A Day in the Life (6 page)

3

Don't know why I came in this club with you, girl…

Don't know why I came in with these diamonds on my chain…

Surrounded by bad bitches I can't get 'em out my face…

Maybe ‘cuz a nigga handsome and wealthy…

Is it ‘cuz a nigga cook like a professor…?

I don't know how you feel can you tell me…

I won't know how you feel 'til you tell me…

Is it ‘cuz a nigga handsome and wealthy…?

Romeo and his boy Desmond held shit down from the VIP section like the young bosses they were. Popping champagne bottles, and smoking the finest skunk they were mistakenly assumed to be local celebrities.

The small section was crowded with a plethora of beautiful women from every shade and nationality. There were enough females for every nigga in VIP to have three—and that was only if Romeo was willing to share.

Drawing the most attention to himself, the young show boater was draped in several expensive yellow canary diamond chains. A $720 Vivienne Westwood button down hugged his chiseled torso. Black designer jeans hung casually off his waist, and on his size twelve feet was a pair of matte black Giuseppes.

Two beautiful women sat on either side of him, each vying for a place in his life—no matter how insignificant. Sexy, wealthy and new to the city, Romeo was fresh meat to the vultures looking for a baller. And even though he knew their motives, Romeo still loved the attention. Twenty-five without a care in the world, he didn’t plan on settling down anytime soon.

Much like his homie, Desmond Wright was also quite the exhibitionist. Sporting a crisp white V-neck, white jeans, and white and black python high tops, he oozed a million dollars. Around his tattooed neck was over two hundred grand in jewelry easily, and his wrist sparkled with a new shiny Rolex.

Entrepreneurs in their own right, Romeo and Desmond loved to flaunt their wealth. Born and raised in poverty, it felt good to wake up every morning without a financial care in the world.

Growing up, all they’d ever known was the grisly streets of Compton. Banging and selling drugs was their life until they finally made a come up some four years ago; one that changed their lives forever.

Pink Dragon was currently the hottest marijuana on the market. Frosted in a fuschia-colored substance, it contained one of the strongest strains known to man. Rappers talked about it in their songs, and all the A-listers back in Hollywood were familiar.

Media quickly labeled their weed as the most potent, and just like that Romeo and Desmond became overnight celebrities. However, they couldn’t take all the credit for their speedy rise to success. Truth be told, their achievement wouldn’t even be possible if it wasn’t for Ava—the third wheel in the trio.

Posted next to Desmond in a black Herve Leger dress, no one would’ve ever thought Ava would be mixed in with such a business. Half-Alaskan and half-Polynesian, the 5”6 bombshell was breathtaking at first glance.

Long, wavy jet black hair flowed freely down Ava’s back and stopped just inches above her curvy ass. Her tight, slanted eyes were hazel, and she had the cutest pair of dimples. Her athletic body and pretty smile were just the added bonuses.

Though Ava had the whole package—money, intelligence, and good looks, her love life was deplorable. Since a teenager, she’d always had a poor sense of judgment when it came to men—and because of that she rarely dated nowadays.  

It was a man who’d convinced her to move to the states in the first place. Kent Summers—a wealthy real estate tycoon—had promised Ava the world and more after swearing to divorce his wife of ten years.

He’d met the exotic beauty while on vacation, and just couldn’t ignore his attraction. In the beginning, Kent spoiled with her luxuries, and talked a good game. But like they say; if something seems too good to be true it probably is.

Ava dropped everything to move to Hollywood to be with him. Yet when she got there it was a whole other story. Apparently, Kent was in too deep since his wife hadn’t signed a prenuptial. The last thing he wanted to do was give away half his estate so he stayed begrudgingly, breaking Ava’s heart in the process. 

On her own with nothing but a Visa waiver, Ava hotel-hopped until the day she met Romeo and Desmond. At the time, they’d been trying their hardest to develop a strain so potent it put white widow to shame. Ironically, Ava had majored in botany, and the rest was history.

Ava didn’t look like she was having anywhere near as much fun as Romeo and Desmond. Truthfully, she didn’t care for the large crowds, but she knew keeping up their image was important—especially in their profession. Besides, they’d just moved to Atlanta from L.A. two days ago so naturally they wanted to see what the night life was hitting on.

An increase in demand had led the trio to the Peach State to begin with. Although Romeo and Desmond loved relocating, Ava could take it or leave it. ATL wasn’t really her cup of tea. She missed the beaches and the smell of saltwater. But instead of pouting about, she rolled with the punches for the sake of a paycheck.

