Real Wifeys: Get Money Page 6

  “Missy told me how she embarrassed some white dude at the car lot who thought she was broke. She bought it cash,” I said, as he parked at the corner in front of a hydrant and a handicap access.

  His security parked their blacked-out SUV in front of us damn near on the curb.

  I couldn’t do anything but shake my head as we climbed out the car. “I hope my Jag doesn’t get towed,” I said with a smile as he came around to step up on the curb and press a hand to my back as we walked up the street with the two security guards behind us.

  “Oh, you got jokes,” he said, fitting his oversize shades on his slender face.

  “No, I got the title,” I shot back, holding out my hand for the keys with one of my eyebrows arched.

  He slapped my ass as he dropped them into my hand.

  Make$ did everything in the last two weeks to get back in good with me. He was mad attentive. Flowers. Romantic dinners. Surprise gifts. QT out the ass. That nigga even made a song about me, begging my forgiveness and proclaiming his love. We just got back from a weekend trip to Antigua where he surprised me with the title to the Jag all signed, sealed, and delivered to me in a box with a new Tiffany diamond key chain.

  My wish was his command.

  I looked over at him as the entire line of clubgoers began to holler, reach for him, and snap pictures with their camera phones as we all entered the club. Did I still have my doubts? Damn straight. Was it possible that he caught the STD before me and didn’t know? My doctor said he could’ve been asymptomatic just like me and that it was possible. Did I love him? No question.

  We made our way to the VIP lounge upstairs. It took about ten minutes as he stopped to politic with everybody, my hand in his, right at his side. I spotted Goldie making her rounds looking hella cute in a bustier and ruffled ballerina skirt with sequined booties. We waved across the room and she motioned she would make her way to us soon.

  In the VIP, I was sipping on Goldie’s signature drink and dancing in front of where Make$ sat, knowing my ass was looking good. He stood up and pressed his body close to mine, bringing his tattooed hands up to press against my stomach. I felt his hard dick against my ass.

  “When you gone take that pussy off lockdown?” he asked in my ear as I continued to sip my drink and dip my ass against him.

  We hadn’t fucked since the STD bullshit came to light. Even after I finished my meds and the doctor gave me the all clear—along with a handful of condoms—I still didn’t give it up. The best he got was eating my pussy even though I made sure his ass went to the doctor and took his meds to clear his shit up too. Still, no haps on the sex . . . yet.

  I leaned my head back against his shoulder and brought my arms up to cup the back of his head. “Maybe tonight,” I said.

  “Maybe.” He balked.

  I laughed, enjoying teasing him as I stepped away from him and danced some more to some Rick Ross song that was playing. I looked down and spotted Goldie hugging a dude close, her body pressed to his like she was trying to blend into him. I eyed the tall fine dude. He had one of those athletic builds that made you think he could tear a pussy up. I did a little clap when I saw Goldie take his hand and lead him through the club and down the hall leading to the bathroom. She needed a man, because as far I knew, she wasn’t giving up the goodies. Fucking coochie cobwebs and shit. I hope he knocks the dust off it.

  “I’m going to the bathroom,” Make$ told me.

  I nodded and kept doing my thing, just enjoying the drinks, the music, and even Goldie having some of her best dancers performing in different spots around the club. I spotted Missy. I hadn’t really seen her since I stopped dancing. She looked the same with all her caramel cuteness, partying it up in a short sequined dress with a light-skinned girl with long reddish-brown hair and more hips than anything else on her body. I didn’t know the other chick, but I knew she was one of Goldie’s dancers. She had the look.

  Missy was so busy partying that she didn’t even see me motion to get her attention.

  “Motivation” by Kelly Rowland came on and I raised my hand to the air and worked my hips like I was still making money on the pole. I loved that song. It made me feel all sexy and shit. I loved it even more after she tore that shit up performing on the BET Awards last year.

  “I just want to feel your hands all over me ba-by,” I sang, rocking my wide hips back and forth in my Gucci heels just like she did on that stage.

  I looked down just as I spotted the tall sexy dude making his way through the club to post up at the bar. Shit. I shifted my eyes back to where he and Goldie had disappeared. I didn’t see her. Nosy as hell, I shifted my eyes back to the bar. My eyes widened to see Make$ brush the tall dude hard with his shoulder as he passed, and then he turned to mean-mug Old Boy over his shoulder. Huh?

