All Or Nothing (12 page)

Mike grinned, “Oh yeah. My bad!”

“Yeah, that’s what you said that night, too.”

“Aiight, so now we even.” Mike laughed.

“Mike, we’ll get up another time,” Cinnamon promised. “I got some business to handle tonight.”

“I’m holding you to that,” he warned. “The next time I see you, it’s on. I ain’t tryin’ to hear none of that other shit, either.”

For the most part, Mike was cool with Cinnamon’s decision. He was just trying his hand, seeing what he could get into. He was the type of guy who believed in getting in where you fit

in. Being turned down was a small thing to him. Anyway, he already had her. Mike was out there slumming, tonight looking for some new pussy.

Taking in his surroundings in the club, Mike knew something was going to pop off for him tonight. One thing he knew about women: when one won’t, one will. He just had to find that one. One thing Mike was sure of, there was no way in hell he was leaving the club empty handed. No way.

In the VIP area, Shantell was one of many strippers giving lap dances. Most dancers would agree that this was a bad working environment. They only felt that way because, it was too wide open, too many prying eyes were cast upon them. The place was small and crowded, but Shantell had to deal with it. Unlike a lot of strip clubs in Charlotte, Peaches and Cream’s VIP section wasn’t secluded at all. This made it hard on a scandalous stripper to earn an extra couple dollars by committing some lewd sex act.

This is what Shantell had to deal with ever since she left Lisa. She felt in order to break totally free from Lisa, she had to avoid her. Avoiding Lisa meant working elsewhere, which resulted in her having to grind harder. Suddenly, money was tight.

“Damn, girl, you healthier than all outdoors, I swear!” The fat man admitted. “You dating?”

Seductively Shantell smiled at the stranger she was grinding on. She had no interest in the man whatsoever, only his money; but her smile suggested otherwise. Shantell was the great pretender. She was always able to summon a convincing seductive look whenever she needed to. Shantell understood the name of the game was to put the customer at ease and make him feel attractive, even if they weren’t.

“Holla, at me later, Big Daddy,” she said. “We’ll talk.”

Shantell collected her money and fled to the locker room. She felt something wet on her thigh. If she had to guess, it was semen. The thought alone repulsed her, so inside the locker room she wiped herself off with baby wipes and rubbing alcohol. After changing her outfits she hit the floor again, in an never-ending search for more money.

Meanwhile, Mike stood in front of the bar, tossing back drink after drink. He liked the vantage point that the bar offered. He could view the entire club from there; Mike had a light buzz going on, though he held his liquor well. Feeling good, Mike was spitting game at every stripper that passed. He said anything and everything that came to mind.

“Excuse, me I ain’t tryin’ to be funny or nuttin’, but you got the perfect dick-suckin’ lips. I’m sayin’…”

“Fuck you, nigga!” the stripper spat.

Mike laughed as he watched the stripper stomp off. Disrespecting them was recreation to him. He got away with things in the strip club that he would never dare attempt in the nightclub. Usually, strippers were thick skinned, but they were strange creatures.

Mike tossed insult after insult, direct and subliminal. Suddenly, everything changed when he spotted Shantell. He wasn’t about to let her pass or run her away, by saying something stupid. Shantell was his type: young, fine and healthy. To him, she was new meat. Mike hadn’t ever seen her. To make it plain, he was captivated by her. It was just something about Shantell that made him want her, at least for the night.

Immediately, he went into stunt mode. Reaching into his pocket, he grabbed a wad of cash. By the time Shantell reached him, Mike had a handful of large denomination bills, spread out like a fan, fanning himself with them.

The sight of the cold, hard cash easily caught Shantell’s attention. She stopped in her tracks.

“It’s crazy hot in here, right?” Mike cracked. “Want me to fan you?”

“Is that for me?” Shantell asked.

“Could be,” If you play you cards right.”

“I ain’t know we were playin’ cards,” she fired back. “I don’t like cards. You never know what card you gettin’ till you turn it over.”

“That’s why it’s so fun ‘Cause you never know?” Mike replied

“Well if you were in a deck of cards, which one would you be?” Shantell asked.