Twelve people deep, Romeo and Desmond’s camp was relatively small, but they didn’t mind. In the words of Jay-Z, ‘less was more’. In a game where greed could make the most loyal person turn, they could only afford to fuck with their day-ones.

The small posse was the rowdiest in the club, yet management wouldn’t dare put a stop to it—especially not after Romeo had brought out the entire bar. As usual, money spoke volumes.

Meanwhile downstairs, Kimberlyn and Shayla shuffled through the thick crowd of club-goers in an attempt to find an empty space. Compound was overly packed that evening for the Atlanta Falcons after party. But surprisingly, it wasn’t their section that was garnering the most attention that night. The two Cali boys undoubtedly had the place on lock.

In the midst of heading towards the bar, Kim looked over at the noisy VIP section. Pungent smoke clouds hung in the air, bottles were popping, and everybody looked like they were having a good old time.

“Hold up,” Kimberlyn said, stopping dead in her tracks. “Is that him? Nah, it can’t be…”

Shayla was so caught off guard by her friend’s abrupt stop that she bumped into the back of her. Luckily, she had an impeccable balance in her six-inch heels. “What? Who is it?” Shayla asked, clearly confused.

Kimberlyn didn’t even bother responding as she grabbed Shayla’s hand and headed over to VIP.

4

“Wait, where are we going?” Shayla asked.

The moment she saw Romeo, she felt a faint flush of color rise in her face. Naturally, Shayla wasn’t all too pleased with the sight of him surrounded by beautiful women. So that’s why he didn’t hit me up…If her pride wasn’t wounded before, it certainly was now.

Shayla tried her best to hold onto her confidence, especially after it was diminished by Dexter. But she’d be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t somewhat bothered. This is why I never get my hopes too high when it comes to dating, she thought.

“I don’t feel like going over there,” Shayla said. 

Irritated by her friend’s usual ‘stick-in-the-mud’ personality, Kim turned on her heel and faced Shayla. “And why not?” she asked, hands on hips.

Shayla didn’t feel comfortable telling Kim that it was because of Romeo, so she blamed it on something else. “It’s already too many chicks over there…”

Kimberlyn burst out laughing hysterically. “Bitch, them insignificant ass hoes ain’t got shit on us!” she said. “Please don’t tell me that’s the issue. Because it’s certainly not for me.”

Had Kim brought her girl Nina instead of Shayla, she would never be having that conversation. Nina was down for whatever whereas Shayla was timid when it came to certain shit. However, Kim was determined to break her out of that. Damn, Shay could be such a bore sometimes.

“Come on. You tripping,” Kim said, leading a reluctant Shayla to the VIP.

Ever the passive type, Shayla hesitantly followed behind her friend.

Kim was right about one thing though. The moment they barged into the paid-for section, all attention immediately went to them. Shayla’s stomach flip-flopped nervously as she tried her best to cover her exposed bosom. She felt extremely underdressed in the pink cutout dress Kim had brought for her to wear.

I don’t know why I let this broad talk me into coming here, Shayla thought.

Kimberlyn looked overly provocative in a pair of skin tight leather shorts and a denim bustier. With her size D’s spilling over, it was obvious that she was looking to get the attention of every man in the place. Cool would have a fit if he wasn’t locked up. Shayla, on the other hand, was a bit more modest. 

Kimberlyn had no qualms about interrupting his conversation with a groupie. “Desmond?” she asked, somewhat in disbelief. For a second, she thought her eyes were deceiving her.

The ghetto bird he was speaking with instantly rolled her eyes in disgust. She’d been trying to snag the baller all night before Kim showed up unwelcomed. Cheap bitch, she thought, eyeing Kimberlyn’s tasteless outfit. She wasn’t wearing anything designer, and yet she had the nerve to barge in their VIP.

“Kimberlyn…?” Desmond said, equally taken back.

Shayla looked from Desmond to Kimberlyn and instantly wondered about their history. Kim had never mentioned him in the three years they’d been friends.

“Damn, girl. Shit, how long has it been?” Desmond asked, walking over to her.

“Too long,” Kimberlyn said, leaning in for a hug.

Desmond wrapped his strong arms around Kimberlyn and held her tightly. His expensive cologne surrounded the two women, and his sex appeal was undeniable. Even Shayla had to keep from staring a bit too hard.

