Live and Learn (9 page)

C
lub XXXcite was packed as always. The bass of the music echoed downstairs into the dressing room as I smoothed some sweet-ass raspberry glitter lotion all over my body. Just gettin’ ready to give them hardheads what they want. I’d have dem tongues waggin’ for a taste of Juicy.

“Dom, you’re up next,” Dogg, the new muscle-bound bouncer, yelled down from the top of the stairs.

“A’ight,” I yelled back, taking one last swig of my Dom P. champagne straight from the bottle.

I double-checked my reflection in the small mirror hanging on the open door of my locker. My short, spiky do was tight, fresh from a trim and curl at Compliments. My makeup perfectly in place. My smooth chocolate complexion gleaming from a fresh rub of cocoa butter. Gold jewelry gleaming from my ears and neck.

Shit, I looked f’ing good.

“I don’t know why your black ass always in the mirror like you cute.”

The words from my past caused my eyes to dull, and the image in the mirror changed. It was me at eight years old. Hair wasn’t as long as a finger snap. Face ashy. Eyes filled with fuckin’ pain that I still feel today.

Tears filled my eyes, and I blinked to keep ’em from fallin’.

Growin’ up black, bald-headed, and poor wasn’t easy for me.

I took another sip of the champagne, and when I looked in the mirror again, Li’l Dom was gone.
Damn.

“Dom!” Dogg called down to me again.

I ain’t have time to let my f’ed-up past keep me from makin’ dis money. Since I didn’t trust any of these scandalous bitches as far as I could throw they trickin’ asses, I put my padlock on my locker. I’ll be damned if they up in my champagne, smokin’ my weed, or “borrowin’” any of my damn clothes while I’m upstairs shakin’ dat ass.

I climbed the stairs slow as hell so that I wouldn’t fall in my new five-inch glass stilettos. “Whaddup, Dogg.” I ignored the once-over he gave me.

“You working that thong with your sexy black self.”

It pissed me the hell off when somebody called me black. Not Black like my race but black like I’m dark-skinned. The shit always sounded like an insult, especially when some idiot would say, “She’s pretty…for a black girl.”

Dumb, right?

Ignoring his ignorant ass, I stepped through the break in the curtain onto the dark stage. It was time to make dat money.

“Yo, Dom!” Dogg hollered at me as I strutted by him in the dimly lit club.

He leaned down, the flashing neon lights reflecting off his bald head. “You got a request in the Balloon Room.”

Looking up at him, I rubbed my index and middle finger against my thumb, giving him the sign for money.

“He gave me a hundred just to tell you. Go ’head and make that money, gal,” he yelled into my ear before slapping my ass.

I gave him the middle finger before I turned and made my way straight to the back of the club. There were three private rooms, each decorated with its own theme and shit. The Fur Room was decked out with nothing but white fake furs, even down to the walls and floor. The Champagne Room had a big-ass champagne glass in the middle of it filled with bubble bath. And the Balloon Room was filled with nothing but a bunch of balloons floating to the ceiling and all on the floor.

I pulled my thong from so deep up in my ass and walked into the room from the dancers’ entrance, stepping right up on the mini stage. I took my spot with my back to my private freakazoid as “Juicy Fruit” by Mtume—my signature song—came on. I knew how to work my hips and ass as I gave it to him full force, undoing my bra and letting it slip to the floor.

“This what the fuck you won’t give up for me?”

I was just easing my thong down over my hips when my ass froze. Turning, I covered my titties with my hands and looked dead into one pissed-off face. “Lex!”

“I just wanted to see for my damn self what your ass love so damn much ’bout dis bullshit!” he shouted, his face twisted in anger.

“How long you been in here, Lex?” I asked, ’cause I didn’t know what else to say.

“Long enough to see your nasty ass squat on a Heineken bottle.”

“Why you actin’ like this? I ain’t fucking none of these niggas,” I shouted back, picking up my bra from the stage.

“I can’t tell. You was about to get naked just now.”

Suddenly the door opened, and there stood Dogg with his big cock diesel ass. There were video cameras in each private room so that the bouncers could make sure none of these hardheads got out of line with tryin’ to rape or attack somebody or some shit.

“Everything a’ight, Juicy?”

Lex stared at me for a long-ass time. “Who he? Your f’ing pimp?”

I stepped down off the stage and reached out to slap the hell out of his ass. It echoed like a firecracker in the room. Even Dogg made an ugly face.

Lex reached into the pocket of his jeans and searched until he found three one-dollar bills in his roll. Ballin’ it into his fist, he threw it in my face. “Make sure he get his cut,” he said in a nasty voice, before pushing past Dogg to leave the room.

“You a’ight, Dom?”

I just shook my head as I pushed past him to run behind Lex. My tits were swinging free as I dropped my bra in the fucking commotion. By the time I reached the door, his SUV sped off down the street.

I still can’t believe this shit.

“Are you okay, ma’am?”

I looked up at the police officer as I sat on the curb. I saw him but I didn’t see him, you understand? I didn’t know if I would ever be okay, but I nodded at him anyway.

