bread.”
“Oh, so I strike you as the kind of girl that’s out here on a paper chase?” she asked defensively.
“Not at all, but I don’t always trust my first instincts. I tried that once and got myself burned for it.”
“Oh, sorry to hear that,” Billy said, as if she didn’t already know his history. “Well, if it’ll make you feel better, I’m not on it like that. There’s nothing a nigga can do for me that I can’t do for myself. I go out and work for what I need.”
“And that’s one of the things that attracted me to you. Billy, from the first brief conversation we had at the barbecue, I knew you were a girl about her business. You don’t find that much these days. Most chicks are just out for a come-up.”
“Just like most niggaz are out for a nut,” she shot back.
“There are always exceptions to the rules.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”
Marcus smiled at her wit. “You’ve got a response for everything, don’t you?”
“Pretty much,” she replied.
“So now that my secret is out, do you think I’m a filthy liar who you never want to see again?” he asked, looking at her with puppy dog eyes.
Billy wanted to laugh at the face he was making, but kept it in check. “Maybe, but I won’t make such a rash decision just yet. Before we go any further, is there anything else I should know?”
“Just that you have the most breathtaking eyes.” He blinked like a swooning schoolgirl.
Not being able to hold it any longer, Billy burst out laughing. “Boy, you are too much.”
“For most women.” He placed his hand over hers. “But for someone like you, I’m just enough.”