  Make$ disappeared down the hall.

  Goldie never reappeared.

  Huh? Something ain’t right.

  I sat my drink down and made my way down the stairs quick as fuck. My mind was working overtime even as I pushed my way through the crowd. I finally made it to the hall. I looked and saw the signs for the restrooms.

  I paused.

  He did say he was going to the bathroom.

  I kept it moving and stormed into the men’s bathroom. There were plenty of men lined up at the urinals on the wall . . . but no Make$.

  “What you looking for . . . this?” a cute Puerto Rican man asked, turning with pee still dripping from the tip of his thick and long brown dick.

  I can’t front. That sight of that snake made me pause.

  He laughed.

  I left the men’s room, the door swinging closed behind me and causing air to breeze against the back of my legs. I looked up and down the hall. There wasn’t shit else back there but the ladies’ room and an emergency exit with a sign above it saying an alarm would ring if it was opened.

  I didn’t hear no fucking alarms.

  Not that kind anyway. These alarms sounding off were inside me and all about my woman’s intuition.

  I stepped over to the ladies’ room door and pushed it. It was locked. That shit made my heart race more. Something wasn’t right. Fuck the dumb shit.

  I walked back out the hall and snatched up the first waitress I saw. “Excuse me, do you have the key to the ladies’ room?” I asked, even as all my nerves were firing up until I felt like I could shit up my damn self. For real.

  “The manager has the key. It’s locked?” the woman asked, looking over my shoulder with a frown before she made a move to walk past me.

  I stepped in her path knowing she was gonna knock. I didn’t want that. I wanted that fucking door unlocked. ASAP. “I knocked already,” I lied. “I have to pee so bad, girl.”

  This bitch didn’t have no key, and all I needed was for her to get the motherfucker who did.

  “A’ight, I’ll be right back,” she said.

  Bitch, boo-bye. No offense to her but I was on a mission.

  Thankfully the club manager came just a few minutes later, keys in hand. “Sorry about this,” he said, his silk shirt soaked down in sweat under the arms.

  Whatever. OPEN THE DOOR!

  I gave him a tight smile as I bit the gloss from my lips as he slid the key in the lock. As soon as he pushed the door open I stepped up so close to him that my titties pressed against his sweaty back.

  My eyes got big as shit as I saw my man squatted down between Goldie’s legs eating her the fuck out while her scandalous ass was posted up on the nasty wet counter playing with her nipples and shit. Her skirt was up around her waist and her bustier down below her breasts. She grabbed the back of his head and worked her hips as THIS NIGGA started moaning.

  Shock and disbelief had me for a hot second. My friend and my man.

  “WHATTHEFUCK?” I shouted, seeing shades of red. Blood red. I felt nauseous.

  I pushed past the club manager and ran straight at the treacherous two with my fists already balled up and ready for some head action.

  “Oh sh
it,” Make$ swore. He jumped up and turned.

  I barely had time to take in his dick hard and pressing against his jeans. Ready to fuck. His chin and fucking mouth was still wet with her skanky pussy juices.

  Goldie tried to cover her exposed titties with her hands. I felt so much hate for this bitch. Even more than I had for Make$. I trusted this bitch. I TRUSTED this bitch!

  “You nasty, no-good bitch!” I screamed, my eyes taking in the money all over the floor and her thong bikini lying on top of it. What?! He was paying for the pussy?

  Goldie hopped off the counter, pulling up her bustier, just as I reached past Make$ and straight swung on that bitch hard as I could. My fist landed against her chin, knocking her head back, and I hoped I dislodged her dick-sucking jaw. Fucking bird-ass bitch. I’m calling this bitch to get the scoop on my nigga and she fucking him. SCANDALOUS!

  “And you’s a nasty lying-ass bitch,” Goldie screamed back before she swung back at me.

  Fuck it. We went at it with Make$ dead in the middle. Blow for blow. This bitch deserved to get her ass beat.

  WHAP. BA-DHAP. POW.