After Lex left the club, I kicked off my heels, raced downstairs, and changed clothes. Five minutes later I was in my car and headed toward the direction he drove off. I had barely gone a mile before the sound of sirens was all that I heard. The closer I got to the scene, the more I slowed my car.

I damn near wrecked my own shit when I saw the SUV twisted around the light pole. I slammed on my brakes and ran into the middle of traffic to get closer. As soon as I saw the license plate, I nearly passed the hell out.

It was Lex’s truck.

I tried to get past the cops to get to him and make sure he was a’ight.

But it was too late.

Lex was dead, and it was all my fault.

T
he four friends stood together in front of the open casket. The room in the funeral parlor was filled to capacity, and all eyes were on Dom as she looked down into Lex’s face. Mo, Alizé, and Cris surrounded her, offering silent support.

“What the fuck I’m gone do without him, y’all?” Dom asked, her raspy voice breaking up.

Cris and Mo exchanged a look behind her. It was a difficult question to answer.

Alizé took the lead, taking Dom’s slender hand into her own. “You keep living and loving him, Dom.”

Moët placed her arm around Dom’s thin shoulders, pulling her closer to her side. “You stop blaming yourself, because it was an accident.”

“You rely on us because we will always have your back,” Cristal offered. “Always.”

“W
elcome to Braun, Weber, Monica.”

I rose from my seat and firmly grasped the hand of the vice president of Mergers and Acquisitions, Cameron Steele. “Thank you, Mr. Steele. I certainly look forward to this invaluable experience of working with you and your team this summer.”

I sounded like Cristal, right? Well, I was smart enough to know that in the workplace all of my
ain’ts
don’t belong, and cursing wasn’t appropriate. I could flip the script with the best of them.

Cameron Steele was not at all what I was expecting. Young, virile, handsome, and beautifully B-L-A-C-K. He moved with confidence and strength. He spoke with intelligence. His smile was nice and charming. He definitely was the Head Negro in Charge and wasn’t a damn thing wrong with that.

Everything about him spoke of a Black man headed up the corporate ladder. The sharp navy Brooks Brother pinstripe suit, with a crisp tailored white shirt and rust-print tie. Diamond cufflinks in place. Handmade shoes which I knew were Gucci.

But as handsome as he was with his six-foot-four athletic frame and rugged good looks, he was definitely not my style. Any concern I might’ve had for falling for my boss vanished instantly.

Thug appeal still had me hooked.

“Delaney, will you come in here for a moment,” he spoke into his intercom.

Seconds later his administrative assistant appeared, opening the office door. “Mr. Steele?”

“Please escort Monica to her office and help get her situated.”

“My own office?” I asked, clutching my new Longchamp briefcase in my hands in front of me as I followed the short, plump woman out of the office.

“Don’t get too excited. It’s more like a walk-in closet with a desk,” she told me with a conspiratorial wink of her green eyes.

And that was exactly what it was.

After she left me alone with some office supplies, I removed the navy tailored jacket of my Marithé François Girbaud pantsuit and rolled up the sleeves of my white shirt. The outfit was nothing at all like the hood rich gear I preferred, but hey, when in Rome….

I took a spin around my office, taking everything in all at once, which wasn’t hard. The entire space could fit in the corner of Mr. Steele’s stylish workspace. I guess I should feel lucky I even got an office and not just a cubicle. A few pictures and I would get my spot straight.

Taking a seat behind the desk, I wondered what I should be doing. I picked up the phone and dialed Cristal’s work number.

“Platinum Records.”

“Hey, girl. Guess who?”

“Not Ms. Madison Avenue.”

“The one and only. I’m calling you from my office.”

“Oooh. I’m scared of you.”

“Don’t be. It’s ’bout as big as a matchbox.”

“You got to creep before you crawl, Alizé.”

“Yeah, I know, I know. Girl, guess what?”

“What?”

“My supervisor, the VP of Mergers and Acquisitions, is a brother.”

“Get out.”

“Uh-huh. He cute, too, in that chocolate-dipped white man sorta way. Definitely more your type than mine.”

“Single or married? Straight, gay, or bi? Rich or surviving?”

“Girl, I don’t know. I just met the man today,” I told her, opening a drawer to find it empty. “We should meet for lunch one day. Just two sistahs working hard for the money in the Big NYC.”

“That is fine with me. Just not today, I am meeting Winthrop at Le Bernadine.”

“Ooh, Le Bernadine. I’m scared of you.” I teased her about the very popular four-star restaurant. “So white boy still hangin’ in there, huh?”

“We are just friends, Alizé.”

“Whatever.”

“It is true.”

“Denial damn sure ain’t just a river in Egypt. When you want to do lunch?” I asked her, reaching into my briefcase for the matching agenda and my favorite Movado pen, all graduation gifts from Rah.

“How about tomorrow at one o’clock?”

I jotted the info onto my calendar. “Cool.”

“Maybe we should invite Mo and Dom. It’s been a while since the four of us got together.”

“Yeah, not since your graduation. I’m worried about both of them. Wait…hold on a sec.”

Delaney knocked again before she stepped into the office. “Grab a pen and a pad. Meeting in five minutes.”

