Booty Call *69 (12 page)

Damn, why did my aunt wait so late to tell me she had tickets for this event? Now I have to run around and get things done like a chicken with its head cut off.

I can ask my moms for some doe; Danny’s always giving her
money, or I can ask Danny myself. I know he’s here; I saw his truck parked outside. I know Tyrone could front me the cash, but I think about how long it might take him to get over here. Besides, I really don’t feel like seeing him; he might try to mess up my plans.

While taking a quick shower, I think about my options. I decide to ask Danny for the money. I step out of the shower and wrap a small towel around myself. I walk into the living room, still glistening, with my hair still wet. I remember Jakim once told me that a female looks her best when taking a shower, and coming out with the water still trickling down her skin. Watching me bathe used to turn him on. We’d fuck on the bathroom floor afterward.

I want to see if my being wet and coming out of the shower will have the same effect on Danny as it did on Jakim. He’s on the couch watching TV. I go and stand directly in front of him.

“Where’s my mother?” I ask as his eyes study every inch of my body.

“She’s in the bedroom,” he says in his sexy voice. I walk to my mother’s bedroom. I carefully peek inside and see that she’s asleep. I smile and quietly shut the door back. I look back at Danny. His eyes never left my body. He plays it cool, though.

“Danny, I need a big favor from you,” I soothingly say.

“What is it, baby girl?”

I take a seat next to him on the couch in my short, wet towel, which stops at mid thigh. I place my hand on his lap and gaze into his eyes. “I need to borrow three hundred dollars,” I say.

“That’s a small favor here,” he replies. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wad of hundreds. I try to keep cool, but being next to him
with all that money in his hand, combined with him looking so good, nearly makes me lose control and jump on his dick. I want to take him into my mouth and suck his dick so good that he’ll forget about my mother and work his miracles on me. I want to drop this towel to the floor and show him how young and lovely my body is. The sight of my naked body does wonders for all of my old boyfriends; they never got tired of it. I only got tired of them.

“Here you go, baby girl,” he says, handing me four hundred-dollar bills. “Here’s an extra hundred just in case.”

God, I hate my mother for having such a wonderful and fine man. He could hit this morning, noon
and
night! I give him a quick kiss on the cheek and get up from the couch. As I slowly stroll down the hallway to my bedroom, I do the craziest thing: I drop my towel down to the floor, giving Danny a clear glimpse of me from the back—butt naked. I bend over to pick up the towel with my legs parted slightly and retreat to my bedroom. I don’t even turn around to see his reaction; I already know what it is.

Who needs a job? I’m getting dollars from the fellas left and right. I throw on my blue Guess jeans, my blue and gray Georgetown sweater and my fresh, new, beige Timberlands. I pull my hair up in a ponytail and put on a little lip gloss. I call Naja to see if she wants to go out to the mall to do a little Saturday afternoon shopping. She doesn’t pick up her cell phone. Then I call Tyrone, but he’s not home. I page him, but he doesn’t get back to me.

The doorbell rings at twelve-thirty. It’s Jakim. I’ve totally forgotten about promising that I’d go down to the studio with him and chill for the day; I’ve been so excited about the party tonight. “You ready to go?” he asks standing in the front doorway.

“Shit, Jakim…I forgot about this afternoon,” I tell him, feeling
badly about it.

“What you mean you forgot about this afternoon? I just spoke to you about it two hours ago!” He’s pissed.

“Yeah, but something came up.”

“Like what?”

I turn around and see that Danny is all up in our business, so I calmly step outside and shut the door.

“Look, Jakim, I promised my Aunt that I would help her with something today. She reminded me about it right after I hung up with you.”

“That’s some cold shit, Shana. You got me all excited about spending the day with you, and now you wanna blow me off to go and hang out with your aunt?”

“It ain’t even like that, Jakim.”

“Why are you doing this to me? Why are you playin’ me?”

