Hooker to Housewife (7 page)

Andre had to admit, though, that shit was getting a little old. He was ready to settle down and have a family, but his lifestyle was hard to shake. If he was going to settle down with a good woman that would mean no more coke, popping ecstasy or ménage à trois, and he wasn't sure if he was ready for all that. On another note he didn't want some ultraconservative woman who bored the hell out of him. Andre needed some spunk in his life, and one thing he could say about Chantal was that she had a lot of spunk.

Even if Andre did find someone new who he could wife, how would they deal with Chantal? She made it clear that she was willing to die for this relationship. Andre didn't even know if it was so much that Chantal was in love with him or if she just loved the life. She had been trying to lock down a bailer forever and she felt like she'd hit the jackpot with him.

But Andre had to admit that when he first met Chantal he was so caught up. Nobody had ever put it on him like she did. She made him feel like he had the best dick in the world, which was an excellent ego booster. But the more he had her out there with him, the more he kept hearing stories of her past indiscretions. He soon realized that she basically was no more than a high-priced ho. But by that time he was already sprung. Andre refused to stop fucking with her. He figured he could keep her as his main jump-off
and keep his relationship with Aubrey Price, his movie star girlfriend. Then Chantal dropped the news that she was pregnant and everything just spun out of control. Andre didn't have any kids and he knew Chantal would make him a beautiful baby; he also had to admit to himself that he was in love with her, or at least in extreme lust.

Andre decided to just go all out and try to make it work. He broke things off with Aubrey, and of course she was devastated. His mother couldn't believe that he had now made this known whore into his woman. Growing up on the road with his father and being exposed to scandalous women like Chantal on a regular basis, Mrs. Jackson didn't understand how her son had gotten sucked in by such an obvious tramp. She wasn't very fond of the movie star girlfriend he had been dating, either, and secretly hoped he would one day settle down and marry a nice girl, but when she met Chantal Morgan for the first time she was ready to call the movie star herself and beg her to make it work with her son. The only person who was happy about everything was Chantal. He moved her into the big house and she now felt like the Queen of Sheba. But Andre quickly became miserable. He bought the chick everything her heart desired but she still wasn't content. She wanted to tell him what to do and be in his business like they were husband and wife. The more Andre tried to explain to her that he wasn't ready for that, the more she pressured him. It was to the point that he seemed to be buying her a big-ass diamond every other month just to shut her up. And it did, because all Chantal really liked to do was show off in front of her friends. She got a kick out of flaunting every new piece of ice or wardrobe she got.

The more Andre gave her, the more she wanted. Once Melanie was born it got even worse. Andre reflected on the day he had wanted to punch Chantal in her mouth. He walked in unexpectedly while she and her girlfriends were running their mouths. Chantal was holding their daughter and boasted, “Ladies, I'm holding the million dollar baby.”

Her girlfriends chimed in, “Yeah Chantal, Melanie is the million dollar baby, and you set for life.”

“You silly bitches saying that shit like it's cute. There ain't no price tag on my daughter! And you, Chantal, have absolutely no substance,” Andre told Chantal and her worthless group of friends. He was furious. Their mouths all hit the floor and eyes jumped out of their sockets as they got caught revealing their true one-dimensional selves.

“Baby, we were just kidding. It was a joke. We know that Melanie is worth more than that,” Chantal said, giving what she considered an apology.

“If that was supposed to be an apology, you sound even more jaded,” Andre said, as he grabbed his daughter and left the room.

Even with all that, he was still willing to stay with her. Andre would have continued to stay with Chantal and given her everything except for the official ring, which was the one prize she wanted most. Because of that, their relationship was different. She was making the issue bigger and bigger, even using Melanie as pawn. He was becoming more and more stressed because he didn't know how to rectify the situation. Andre wanted to be a father to Melanie and still wanted to be with Chantal, too, but not as her husband. He was perfectly content with her being his baby mama.

It was evident to Andre that Chantal had another objective and was determined to see it through. She would never accept him getting married to another woman and still see her, too. Chantal had ego for days and felt no other woman even deserved to breathe the same air as her. She stomached him fucking around with random bitches, but it was a whole other thing for him to get in a full-fledged relationship. At the end of the day, as long as she was the official girlfriend she thought all the other chicks were just irrelevant sexual peons. She was willing to deal with that because she figured Andre had no real attachment to them, but he was now
ready to find “the one.” Andre decided to keep all this to himself, because there was no telling what Chantal would do if she knew he was planning on settling down with someone besides her. When the time was right Andre would discuss it with her and make her understand. Until then, he would just continue to dabble with his sidepieces.

When Andre's driver
pulled up to Arisa's apartment building on 125th Street, he contemplated moving her out of the sleazy neighborhood and upgrading her to a more upscale location. Arisa lived in the seedy part of Harlem and although this was only Andre's second time coming to pick her up, the area made him feel uneasy. But then again he really didn't want to make that type of investment in this chick. It would be nothing for him to put her in a $2,000-a-month studio, but then that would lead him to getting her a two bedroom, and then a car and bunch of other shit that he didn't want to be responsible for. It wasn't about the money; it would be about what all that stood for—some sort of commitment. She would be dependent on him on a regular basis. She would count on him to pay her bills every month and if something was late he would have to hear her nagging voice asking him to fix it. Nah, Andre decided he didn't need that headache; Chantal was
enough. He would just continue hitting Arisa off with money and add a little extra. Then suggest to her that maybe she should find a better area to live in. That way it's all on her and none of the responsibility would fall on him.

