Scandals (7 page)

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Authors: Sasha Campbell

BOOK: Scandals
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“Damn,” I mumbled under my breath and cussed my sister for getting me in this mess in the first place. If her ass wasn't out doing who knows what, I wouldn't have to keep her snotty-ass kid. “I'll keep him, but like I said, you need to take him off my hands from time to time because I'm not about to change my whole life for him.”
Trey moved around the counter shaking his head. “Yo, chill. Nobody asked you to change up your whole routine. I'll keep him the nights that you work and get him off to day care in the morning.” From the smug look on his face, as far as Trey was concerned it was settled. I forced a smile and nodded even though deep down I was already starting to regret my decision.
9
Monica
“Monica ... you can come out now.”
Was Reyna for real? I was never coming out, not after making a fool of myself. But hey, I couldn't blame anyone but myself. I knew from the jump this whole stripping shenanigan was a bad idea but,
noooo
, I had to let Reyna convince me to do it. And now here I was in a bathroom stall at Scandalous, hiding.
I had come in tonight all set to audition. Reyna tagged along for moral support and also because if she wasn't there pushing me through the front door, I probably would have turned around and taken my ass home. Now I wished I had.
I pushed a frustrated tear away as I remembered changing into my costume and stepping out onto the floor in a short lime green micro-miniskirt, a matching bikini top, and those damn platform heels.
“A www sookie, sookie now,” Reyna complimented me. With my head held high and my shoulders back, trying to stick out what little the good Lord had given me, I strutted across the dressing room floor. I had in green contacts and a long bootylicious blond wig, and enough makeup to give Tammy Faye Bakker a run for her money. I was suddenly Deja. We had come up with the stage name Saturday night while drinking margaritas and pole dancing in Reyna's basement, which, by the way, I'm quite good at. Not good enough to be hanging upside from the ceiling, but good enough to swing and dip and draw a man's attention.
The whole idea of auditioning during happy hour on Tuesday arose because it was supposed to be the slowest time. Men got off from work, still in their suits, wanting a drink and to see some ass before going home to whatever boring routine they were accustomed to.
Reyna had given me a gentle push and I stepped out of the dressing room and had barely gone ten feet when the men started catcalling and throwing compliments, making me feel sexy as hell. I swung my hips feeling confident that I could pull off the new persona. As soon as the manager gave me the cue, I climbed onto the platform stage. Reyna tipped the deejay twenty dollars to play Ciara's “Ride.” I closed my eyes and let the music take over, and before I knew it I was gyrating my hips the way Ciara had in her music video, then I strutted over to the pole and swung around, landing in a split. I don't know what it was, but I felt swept up by the atmosphere of the club. I was gyrating and dipping and dancing all across that stage, and when men flooded to the front seats, waving money, I eagerly greeted them one by one, giving them a peekaboo of my crotch. Everything was going so well I was laughing and practically skipping to the next man. That was until I noticed someone sitting at the far end of the stage.
Mr. Jason Biggs.
Arissa and Liese's principal. I jumped off that stage so fast I didn't even bother using the steps and landed like Catwoman. Then in my haste to get away, I tripped on them damn shoes and fell flat on my face. Of course the itty-bitty-ass skirt didn't hide a thing, and my bare ass in a thong was on display for everyone to see. I had never been so humiliated in my life. As soon as some man helped me to my feet, I dashed into the bathroom and been hiding ever since.
“Monica, did you hear me? You can come out now.”
“No! I'm never coming out. I wanna go home!” I wailed. This whole situation was a hot mess. I knew I sounded like a five-year-old, whining and shit, but how else was I supposed to act? If Jason had noticed me, I didn't know what I would do.
Reyna knocked and I jumped. “Monica, he's gone.”
I took a deep breath. “How do you know?”
“Because I went over and talked to him before he went out the door.”
“Talked to him!” I yanked open the door to the stall and gave her an incredulous look. “You went over and talked to him?” Goodness, what was she trying to do, get me recognized?
When a smile curled the corners of her lips, I could tell she was trying not to laugh. “Yes, the second I sat down and hiked up my skirt, I had his full attention. He told me he was a principal and gave me the entire spill on no kid being left behind. Goodness, his ass was boring! Then when the conversation changed to a more personal level, I asked him if he knew any of the dancers here, and he said no, he just liked to come in on Tuesdays to unwind.”
I'm sure my eyes were practically bulging outta my head. “Damn, y'all had time to talk about all that? Have I been in here that long?” To me that whole ordeal had happened in a matter of minutes but there was no telling how many times I stood there flushing the toilet.
Reyna shrugged like I had no reason to be tripping. “Anyway, he's gone. So you can go back out there.”
In all that excitement, I had lost the nerve. Those men saw me fall on my ass. “There is no way in hell I can go back out there and show my face.”
