Crossroads (12 page)

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Authors: Skyy

BOOK: Crossroads
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19
Denise jumped at the loud knock at her door. She looked down to see Mariah sleeping soundly. Damn. She got out of bed. She didn't have a hangover, but the drinking made her forget about her bedmate. Denise looked at the clock. They had slept the day away. She knew she had to stop drinking.
Denise walked to the door and looked through the peep-hole but couldn't see anything. She knew someone was holding their finger it.
“Who is it?”
“Housekeeping,” a high-pitched voice said.
There was a vague familiarity to the voice. Denise put the doorknocker over the door and cracked it open. “Oh, shit!” She smiled as she saw Cooley standing with a rolling luggage bag.
“So you gon' let me in, fool?”
Denise looked back at the bed. “Hold on one second.”
“What the—”
Denise closed the door and ran over to the bed. She slightly shook Mariah.
Mariah turned over and smiled. “Hey, you.”
“Mariah, I hate to rush you, but my bestfriend is at the door, and you don't have on any clothes.”
Mariah's eyes widened. She sat up in the bed. “Oh, OK, I'll go the bathroom.” She got out the bed, her red hair wild and all over her head. She grabbed her dress and ran to the bathroom.
Denise walked back to the door. She opened it to see Cooley standing with her arms crossed.
“It's about damn time.” Cooley pushed the door all the way open and walked in. She paused in the doorway. Cooley sniffed. She looked at the bed then looked at Denise and smiled. “Who is she?”
“What? I don't know what you're talking about.” Denise walked into the room.
“You lieeeee! I can smell a woman in the air. You don't wear Bond Number 9. You probably don't know what Bond Number 9 is.”
Denise sat on the edge of the bed. “How do you know—never mind.” Denise knew Cooley knew her fragrances. Cooley sat her bag against the wall. Denise noticed the curious look on Cooley's face. “What, man?”
Cooley grinned, her dimples deep. “She's still here, isn't she?”
“Oh my God! You really are in the wrong business. You need to be a private detective.”
The bathroom door slowly opened. Mariah walked out with an embarrassed smile. Her hair was wet, curls stringing down her back.
Cooley did a double take. She looked back at Denise then turned back to Mariah. Cooley extended her hand.
“So she made you hide in the bathroom? That's sad, Dee.”
“No, I actually needed to get dressed. Hi, I'm Mariah. And I'm guessing you are Cooley.” Mariah extended her hand.
Cooley smirked; she had never heard her name so proper before.
“Good job on guessing my perfume.”
“Well, I always know a good scent, and it's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Mariah. I'm sure we will see more of each other.”
“I'm sure we will.” Mariah smiled. “Well, Denise, I need to get out of here. You will be all right getting to the studio, right?”
Instantly Mariah was back in business mode. Cooley was impressed.
“Yes, ba—Mariah, I can manage. Thank you again.”
Mariah blushed. “Anytime. Call if you need me.”
“I'll call you later.”
Mariah grabbed her purse and left.
Cooley poked her head out the door to make sure the coast was clear.
Denise rumbled through her duffle bag. She braced herself for Cooley.
Cooley closed the door and turned around, leaning against the door.
“Really, Dee.”
“What?” Denise cackled.
“You know what? I'm not even gonna say what you think I'm going to say. She seems cool, good taste in clothes. Thick-ass legs for a white girl. I even like the red hair. At least she's not a blonde.”
“Mariah is just a friend. Nothing happened.”
“Riiighhhhttt.” Cooley walked farther into the room. “Whatever you say. Carmen gon' kick yo ass when she finds out you fucking Vanilla now. And you got an old Vanilla drop too.”
“I'm not fucking anything. She was my sports agent. She helped me land the modeling gig, which I gotta get ready to get to. Wait, what the hell are you doing here anyway?”
Cooley stretched out over the bed. “Well, I got some business to look into here. On top of that, I got this girly-ass picture of my friend and figured she had lost her damn mind, so, I had to come and check on you.”
Denise snickered. “It's not like that. Dude, you won't believe. I'm the new face of Jocku.”
Cooley sat up on the bed. Her eyes widened. “You are bullshittin' me.”
“I'm serious. Mariah got it for me.”
“Dee, you aren't a model. Hell, have you ever worn heels?”
“Yeah, once, but it's not like that. You'll see for yourself. Come go with me to the studio. They took some pics of me for my first ad, and I'm going to see it today.” Denise gleamed with pride.
“Damn right. I can't believe this, my dog, I mean, my girl is a model. I might have to put you in one of my videos.” Cooley stood up.
Denise pushed her back on the bed.
“Man, this is just for work.” Denise walked over to the mirror. She brushed her thick black hair.
Cooley's mouth twisted. “Yeah ...” Cooley watched her friend primp in the mirror, something Denise never enjoyed doing. “I think I'm having an outer body experience right now.”
Denise looked at Cooley's reflection in the mirror. “Why do you say that?”
“Because I'm sitting on the bed, waiting on yo ass to get out the mirror and I could care less about looking in one at all.”
Denise turned around. “Dude, are you still trippin' about that?” Denise pointed to Cooley's right cheek.
Cooley lowered her head. “I just don't feel like I'm me anymore sometimes.”
“Carla, your face was never what made you. It was your swagger and your confidence. You have to realize that your face might have attracted women in the beginning, but it was your words and attitude that made them fall crazy for you.”
“Thank you, Dr. Phil, for those inspirational words. But I've heard them before.” Cooley threw a pillow at Denise as they both laughed.
 
