Material Girl 2 (2 page)

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Authors: Keisha Ervin

BOOK: Material Girl 2
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She’d been admiring his toned back. Milania looked at him and winked. Angel was by far one of the sexiest men she’d ever laid her eyes upon, and in her industry, she’d seen a-plenty. But there was something about Angel that set him apart from the pack. Maybe it was his confidence or his cocky swagger that attracted so many women to him. No, it was his boy-next-door charm.
One glimpse at Angel’s beautiful smile or one look into his smoldering brown eyes and you were trapped. His skin was a tantalizing shade of warm honey. He was six feet two and 220 pounds of pure muscle. He rocked a bald head and goatee. Across his chest was a tattoo that read “Death before Dishonor” and along the right side of his body beginning at his shoulder and ending at his ankle was a tribal tattoo.
“What you over there thinkin’ about?” she asked, feeling cream build inside her panties.
“Nothin’,” he lied. “Just tryin’ to wake up. I’m still tired as hell from last night.”
“Really?” She smiled deviously. “Would you like some more?” She removed the covers and revealed her flawless five feet eleven svelte physique.
Angel unconsciously licked his bottom lip. Milania was built like an Egyptian goddess. Her skin was a silky shade of butter pecan. Long, raven locks of black hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She didn’t need a stitch of makeup to enhance her beauty. Her doe-shaped eyes, high cheekbones, and Cover Girl smile were all she needed to turn a man on. The winterwhite lace bra and bikini panties she wore only added to her sex appeal.
“As a matter of fact, I do. Come get in the shower wit’ me.” He got up and made his way to the bathroom.
“You ain’t said nothin’ but a word,” Milania beamed, getting up too.
As Angel turned on the shower and got in, she began to peel off the straps of her bra, but as the first strap came down, Angel’s cell began to vibrate. Milania stopped dead in her tracks, considering if she should take a quick peek. For the past two months, she’d wondered if she was the only woman Angel was seeing. Now was the perfect opportunity to take a glimpse at his contacts and call log and find out. Quietly, she crept around the bed and picked up his phone.
Blindsided by the name on the screen, Milania had to catch her breath so she wouldn’t hyperventilate.
What the fuck does she want?
Shaken, Milania took a rapid glance over her shoulder to make sure the coast was clear. Seeing that it was, she pressed ignore, sending Dylan to voice mail.
This bitch ain’t gon’ get in my way this time,
she hissed as the icon showing Angel had a voice mail message popped onto the screen.
With the sound of water running in the background, she pressed one and listened to Dylan’s message. Flabbergasted by the news, she stood paralyzed. Her heart was beating a mile a minute.
This can not be happenin
g
,
she thought, freaking out.
No way can this bitch be pregnant. If Angel finds out, he will surely end things with me and go back to her. I can not lose him again. If I do, all of my hard work will go down the drain. The media won’t be fascinated with me. The paparazzi won’t clamor for my photo. I won’t get anymore free swag, and most important, my plans of being Mrs. Angel Carter will no longer exist. Okay, Milania, think.
She ran her free hand through her hair.
You just need a li’l more time to solidify your relationship before he learns that she’s pregnant.
“What’s takin’ you so long? You get lost?” Angel yelled from the shower, causing Milania to jump.
Her whole entire body was shaking.
“No, here I come!” she yelled back, praying he didn’t hear the panic in her voice.
Milania looked down at the phone realizing she had to make a decision and quick.
Fuck it,
she said to herself. She knew that what she was about to do was fucked up and morally wrong on so many levels, but getting put on nowadays wasn’t as easy for everybody as it was for Amber Rose. Some chicks had to work a li’l harder, suck a li’l bit more dick, give up a lot more pussy, show even more ass and play a lot more games to be famous.
Now was Milania’s time to shine. She would be Hollywood’s new “it girl,” and Angel Carter was her meal ticket to making all of her dreams come true. Without hesitation or a blink of the eye, she erased the message and any evidence that Dylan had called. Pleased with her choice, Milania stripped down to her birthday suit and smiled. Angel was hers, and she was willing to do any and everything to make sure things stayed that way.
 
 
“I can’t believe that muthafucka!” Tee-Tee spat with his hand on his hip.