Reyna gave me an impatient sigh. I'm sure she was getting sick of my whining. Well, too bad. I didn't see her trying to climb on a stage and shaking her ass.
“Fine ... let's go home.” She put on a sad face and signaled for me to lead the way. I stepped out of the stall and glanced at my image in the mirror. I had to do a double take. Was that really me? Because I didn't even recognize myself. What were the chances that Mr. Briggs had recognized me? I was starting to think little to none. Maybe not at all.
Reyna reached into her jeans pocket, then held out her hand. “Here, this is yours.”
I looked down at the wad of money. “What the—”
She cut me off. “When you went flying outta there like a running back for the Baltimore Ravens, you left your money on the stage. One of the chicks was nice enough to get it for you.”
I looked at all the ones, fives, and even a twenty, and was already counting and thinking about what I would do with that money. A tank of gas. Some groceries. I smiled and looked up at Reyna. “I guess I can do this.”
Her large brown eyes sparkled. “I know you can. The proof 's right here. Just think when you give a man a lap dance ...” She started humping the trash can.
Oh yeah. My mind stared racing and I was suddenly thinking about catching up on my bills and finally having money to spend on the girls again. It would be so nice to take them to Busch Gardens next month and not worry about which bill wouldn't get paid in the process.
“Monica, you can do that shit. You should have seen yourself. All those years of gymnastics ... and let's not forget the weekend practicing in my basement. Girl, you looked damn good out there!”
“Really?” I was starting to believe her, but it didn't hurt to hear it again.
She was nodded and grinning. “Monica, you had them men's mouths wide open. You should have seen them when you did that dip and made your ass clap. This one dude dropped his drink.”
“You lying!”
Smiling, Reyna shook her head. “Nope. I'm serious. You had all them horny muthafuckas on lock.”
I don't know if she was just saying that to make me feel good enough to go back out there, but whatever it was, it worked. I moved over to the mirror and fixed my wig, which was sitting lopsided. I looked at my reflection as a beautiful caramel entertainer stepped into the bathroom, and smiled at me.
“
Hola, chica
, you ripped that stage!” she said.
“Thank you.” I cut my eyes in Reyna's direction and she gave me an I-told-you-so grin.
The Hispanic chick stood at the mirror beside me and started fixing her hair but I noticed her eyes kept dropping to my ass. At first she was discreet but then she was openly checking me out. I heard Reyna mumble
what the fuck?
under her breath before I swung around with my hand to my hip.
“Can I help you with something?” I had attitude for obvious reasons.
She licked her lower lip shamelessly. “I need a
chica
to go on stage with me. I got some dude that's willing to pay us a hundred each to do a sixty-nine.”
Was this chick for real?
“Just think about it and I'll see you out front. By the way, my name is Lourdes.” She winked, then swung on her heels and exited the bathroom.
Oh, my God. I turned to Reyna, who was cracking up with laughter.“
Ohmygoodness!
Can you believe that shit?” I exclaimed and glanced at the door, making sure she wasn't coming back.
Her eyes crinkled with excitement. “I know, right? She wants to eat your pussy.”
“What the fuck? I couldn't believe how bold she was!”
Reyna shrugged. “Hey, she liked what she saw,” she said, then sashayed over, imitating the look she had given me. “Damn, baby, you thick.”
“Shut up, Reyna!” I said and playfully pushed her away.
“Monica, girl, you might as well get ready because all of them bitches are gonna want some of your thick ass. There's a new sheriff in town! And her name is Deja.”
I gave her a fist bump, then headed back into the dressing room to change into my jeans and T-shirt. I'd had enough for one evening. Friday night would get here soon enough. And for some crazy reason, I was suddenly looking forward to it.
10
Robin
I had the feeling someone was watching me.
Slowly, I rolled onto my back, opened one eye and then the other. That was when I heard the giggling and cartoons blasting from the flat screen television mounted on the wall above my dresser.
Dammit, the little rugrat had invaded my space.
“Kyle, what're you doin' in my bed?” Not only had he climbed in my bed, but he managed to change the channel. Last night, I'd sat up watching a movie on Lifetime until I drifted off to sleep. Now it was blaring with some talking yellow sponge who lived at the bottom of the sea.
“I'm hungry, Aunt Robin.”
I was seconds away from throwing the pillow over my head and screaming, but there was something about the way he said “Aunt Robin” that always seemed to melt my heart. I guess I never thought about being someone's aunt. I never thought about being someone's guardian either, but you see how that worked out for me.