  Make$ put his hands up trying to stop us and blocked my blows, leaving me open for that bitch to slap and uppercut me. My face stung from her blows and I tried to jump over his short ass to straight deaden that bitch for putting her hands in my face like she was my pimp. Humph, she was the fucking whore.

  Make$ grabbed me around my waist and pushed me back as I wiped the little bit of blood she drew from my bottom lip. I wasn’t done with that bitch by any means.

  I looked out at the people crowded up outside the open bathroom door. Fucking great. Now the world knew my business. Shit. I could see that shit in all the blogs and press now with a headline just as scandalous as the shit going down. That pissed me off even more.

  “You ain’t shit, Goldie. I fucking trusted your ass. You knew I loved that nigga. You knew that shit and you steady fucking him behind my back. That’s dirty. You dirty.”

  I pointed my finger at her. Fighting back tears. I couldn’t believe this shit. What the fuck was the world coming to? Nobody was to be trusted? People didn’t give a shit about loyalty no more?

  My eyes shifted between the two of them as I shook my head feeling all kinds of fucked up by these scandalous, no-good trifling motherfuckers. I started pacing, trying to figure out a way to get at that bitch.

  Two big bouncers stepped through the crowd to stop into the bathroom.

  “This my party. I want her ass out of here,” Goldie said.

  I locked my eyes on Make$. What lies did he have for what the fuck I saw with my own eyes? What bullshit would he pull to make me feel better about this shit?

  “And the young lady threw the first punch,” the club manager said.

  I barely heard or saw anything around me. My focus was on my man. He couldn’t even look at me.

  One of the bouncers stepped toward me.

  “This is between me, the trick, and my no-good man. We got this. We don’t need y’all,” I said, nowhere near done with these two.

  “Come on, Luscious. Go on with that shit, man,” Make$ said, looking bored as he called somebody on his BlackBerry.

  That shit, that blasé shit from him, stung like a motherfucker. I stepped toward him, ready to slap that BlackBerry out his hand and then make him eat that motherfucker.

  One of the bouncers picked me up by my waist, causing my dress to rise up around my ass as he carried me out the bathroom leaving my man with his ho.

  Shit in my world changed in just that instant. Everything. These two motherfuckers were dead to me and I knew I was going to make them pay for this shit.

  “Fuck you, Goldie. Fuck both y’all scandalous-ass trife-life bitches,” I screamed over the bouncer’s shoulder. “The unjust don’t prosper, bitch.”

  The club manager closed the bathroom door, following the bouncers through the crowd as they carried me straight out that motherfucker like I wasn’t shit but a nuisance. Just as I saw Make$’s two bodyguards headed toward the bathroom.

  Fuck it.

  I pushed the bouncer off me as soon as he set me down on my Gucci feet outside the club. I stalked up the street, vaguely acknowledging that this was my second time getting booted out a fucking club. Ugh!

  I climbed into the Jag and started it. I couldn’t believe not only did Make$ get caught but his punk ass didn’t even come after me. That nigga was busted and embarrassed. Couldn’t even face me. Fuck him. I leaned back against the butter-soft leather headrest and closed my eyes as I waited for my heart to stop pounding.

  Tears welled up in my eyes but I blinked them away. Fuck crying. Fuck pity. Fuck it all.

  I started to call Eve, but she never really cared about Goldie and would be full of nothing but “I told you so.” Michel was away for the weekend with a part-time boo visiting from out of town. Wasn’t no need to ruin his weekend with my bullshit.

  I did call Missy though. Just what the fuck did she know and did I need to whup her ass too for not telling me? Her phone rang three times and went to voice mail. I skipped leaving a message and dialed her number again. And again.

  Maybe she couldn’t hear it ringing in the club.

  Maybe she didn’t have her phone on her.

  Maybe she was avoiding my call.

  I was about to call the bitch again when she called me.

  “Luscious! Oh my God, you and Goldie is wildin’ the fuck out,” she said, the sound of the party still going strong in the background.

  “No, that no-good, backstabbing bitch wildin’ out and she lucky her ass ain’t being carried out on a coroner’s stretcher,” I snapped back.

  “Damn, what happened?”

