Tiffany and Dior: Love in Las Vegas Streets (11 page)

BOOK: Tiffany and Dior: Love in Las Vegas Streets
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   Once Black gave me the okay to leave his side, I made my way around the club to where Paige was sitting next to Rasheed and Dior’s little sister Kia. I sat down next to Paige, who was too busy grinding to the music that was blasting loudly throughout the speakers in the club.

    “Hey, Kia, what you been up to?” I said to her, making small talk as I looked around the club for Dior, who had disappeared.

    “Hey, Tiffany, it's been years since I last saw you. I am so sorry for your loss. How's baby Mason ? I'm sure he's not a baby anymore.”

    “Thank you and Mason is good. Spoiled, but I love him to death,” I said to Kia as I pulled my iPhone out of my clutch, showing her a picture of Mason that happened to be my screensaver.

   “Well, he got so big. How old is he now?”

   “He's seven years old.”

   “Awww, so now that Dior is back home…” Kia paused.

   “Dior is home and we are taking things slow. Besides, I have a man,” I stated confidently.

   “Hhmm, that same man who's leaving the club with that female?” Kia pointed at the front entrance of the club, where Black was exiting with Fawn.

   “I'm not worried about her; she's like family.” I stared in the direction where I saw Black as he made his way out of the club with his arm wrapped around Fawn’s tiny waist. From afar you would have thought Fawn was his woman the way he was smiling and introducing her to everyone who greeted them. Seeing that, I instantly got jealous. Black was very flirtatious and affectionate towards other females when he was out in public. It seemed like he was a complete different person when he was out and about.

   “Tiffany, my brother really loves you. When your family died and your house burned down, Dior was calling the house everyday. He wrote so many letters and at every visit he would always ask about you. We thought you were dead until Paige told us you were safe. I think you guys should get back together.”

“ Kia, what's been going on with you ?” I asked trying to change the subject.

“ Tiffany, I am finally eighteen but not to my brothers. They still treat me like I am a little ass girl,” Kia shook her head. “ I have been talking to this guy for the past few weeks when I was leaving the studio recording some music and let's just say he's amazing. He really support and believe in me. He came out to my first show a few weeks ago. He buys me anything I want so I haven't needed Rasheed or Dior. Tiffany, he's so romantic but straight hood.”

“ Wow, that's good. You really look happy. Who's the lucky guy?”

“ Don't say anything to any of my brothers because they hate when I mess around with hustlers especially Las Vegas hustlers but his name is Landon. He's the king of the west coast. He's suppose to meet me here but he hasn't responded to my text all day. That's not like him but I'm sure it's nothing.” Kia pulled out her iPhone checking to if she had any missed calls or text. I could see the hurt and disappointment on her face.

  Before I could even respond, Dior and Rasheed walked up to the booth.

   “I see your mans left the club. You should come take a ride with me,” Dior whispered into my ear.

   “I don't know, Dior. I'm supposed to be getting some food with Paige and going home afterwards.”

   “I'm good, Tiffany. You can go with Dior. I’m staying right here with Rasheed,” Paige said with a devilish grin plastered on her face. I rolled my eyes at her. I couldn't believe she had thrown me under the bus like that.

   “A’ight, come with me. I will take you to get some thing to eat and I promise to take you straight home. I just want to talk to you, that's all.”

   “Okay, Dior,” I said to him as I stood up from the booth. I turned around to say goodbye to Kia, who was smiling from ear to ear. “Bye, girl!” I giggled.

   “Think about what I said, Tiffany. Plus, I miss you, girl!” Kia gave me a tight hug.

   “Girl, please call me as soon as you get home. I don't need Black knocking at my door looking for you,” Paige stated as she stood up to embrace me with a tight hug.

   “Don't worry, we just getting something to eat and then he's taking me home,” I said to Paige.

   “Yeah right, girl, you about to get some good ol’ jail dick.” Paige busted into laughter.

   “Girl, please, what do you mean jail dick?”