He and Dylan were inside of Macy’s picking out an outfit for her to wear to Billie’s New Year’s Eve party.
“I mean, it’s been three weeks since you called him, and his ass ain’t called and said nothin’?”
“I found it odd too at first, but I guess he just doesn’t wanna have anything to do with me.” Dylan tried to seem nonchalant about the situation as she slipped on a dress.
For the past three weeks, she’d put on the illusion that she was this strong, independent woman who didn’t need a man, meaning Angel, by her side. But really, when no one was around and all she had was herself to be with, she felt sick, like the air God breathed into her lungs had escaped. She felt bamboozled, hurt, pissed off, unwanted, shut out, forgotten, and alone.
It wasn’t like she had a mother who she could lean on. Her mother, Candy, couldn’t even be put in the classification of a mother. She was like the anti-mother. Candy could’ve easily been the spokesperson for the worst mother in the world. She didn’t even teach her her ABC’s. One of Dylan’s many nannies did. Yet still crying on her cousin’s shoulder was something she wasn’t willing to do. Yes, the pain in her chest felt like she was being constantly stabbed, but Dylan had to live and stay focused for her baby.
Regrettably, with each day that passed, that notion became harder and harder. For Dylan, being pregnant only brought on an added stress that she didn’t need. She was already dealing with the fact that her bakery, Edible Couture, which had only been open six months, was failing miserably. Every day it became increasingly harder for her to pay the store’s rent and the rent on her town house. Bills were piling up to the ceiling, and sooner than later her bakery would have to close. If that was Dylan’s fate, she didn’t know what she was going to do.
“It’s okay if he don’t wanna have nothin’ to do with you, but what about the baby?” Tee-Tee continued to go off. “The baby don’t have nothin’ to do wit’ y’all mess. It didn’t ask to be brought into this world,” Tee-Tee snapped outside the dressing-room door.
“Just please give me his number so I can cuss his ass out.”
“For the one-hundredth time, no!” Dylan stepped out to view herself in the full-length mirror.
She couldn’t even tell that she was pregnant. The telltale signs only came through in her face and breasts.
“But why?” Tee-Tee whined. “I’m so good at it. Plus, his ass deserve to get a tongue-lashing.”
“I know he does, but it’s just not worth it.” Dylan examined herself from head to toe and side to side, hoping Tee-Tee would drop the conversation, because she was starting to feel claustrophobic.
“Okay, I know that having a baby changes people’s views on life, but you are not gon’ sit up here and pretend that you are not fazed by his behavior.”
“Honest to Prada.” Dylan raised her hand as if she were giving the Hippocratic Oath. “I’m okay. I mean . . . I’m not okay.” She looked off to the side. “You know what I mean. I just have to learn how to deal with having this baby on my own,” she swallowed, looking down at her feet.
“If you say so,” Tee-Tee replied and zipped up the back of her dress. “By the way, have you talked to Billie?”
“Yeah, like a week and a half ago.”
“Has she talked to him?” he inquired.
“We really weren’t able to get off into all of that. She and Knox had to get on their flight to India.” Dylan felt a heat wave rush over her body.
“So is he coming to the party?” Tee-Tee probed further.
“As far as I know, no,” Dylan said, fanning herself with her hand. “I gotta sit down.”
“You okay?” Tee-Tee took her by the hand and led her back into the dressing room.
“No, I feel like I gotta throw up.”
“Ughh. Just don’t do it on me.” He scooted back.
“Shut up.” Dylan grimaced, fanning her face with her purse. “I don’t think I wanna go to the party,” she pouted.
“Why?”
“’Cause I look like a fat pig.” Dylan picked at her dress.
“No, you don’t. You’re barely showing, and you gotta come. It’s gonna be fun, and we gon’ be the flyest chicks up in there. Well, I know I am ’cause a bitch like me is about to show her ass while I still can before this baby come.” Tee-Tee popped his lips.
“Oh, Tee-Tee, I’m so sorry.” She rubbed his arm. “I haven’t asked you anything about how the adoption is going.”
“It’s going. We’re going through the homestudy process now,” he sighed.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a written report by a social worker where basically the social worker does an intensive background search, finds out our motivation toward adoption, etc. Afterward, the social worker gives their summary on us and their recommendation.”
“Well, if you need my help with anything, just let me know.”
