URBAN: Chosen By A Kingpin (67 page)

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Authors: Shantel Johnson

BOOK: URBAN: Chosen By A Kingpin
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I must admit though. Every night since then wasn’t completely boring. Rasheed was doing some remodeling at the bar, changing some colors, menu items, and even some employees. Rasheed knew that I didn’t talk to any of my co-workers and he wanted to change that, so he sent me and Tracey out to a club to socialize. I didn’t want to go, but I was getting paid for it, and I loved my money. So I agreed to go and Tracey met me at my apartment.

Tracey was a bit older than me. She was twenty-nine. She was thin, but she filled out that blue waitress uniform perfectly. Her skin was the color of sand, but it was clear and vibrant. She was from the rich side of New, Jersey, but she was here because her parents didn’t think she could handle living on her own a few years back. When she proved it to them, they gave her a lump of cash, and let her be. I’m not really sure why she stayed there after that, but I think she was fucking Rasheed.

“Damn mama, you look good,” Tracey exclaimed as I hopped into her Chevy Impala. I was wearing a low-cut gold halter dress that stopped right underneath my ass and the cleavage cut was all the way down to my belly-button.

“Thanks girl,” I replied, “What are we gettin’ into?”

“I don’t know,” she said pulling off, “I guess we’ll figure it out.”

She drove us around for a bit and at around ten o clock pm, she pulled up behind a place called Ardeago’s. I had never been there before. I heard that it was way too rich for my blood and when we got out of the car and got in, I was sure. Upon entering through the large glass doors, there was a mini foyer and a small set of stairs that lead to a hallway to the main dance floor. The walls were crystal all over the building and everything was a beautiful silver color. There were black bar counters and drapes over the windows. The place made me feel kind of wealthy and we partied like we were wealthy. We danced all over the floor and drank the night away. We even got a few numbers, I never used any of mine, but it was nice to know that someone liked my face enough to want to see it again. That night after the club we went to a diner and grabbed some food, then I spent the night at her place. She has a nice little home and her roommate has the hottest boyfriend. I couldn’t really sleep that night so I spent it on her couch watching movies and stuffing my face. It was probably one of the greatest nights I’ve had just chilling since my mom died.

Aside from that, I was just really moody after not hearing from Mr. DeVito. I remember very clearly, the 8th of October, exactly two months after my night with him, I woke up vomiting. I had felt sick the entire week before and took the week off, but that day was the tipping point when I smelt something terrible seeping through the vents in my apartment. I had no idea what it could be, but it sent me over my edge and I barely made it to the bathroom before I hurled. I decided I needed to go to the Emergency Room, but I couldn’t drive myself. So I called Rasheed.

“The hospital? Are you sure mama?” he asked.

“Yes. Can you take me?”

“I’m on my way, sit tight, and try to get some fresh air.”

Rasheed was at my house within the next 20 minutes. He brought me to the hospital and asked if I wanted him to stay with me. I did, however, I knew he was a busy man and I told him I’d call when I was finished. I checked in, then sat in the waiting room for about an hour reading a magazine and checking my phone.

“Chantel Wilson?”

I looked up from the magazine I was reading.

“Who’s asking?” I asked with my full attention on the good looking man that stood in front of me.

“Baby doll? You really don’t remember my fine self?” He rubbed his right nipple in a circular motion.

The only person that ever called me baby doll was Brenton Montgomery. Brenton was my best friend in high school. We did literally everything together, we told each other our deepest secrets, and we even lost our virginities to each other. Everyone thought we dated, but we didn’t, he was just the only person I could trust. Brenton Montgomery and I were a friendly couple. We didn’t date, but we did things as a couple. I didn’t like him in a more than a friend type of way.

Before we graduated we decided to visit each other often, at least once a month. With him going to NYU and me going to Rutgers, it wouldn’t be hard with the schools only being forty five minutes away. The plan was perfect, except I stopped texting him a few weeks after he left. He was starting with a few summer classes, and I was getting one last summer vacation at home because my mom was sick. My mom died right before my enrollment deposit was due. I was on my own. I thought of calling him or his mom, but I never did, I never went to college, and I never lived my dreams. I stayed in the house for a while after the funeral. He came over a lot, but I never answered the door; he sent me letters, and text messages, he had food delivered and called almost every day. I never responded, and one day, he stopped feeding into it. I don’t know why I stopped talking to him exactly. The only thing I could think of was that I met him through my mother, and he would remind me of her, but I met Rasheed through my mother as well, so that couldn’t be the reason.