   “Tiffany, Dior just came home and the way he’s looking at you… He is about to give you more than a ride to get something to eat. He about to give you that daddy dick.”

   “Paige, I will call you when I get home.”

   “I love you, best friend, and okay, I will. Call me as soon as you get home.”

   “I love you too, best friend,” I said to Paige, giving her another tight hug before walking off to meet Dior, who was standing next to the bouncer by the main entrance of club.

   “Ma, meet me a few blocks down the street,” Dior said to me before walking off.

   “Okay, baby.”

     When I exited the club, I walked a few blocks down Las Vegas strip to meet Dior, who was sitting inside of his car blasting the latest trap music. After looking around I got inside of Dior’s all-white Maserati and we pulled off. Ten minutes later we were pulling into The Grand Lux café. Dior turned off the car before getting out and making his way over to the passenger’s side to open the door for me.

   “Thank you,” I said to him as I stared into his eyes. Dior was so damn sexy and I honestly wanted to strip him out of his clothes right there in the parking lot. I couldn't believe I was actually in his presence after so many years.

       Dior held open the door, allowing me to walk inside first. I was nervous as I looked around the restaurant. Black had eyes everywhere and I couldn't risk anyone who knew Black seeing me.

    It was almost two in the morning and it was packed.

   “Hello, my name is Jasmine and I will be your hostess tonight,” a bubbly waitress dressed in a black V-neck t-shirt, black pants, and black apron asked. “Please follow me.” Jasmine smiled as she grabbed two menus before making her way around the booth. We both nodded our heads, letting her know we understood as we followed closely behind her through the crowded restaurant.

   “Thank you, Jasmine.” I smiled, taking a seat at the table. I was so relieved that she gave us a table in the back because where we were situated I could see who entered and who left the restaurant.

   “You’re welcome. May I start you guys off with some drinks?” she asked.

   The Grand Lux café wasn’t one of my favorite places to eat. However, at two in the morning this was the only place that was open in the area. I quickly scanned over their menu.

   “Umm, I would like a pink lemonade, and can you put extra lemons on the side? Thanks!”

   “Okay, and you, sir?” She looked over at Dior, who was busy texting someone on his phone. I started to get an attitude but I quickly had to remind myself that he wasn't my man.

   “You can bring me out a bottled water and Sprite, please. I’m also ready to order. I'll have chicken and waffles. Also tell the chef to fry my chicken hard,” Dior said to the waitress.

   “I will have the same.” I looked at him and then at her. She took our menus and disappeared. A few minutes later she was back with our drinks.

   “So baby girl, how you been ?” Dior asked.

   “I've been good. Mason is good. He's getting big. He will be eight years old in a few months.”

   “Wow, damn, I gotta see little man. It's been a minute. He probably tall like his father Orlando.” Dior looked over at me for confirmation.

   “Yes, Mason is tall for his age. However, he acts like a spoiled brat. But, I love him.” I smiled, thinking about Mason. Over the years, we’d built a relationship as if he was my very own son. At times he acted like the little brother I never had. Every night before I went to bed I would make sure I cuddled with Mason and watched cartoons. I would use that time to talk to him. Mason was really a happy kid. It was crazy how he remembered my sister; he just forgot what she looked like. I made sure I always talked about my mother and my sisters with Mason. All I had was memories because all of the pictures I did have got burned in the fire.

      Interrupting my thoughts, Jasmine returned with our food. Everything looked delicious, I thought to myself as I poured the syrup over my waffles and took a bite of the fried chicken. I normally couldn't eat food like this because Black never allowed us to eat fried foods, but tonight I was going to indulge. I ended up ordering a strawberry cheesecake too.

   “Damn, baby girl, you enjoying your food.” Dior laughed.

   “Shut up, Dior! Black doesn't allow me to eat fried foods or sugary foods,” I blurted out loud.

   “What you mean he doesn't allow you?” Dior said sternly.

   “I mean, we just eat really healthy,” I said nervously.

