Thong on Fire (14 page)

It was hard as hell for me to sit still. I wanted to get back up and walk around and see who I knew and who I might wanna meet, but Tai’s feet were already hurting and she didn’t want me to leave her sitting there by herself.

That kinda irked me because I was used to moving whenever I felt the urge to move. I had never been one of them sistahs who needed to take somebody with them to the bathroom or the damn water fountain and shit. I was a solo act, and if I did have another chick up in my game you could best believe her sole purpose was to direct all incoming traffic my way.

“Envy Me” by 50 Cent blasted over the speakers as people took their seats and I jumped up and started working my goods right there at the table.

“Ooooh!” I grinned at Tai, who was patting her swollen foot to the beat. “That’s my cut, goddamn it! That is
my
motherfuckin’ cut!”

And it truly was. I was styled and paid and noticed and requested, and had niggas
and
bitches desiring me. The dirty little girl from the hood was gone, and now Saucy the underdog was right on top. And I planned on staying my ass there.

The show started late, but that was cool. Some lemon-faced guy from Tai’s job had seats next to us, and when I saw her swivel her chair around to talk to him, I jetted while her back was turned.

The joint was jumping and filled up to the max. Rap fans and music lovers was ready to hear their favorite artists turn the mutha out. I walked around talking to industry insiders and being seen. Yeah, you know they had photographers snapping pictures out the ass, and I definitely got up in my share.

The lights went low and everybody started sitting down. It felt great to be able to switch my ass all the way up to the front of the joint, weaving between tables and chairs, being seen the whole time. I climbed the four steps to the lower stage and paraded my way over to the table. There were two couples sitting with Tai and that guy she was talking to, and I figured they probably worked at her job too.

“Saucy!” Tai said, introducing me to the guy she was with. “This is one of the top executives at my job, Jaheim Miller. Jaheim, this is my best friend, Saucy.”

He reached out to shake my hand, and I almost laughed out loud as both of the other two men at the table stared at me as I took my seat, then looked away real quick.
Yea,
I was saying as I laughed inside.
Don’t get your grill tossed lookin’ at me, papi. If your woman is wearing that off-label shit, I know damn well you ain’t got enough bricks to get with me!

Diddy was hosting the show, and he got out there and started dancing and shit like the joint was empty and he was all by himself.

“That is one paid nigga,” I sighed, then clapped when he finished his routine.

“Paid don’t mean shit,” Tai said, “when you trying to get out of paying your child support.”

I smirked and gave her a look. “Why the hell would I care about his child support? I’m not having
no
nigga’s babies!”

I thought I mighta heard Tai mumble,
Well thank God,
under her breath, but then the VIP hostess was at our table ready to take our drink orders. We had finished Tai’s bottle before we left my crib, and we’d smoked some trees in the back of the cab. But right now I was feeling kinda gansta and had a taste for either some Old English or Thug Passion, but instead I ordered some more Yak.

“You can bring me a double shot of Hen dog, no ice. And a Coke on the side.”

Tai ordered the same thing.

All of the acts were banging. Candy Montana got up there and ripped up the stage. Her and her man Knowledge Graham was doing some real Arrested Development–type, pull-each-other-up shit with their artists, and they had a real big operation going over at Knowledge Is Power Records. I watched her rocking her ass in some tiny booty shorts all over the stage and smirked. Candy thought she was it with that ugly scar on her face. She had booty and could sing, yeah, but I wasn’t really feeling her. That bitch thought all that red hair meant something, and them blue eyes too. She just didn’t know. She wasn’t flyer than me.

Ciara made a quick appearance and sang her little ass off. She had on a pale pink cling dress that fit her real nice, but somebody shoulda told her to pull them damn panties off and invest in a thong. Shit, I coulda thrown her mine because those bloomer lines were fucking up her whole game.

That fine-ass Common took the stage right after her, and he was so close to us I could see down his throat. I had been feeling him from the very beginning and I sat in my chair and melted as Tai lowered her head and waved her arm back and forth in the air like she was catching holy ghost vapors in church.

“Now that,” she said, wiping sweat from her face when she was finished. “Is a real mothafuckin’ man!”

About ten minutes later Tai was hyped for real.

“Here he comes!” she said excitedly, stomping her swollen feet. “Freedom Moore is coming out!”

I watched as one of the finest niggas I’d ever seen stepped on the stage. All of them pictures I’d seen of him in music magazines didn’t even halfway tell his story. He had mad presence like Jay-Z, but was much darker and harder, like Fiddy.

His boy Extra came out behind him, and Diddy turned toward them and announced, “Bringing it to you on some real street shit tonight is the man you’ve all been waiting for! My man Free is doing this show strictly for charity, ’cause after tonight—he’s hanging up his mic and going into retirement!! That means every damn body in the audience oughtta feel honored as hell to be witnessing this final performance of one of hip hop’s most lyrical and successful businessmen and artists! Now put your hands together and show your love for your headliner for the night, the CEO of Ruthless Rap and
my man,
Freedom Moore!”

I was on the edge of my chair as the beat kicked up and Extra cracked the air with his bouncin’ beat and sexy hook.

Yo, I need the wifey-type!

That’s all I need!

Long hair, brown skin, like to blow in the weed,

I need the wifey-type, that’s all I want,

Shawty holla atcha boy, we can ball and stunt…

“That’s me!” I told Tai as Free’s female fans started screaming and amping out. “That’s
me,
goddamn it!”