It had been five days since I agreed to take Kyle into my home, and let me just say that boy wore me out faster than a night of lap dances. At first I was resistant to getting to know him any more than I needed to. I figured what was the point? Deena would be out on bail soon and my life would be back to normal. However, the judge denied her bail, and Kyle was not a kid to be ignored. He demanded attention. I mean all the damn time. At first I found him annoying as hell, but then I noticed how much he looked like my sister, and as much as I hated her right now, I didn't have any reason to feel the same way about him. Kyle was really a good kid, just nosy as hell.
I expected him to be shy and to need time to adjust to living with a stranger, but instead he stepped into my crib and acted like he'd known me all his life. It was crazy and such a big relief all at the same time because I was definitely dreading the awkward period, wondering what the hell the two of us had to talk about besides his jailbird mother. But apparently Deena had told him all about his aunt Robin with the ashy knees who could outrun everybody in the neighborhood.
I glanced over at the clock. Damn. It was barely eight o'clock. Did the kid ever sleep? I rolled out of bed, put on my slippers, and moved down to the kitchen. Thank goodness I had gone shopping yesterday. I grabbed a bowl and filled it to the rim with the sugar-crack cereal and covered it with milk. “Kyle, your cereal's ready.”
“Coming!” he screamed as he came flying down the stairs in bare feet.
“Where the hell's your socks?”
He shrugged and gave me this irresistible grin. He was missing two front teeth. “I don't know. I think Mr. Kermit ate 'em.” Mr. Kermit was his stuffed green frog and his best friend who he blamed everything on to keep from getting in trouble.
“Well, you need to tell Mr. Kermit to buy his own pair.”
He laughed then moved over to the breakfast bar and climbed up onto a stool, which took some effort. “Sit down Aunt Robin.”
Damn! I was planning to crawl under the covers and go back to sleep. He could eat the whole freakin' box of cereal for all I cared. I moved over to the stool beside him and watched as he shoveled food into his mouth. He was such a cute kid. I didn't have any idea who his father was, but he couldn't have been half-bad-looking. Kyle had long lashes and the biggest brown eyes. They were so innocent. Like I said before, it made it hard for me to stay distant from him. His skin was the color of the inside of a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup and he had this mass of sandy brown curls on top of his head. I sat there with my elbow on the counter and my hand propping up my head because I was seconds away from falling asleep.
“Aunt Robin, is my mommy ever coming back?”
We'd had that conversation every day since he arrived. I was starting to think that maybe he didn't believe me. “Yeah, Kyle. Your mother's comin' back. She just has to stay in that place just a little bit longer.”
“Why? Was she bad? Is that why the police took her away?”
Damn, for a little person, he sure asked a lot of questions. “The police think that she did somethin' bad, but she didn't do anything. She'll be home soon. I promise.”
I knew that wasn't the right thing to say. Hell, I didn't give a damn if my sister ever got out of jail. The only reason it mattered was I was stuck with her kid until she did. A week or two I could tolerate, but longer than that would seriously cramp my style. I'd gotten a call the other day to make some quick easy money. It wouldn't have been more than a few hours in a hotel, grinding on top of one of my regulars, but I had to turn him down because I'd have to find someone to watch Kyle while I was gone. Trey kept him enough so it wouldn't be fair to ask him for any more than he was already doing. Shit, there was nothing worse than being on lockdown. Nope, I didn't have any room in my life for a kid. Even if he was family.
After his cereal, we went back to my room and I had to bribe the kid just to shut him up. I promised him McDonald's for lunch if he let me sleep while he watched cartoons. That lasted about an hour before he was patting me on the shoulder and complaining he was thirsty. I've said it but I'm going to say it again. I don't see how women have two or three kids, because one was way too much.
I grabbed him a glass of juice, then crawled back under the sheets with him propped up on the pillows beside me. I must have dozed off because when I finally woke up, the clock said noon and Kyle wasn't in my room.
“Kyle!”
There was no answer. I rose and slipped my feet into my slippers. I went into the spare bedroom that was supposed to be my walk-in closet but that I had made into a room for him. It meant pulling out the futon.
I stuck my head inside and he wasn't in there. “Kyle,” I cried again, but still there was no answer. Suddenly I got scared. There was too much shit on the news about kids being kidnapped. I was racing down to the kitchen to grab the phone when I stopped in my tracks. Kyle was standing on a chair in front of the sink, elbow deep in bubbles.
“What are you doing?”
“Auntie, I'm washing the dishes for you.”
I lifted him down off the chair and pointed a finger at him. “Boy, don't you ever scare me again!”
“I was trying to help,” he said, and his bottom lip quivered and I couldn't stay mad at him even if I wanted to.
I sighed. “My bad. Just next time you hear me calling your name, you answer me, okay?”
He nodded his little head and pointed those big eyes of his in my direction. Damn, I'm a sucker for this kid.
“Can I have McDonald's now?”
I sighed and threw my hands up in surrender. “Sure, let me get dressed.”