   “Ma, you not no prisoner. You should be allowed to eat whatever you want and by the way your body looking, you can eat whatever you like.” Dior smirked.

   “Anyways, Dior, what have you leaned from being incarcerated all these years?” I asked, changing the subject.

   “To be honest ma, when I got reinserted back into society, I learned a lot. I would never let a man ever have control over me. I respect everybody unless I feel disrespected. I am a street nigga. I tell you no lie. I'm the type of nigga to say what I mean and mean what I say. I love the streets, ma, and I am never going back to jail. I hated that shit, ma. Niggas telling me when I can eat, take a shit, and when to get up and lay down.” Dior paused, shaking his head. “ Baby girl, what you been up to since I been away? I really did miss you inside of there. I was going crazy. I thought you were dead.”

   “To be honest, I wish I had died in the fire because I miss my mother and sisters so bad,” I said to him as tears ran marathons down my cheeks. Dior stood up and walked over to my side of the table, wiping away my tears with his soft fingers. He held my chin in the palm of his hand before kissing my lips. When he kissed me, it was almost as if he took my breath away. I sat there speechless. Black never kissed me and when he did it was a peck on the lips as if he was forced to do it. The way his lips connected with mine, I couldn't help but get wet.

   “Damn ma, you beautiful,” Dior whispered into my ear as he placed his hand underneath the table, rubbing on my inner thighs. “Tiffany, I really do love you and I don’t want this night to end,” Dior said as he stared into my eyes.

   “Thank you. You’re beautiful,” I answered, causing us both to bust out into laughter. I hate giving guys complements; it just seems like there aren't the right word to describe them.

   “So, Dior, why did you get arrested that day?” I asked as I gulped down the rest of my drink.

“ Baby girl, I was a young nigga. I made a lot of mistakes and that day was one of them. I did three years and two months for good behavior. With the charges I got that day, I should still be in jail. But no worries, ma. I am good now. The streets is mine and I am the king of the West Coast. When you with me, baby girl, you will never have to worry. I got a dope ass connect and he's like a ghost out here in the streets of Las Vegas,” Dior said with much more bass in his voice.

     Before I could reply, our waitress returned to the table with a small black folder with the bill hanging from it. “Did you guys enjoy your meals?” she asked as she looked at me and then Dior.

   “Yes,” Dior and I said in unison.

   “Great, I hope you guys come back again. I'm sorry to inform you but our restaurant will be closing in twenty minutes. I brought the bill out, but is there anything else you want to order?”

   “No,” I answered and Dior took the bill, handing her a crispy one-hundred-dollar bill.

   “Keep the change.” Dior smiled before standing up from the table. At that very moment I gained a certain type of respect for Dior. It wasn't the fact he gave the girl such a big tip, but the fact he was confident and a gentleman. He was hood as hell. Eating chicken with his hands and mixing lean and Sprite at the table, I still wanted to fuck with him.

      Dior was real about himself. He let me know that he was always going to be a street nigga. He loved selling drugs and making money. He served his time, which he failed to explain why he got locked up, but I hoped one day he’d find it in his heart to tell me, because when I asked he got quiet. Nonetheless, I felt safe being around Dior. He made me feel so comfortable and free. He made me smile for no reason. I admit I would stare at him when he wasn't looking, just so I could hold onto the image of his face when he was not with me.

“ Ma, can I have my face back? You've been staring at me all night,” Dior stated covering his face so I wouldn't see him blushing.

      I know you probably think I am crazy, but I am crazy in love. I have known Dior my whole life. I was in love with him then and out of nowhere those same feelings came back. As we were making our way back to his car, Dior had his arm around my waist the whole time. He opened the passenger’s side door and I got in. I blew heavy clouds of weed smoke into the air while we cruised down South Las Vegas Boulevard with Dior in the driver’s seat blasting trap music out of the speakers of the all-white Maserati. Ever since that night I saw him we spent the next couple of weeks fucking, smoking weed, and chilling as if I didn’t have a man at home.

BOOK: Tiffany and Dior: Love in Las Vegas Streets
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