Arisa finally came down, looking sexy in a black fitted jumpsuit; her long black hair was sweeping down her back. She was a very pretty girl but she nowhere compared to Chantal's beauty. But Arisa was a good fuck and a great party girl. Andre actually met her when he was on his man Nelly's video set. She caught his eye because he remembered seeing her in
XXL
magazine in the eye candy section. She was what he would call a “hofesional.” But Andre needed that in his life right now. He had other jump-offs that had their own money and careers but they would always put pressure on him to leave Chantal. Arisa never dared part her lips and make such a suggestion. Even after Chantal had sucker punched her she didn't have a bad word to say about her. Arisa was just happy to be able to tell her friends that she knew Andre and she wasn't going to let running off at the mouth jeopardize that.

“Hi baby. How do I look?” Arisa asked before entering the car.

“You look beautiful. I can't wait to get you out of that outfit later on tonight.”

“If you like, I could call one of my girlfriends and have her meet us later.” That was why Andre dug Arisa, because she was always out to please him and he loved that.
Maybe a ménage à trois is what I need to get my mind off of all this other bullshit,
Andre thought to himself.

When Andre and Arisa stepped into 40/40 they went directly upstairs to one of the private rooms. Andre really didn't like to be seen out with other women but this was supposed to be some real down low shit and he wasn't in the mood to be alone. It was already a little crowded and the champagne was flowing. Jay and Kanye were shooting pool, while a group of lovely ladies cheered them on. Lebron James was in the corner talking to some hot chick and a few other basketball players he didn't really recognize were holding court on the couch.

As Andre was about to pour Arisa a glass of champagne he saw T-Roc walk in with some Victoria's Secret model. On his way to sit down, he stopped by, said hello, and gave Andre a pound. T-Roc gave Arisa a long hard stare and turned back to Andre and smiled. Andre didn't think too much of it and continued pouring Arisa's drink. He thought it was nice being there, relaxing with no press to bother him and no one to answer to. Chantal would've been bored as hell at this sort of function. Her new thing was Hollywood. If it wasn't something that was dealing with a photo op then she'd rather be at home. Still, Andre was beginning to miss Chantal. He had hit below the belt with his comments before she left. Tomorrow he would call and apologize, before stopping by Cartier and having them send her the diamond watch she told him she loved. That would put a smile on her face. But tonight it was all about the sex show Arisa and her girlfriend would be putting on for him. As his eyes scanned the room, Andre thought maybe they wouldn't have to call her girlfriend after all because the shorty in the corner was looking right. Yeah, that's when Andre decided he needed some new ass to break in.

 

Chantal was in a deep sleep when she heard the phone ringing. She looked over at the clock and it was two in the morning.
Who in the hell would be calling me at this time of night?
Chantal thought to herself. Her caller ID showed a New York number. In an evil-ass voice she said, “Hello.”

“Chantal I'm sorry to call you so late but I had to talk to you.” She didn't recognize the woman's voice on the other end, maybe because of the loud music blasting in the back.

“Who is this?” Chantal asked, frustrated.

“It's me, Arlene.”

“Arlene?” she repeated sounding annoyed.

“Yeah,” she said so the loud music wouldn't drown out her voice.

“Girl, what's up? I know it must be some hellafied shit to be calling this late.” Although Chantal and Arlene were still tight, they didn't talk that often. After Chantal became serious with Andre she had no time to run the streets with Arlene. The women went in two different directions. Chantal became Andre's arm piece and even though Arlene never found a permanent replacement sponsor, she managed to sleep her way to a high-ranking position at a major record label. With both having busy schedules, they would speak every couple of months. Since they'd had their routine powwow a few weeks ago, this call meant trouble.

“I'm at this party at 40/40 and Andre is here, Chantal.” Chantal knew what she was about to tell her. That sorry son of a bitch was with somebody. She immediately rose up in the bed and turned on her night light. She had to mentally prepare herself for the break off Arlene was about to spit at her.

“Andre is there? Well, did you say hello?” Chantal knew Andre didn't say hello; he didn't even know Arlene like that. He could see Arlene standing next to Chantal and not recognize her face. Chantal was just trying to downplay the fact she was calling her about some shady shit regarding her man.

“No, I didn't speak; I don't think Andre knows me like that,” Arlene replied.

“Oh, so what's up?”

“Girl, I'm going to just come right out and tell you.”

“Yeah, that would be wise.”

“Andre is here with some girl,” she blurted out.

“Is it just the two of them?” Chantal calmly asked.

“When they came in, it was just the two of them, but now some other girl has joined them.”

“Do you know who the chick is that he came with?” Chantal was curious.

“At first I didn't, but then I asked a friend of mine, and he said some video chick.”

“Not a video hofessional!” Chantal screamed. At first she was trying to act calm, but she could no longer contain her anger. “What's the bitch's name?”

“Arisa. Do you know her?”

“Arisa!” Chantal howled into the phone. Luckily Melanie's bedroom was way down the hall because she felt like she could've woken up the whole neighborhood with that one. “Is she half-black, half-Filipina?”

“Yeah, you know her?”

“Yeah, I know exactly who she is. I can't believe that mother-fucker is still screwing that bitch. He is at a party with that hofessional Arisa, has he lost his damn mind? Andre has gone too far. It's one thing to fuck these tricks behind closed doors, but he has the nerve to take it to the streets. Talk about a slap in the face.”