We end up spending the entire afternoon out at the mall. That boy had so much energy he wore me out, running up and down the aisles. We went to the Chesterfield Town Center after we left McDonald's. I went to Victoria's Secret to get a red G-string and Gap Kids for a new pair of jeans for Kyle. As I was coming out, I spotted Trey. I tilted my Rocawear tinted glasses and gazed across at his sexy ass for a few seconds, mesmerized.
“Trey! Trey!” Kyle dashed across the mall. Mr. Sexy turned, saw him and smiled wide.
I took my time walking toward him and was glad I took extra care in my appearance. I was rocking red skinny jeans, a white and red Deréon blouse, and five-inch red pumps. The higher the heel, the sexier my legs looked. As I sashayed toward him, I didn't miss the women staring him down and doing what they could to get his attention. But the only person Trey seemed to have eyes for was that little shorty jumping all around like a ping-pong ball. And now he was smiling at me.
“Hey.”
Damn. Did I mention how sexy he was? “Hey.”
“Y'all got plans for dinner?” he asked.
I shook my head, loving the way my hair brushed across my back. “Nope, I gotta work, remember?”
“I remember. How about you coming over early, eat and chill at my place until you gotta leave?” he suggested.
I brought a hand to my hip and stuck out the twins for added measure. What man can resist a pair of double Ds? And sure enough his eyes were drawn to my generous cleavage. I don't know what suddenly came over me but I wanted Trey to like me. I mean really like me. The way a man is feeling a woman he wants to get to know better. After the drama Halo put me through, call me crazy, but there was just something about Trey that made my entire body salivate. My coochie was practically speaking in tongues. “Can you cook?”
“I see you got jokes.” He laughed. “I guess you'll find out when you get there.”
I guess I will.
I climbed onto the stage, put my money pouch and a glass of Hennessey and Coke in the corner where I could see them, then moved to the center of the stage and allowed the music to take over. The second I started swinging my hips, niggas started flooding the seats surrounding the stage, waving money in their hands. I smiled because I loved the attention and reached for the pole and pulled myself up to the top and slowly swung around until I landed in a split. Brothas were hollering and even some of the other dancers had stopped what they were doing to watch me. From the mouth of Tupac,
All eyez on me.
Most of the chicks just stared with their playa-hating asses. Others watched, hoping to copycat my moves. They just don't get it. You can't duplicate perfection. I twirled around that pole so fast they could only shake their heads in amazement. Each and every time, I made sure everyone knew why I stayed on top and everybody else needed to fall back.
In six-inch purple platforms, I sashayed to the first man on the left and made my booty clap, and his mouth dropped. One by one I took their money and tossed it to the center of the stage while doing nothing more than shaking my ass and rubbing my titties across their cheeks. By the second song I lowered my dress onto the stage and stood there in nothing but a black G-string that left little to the imagination.
“Shiitt, baby. Can I get a lap dance?” shouted some dorky-looking dude on the end.
I leaned in close and made sure he smelled my sweet, hot breath as I whispered, “Absolutely.” I allowed my lips to graze his ear and felt him shiver.
I finished working the stage, trying to give as many of them my undivided attention as I could until the end of the last song. Brothas were trying to cop a feel and spitting game, but I wasn't having any of it. You wanted some of me, you needed to pay for a lap dance; then we could talk about taking things to the next level. I was selective in the men I chose because I didn't have time for games. After that bullshit with Halo, I typically picked the married ones as sponsors, or in other words, the ones that had something to lose. That way I eliminated some of the psychos.
I gathered my money and stuck it in the pouch, then grabbed my drink and came off the stage to find dorky boy standing patiently at the bottom of the stairs. I smiled at him like I had been waiting all my life to meet him, then took his hand and led him up to the VIP section. I set my price, waited until I got my money in my hands, then went to dancing in his lap. To my right, I spotted a new chick trying to work some brother's lap. She looked like she didn't know what the hell she was doing, but most new chicks didn't. She was older but pretty just the same. Ms. Size Nine had toned legs and a big chocolate ass. It wasn't jiggly either; instead it was nice and tight. Just the way men liked them. She was packing a powerhouse. Bitches were gonna be hating, especially the skinny ones with flat asses. She was obviously wearing a long black wig with bangs, but it didn't take away from her beautiful face. She was definitely a looker and had staying power, which was important in order to survive in this game. I was gonna have to keep my eye on her.
Ms. Size Nine was long gone by the time I got finished working up dorky dude. He promised to come back and see me again, and for an extra twenty I even let him touch my breasts because he wanted to know if they were real.
I finished my drink and by the time I made it to the dressing room, I heard loud screaming. As soon as I stepped into the room, Ursula, our house mom, looked over at me and shook her head. I pushed my way through the crowd and spotted Mercedes standing in front of Ms. Size Nine going off.

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