“I will, and by the way, bitch, you betta work! That dress is fierce on you!” He snapped his fingers.
Dylan looked down at the dress. It was an all-black sheath dress by Rachel Roy.
“Thanks, my love. I like it too, but this is just way too expensive.”
“Girl, this dress is a steal!” Tee-Tee looked at her crazy. “It’s only ninety-nine dollars.”
“Yeah, like I just got ninety-nine dollars layin’ around.” Dylan wrinkled her brow.
“Well, you ain’t gon’ be coming around me lookin’ crazy, so I’ll buy it for you.”
“No, it is not that serious.”
“Girl, boo, I got you.”
“Tee-Tee, thank you,” Dylan said, hugging him around the neck.
“And you deserve a phone call from yo’ deadbeat baby daddy,” he eyed her sternly.
“Well, we can’t always get what we want.” Dylan looked down at her stomach somberly and rubbed her belly.
 
“If we ever come close again . . . I know what I’ll say then.”
Tevin Campbell, “Can We Talk”
2
New Year’s Eve had arrived and Billie’s party was in full swing. For the past hour, she’d been running around the house like a chicken with its head cut off. There were a million things going on at once. The chef was preparing a five-course meal. The party planner was decorating and setting the table. Billie’s kids, Kaylee, Kyrese, and Kenzie were running around like wild banshees, and Tee-Tee and Bernard hadn’t stopped arguing since they arrived.
Also to Billie’s dismay, her ex-husband, NFL star Cain, and his reality-show wife Puss ’n Boots aka Becky had arrived. Puss ’n Boots had been there for almost an hour, but Billie still couldn’t get past her attire. The chick looked like pop star Kesha on crack. Her overly dyed blond hair was fried and stringy. She’d bedazzled her right eye with blue rhinestones in the shape of a star. And her barelythere outfit consisted of a hot pink leotard, black tutu, lime green lace tights, and yellow combat boots.
Billie wanted to slap her for coming around her kids, let alone her new husband, Knox, dressed like that, but Billie wasn’t going to let Cain and his bimbo wife ruin her holiday. She had too much to be thankful for. She had three gorgeous kids and a yummy new husband who she loved more than life. Knox was the husband she’d always wanted Cain to be. He was selfless, calm, understanding, and toe-curling good in bed. Half of their honeymoon was spent inside their hotel room. Knox was everything she wanted, and more.
“Babe,” Knox reached out and took her hand, “sit down and chill out. Why you runnin’ around so much?”
“’Cause it’s still a lot to be done. The table isn’t finished being set, and the food is nowhere near being done,” she sighed, rubbing her forehead.
“That’s what you hired all these people for, remember? They’re the ones that are supposed to be stressin’, not you.”
“But—”
“But nothin’,” Knox cut her off.
“No, babe, seriously, I really need to go check on the girls and make sure they haven’t gotten anything on their dresses.” She tried to walk away again.
“The girls just ran past me. They’re fine.
You
the one that need to calm down.”
“I feel like if I’m not involved, it won’t be done right. I just want everything to be perfect.”
“And it will be, as long as you’re here,” he guaranteed, smiling.
Billie couldn’t help smiling too. Knox always knew how to lift her spirits. Plus, his dashing good looks didn’t hurt. He was six feet three of mouth-watering sweet vanilla milkshake. His charming smile, luscious brown hair, and debonair style reminded her of Robin Thicke. Billie couldn’t get enough of him. He was a mixture of the boy next door and a hood boy from the block.
“How do you do that?” she asked with a pleased expression on her face.
“Do what?” He held her close.
“You
always
know when to say the right things to make me feel better.” She hugged him, then kissed his lips.
“You better stop before you make my dick hard.” Knox massaged her ass.
“I like it when you talk nasty to me, Daddy,” she grinned.
“And I like that dress you wearing even more.” He ran his hands down her hips.
Knox couldn’t get enough of his wife. To him, she was the sexiest woman on earth. Billie was a perfect size twelve, five feet eight, diva with diamond-shaped eyes. Whenever she smiled, a slight glimmer of a dimple graced her left cheek.
“Come on.” He took her hand. “Let’s go say hello to our guests.”
“Do we have to?” Billie whined.
“Yes, now bring yo’ ass.” He dragged her into the living room.