“I’m not doing this on purpose,” I tell him. Then it came to me. Jakim could take me shopping. I know he wants to go down to the studio and all, but with a little coaxing, that could easily change. I lightly press myself up against him and give him a gentle kiss on the lips. “Look, baby…you want to hang out with me today?” I say sweetly in his ear.

“You know I do, Shana.”

To put my plan into effect, I lick the corner of his ear and whisper, “Can you ride me around then? I need to take care of a few things.” I place my hand over his heart and feel it beating rapidly. I knew the ear thing would excite him.

“But I was planning on going down to the studio today,” he says.

“Well, can it wait?” I ask snuggling up to him. “I need a ride, baby.” I can feel him caving in, so I turn up the pressure by cupping my hand over
his dick, and again I whisper softly in his ear. “You miss my lovin’, boo? Do me this favor, and I promise to repay you tomorrow night—with interest.”

“How long you gonna be?” he asks.

“Does it matter? You’re gonna be spending the day with me.”

“All right, then. Let me make this quick run to Greg’s crib to get my shit. I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t take too long.”

He rushes to his car, hard as a rock. He’s still my heart. I watch him pull off before turning to go back inside the house. I see Danny peeping at me through the window, and I chuckle. I walk back into the house and head towards my room. Danny’s eyes stay on me the whole time.

Jakim comes back at around two to pick me up. We go straight to the mall, and I purchase a phat, Matte Jersey dress. I also get a few skirts and some shoes. Jakim shops around with me. He helps me pick out a few things, too, and he even takes me to get something to eat. By the time we’re done, it’s going on four o’ clock. I still have that five o’ clock appointment to get my hair done.

“Shana, you must think I’m stupid,” Jakim suddenly blurts out as we drive down Sunrise Highway.

“What?” I ask, stunned by his words.

“You doing all of this shopping and shit, and now you about to go and get your hair done—who you seeing tonight?” he asks irately.

“What are you talking about, Jakim? I told you, I’m hanging out with my aunt tonight.”

“You told me she asked you to do something for her.”

“Yeah, to hang out with her,” I quickly reply.

“So you gotta get all dressed up and shit?”

The day was going so good, and now here he comes with this attitude. I promised myself that I wasn’t going to get upset today—especially over no bullshit. I glance out of the car window and turn back to Jakim, flipping the script. “Look, muthafucka, did you or did you not forget that we are separated, as in no longer together—apart? I can see or fuck whoever I want, so don’t come to me with your bullshit attitude worrying about my business. You ain’t see me get all up all in your business when you was fucking that bigheaded bimbo down the block.”

Jakim grips the steering wheel and says, “Look, Shana, all I’m saying is stop teasing me. I’m sorry about that, but I feel I’ve been punished too long for it. I’m no fucking puppet! You just can’t keep stringing me along whenever you feel like it. You always talk about
your
feelings…shit, what about mine?”

I don’t even answer him, still trying to keep that promise I made to myself. I study Jakim as he focuses his eyes on the road. He looks so cute, reclining in his seat with one hand on the steering wheel, looking like some thug or gangsta. I continue to study him for a few more minutes. “Jakim, I will always love you, no matter what. But right now, I just need some time to myself. And I’m not going to lie to you—yes, I’m seeing other people. Maybe someday we’ll get back together, and maybe we won’t. But we’ll have to let time take care of that.”

“Well, I’m still in love with you, Shana. And I’m still missing you, so fucking much that it’s hurting. And if we can’t be lovers, I feel that we can’t be friends.”

The rest of the ride to the hair salon is mostly quiet, with bits of small talk here and there. When we arrive to the salon, I tell him I’ll catch a cab back home; there’s no telling how long I’m going to be.

I walk into the salon and see six patrons and only four ladies doing hair. I see my girl, Sandra, finishing up with a customer. Sandra is a beautiful woman in her mid twenties with two kids. I met her through my mother, when she used to do her hair. She waves at me, and I walk over to her.

