Scandals (2 page)

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Authors: Sasha Campbell

BOOK: Scandals
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“If I was your size, I would do it in a heartbeat.”
As freaky as Reyna was, she was probably right. See, the problem is Reyna's a big girl. When we first met she was probably wearing a sixteen, but over the years, especially during the stress of opening her own boutique, she started packing on the pounds and was wearing at least a twenty-two. Not that it stopped Reyna. She was a strong believer of you're as beautiful as you feel. Well, as far as Reyna was concerned, she was the hottest chick within a hundred-mile radius. Even now she was sitting with her legs crossed, swinging her foot in the aisle. As usual she was dressing her ass off, wearing a blue jean miniskirt complemented by a fire engine red corset, a jean bolero jacket, and matching five-inch pumps. She didn't let her weight stand in the way of looking good. I'll give it to her, style was one thing she knew a lot about, and she wore it well. I guess that's why she owned Reyna's Couture, the hottest boutique in all of Petersburg.
“Monica, you got one helluva body. Men would go crazy over your ass.”
I appreciated the compliment, but friends were supposed to say that. “Yeah, right,” I said with a laugh. “You know I don't have the guts for that shit.” I still couldn't believe that heifer had suggested such a thing. She was the freaky one, not me.
“Hey, it's good money. My cousin Dawn used to strip, and she made a thousand dollars a week.”
My brow rose.“A thousand? Just to take off her clothes and shake her ass?”
“Yep,” she confirmed with a nod.
Her words went straight to my head, and I took a moment and tried to see myself on stage, doing exactly what she was suggesting, then realized how ridiculous it sounded. I gave her a dismissive wave. “Reyna, puhleeze. I don't even know why I brought it up again. You know I'm not about to take my clothes off for anyone but my man.”
“Yes, but you don't have one of those,” she teased.
“Thanks for reminding me,” I said with attitude. Reaching up, I stroked my fresh new cut just to remember I had something to feel good about. Reyna had a lot of nerve. Hell, she couldn't keep a man.
“Seriously, all jokes aside, you could do it. We can come up with a stage name for you like Juicy or Dimples.” Her eyes sparkled with excitement.
“Juicy and Dimples? Mmm-hmm, that would definitely describe my ass.”
Reyna chuckled. “Hey, that's what men love. A black woman with a big ghetto booty! And you definitely have enough for the two of us.” I couldn't help but laugh because she was right about that. I had plenty of junk in my trunk. “But who in the world wants to watch a woman with little titties trying to dance?” I was flat-chested just like my mama. Reyna had a pair of triple Ds that she played up in corsets and low-cut blouses. It was the one thing I was most self-conscious about. If I could afford it, I would get a boob job in a heartbeat.
“You got enough. What Anthony used to tell you ... that more than a mouthful is a waste?” she reminded me with a wink.
“That asshole said a lot of things. He also said he'd love me forever, but you see where that got me.” I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead. A migraine was coming, I could feel it. It was all the stress of wondering if I was going to be able to pay my light bill next month. That's when I felt someone standing over me.
“Excuse me, sexy. I couldn't help but notice you when you first walked in. You have the most amazing legs.” My eyelids rose and I almost jumped from the seat when I found a dude at our table with bread crumbs clinging to his matted salt-and-pepper beard. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” he asked politely.
Is he for real?
I glanced over at Reyna and wanted to laugh. I could tell she too was struggling to keep a straight face. “No, I ...” I couldn't even finish what I was about to say because at that moment he smiled and I noticed his jacked-up grill. “I don't think so.”
“Then can I have your phone number?” He smiled flirtatiously as his eyes quickly ran over my body. Did he really think I would go out with him? Instead, I was two seconds away from cussing him out. Even if I was dating, I never would have been that desperate.
“Hey! Didn't my girl tell you she's not interested,” Reyna said with attitude in her voice. He took a step back, looking embarrassed. I guess he finally got the message because he walked away and returned to his table close to the front door. Reyna tried to hold it together but as soon as he sat down in his seat, she burst out laughing.
Leaning across the table, I murmured, “Ugggh! He's got a lot of nerve, looking like Grady from
Sanford and Son
.” My comment made Reyna laugh even harder and I couldn't help but join in. We had tears in our eyes. I glanced to my left and made sure he hadn't heard us making fun of him.
Puhleeze.
He had already forgotten about me and was standing over another table trying to holler at some light-skinned chick. I watched as her head started moving while her neck twisted, and it was pretty obvious she was giving him straight attitude.
When Reyna finally stopped laughing, she said, “Now
that's
the type of men dancers up at Scandalous have to deal with, but the beautiful thing is you make a brotha pay for wasting your time.”