“Huh!” Billie groaned as she overheard Tee-Tee and his husband, Bernard, arguing.
Tee-Tee and Bernard were total opposites. Tee-Tee was loud and flamboyant, whereas Bernard was reserved and thugged out to the fullest. He rocked a mouth full of gold teeth and on a daily basis, he donned strictly white tees, jeans, and Tims.
“Why er’time we go out you gotta embarrass me, huh? You ain’t always got to show yo’ ass, Teyana,” Bernard whispered, hoping no one would overhear.
“Bitch, you mad?” Tee-Tee jerked his head back. “I can’t help it if I’m a diva.” He sashayed around in a circle so he could put his sexy outfit on full display.
Tee-Tee was rockin’ the hell out of a skintight, snake print, spandex dress, and nude Louboutin heels.
“If that dress was any shorter, you’d be arrested for crack!” Bernard spat.
“My last man didn’t pay $10,000 for these silicone missiles for nothin!” Tee-Tee mashed his breast implants together. “Hell, how you think I pulled you? Now you wanna act brand-new ’cause you put a ring on it. Chile, please, I’m servin’ fish, honey, and this here ain’t trout!” He snapped his fingers in the air.
“You are actin’ like a real bitch right now,” Bernard fumed, folding his arms across his chest.
“What? Is
that
supposed to hurt me? I don’t care about you callin’ me a bitch as long as you put a
Miss
before it. Now
this
is me.” Tee-Tee posed like a mannequin. “Teyana aka Tee-Tee aka The Original Suzanne Sugarbaker all day er’day, so if you don’t like it, then, oh . . . well.” Tee-Tee twirled his index finger in Bernard’s face.
“You know me, I’ll be on to the next one on-on to the next one.” He sang doing the ole school dance called the Prep.
“Teyana, now you stop that!” Bernard stomped his foot. “You ain’t gotta show out like that. You know I love you. You my ride-or-die chick. What I say in my vows?
Lie together, cry together, I swear to God I hope we fuckin’ die together.”
“Boy, stop before I have to take my panties off,” Tee-Tee grinned softening up, “wit’ yo’ fine ass.”
“See. This is the reason I didn’t want to come in here,” Billie turned to Knox.
“Be easy, Ma. They’re your family,” he laughed.
“Unfortunately,” she pouted. “All I know is I’ll be glad when Dylan gets here.” Just then, the doorbell rang.
Billie’s maid Zoila answered the door.
“Mrs. Christianson—” Billie’s maid called out.
“Zoila,” she snapped, stomping her foot. “How many times do I have to tell you it’s Mrs. Townsend? I’m only Mrs. Christianson on paper. To the world and for business purposes, I am still known as Mrs. Townsend, okay?”
“I sorry.” Zoila replied in broken English.
Knox stood by Billie’s side utterly embarrassed. The fact that Billie wouldn’t take his last name made him feel less than the man he was. And it really messed him up that she would even want to keep her last husband’s surname after the way he dogged her.
“I came to tell ju that jur brother is here,” Zoila continued.
“What?” Billie said shocked.
“What up, big sis?” Angel came around the corner with his arms held out for a hug.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, walking into his embrace. “I thought you were gonna be in Vegas.”
“Nah, I couldn’t bring in the New Year without my family.” He hugged her tightly.
“I wish you would’ve said something,” Billie said, thinking of Dylan who would be arriving any second.
“I wanted you to be surprised.”
“Oh, I’m surprised all right.” She hugged him back.
“Let me reintroduce you to someone.” Angel stepped to the side. “You remember Milania, right.”
Billie’s eyes grew wide like saucers.
So this is why he been playin’ Dylan to the left, ’cause he got a new chick
.
“Hi,” she quickly spoke. “Umm, we need to talk,” Billie said, turning her attention back to Angel.
“Uh . . . ah . . . what the hell is
he
doing here?” Tee-Tee sashayed over to them, wagging his finger in the air. “I thought you said he wasn’t coming.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Damn, did I do something? ’Cause y’all actin’ like I’m the Grinch who stole Christmas.” Angel looked around confused.
“Nigga . . . don’t . . . act . . . stupid!” Tee-Tee waved his index finger like a snake ready to spit venom.