Caramel complexion, mahogany-colored eyes, and an athletic build, Desmond was the epitome of a pretty boy who was slightly rough around the edges.

Years ago, before he and Romeo made their come up, they’d visited Atlanta with some friends. It was then that Desmond met Kimberlyn while she was dancing at Blue Flame. The two hit it off instantly, and Desmond even delayed his flight an extra two weeks. Yet all good things eventually come to an end. With a two-year old daughter back home, Desmond had no choice but to return to the real world. Reluctantly, he went back to Cali to be with his baby mama, and Kimberlyn went on to meet Cool.

Although Desmond and Kim’s rendezvous only lasted a few weeks, she still held a special place in his heart, and vice-versa.

After embracing each other for what felt like an eternity, Desmond finally pulled apart and looked Kim over “You just as untouchable as I remember,” he complimented.

That immediately caused Kimberlyn to blush.

Behind him, Ava shuffled in her seat as if she were uncomfortable, but no one seemed to notice.

The female Desmond was previously entertaining didn’t find anything flattering about his comment. Actually, she was quite offended. “Are you kidding me?” she finally spoke up. “Untouchable? Nigga, your standards must not be that high…”

Kimberlyn was just about to give it to her ass, but Desmond quickly beat her to the punch. “You right,” he agreed. “Monte, get this bitch up outta here, homie.”

Before she could oppose, Romeo and Desmond’s 6”5 enforcer grabbed her by the arm. “Don’t touch me!” she snapped, snatching away. “I can leave by myself. I don’t need help.” Grabbing her clutch off the nearby leather sofa, she quickly left the VIP section—but not before flipping off Desmond.

“Anyway…I see you still attracted to the same type of bitches,” Kimberlyn laughed. “And speaking of bitches how’s your baby mama?”

Desmond gave her a knowing look before plopping down on the sofa. In front of him was a table filled with a variety of bottles and champagnes for the ladies “Shit, same. Crazy as all hell,” he told her. “We ain’t rockin’ like that no more…”

              “Is that right?” Kim asked, joining him. She then helped herself to a glass of champagne.

              Desmond couldn’t help but to admire her boldness. Honestly, it was one of his favorite qualities about her.

              Meanwhile, across from him, Romeo couldn’t stop gawking at Shayla. This time around she didn’t have her glasses on, and she looked stunning in her club wear.

              Damn, she bad as hell, Romeo thought to himself.

              Even though he’d gotten her number earlier, he had no real intentions on ever using it. Sometimes he did shit just to know he could—like getting the digits. Truth be told, Shayla seemed like too much of a square for his standards. And judging from her standoffish attitude, he could see he wasn’t too far off.

              Feeling as though Romeo was giving too much attention to Shayla, the female to his right quickly stood to her feet and left. She figured she was far too classy to be kicked out like her predecessor, so she departed quietly and willingly. 

              Romeo didn’t even bother stopping her as he continued to stare down Shayla. She was trying her hardest to pretend she didn’t see him as she stood next to Kimberlyn. He actually found her demeanor to be quite cute.

              Normally, Romeo didn’t go for the good girl type, but there was something about Shayla that drew him to her.

              The minute they finally made eye contact, Romeo beckoned her to join him.

              Standing idly by—while looking extremely out of place—Shayla deliberated on whether or not she should. She already wasn’t feeling the groupies surrounding him. And she’d never been one to fight for attention…or over a man for that matter. 

              Quit playing. You know you want to, her conscience whispered.

              Pushing her pride to the side, Shayla slowly made her way over towards him and sat down. Almost instantly the tension in the air thickened between the competitions.

              “What’s up with you? Why you standin’ there lookin’ all mean and shit? I know that ain’t you,” Romeo said, playfully nudging her.

              Shayla shrugged her shoulders, too nervous to make eye contact. “Clubs aren’t really my scene,” she told him.

              “Oh yeah?” Romeo’s eyes shifted from her pretty face down to her thick chocolate legs. He didn’t see how a woman so gorgeous could be so timid. But Romeo was determined to break her out of her shell. “Well, loosen up a bit. Have a drink, and lemme help make it ya scene.”

              In silence, Shayla watched as he poured her a generous shot of vodka. If she didn’t know any better she’d think he was purposely trying to get her loose. If I tell him I don’t drink, he’s probably gon’ think I’m whack, she thought.

              Keeping that bit of info to herself, Shayla hesitantly accepted the drink.