  I squinted my eyes as I held the BlackBerry with a death grip. “I caught her trifling ass in the bathroom with Make$—”

  “Oooh. So that shit is true?”

  “So I guess you didn’t know they was fucking. Right?” I asked, my heart pounding with adrenaline.

  “No I didn’t. For real. That’s pretty fucked up.”

  I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead. “Ain’t shit pretty about it,” I said, not even sure I believed her.

  “Well, she just hired me to go on tour with them. . . . I guess she’s fucked that up.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Missy, no offense, but I really don’t give a fuck,” I snapped.

  “I’m just being honest, Luscious. Shit. That was good money I could use,” Missy shot right back at me. “Plus I didn’t even think Goldie would ever pull no shit like this. She’s always about her business.”

  “I know what I saw.”

  “So I heard.”

  Embarrassing. “Missy. Let me call you back.”

  I hung up before she could say another word. She wasn’t offering me any new info. Either she was blind to the fact or keeping herself out of the bullshit.

  My BlackBerry sounded again. I looked at it. Make$. I sent his ass straight to voice mail and wished I could send him straight to hell. Turning the phone off I tossed it onto the passenger seat and steered the Jag away from the curb. I had just pulled to a red light at the corner when I spotted the tall dude from the club. The one I saw Goldie hugging. He was walking up the street with his hands pushed deep inside the pockets of his jeans and his head down. He looked over at my vehicle as he continued up the street.

  Whoa.

  He was fine. That tall, dark and fine swagger with the lean features, high cheekbones, and slanted eyes. Dressed casual but stylish. None of that metallic eagle bullshit on the front of his tee or overembellished designs on the pockets of his jeans. He was young and fine, with that hip-hop swagger but grown-man style. The combo was good. Damn good.

  I squinted my eyes as I watched him. Something was nipping at me. Add some dreads and was this . . .

  I eased from the light and lowered the passenger window as I slowed down to turn the corner behind him. “Has?” I called out, taking a chance.

  He made a face as he stopped to bend
down to look inside my car. “I know you?” he asked, his voice deep with that East Coast inflection.

  I stopped the car in the middle of the street and put it in park before I climbed out and smoothed my dress over my hips as I made my way around the car and up on the sidewalk. His eyes took me all in as Goldie’s words about him came back to me.

  “I just know that nigga can do a serious fuckdown. He walk like he gotta keep his thighs open ’cause his dick swinging. You know? One of them dangerous dicks.”

  Just what I needed to get back at Make$ and Goldie.

  “You ’bout to rob me?” Has asked, smiling and showing white, even teeth.

  The dumb bitch didn’t go for that dangerous dick but she fucked my little-dick man. And yes, the dick was little. I didn’t give a fuck before. But now? Humph. Hey, love glossed over shit, and hate kept everything real as hell.

  “I saw you in the club with Goldie,” I said, putting my full flirt on. “Y’all friends?”

  Has’s face got hard like the mention of her name pissed him off. “Nah, not really,” he said.

  I nodded, letting my eyes take him all in. Letting my pain guide my actions. I extended my hand to him. “I’m Luscious,” I said. “Goldie mentioned you before. I wanted to meet you and introduce myself and bask in all this fineness you got going on.”

  His licked his lips as he looked down at me, his broad shoulders shadowing me from the street light above. “So you and Goldie friends?” he asked, reaching in his back pocket to pull out a prerolled blunt.

  I licked my lips and watched as he lit it and took a big toke. “She was,” I said, stepping up to cup my hands over his mouth and then press my mouth to the other ends of my hands, making a tunnel.

  His sexy slanted eyes locked with my brown eyes as he followed my lead and blew a stream of thick smoke into my hands for me to inhale into my lungs. I winked at him before I tilted my head and blew the stream of smoke up to the night sky in a rush.

  His eyes were locked on my mouth as he pressed the blunt back between his lips. “What happened with you and Goldie?” he asked.

  I licked my lips as I took the blunt from him, careful not to burn my acrylic tips. “I walked in the bathroom a few minutes ago and caught her fucking my man,” I said, all easy and shit like that shit wasn’t totally fucked up. Like it didn’t wreck my world and shatter my heart. Like I wasn’t ready to crawl into my bed and cry like a hungry baby.