“The Ace of Spades, ‘cause I always come in handy,” he suggested. “I’ma good dude. It is whut it is wit me. All night I been tryin’ to figure out just whut I gotta say to these broads to make ‘em understand I’m real. They been dealin’ wit’ these lame-ass trick niggers for so long, they don’t recognize a real nigger.”

Two seconds into the conversation Shantell already knew where this stranger was from:, New York. She had never dealt with a real New Yorker. A lot of dudes in Charlotte claimed that they were from New York, but really weren’t. From what Shantell had heard from other strippers, ‘New York niggers tricked hard and heavy.

Shantell was from the hood; if one asked her, she would say, she had heard it all. She had seen game in many different forms, many times in the strip club; it was a matter of who had the better game: the stripper or the customer. Shantell knew the truth was sprinkled atop of a lot of game. It was up to her to decipher it, to separate the bullshit from the real shit. She liked what she saw, Mike was different and he had an unusual approach.

“Is some of dat for me?” she repeated.

Shantell decided to call his bluff early, just to see if he would part with some cash. After all, she was at work and she was looking to make some money. She decided that if Mike didn’t give her any money, then she had to move on. To her, time was money and she didn’t have no time to waste just talking.

“Hun, here you go, Ma,” Mike responded. He handed her a one hundred-dollar bill.

Quietly, Shantell was taken back by Mike’s simple act of generosity. This was the first time in her life that a male had ever given her money without her performing some sexual act. Though this may have been a small thing to Mike, it was big to her. He scored a lot of points with Shantell for this.

“Damn, you for real?” This is mine?”

Mike proudly announced, “Yeah, you can have it. That’s you.”

Shantell’s overexcitement gave her away. Mike knew he had her now. There was no doubt she was hooked, now he just had to reel her in slowly.

“That’s some real shit right there,” Shantell gushed. “Nigger’s ain’t doin’ it like that ‘round here.”

“You ain’t never met nobody like me. I’ma real nigger! Yo, you want sumthin’ to drink? Anything you want, on me.”

“I can’t drink.” Shantell replied. “They don’t allow dancers to drink while they workin’.”

Suddenly, the bar area started to get crowded. Mike started to feel a little claustrophobic so he grabbed her hand and led Shantell to a nearby table. It was there that they began to really get to know each other on a more personal level.

Their conversation seemed to flow effortlessly. For hours, Mike and Shantell kept each other company. She could see that he had deep pockets, but money wasn’t the only thing that kept Shantell there. One thing she loved about him was that Mike was very humorous. He kept her laughing all night long. Mike was a sarcastic bastard with a good sense of humor. With all the tragedy that had surrounded her life, Shantell needed a reason to smile; and Mike was it.

“Nigga, you too good to be true. We been sittin’, rappin ’ and you been givin’ me money, but you ain’t cracked for no sex. What’s up wit’ that?” Shantell questioned.

“Yo, you get niggers comin’ at you like dat all day, everyday,” Mike stated. “Why can’t I be different?”

after Mike’s statement, they both went silent as his words sunk in. Shantell felt there was some truth in that. Mike was right;, she was getting tired of sex-starved guys trying to get with her every time she walked into the club. That was getting old.

Unfortunately it was all game. Mike was just coming from a different angle. His thing was that everybody had a dream that they were trying to fulfill. Mike just had to find out just what Shantell’s aspirations in life were and if she didn’t have a dream, he sure would sell her one.

“Yo, whut you doin’ right now?” Mike suddenly asked. “Why don’t we get up outta here?”

His statement took Shantell by surprise. She usually didn’t leave the club with guys. Most of the time, she handled her business in or around the club. She was tempted to take the money and run. Since Mike was so nice and different, plus he still had a knot of money, she decided to take a chance.

“Where we goin’?”

“Look, you comin’ or what?”

“Alright, gimmie a minute to get dressed.”

Inwardly, Mike smiled to himself as Shantell fell right into his trap. He had succeeded in getting her out of her element.

In a flash, Shantell was gone. She went to the locker and put on her clothes. When she reappeared, they exited club. Shantell drew the stares of a few envious strippers. She knew they would be talking about her ass as soon as she left the club. She saw them but chose to ignore them. Shantell was too broke to care what anyone thought.