“Tee-Tee, calm down.” Billie pushed him back. “I got this. Angel, it’s not that we’re not happy to see you.”
“Speak for yourself,” Tee-Tee said underneath his breath.
Billie cut her eyes at him and said, “It’s just that considering everything that’s going on—”
“Everything like what?” Angel asked, still puzzled.
“Baby,” Milania chimed in, “why don’t we just go? It’s obvious we’re not wanted here.”
“My brother’s always welcome,” Billie interjected, shooting her the evil eye. “Now, if you’d like to stay, champagne and caviar are being served in the other room.”
“A’ight, but we need to talk,” Angel said, still perplexed by everyone’s odd behavior.
“Oh, we will,” Billie reassured him.
Once Angel and Milania were out of view, Billie raced up the steps to her bedroom. She had to stop Dylan from coming before she got there and had her heart ripped from her chest. Billie quickly dialed her number but got no answer. After trying five more times, she sat on the edge of the bed, wondering what to do next when she heard the sound of the doorbell ring.
“Shit!” she shrieked, making a mad dash for the door.
Billie hit the steps and saw Zoila walking toward the door.
“I got it!” She raced down the steps in six-inch heels.
“Okay,” Zoila shrugged.
Out of breath, Billie smoothed down her dress and opened the door. “Hey, girl. What you doing here so early?” She poked her head through the crack of the door.
“What are you talkin’ about?” Dylan eyed her baffled. “I’m late, and why are you huffin’ and puffin’?” She tried to come inside.
“We gotta talk,” Billie whispered, pushing her back.
“Bitch, are you high? If you don’t let me in . . .” Dylan tried pushing past her again. “It’s cold.”
“Listen,” Billie whispered.
“Who you talkin’ to?” Angel said from behind.
“Huh?” Billie spun around, slamming the door in Dylan’s face. “That was . . . one of them damn Jehovah Witnesses.” She placed her hand on her hip. “You would think ’cause it’s a holiday they would have the day off.”
“Billie, open the goddamn door!” Dylan banged her fist on the door.
“Is that Dylan?” Angel looked at his sister.
“You know what?” She raised her hand and slapped her thigh. “I think it is.” She swallowed hard. “I’ll get it. Why don’t you go back in the living room with the others?”
“I’m good.” He pushed his sister aside and opened the door.
“What the hell is yo’ problem?” Dylan yelled expecting to see Billie but instead, came face-to-face with Angel’s warm brown eyes.
“Angel,” she said, taken aback by his presence.
A mixture of anger and lust raced through her veins. She wanted to slap him and fuck him all at the same time. Dylan knew that one day they would see each other again, but to see his face and be so close to him that she could reach out and touch him took the wind out of her. Nothing had changed about him. It had only gotten better. Angel was drop-dead gorgeous. The sight of him alone caused her pussy to cream.
“Come in.” He extended his hand.
“I’m good.” She rolled her eyes, remembering how he’d played the fuck outta her by not responding to her message.
Bypassing him, she entered the house and spotted Billie.
“So
that’s
why you were actin’ so crazy?” she asked, referring to Angel.
“Yeah,” Billie whispered, pulling Dylan by the arm. “I tried callin’ you. As a matter of fact, why don’t you come upstairs with me so I can show you these Manolo’s I bought the other day.”
“Nah, I think me and Angel need to speak first. I got a couple of things I need to get off my chest.” Dylan unbuttoned her coat, revealing the form-fitting Rachel Roy dress she wore underneath.
Angel’s forehead immediately scrunched, almost causing his eyebrows to meet. Dylan had always been curvaceous, but in the months since he’d last seen her, her body had blossomed in all the right places. Her breasts were more than a mouthful. They were plump and juicy like two ripe melons, and her hips and ass rivaled Jessica Rabbit. He wondered what had brought on this sudden weight gain. Dylan prided herself on being a size four.
“You wanna come with me upstairs,” she tilted her head toward the steps.
“Yeah, ’cause we most definitely need to talk.”
Inside the twins’ room, Dylan closed the door behind her. She’d promised herself that the next time she saw or heard from Angel that she would give him a piece of her mind.
“You got something you need to tell me?” he eyed her suspiciously.
“No, the real question is, what’s going on wit’ you? I mean, I know we’re not together anymore, but I expected more from you than this.”

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