Extra stepped up front and hit a real sweet verse.

Yo, I need the wifey-type!

Good-sense college type!

Independent, do-for-herself, with low mileage type!

Not the chicken type, jump-off trickin type

Every time she see me with a broad wanna pick a fight…

“Uh-uh,” Tai hollered, dancing in her seat. “
That’s
you, Saucy! That shit right there is you all damn day!”

I laughed and gave her my middle finger. “Go to hell, Tai!”

I need the real-type, cook a hot meal type

Boys happen to run down, she stash the grills type!

The love-bound type, hold a nigga down type

Beat pop off, first to let off a round type!

Pretty sound type, light-skin brown type

Chinky eyes, long hair, ass real round type

When you beat it down, moan real loud type!

Not insecure always gone be around type

“Oh yeah!” I screamed, jumping up and rocking my hips in big circles as I spanked my own bouncing booty. “That nigga just said my name!
Chinky eyes, long hair, ass real round type!
” I plopped back in my chair and leaned over and slapped Tai’s arm. “Say that ain’t me, huh? Say it ain’t me, miss thang!”

“Sit down, stupid! Here he comes!”

I looked up and damn if Freedom Moore hadn’t jumped down off the upper stage. He was walking toward our table with his eyes dead on me. He stepped up on us and took my hand, and everybody on the lower stage started clapping and screaming as he started grooving to the beat. He addressed the crowd then started spitting his shit right at
me
!

What’s good? Uh-huh,

Wifey type!

Belly-ring, icy type,

But she never too cool for the Nikes type

The love me type, break down dutchies type,

Quick to bail a nigga out when they cuff me type,

The classy type, bedroom NASTY type!

Give brain but she never gone scratch me type.

I almost fell out. Tai was screaming and stomping her feet and covering her mouth like a damn groupie, but I played that shit cool like big niggas got up on a stage and called me out every night. I knew I had an audience of a few thousand, so I smiled a little and looked into his eyes giving him my fuck-me gaze. I held on to his hand, danced in my chair, and bopped my head to his beat.

The chocolate type! Walk it and talk it type!

Let a nigga knock it down in the office type!

The sexy type, never tryta press me type,

If I ever fall off gone catch me type,

The jersey type

Hips real curvy type

While I cruise in the whip gone serve me type!

The worthy type, hit me off early type,

Five rounds in the sack wanna work me type!

The kinky type! Carry the blinky type!

Recognize I’ma G, wanna keep me type!

He urged me to stand up and I could feel the hater bitches staring at me, their eyes burning through my clothes. I was commanding mad attention under the spotlight and I knew my goodies was looking luscious and every dude in the joint had his booty-googles aimed on me.

But then the music switched up and he really put my head on swole. I didn’t know how to act when ol’ boy pulled me up onto the main stage with him and held my arm high in the air, slowly twirling me around so him and everybody else could get a 360-degree view. He looked at my ass, then whistled and started muttering his rap like I was hurtin’ him and he appreciated the hell outta what he saw.

Them jeans fittin’ some type a’ way,

Got ya boy in the spot feelin’ some type a’ way!

With him still holding my hand above my head, I did a real nasty booty dance, hiking it up and letting it drop down low. Niggas was in the house clapping and whistling, and for a minute I got a G-Spot flashback and I actually caught myself looking down to see how much money was landing on the floor.

Free laughed and danced a little bit himself, then he blew the house up with his sexy gangsta rap.

My click so proper!

Get those dollas,

You feeling it, then lemme see you lift those knockers!

Ma, get ya mind straight, make it gyrate!

See ya man with the dry face looking irate!

I’m peepin ya belly button and ya tongue got a ring in it

Now all you missing is a little bit a’ Free in it!

It’s not like I’m pressing you miss, I’m just prepping you,

Open off what I’m telling you, scared to let me next to you

Like if we end up sexing I might think anything less of you

Maybe I will,

But—

Maybe I won’t!

Go down?

Maybe I do,

But—

Maybe I don’t!

Diddy was on the side of the stage jumping up and down on that one! He was pumped on Free’s lyrics and making sure everybody else felt that shit too. Below us, Tai and damn near everybody else on the VIP stage level were on their feet dancing. People had pushed their chairs out the way and were dancing around their tables. Y’all know what the hell I was doing. I was up there enjoying the spotlight and selling my goodies like they was hot buttered buns. Free grinned, then really started getting nasty on ’em.

We the ones the haters hatin the most!

We pull up to the club,

Taking they bitches while they taking our coats, like yo!

Shawty com’ere lemme feel how them lips is!

The way them hips shift, I can tell you gifted,

You know who the click is,

You know how we get bizz,

And I can put it down, whateva ya twist is!

He let the beat take over as he led me back down the steps to the VIP area. He paraded me around to every table, pausing at each one so I could do a little dance for the brothers and theycould see what I was packing. He rapped behind me, shaking his head and pointing at my ass.

She got a bubble in her birthday cake!

Now that’s trouble in the worst way—wait ay!

She got a bubble in her birthday cake!

Now that’s trouble in the worst way—wait ay!

I grinned and tossed my curly ponytail around and worked my hips like I was his personal video ho. When I got in front of Tai’s friend Jaheim, I acted like I was giving him a lap dance. That skinny red nigga didn’t know what to do with all this! He actually held his hand out like, don’t rub all that big booty on me! Free laughed and took me back to the middle of the stage, then kissed me and turned me toward the audience.