Outside the club, Mike’s beautiful, shiny platinum, fourdoor Range Rover Sport seemed to stand out amongst the rest of the vehicles. The SUV was his pride and joy. He pushed a button on his key ring and the Range Rover purred to life.

“This ya’ car?” Shantell asked.

“Whut you think? I’m drivin’ somebody else’s shit?” Mike snapped. “This is me! Damn, you wanna see my paperwork?”

Together they climbed inside the car and after fastening their seatbelts, Mike took off. Carefully he drove through the city streets. By the way he drove, one could tell he really cared for his car. He drove like he had nowhere to go. Taking his time, he avoided all the potholes and speed traps.

While Mike drove, Shantell silently sat relaxed in her seat. From the passenger’s seat she silently admired the SUV’s lavish interior. Needless to say, she was impressed. She had never been in a car this fancy.

Maneuverings through the city streets, Mike made his way out of the hood and into upper class neighborhoods. From her seat, Shantell noticed the change in scenery. Though she was a resident of Charlotte, born and raised, she wasn’t familiar with this part of town.

Despite her best efforts to remain silent, Shantell couldn’t. She had to know their destination.

“So where we goin’?” She inquired.

“Ma, be easy,” Mike suggested. “Sometimes it’s not where you going, but who’s taken you’.”

Mike’s reassurance was enough for Shantell. She didn’t say another word. She decided to go with the flow.

Before long Shantell’s patience was rewarded. The couple wound up in somewhere in South Charlotte. The whole vibe over there was different from the rest of Charlotte. Everything was so clean and beautiful and peaceful.

Through the tinted windows, Shantell caught a glimpse of South Park Mall. As they cruised along Sharon road, suddenly Mike took a left onto Colony Road. If Shantell knew where they were going before, she didn’t know now.

After taking a quick right, Mike had finally reached his destination. Shantell was awestruck at what she saw; it was beautiful.

In the middle of a large fountain, there was a huge, aquagreencolored statue of two bald eagles with their wings spread wide. The artist captured them beautifully; they appeared to be soaring.

Shantell was mesmerized by the statue and the water which it sat in. After Mike parked, she got out the car to get a closer look. Though she had lived in Charlotte all her life, Shantell didn’t know that this spot existed. Mike had scored even more points with her. She hadn’t known him three hours and already he had shown her a whole different world.

In almost anyone’s opinion, this place was breathtaking. It was well lit and with pockets of darkness surrounding the fountain. The water itself was nicely lit. This was the kind of place one would bring a lover. Mike knew Shantell would enjoy the ambiance of the place.

As Shantell sat on the water’s edge, Mike slid up on her and sat close besides her. He was preparing himself to make his sales pitch. He was really going to get up close and personal.

“Shantell whut is it that you want out of life? You know you can’t dance forever? You got any plans?”

Though his line of question was small, his words pierced Shantell’s soul. He touched her. Nobody had ever bothered to ask her what she wanted to do with herself.

“To tell you the truth, Mike, I don’t even know. Right now, I’m just tryin’ to feed my daughter. As long as she alright, I’m alright.”

“You got any hidden talents? Any hobbies?” Mike inquired. “Somethin’ you love ta do, or would do for nuttin’?”

Shantell didn’t have to think long; immediately one thing came to mind. Shantell loved to sing. It wasn’t something she thought she could do it was something she knew she could do. Throughout her young life Shantell had sung. She sung when she was happy and when she was sad.

“Yeah, I do a little singing.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, check this out. I gotta partner of mine named Sowell. Him and his brother O own a club called Studio 74. Every Monday night they have a little amateur night contest for rappers and singers. I’ma give him a call and get you up on that stage.”
“For real?” She responded excitingly. “You’d do that for me?”

Shantell didn’t doubt that Mike was well connected. After all, he had some of the earmarks of success. He had money and an expensive car.

“Of course I would. I’m here to help you, not hurt you. Who am I to kill your dream?”

Mike looked into Shantell’s eyes. “My moms always told me, there are two kinds of people that are gonna enter yo’ life, givers and takers. Think about it. When somebody comes into yo’ life, they either gonna put food on yo’ table or take something off.”

Even if Shantell didn’t say it verbally, she had to admit that Mike had a point. There was no denying it, either.

“Well, I’m the type of nigger dat’s gonna put somethin’ on yo’ table!”