“What’s up girl?!” she hollers.

“What’s up with you?!” I holler back. We exchange hugs, and I take a seat in the empty chair next to her station. After about ten minutes she finishes up her client’s hair, and then she gets started on mine. I just want a perm. We gossip as she begins to work on my hair. She tells me what’s going on around the way and with her life. She’s finally dumped her man, who she was with for three years. She caught him cheating on her with her cousin, who he’d gotten pregnant. Damn, talk about drama.

“I whooped that bitch’s ass, Shana. How she gonna play me like that and fuck my man behind my fucking back?”

“I would’ve killed the bitch,” I say, just to be talking.

Sandra always has news or dirt on other people. That’s one of the main reasons why I go to her—to get the low-down news on other people. She brings up my beef with Sasha, curious about what’s going on with that. I explain to her what, when and how it all down. She’s a hundred percent on my side. “She was in here the other day,” she informs me.

“Fuck that bitch!”

I get done around a quarter to seven. I pay Sandra her usual fee, plus a twenty-dollar tip. Once again we hug, and we promise to hook up some night and go out to the club. Then I call myself a cab.

I’m dressed around eight and ready to go to the Baller’s Jam. I’m looking so fly in my new dress. It shows every curve of my phenomenal body. And my butt is looking too good from the back; it’s like an onion—
guaranteed to make a niggah cry. I move my hands over my body and look at myself in the mirror. “Girl, you are looking too good,” I say praising myself.

I’m home alone, waiting for my aunt to arrive with her date. I sit quietly on the living room couch watching television. It is now eight-thirty. Naja gives me a call, and I tell her about my plans for tonight. She’s hating, and she wants me to beg my aunt for another ticket. I tell her that I received the last one. Tyrone calls, too, but I don’t pick up. He leaves a message.

It’s ten after nine when my Aunt Tina comes to pick me up. Her date is driving that new Range Rover. She’s dressed in a beige leather mini skirt and a blue, sheer, mesh shirt. “Shana, you ready?” she asks, looking at me from head to toe.

“Been ready,” I say.

I meet her date outside. He’s not all that cute, but you could work with him. He’s stocky, about 5’8”, has a thick beard and is wearing two diamond earrings. He has braids and is sporting a very nice, gray Italian suit. His name is Kendell. My aunt says he’s an A&R for Arista records.

We arrive to the Baller’s Jam a little after ten. The crowd of people outside is ridiculous. Every make and style of car is parked out on the street—Lexuses Benzes, BMW’s, Porsches, Town cars and stretch limousines. The crowd tries to get in; they even attempt to rush the door, but security is strapped and not having it.

We drive by a barricade for VIP only. We get out of the truck and
Kendell escorts us to a private entrance. He gives several people dap, which lets us know that he is well known.

“Damn!” I hear someone shout out. I know the mystery person is talking about me.

We enter the party, and the first person I bump into is Jay-Z, holding a bottle of Moet. My eyes light up with excitement. Oh-my-god! He is too fine.

He marvels at me and says, “Damn, shorty! You got a license for dat?” I know he’s referring to my body.

“You willing to find out?” I counter, smiling at him. My aunt notices him, too, and she scurries over with excitement, asking for an autograph. I tell you, Latish and Naja would be hating right now if they knew I ran into Jay-Z. Aunt Tina is all over him, smiling and flirting, while I stand off to the side thinking about how much of a groupie she is.

The place is jam packed with celebrities, athletes, fans, managers, producers…and of course, groupies. The DJ is doing his thang, mixing vinyls from Jay-Z to R-Kelly. Kendell buys me a drink. I glance around the club. There are so many fine men in the house, I feel like a child in a candy factory.

“Can I buy you another drink?” a fine gentleman asks. He’s dressed down in Armani, has short, curly hair and is fine enough to be related to Denzel Washington, my future husband. Denzel just doesn’t know it yet. Anyway, he has gorgeous brown eyes and the softest looking lips.