 
Denise hailed a cab.
Cooley laughed, calling Denise a New Yorker. Cooley took the sights in while listening to Denise gush about her photo shoot and Mariah.
Her mind drifted to Sahara. Sahara's smile warmed Cooley's body. Misha entered Cooley's mind, the warm feeling replaced with an icy cold.
“Dee, what did you really think of my relationship with Mish? Do you think she ever loved me?”
Denise turned her head toward Cooley. Her forehead wrinkled slightly from the question. “I think that you both loved each other, but not as much as you or she thought you did.”
Cooley's right eyebrow rose. “Elaborate.”
Denise shifted her body toward Cooley. “Well, don't laugh, OK.”
“Oh God, what the hell are you about to say?”
“OK, check this out. I was reading the Twilight Series.”
“Damn here you go.” Cooley giggled at the thought of Denise being apart of the vampire phenomenon that had taken over the planet. She decided to hide her secret of liking the series for a little longer.
“Shut up. You liked the movies too, and I know it. I'm surprised you haven't picked up the book.” Denise smiled.
Cooley threw her middle finger at Denise. She hated when Denise was right.
“But, seriously, in the book the girl Bella is all in love with the vampire, but she also loves the werewolf.”
“Remind me why I am listening to you right now.” Cooley turned her head.
Denise hit her on her shoulder.
“Man, for real, this shit was deep. Jacob, man, loved the hell out of Bella, and even though Bella loved Jacob, her heart already belonged to someone else, Edward.”
Cooley turned back to Denise. “Soooo, you are saying. . .”
“That we are the Jacobs of the world. Misha and Lena, they are Bella. They love us, we are good for them, but their hearts already belong to other people.”
Cooley and Denise looked at each other. Cooley shook her head. “I can't believe that shit actually made sense.”
They both erupted into laughter. The cab driver even smirked at their silly conversation.
“I guess that makes us the wolf pack.”
“Team Jacob.”
Cooley paused. She nudged Denise. “Hell, naw, you did not just say that. I think you are going femme for real.”
 
 
The taxi pulled up to the large building. Denise checked her look as Cooley paid for the cab.
Cooley shook her head. “I don't know who you are anymore.” She crossed her arms, like an emotional woman.
“Shut the hell up.” Denise grabbed Cooley's arm as they walked to the building.
The scene was a lot less busy than the other day. It was fairly quiet. A faint sound of Lady Gaga played over the speakers.
Cooley grinned at the skinny supermodel wannabe sitting behind the desk. She smiled back. Cooley made a mental note to check on her when they left.
“Hello, Ms. Chambers.” The receptionist stood up. Her Chanel skirt was hugging her nonexistent thighs. She walked from behind the desk. “Follow me.” The receptionist glanced at Cooley again.
Denise and Cooley walked behind her, noticing her attempt to switch. Cooley looked at Denise, both thinking the same thing.
“Damn shame,” Cooley whispered.
“No ass at all,” Denise mouthed.
They both giggled.
The receptionist opened a large black door. Denise and Cooley walked in. Marco looked up from the computer in front of him. His associates and brand directors sat in anticipation.
“Ahh, Denise.” Marco pressed his hands together.
“Hello. This is my associate, Carla Wade.”
“Greetings, Ms. Wade. Please.” Marco motioned for Denise and Cooley to sit down. “I'm going to let Armund take over.”
Armund's chair swiveled around; he stood up, his long frame towering over everyone. “Well, as you all know, the first ad campaign just wasn't working for us. Then Denise came along. Everything has come together so well that we are rushing out this out immediately. This will be in every major magazine in the nation.”
Armund pushed a button on a small remote in his hand. Denise's image caught her and Cooley completely off guard.Both were speechless, completely ignoring the claps around them.
Denise struggled to catch her breath, and Cooley was flabbergasted. Denise's image covered the large white wall, her hair wild and curly, her black halter shirt revealing her rock-hard abs, with the Jocku logo on it. From the top up, she was feminine, a sight she was unfamiliar with. Below, a pair of baggy jeans similar to the ones she wore on a daily basis.
“Wow,” Denise muttered.
“This will not be the only one. This is just the first of a few campaigns we are running. The billboard should be placed by the end of next week.” Armund sat back in his chair.
Marco noticed Denise's and Cooley's vacant expressions. “You do not like?”
Denise's head quickly turned to Marco. “Oh no, it's amazing. I just ...” Denise looked at Cooley, whose mouth was still slightly dropped. “I have just never seen myself like that before.”
Marco smiled. “Such humility.”
“Let's see how long it lasts,” Armund stated.
 
 
Cooley and Denise sat in the taxi in silence.
Denise quickly realized how unimportant the model was after taking the picture. She wouldn't be involved in picking pictures or anything. She was the face. She showed up and did whatever they told her to do, a role she was not used to playing.
“Did I do the right thing?” Denise uttered, interrupting the awkward silence.
Cooley looked up from her iPhone. “What do you mean?”
“This whole thing, it's not me. I'm not that woman who was on that wall. What the fuck was I thinking?”
“Dee, I'll admit I was very ...
very
shocked by the look. But, fuck it, if you gotta dress like a damn girl to make yo money, than you do it. I can't lie, you looked good, dude. I was impressed, really. No joking. I think you might just have stumbled into a serious career here.”

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