The conversation was right back where it had left off. My girl never did know when to quit. I guess it's my fault for bringing it up. “Reyna, I already told you I'm not working at no strip club.” Just the thought of taking my clothes off in front of a bunch of strangers made my stomach turn.
“I could pick you out some really cute outfits from the boutique and teach you how to walk in stilettos.” I swear she almost sounded like she was pleading with me. Damn! Was my girl trying to live vicariously through me?
“Reyna ... girl ... quit dreaming and listen to me. I am not stripping.” I said the words real slow and controlled just so she'd know I meant what I said.
Pouting, she finally leaned back on the bench. “Hooker. I should have known you didn't have it in you.”
While we ate our lunch, I noticed Reyna was still looking down at the newspaper.
Exotic Dancers needed
. Something in my gut told me that until I found a job, this wouldn't be the last time we discussed the subject.
2
Robin
I heard my cell phone vibrating in my purse on the floor and released a sleepy groan because I knew what time it was.
Time to get the hell up outta here.
Slowly, I slid out from under the heavy arm draped across my naked body, then reached down for my purse and carried it into the bathroom with me. While I peed, I pulled out my cell phone and read a text message from my homegirl, Honey.
Treasure, where the fuck you at? Big money at the club.
I was instantly wide awake and shuddering with excitement. Making money was what I do best, and I wasn't about to miss out on a prime opportunity to get paid. Last week I bought myself a brand-new Camaro. Candy apple red and fully loaded. I still had to pay the taxes on that bitch and needed every dime I could get. Trust and believe, I was willing to do whatever it took to make that happen.
I reached for one of the washcloths hanging on the towel rack. It felt hard as hell, but what do you expect to find at a cheap-ass motel that let you rent by the hour? I conducted the sniff test and was relieved that at least it smelled clean. It took almost thirty seconds before the water ran hot. I lathered the cloth real good with that tiny bar of soap and ran it across my entire body. The last thing I needed was to walk into Scandalous smelling like another man. Chris had been wearing Armani Mania tonight. Don't get me wrong, I loved that scent. However, it smelled better on him. I was almost done drying off my body when my phone started vibrating again. I reached down and glanced at the number on the screen before I answered. It was Honey.
“Treasure, where yo ass at?” Her shrill voice came booming through the phone. Honey was trying to talk over the laughter and loud music in the background.
“Ho, I'll be there in a minute. I had to make some quick money.” I tried to whisper just in case Chris was on the other side of the door listening to my conversation. Hopefully not, because I was definitely tryna sneak out before this sexy muthafucka woke up.
“A'ight, but hurry the hell up. Everybody's asking for you.”
Of course they were. Unlike most females, I knew the power I possessed between my thighs. It was my treasure chest. And I used it to my advantage every chance I got.
“Uh ... by the way ... Mercedes is up in here hating on yo ass.”
I sucked my teeth rudely in the phone. Honey thought she was slick. The only reason she'd mentioned Mercedes was because she knew I couldn't stand that bitch, and hearing she was hating was only gonna make me break my neck tryna get down to the club.
Mercedes had been trying for months to gain the spot as the baddest entertainer at Scandalous Gentlemen's Club, but so far no one had been able to still my shine. And as far as I was concerned, they never would. “You make sure you let that skank know I'm on my way.” I ended the call and tossed the phone back into my purse, then stared at my reflection in the mirror. After a long night at the club I looked like shit, but it wasn't anything a little makeup couldn't fix.
I never leave home without it.
I grabbed the small travel-sized deodorant and Bath & Body Works body mist from my purse along with my comb and everything else I needed to look like the dime piece that I was.
It wasn't that I was stuck on myself. I'm just keeping it real. I had my mother's golden eyes and full lips and my father's good hair. I didn't need weave. Every honey-brown strand that hung to the middle of my back was all mine. Grinning, I turned side to side and took in every luscious curve, especially the beautiful double Ds. When my finger grazed my left nipple, I flinched. “Damn.” My breasts were sore because that horny muthafucka lying in the bed had sucked my titties like he was breast-feeding. I figured he was having a childhood flashback or some shit, but who was I to judge. As long as his money was green, I could be whoever the fuck he needed me to be.
Leaning toward the mirror, I applied my mascara carefully, then painted my lips with a deep red shade. I stared at my reflection for a moment longer, then smiled. I had been blessed with looks that most women dreamed of having. In all of Richmond, no one came even close to looking as banging as me ... except for one person.
That person being my older sister, Deena.
