Hooker to Housewife (8 page)

“I know, girl, that's why I had to put you on alert. Remember I played this game before. I know how these bitches getting down. This was your warning. We know these niggas fuck around but taking this bitch out on some public shit is a no-no. It's time for you to put your dog back on a leash.”

“I appreciate that Arlene, good looking out. I'll speak to you later.”

Chantal reasoned it was time to take Andre back to school. He had forgotten that she, too, started off as a player, but gave all that up when she got him. Hell, she didn't have to play those games anymore because Andre could give her everything that she wanted. But now he was so comfortable he was starting to treat her like a bum bitch. Yeah, Chantal may be known as a party girl with a past reputation of being a high-priced ho, but that was the past. Now she was Chantal Morgan, his girlfriend and the mother of his child. There are privileges that come with that, but he was playing her out right now like she was just some other ho that he didn't give a fuck about. Chantal was about to smack Andre back to reality and make him see exactly what was at stake.

After hanging up with Arlene, Chantal called Shari. Her answering machine came on. Right when she was about to hit her on her cell she remembered Shari told her she was spending the night with her football player man. So Chantal called her back at home and left an emergency message saying to call her ASAP. One thing about Shari, she don't care where she is; she calls first thing in the morning to check all messages. She believes that someone may call about some paper and she never liked to keep money waiting.

Chantal could barely sleep that night. All she kept seeing was Andre putting his dick in Arisa. She knew how the game worked and never thought for a second that Andre was true to her, but to sport Arisa in front of cats that they chilled with was too much. She wasn't even a top shelf trick, just some struggling hofessional. Chantal had done her background check on the chick after she caught him dicking her down the first time. After her research she had Arisa stashed in the “nobody” file. Now, Andre had her out there and she instantly became somebody.

See, a man can fuck with a random bitch and make her a celebrity overnight, but it was different for a woman. In order for Chantal to show Andre up and put his ass back in place, she had to let him know he was replaceable. That meant fucking with the right nigga, which meant dealing with someone equal or above him. The only cat out here right now that was on top of his game like that and wasn't already taken was T-Roc.

T-Roc had it together. He was young and had conquered just about everything, just like Andre. They were enemies on the low. Not that they ever had any beef; both of them were too powerful to entertain that, but they were in constant competition trying to be first to the finish line. He was the perfect man to fuck Andre's head up with. See, women are judged on their looks and men are judged on their power and pockets. Chantal was about to take Andre's power away from him and T-Roc would be the one to make it happen.

Chantal first met T-Roc when she started dating Andre. She had been one of the models for his fashion spread and he tried to kick it with her. By that time she was deep into Andre and trying to lock him down, so dealing with T-Roc was out of the question. Every now and then when she would see him at an industry party, he would tell her if she ever wanted to know how life was with a real bailer to give him a call. Chantal never thought she would have to place that call but it was time to pull out the big guns.

Early the next morning Chantal's phone rang and true to form it was Shari.

“What's going on, girl? Your message said it was an emergency.”

“It is. I need for you to call your friend who works at Def Jam and get T-Roc's number for me.”

Chantal heard Shari taking a deep breath before saying, “T-Roc? What do you want T-Roc's number for?”

“Shari, I'm not in the mood for your twenty-one questions. Just get the damn number from your friend and call me back. Do it now,” Chantal said, as she slammed the phone down, anxious to put her plan in action. Within five seconds of hanging up on Shari, Chantal's phone rang again. She didn't even look at the caller ID because she assumed Shari was calling her back with some dumb-ass question. She picked up the phone and abruptly said, “What?” But it wasn't Shari—it was Andre.

“Who did you think was calling you answering the phone like that?”

“Oh, I thought you were Shari. She wanted to have breakfast this morning and I told her I was still asleep. I thought she was calling to try and convince me one more time. You know I'm not a morning person.” As Chantal was talking she looked at the clock and saw it was nine thirty in the morning.
Andre must have sent his ho home early,
she thought.

“Baby, I wanted to apologize for the other day. I didn't mean anything I said. I've been so stressed with business and I took out
my frustrations on you. I have a surprise coming for you today, just a little something to let you know how sorry I am.”

“You didn't have to do that, baby.”
I already know how sorry your black ass is.

“I wanted to. I hope you like it.”

“I'm sure I will. You have excellent taste.”

“Call me after you get it.”

“Okay baby, I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Andre said feeling relieved they were back on good terms.

Chantal hung up her phone. For a brief second she felt bad for the torture she was about to put Andre through, but that feeling didn't last. If she truly wanted to be Mrs. Andre Jackson then she had to go through with her plan. Her conversation with Arlene last night was a wake-up call. Andre was obviously comfortable with having her tucked away in Chicago while he ran the streets in New York. It was clear that he had no intentions of marrying her. Andre was perfectly content with their current arrangement. When he wanted Chantal at his side he would fly her in, or if he wanted to appear like the father of the year he would bring her and Melanie to well-orchestrated photo ops. Then he could dismiss them and resume to his bad-boy partying ways. Andre had been running the show for so long, she didn't realize how bad things had gotten. It was crunch time and Chantal needed to make her move.

It took Shari
a couple of days to track down her friend at Def Jam, but Chantal knew she would, and Shari came through with T-Roc's digits.

“Girl, I went through hell getting this number for you,” Shari complained. “I had to promise the fat fuck dinner in order to get the damn digits.”

“Honey bunny, I definitely owe you but this is an emergency. I need to get my plan up and popping because I'm already having second thoughts.”