              “Those shoes on fleek, boo,” Ava said, peeping her heel game. Unlike the rest of the herd, she was openly friendly.

              “Thanks,” Shayla muttered, taking a tiny sip of her beverage. The Giuseppes on her feet were two years old and a gift from Dexter. And had it not been for their value, they would’ve gone in the trash like most of the other gifts he’d gotten her.

              At that point, Shayla had Romeo’s undivided attention. With liquor, marijuana, and a half a pill coursing through his veins, he was definitely on one that evening.

              Eyes glassy and intentions set, Romeo leaned close to Shayla’s ear. “What’chu gettin’ into after you leave here?” he asked.

              Romeo’s warm, liquor-scented breath caused the tiny hairs on the back of Shayla’s neck to stand. Damn, why does he have to be so irresistible, she asked herself.

              “Not sure. I guess whatever my girl decides. I’m riding with her,” Shayla explained.

              “Shit, it looks like ol’ girl preoccupied with my boy,” Romeo said. “You may as well slide with me. I’ll take you wherever you gotta go in da mornin’.”

              “Um…I don’t know…,” Shayla hesitated. As usual, her guard was up, but for good enough reason.

              “What’chu mean you don’t know?” Romeo asked, somewhat offended that she was playing hard to get. In his world, bitches came as frequently as the money so he’d never had difficulty getting laid.

This chick trippin’, he thought to himself. Hell, I got three bad ass females waiting to do whatever the kid asks. And this chick’s giving me the third degree like I’m some bum ass nigga.

              “I just don’t know,” Shayla said, finally turning to face him. “I barely know you.”

              “Hell, we can get to know each other. Right after we christen that new bed,” he added.

              “Excuse me?” Shayla asked in disgust. She totally wasn’t expecting Romeo’s forwardness, and it was a complete turn off. What a fucking pig.

              Before he could respond, Shayla quickly stood to her feet and walked off.

              “Where you going, Shay?” Kim called out after her.

              Shayla ignored her friend as she headed towards the exit. This is why I don’t fuck with these scenes, she thought. Every nigga in Atlanta feels like he’s entitled to talk and treat women however they want just because they’re the minority. Damn that.

              Shayla didn’t even bother looking behind her to see if Kim was following. All she wanted to do was put as much distance as she could between her and Romeo.

              Just as Shayla was walking out, one of the doormen quickly stopped her. “Excuse me, baby girl. You can’t go outside with that.”

              Shayla looked down and realized she was holding the shot glass Romeo had given her. Without hesitation, she downed the liquor before passing the glass to the doorman. He had no opposition as he stepped to the side, allowing her to leave.

              Once outside, Shayla ran a hand through her wand curled hair. That night was her first time hitting the club scene since her breakup with Dexter. Unfortunately, her evening didn’t end anywhere near how she’d imagined.

              At twenty-five, Shayla lived a pretty contained life. Coming from an upper-middleclass family, she’d been spoiled and sheltered most of her life. Oftentimes Kimberlyn teased her by calling her grandma, but she didn’t mind.

              All of a sudden, Shayla regretted her choice to down the liquor. Because she didn’t drink, she felt the effects almost immediately. Trying her best to keep from stumbling in her heels, she looked out for a cab but didn’t see one.

Though she was only five minutes from Midtown, the last thing Shayla wanted to do was hike on foot in her Giuseppes. Where the hell is Kimberlyn, she wondered. A part of her was certain her best friend would come running to see what was up but apparently not.

Obviously, that nigga has her undivided attention, Shayla concluded. It usually wasn’t like Kim to put a guy over her friends. However, Desmond wasn’t just any guy.

A tiny sliver of discouragement crept into Shayla’s heart before she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Why you walk out like dat?”

As soon as she turned around, Shayla frowned at the unwanted sight of Romeo. She half-expected to see Kimberlyn, and her hopes were instantly crushed.

“Why do you think?” Shayla snapped. “Excuse my French but you’re a real asshole. It’s obvious you don’t know how to talk to or treat women.”

Romeo didn’t respond immediately. Maybe she’s right. For the majority of his life he was used to dealing with hoes, groupies, and gold diggers. He’d never been in a seriously committed relationship before and had no real aspirations on doing so.

Women threw themselves at Romeo on a daily basis, and because of that he spoke to and treated them however he pleased. None had ever checked him about his doggish ways; none except Shayla.