Even after all these years, it was hard bringing myself to say her name. Just thinking about her brought up a lot of unforgettable memories. Shit, I'd rather not remember because I still hadn't dealt with the pain. It had been almost a year since that traitor had found my number on Facebook, and she'd been calling me at least once a month ever since. Each and every time, I hung up on her ass. I didn't know how the hell she expected me to forgive her for the shit she'd done to me. Well, I couldn't ... I wouldn't, and as far as I was concerned, I no longer had any family. In my eyes, my sister was dead just like our parents. Only they died in a car accident when I was ten. Deena'd been dead since the day she left my ass at Ms. Ernestine's house and never came back.
Shaking my head, I pushed the thoughts from my head as I put everything back into my purse. I was fishing for a stick of gum when I noticed the wad of money in the zipper compartment. As I put a piece of Juicy Fruit in my mouth, I couldn't help but grin. It had been a good night and, according to Honey, it would only get better.
After taking one final look, I stepped out of the bathroom. That sexy muthafucka had rolled onto his back. I stood there admiring his six-foot-two, two-hundred-forty-pound body. Even sleeping Chris's dick was hard. And Lord knows he knew how to use it. I could still feel him inside me. Just staring at his dick, I was tempted to climb back on for another long ride. But I didn't have time for self-gratification. He and I were strictly business. I was in need of another sponsor, and Chris was a prime candidate.
I met Chris at Scandalous where I danced three nights a week. Now, don't get me wrong. I wasn't no ho; instead, I was a bona fide entertainer. I believed in making sure a man got his money's worth. Chris had been jocking my ass all night—buying drinks, paying for lap dances. He was definitely a high roller, which was what every girl working the club wanted.
I reached down on the floor beside the bed for my pink dress and slipped it over my body. I then retrieved my thong and stuck it in my purse just as Chris rolled over and opened his eyes.
Damn, why the hell he have to wake up?
“Yo, where you going?” he asked in a sleep-sexy voice.
With a silly smirk, I gazed down at him, lying there stretching every muscle in his body. He was what any woman would call hot chocolate. Dark, sweet, and delicious. “I gotta go.”
Chris had the nerve to laugh like he thought I was pulling his leg or some shit. “Whatcha mean you gotta go? I got somethin' here that's worth staying for.” He lay there stroking his dick, and I couldn't believe that thing had the nerve to grow two more inches. Licking my lips, I was tempted, but time was money and I had money on my mind.
“Sorry ... time's up.” I took a seat on the end of the bed and slipped my foot into a strapless stiletto. Obviously, Chris was used to getting his way. He moved across the bed and started kissing my neck.
“How 'bout another hour?” he suggested.
Leaning into him, I closed my eyes and allowed myself a few seconds to enjoy his wet tongue running across my cheek. But when he tried to slobber inside my ear, I flinched and moved away. I hated that shit. “You can have another hour, but it's gonna cost you another two hundred.” Dudes like him just don't seem to get it. Don't get me wrong. I love me a thug. However, if I was thinking about getting serious with a man, which I wasn't, it definitely wouldn't be with a man who paid for pussy. “Sorry, boo, but time is money.”
“See, Treasure ... that's yo problem ... It's always 'bout money. Fuck, you already got five and some change outta my black ass tonight!” he hissed, then paused long enough to bat his long, thick eyelashes at me like I was gonna cave in. “C'mon, can't you give a nigga a break?” Chris spoke in a deep, sexy-ass tone that was supposed to turn me on. He obviously hadn't ever met a bitch like me.
I found my other shoe under the bed and reached for it before meeting his gaze. “This ain't no two-for-one coupon.” I hardened my voice to convince him I was all about business. The dick was good, but it wasn't all that. Besides, Chris knew when he asked me for some he was gonna have to pay for it. Did he really think after throwing it on me I was looking for a relationship?
“I guess it's nothing but business with you.” He had lowered his voice to almost a whisper and then had the nerve to give me this fake-ass look like his feelings were hurt when I knew good and damn well he already had a wifey waiting at home.
“It's
always
business. Seriously, I've got bills, boo.” I leaned over and kissed him several times on the lips. “I had a good time. No doubt. How 'bout we do this again real soon?” Like I said, I was looking for another sponsor. “You got my number, so make sure you holla atcha girl,” I purred seductively. “But right now I gotta go.” I swung my purse onto my shoulder and strutted to the door, leaving him sitting there pouting like a big-ass baby.
I had just turned the knob when I heard him mutter something that sounded like, “a straight-up five-dollar ho.”
My head whipped around and I glared over at Chris. “Nah, boo. You got it all wrong. Thanks to you, I'm a five-
hundred
-dollar ho.” I grinned wickedly, then patted my purse and sashayed out the door.

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