The day Andre called to apologize, Chantal got a special delivery courtesy of Cartier. Andre purchased the diamond watch she'd been eyeing for over a month. He attached a card saying, “To my beautiful diamond, I'll always love you.” Chantal immediately called him expressing how much she loved the watch and him.

She basically deaded her plan until she got the second phone
call from the concierge, whom Chantal promised to tip handsomely if he'd go check on Andre for her. He told her that when he went to the penthouse and knocked on the door some girl who fit the description of Arisa answered, butt-naked. He said she seemed giggly and high. When he asked to see Mr. Jackson she let him in and Andre was sitting on the couch and another naked girl was on her hands and knees sucking him off. Andre asked him what he wanted and the concierge made some excuse saying the car service he ordered was here to pick him up. Andre looked at him and said, “I don't use no damn car service. I got my own car and personal driver. Now get out, can't you see I'm in the middle of something.”

Chantal was livid to say the least, but it just reinforced that she was making the right decision to put her plan into effect. Andre had some nerve, she reasoned. One minute he was calling and apologizing, sending her a $25,000 watch, the next thing he was in his penthouse participating in yet another ménage à trois with Arisa. Chantal had had enough and was too through. When she finished with Andre, he would be so shook he'd be rushing her down the aisle, Chantal rationalized.

Later on that night while Melanie was asleep, Chantal was lying in her bed munching on popcorn and watching
America's Next Top Model.
“Where does Tyra find these chicks at? I can go to New York and walk down Sixth Avenue to find twenty hotter ladies than these trollops. Tyra isn't fooling anybody; she just doesn't want a real fly bitch taking her shine so she makes sure she only picks whack-ass chicks,” Chantal said with disgust. As the show was going off, Chantal looked at her clock and thought it was a perfect time to call T-Roc.

She had already practiced what to say, so she started dialing his number. An intense, agitated voice answered, “What?” Chantal put her sweet innocent tone on and asked to speak to T-Roc. He didn't seem impressed by her Marilyn Monroe imitation and huffed, “This is T-Roc—who the fuck is this?”

She took a deep breath and said, “It's me, Chantal Morgan.”
There was a long pause on the phone and the silence was driving her crazy. She could tell he was trying to put a face to the name, so she decided to give him a little help. “A few years back I was the lead model for the launch of your women's clothing line.”

Still not a word, then he blurted out with cautionary excitement, “Andre's Chantal?”

“Yeah, that's me.” The agitated voice was now a distant memory and the infamously smooth playboy T-Roc instantly took over.

“How did you get my number?” he asked.

“Through a friend. Why? Do you have a problem with me calling you?”

“Of course not, I'm just a little surprised. I actually ran into Andre the other night at 40/40,” he said sarcastically, so Chantal knew he must have seen him with that hoochie, Arisa.

“That's nice, but I didn't call to talk about Andre. I was actually trying to get back on the modeling scene and thought you could help.”

“ ‘Modeling scene,' ” he said jokingly. “From what I understand you're getting taken care of lovely. Why are you trying to get back into modeling?”

“I'm becoming restless, and I want to do something of my own. How about it, T-Roc? You think you can hook me up with something?”

“I might. Let's sit down and talk about it.”

“That sounds like a plan. When and where?”

“I'm headed to LA tomorrow, so how about meeting there on Friday?”

“That'll work.”

“Okay, cool, I'll be in touch with all the arrangements. I look forward to seeing you Chantal.” And with that T-Roc hung up the phone.

The plan is all coming together nicely,
Chantal thought. She decided not to even inform Andre that she would be in LA. He'd
find out the news just like everybody else. That was just the first step, but she believed her plan would work out perfectly. By this time next week, Andre would be having second thoughts about their arrangement. Chantal went to sleep that night going over what she titled “Operation: Get Hitched,” at least a hundred times. She tossed and turned with the hope that this would finally seal the deal.

 

T-Roc was feeling intrigued after his conversation with Chantal. He analyzed why she was tracking him down after all these years. Yeah, he had seen her a few times at some industry parties, but it was always a quick hello and good-bye. Something told him she was up to more than just getting her modeling back on track. Whatever it was, it definitely had something to do with Andre, and that was fine with him. T-Roc never really liked the cat, and if Chantal was using him to infuriate Andre then by all means she could use him. Plus, Chantal was one of the prettiest pieces of ass he had ever laid eyes on; it would be his pleasure to help her get over her man.

Right when T-Roc was about to call it a night and hit the off switch on his flat panel plasma, a face that he hadn't seen up close and personal in a long time flashed across the screen. He couldn't help but rewind the commercial in order to view the image once again. Then he hit pause so he could stare at the object of his affection. Through all the catastrophes she had endured, the innocence that attracted T-Roc to her so many years ago was still intact. He stepped out of bed and walked to the screen, running the tip of his finger over the outline of her lips as he said, “Tyler Blake, the one who got away.” He couldn't believe how far she'd come in such a brief amount of time. There was Tyler, the new face of Revlon cosmetics, giving that over-the-shoulder smile that would melt any man's heart. T-Roc never got over the fact that Tyler had never been
completely his. During their brief affair, T-Roc had not planned to become so completely enamored with the young beauty. He was the one used to loving them and leaving them at his convenience. When Tyler broke off their relationship, it had come as a complete shock. He didn't believe for a minute that she would be able to walk away. As the time passed, he later learned that she had a baby with someone else. For the first time in his life a woman had actually devastated him. Now there she was on his screen as if he could reach right through and touch and feel her again.