“Cristal, I have to go. Got my first corporate meeting. Girl, I’m so excited.”

“Hey, Ze.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m proud of you, girl.”

I was touched. “Thanks, Cris. Thanks a lot.”

My thoughts were on Dom when I pulled Rah’s Benz into the driveway where I lived with my mother. I was worried about her. Lex’s death had crushed through that hard shell she kept around herself. Seeing her weak and defeated at his funeral had pained us all.

That was a month ago, and although she puts on a brave front, I still don’t think she’s recovered. If anything, she seems even more distant and hostile, even at times lashing out at the three of us.

In fact, it had been about two weeks since I’d even seen Dom. We spoke on the phone, but no shopping excursions or going out to eat. We were all so busy, there never seemed to be time.

Still, friendship was about making time.

Not even bothering to get out, I put the Benz in reverse and backed out into the street.

I was just turning onto Springfield Avenue when my cell phone rang. Seeing Lionel’s name and number displayed on the caller ID, I switched the call to voice mail. I’d decided a couple of weeks ago to cool things down. My little undercover lover wanted too much, too soon, with too little money.

He even asked me to move in with him!

That little one-room studio wasn’t hardly big enough for him, far less me, him,
and
my wardrobe.

Besides, Rah was picking up his game lately, and he was just too good to me. I got free clothes from his stores, he got my hair done once a week at Compliments, I drove his car like it was mine, and he bought me nice things all the time. In the end I had to decide what was more important: a man who could financially provide or a wet ass?

So goodbye to Lionel and those ten inches.

“Hey, Diane, how you doing?”

“Well, damn, Alizé, it’s been a minute since I last saw your ass. Still jiggy as hell, I see. That’s a badass suit you sportin’.”

We gave each other a hug as I walked into an apartment that looked like it belonged on the Upper East Side of New York and not the projects.

“Thank ya. Thank ya. I wore this for my internship. Is Dom here?”

“Yeah, she up in that room as always,” Diane threw over her shoulder as she headed to the kitchen.

Following behind her, I glanced at Dom’s closed bedroom door. “How she doing?”

Diane just shrugged and waved her hand as if to say, “Who cares.”

Growing up we always thought Dom had the coolest mom. She dressed like we did, knew all the latest songs and dances like we did, partied at the hottest clubs like we did, smoked weed with us, and talked about sex and men with us. She was more like one of the girls. More like Dom’s sister than her mother. No curfews. No questions. No rules.

We all had wanted Diane to be our mother.

But when I heard her mumble under her breath, “That bitch needs to get up and get over it,” I questioned the wisdom of my youth.

I walked out of the kitchen and over to Dom’s door. I didn’t even bother to knock as I opened it and walked in. I started coughing from the massive weed smoke trapped inside them four walls. The stench of alcohol was so strong that I felt I could swallow the air and get a damn buzz. As always clothes were everywhere until you couldn’t even see the floor. “Dom?”

She was sitting in the windowsill wearing nothing but a thong, a blunt in her mouth and a bottle of half-empty Hennessey at her feet. “Hey, Alizé. What’s up, girl?”

I could tell she was high as hell. I mean, why else would she be sitting damn near naked in front of an open window. True, their apartment was on the twelfth floor, but still. I wanted to check her on it, but I held my tongue.

“I just came by to check on you. Where’s our godchild?”

“Moët took her to some festival or some shit at their church.”

“You gotta work?” I asked, stepping right atop her clothes to sit on the foot of her bed.

“Not at the club. Me and this other chick doin’ a private set downtown.”

I reached down and picked up an empty Apropo leather fringe purse. “I thought you didn’t do those private shows? Dom, you have got to be careful.”

“Don’t tell me what the fuck to do, a’ight?”

I did a double take at her tone. I got mad and flung the purse back on the floor along with the rest of her shit.

“Bitch, don’t throw my shit on the floor.”

Standing, I grabbed my car keys. “You the bitch. You done lost your mind. Call me when you find it.”

She said nothing, and I left the room.

“What that bitch doin’ up in there? She better be getting ready to carry her ass to work. Life ain’t forever, but bills is.”

I kept on walking to the door. “I’ll see you later, Diane.”

I closed the door behind myself as my anger toward Dom disappeared. She was still my friend, and although she just pissed me off, I knew I would never give up on my friendship. We been through too much for that shit.

I drove straight home, not even bothering to turn on the music. I walked into the house and straight into the kitchen where I knew I would find my own mother. “I love you, Ma,” I whispered in her ear, hugging her little body close from behind as I placed my face on her back.

I felt her tears shaking her shoulders before I heard her sniffles. “Ma, what’s wrong?” I asked, turning her to face me.

“Janice saw your father and some high yella woman all hugged up at Mahogany’s last night.”

Damn. My heart ached at the redness and puffiness of her eyes. I hugged her close and said nothing. What could I say? I didn’t want to take sides. I didn’t want to admit that I knew about my father’s girlfriend. I didn’t have the heart to tell her to get over my father because he wasn’t coming back.

Love ain’t nothing but a no-good son of a bitch.