I jumped up from my seat, “Brenton! Baby, it’s been forever!” He embraced me in a long overdue hug, and I felt at peace, like nothing was wrong anymore, and there was no reason at all for me to be at the hospital. Brenton’s embrace was stronger than I remembered too. He used to be scrawny and my boobs could kill him. If I could explain how real the glow up was, I would. He had a strong, muscular build, but because I worked in a bar I could tell the beer gut was real.

“I know girl,” he muffled into my hair as the hug lingered. If there were a scent to heaven, it would be Brenton. It felt like all the pain from cramps in my lower abdomen to my headache was gone in that moment.

When we finally let go and sat down with each other, I apologized for not hitting him back up, an honest mistake on my part. He was the best friend anyone could ask for and I screwed him over. He caught me up on how he went to NYU for a year and then transferred to Manhattan College to follow behind a girl he met. They dated for a bit, then she dumped him for someone who she thought would make more money after college. He was down in the dumps and could have used a shoulder to cry on, he explained. It made me blush knowing that I wasn’t there for the friend that was always there for me.

He took a year out of school after that to recollect his thoughts, and regain sanity. He used that year to discover New York and it was more than he could have imagined. He got a lot of opportunities, to be something big, but he knew that his mother was working hard to put him through college for a reason, so he returned to school, finished his business degree and now he’s a freelance manager for starving artists of different professions. He told me that he was back in Newark visiting because his mom was in the hospital. She had been for a few days. I felt bad for Mama ‘Gomery. I felt even worse because I hadn’t been calling her to check up on her.

“I’m sorry,” I replied.

He grabbed my hand and smiled a kind of half smile, “It’s all good baby doll, tell me what’s been going on with you,” he looked at me attentively.

I told him mostly everything that had happened since we had last talked. I even told him about Tracey. I did leave out sleeping with DeVito. It wasn’t important anymore, because it didn’t get me anywhere and outside of the great sex, he was dead to me.

“Chantel Wilson,” the desk clerk called out.

I got up, exchanged numbers with Brenton, and headed to the backroom. I felt so bad all of a sudden when I left him. Like I was leaving a part of me behind.

Chapter 8

“Hello?” Brenton answered.

“Yes, Mr. Montgomery, I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time,” I replied.

“It’s three o clock in the morning, you tell me,”

I smiled into the phone, “Great, I need you to meet me, in about thirty minutes, can you do that?”

“Chantel, what is going on?”

“Sounds good, I will see you there.”

“Chantel Wilson! Chantel! Hello? Daayuumm…” He hung up.

I grinned and threw on some grey sweat pants, a white tank top, and a red, plaid button down shirt. I slid on my red slippers that matched my shirt and a grey beanie over my unruly hair. I shoved everything that had any kind of importance into the only two duffel bags I owned and then threw my clothes into two trash bags. I grabbed my keys and the envelope of money I had saved from under my mattress, then headed out the door, the fresh air smelled great.

I hopped in my car and tossed everything I was carrying in the back of it, then I broke down into tears. I cried for a good thirty minutes, before I cleared my eyes enough to look up to find Brenton hovering over my door. He opened my door, and pulled me out of the car. He hugged me tightly and I fit perfectly into his strong hold. I could not help, but to begin to sob again. He said nothing, he just held me for what seemed like hours, but only turned out to be ten minutes.

“I think I want to go,” I said.

“Okay baby doll,” he grabbed my hand and led me to his huge truck. He opened the door for me and helped me in. He strapped my seatbelt and closed the door. He got into the truck and drove off without saying a word. He drove to the spot where I had planned on meeting him, which was a small diner we used to sneak off too at night in high school. He ordered my favorite meal and him a coffee. I had stopped sobbing, and I was extremely hungry, so I ate and didn’t stop until it was all gone.

Brenton said nothing, the entire time, just sipped at his coffee and stared directly into my eyes.

“Thanks,” I broke into the silence.

He nodded in reply.

I checked the time, it was almost five am.

“I should let you get home.”

“No the hell you should not. You should tell me why my right tittie is wet with Chantears.”

I grinned, but it quickly faded, no Mr. DeVito, I am not on the pill, “Brenton, I’m pregnant.”

There was a long pause, or at least it seemed long.

“Brenton?”

Still nothing.

Brenton called the waitress over and got the check, he paid for my meal, and his coffee, and we left. He drove me straight back to my apartment, again in silence. We sat in the parking lot of my building for a good bit before anyone spoke.

“So is that what your hospital visit was about earlier today?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I know the dad can’t be the girl, and you didn’t tell me shit about being with a guy. Who is the baby’s father?”

“I don’t know.”

His gaze snapped toward me and burnt holes through my soul, “Chantel Diana Wilson, how the hell do you not know who the father of your baby is? Who did you sleep with?”

I really didn’t want to tell him that I had a one night stand with a billionaire. It was improper and against our best friend code. I knew the only way he would let me rest about it, though, is if I did tell him.

“Andrew DeVito.”

“The CEO that you interviewed with?”

I nodded.

“Fuck Chantel! He never called you back? Now your baby is gonna be a fucking bastard, like you were, like I was?” he was sensitive about that kind of thing, “Why would you put the kid through that same shit? You know how tough it is on these streets. If you were gonna do it, you should have wrapped it up.” He took a deep breath.

“Ok, we’re going to go into this apartment, pack some clothes, and you’re flying out to Florida tonight. He needs to know about his child. You owe him that at least.”

I reached into my pocket and handed him a crumpled note. He turned on the interior lights to read the note.

 

Ms. Wilson,

 

It has been a pleasure having you/your family as a resident here for the past 30 years. Due to reasons beyond our control, we are giving you 2 days to get out. If we can help you move, please don’t hesitate to ask in the main office.

 

We are sorry,
Apartment Management

 

“Tel, what is this about?” He asked holding the note up.

“I don’t know.”

“Chantel!” He scolded.

“Damn it Brent! I don’t fucking know! I got home from the hospital and it was taped to my damn door. If you wanna bring your happy go lucky ass down to the office and argue this shit,” I snatched the letter from his hands, “then go right ahead.”

The car was silent for a while until he broke in.

“I’m sorry Tel.”

“It’s fine.”

“So where are you going to go?”

“To the bar I guess.”

“Oh hell Nah. Get in your car and follow me. I’m not about to have my girl living out of no damn bar.”

I did as I was told. I had nothing else to do, there was nothing else I could do. I got into my car and we drove off into the night.

Chapter 9

His mom’s apartment was the same as I had remembered. It was cozy, and a little old fashioned. A feeling of relaxation was over the place, it was the perfect home to grow up in.

When we got to the house, Brenton grabbed my bags out of my car and brought them to his bedroom. He put them all at the foot of his bed, and went to run me a hot bubble bath. I soaked in it for a good forty five minutes. It felt amazing on my skin, and it was needed after the long day I had. I got out and through on one of Brenton’s big t-shirts, and some underwear then headed to the kitchen where he was talking on the phone with his mother.

He was perfect, the perfect man, the perfect friend, he had the perfect face, and he was my best friend. My heart swelled watching him walk around in boxers and talk on the phone like he was a little kid again. I checked the time and decided I should sleep, because it was six in the morning. I went to his bedroom and climbed under the covers. In an instant I was fast asleep.

I woke up at two o clock, to a snoring Brenton wrapped around me. I couldn’t wait to find that special guy who would be there to love and cherish me, and cuddle me while I slept. It made me smile knowing that he was there to comfort me when I needed him, but I couldn’t sleep, so I got up and flipped the T.V. on to the news.

What I saw next took my breath away. Rasheed’s mugshot! The news anchors rambled on about how he had been storing fifty kilos in his office. The bar was closed and I had gotten no warning. No one called me or texted me telling me I was out of a job or that my boss had drugs in the office that I used for a safe haven. It’s crazy how someone can be so genuine with you, and so upfront, that you never see the evils that they are hiding within them. I thought about where he could have hidden it, because I could have sworn I had been through every drawer in that office.

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