Bitch (15 page)

"Precious, what's up? You got a minute?" I immediately recognized Inga's voice and everything inside of me want ed to hang up the phone on her. We hadn't spoken to each other since our meeting in the city, and I had no interest in speaking to her. When she revealed that her and Porscha were now talking, which in my mind meant trading information, I didn't want nothing to do with Inga.

"Yeah, I got a minute, and that's about it."

"Well, then let me get right to it. I need some money." I had to step back from my phone to make sure I heard Inga correctly.

"Excuse me. Did I hear you correctly?"

"Yes. You were the only person I knew to call for help."

"Before I even respond, what happened to the fifty G's I gave you less than six months ago?"

"It's gone. I had to buy a car and to get some things for me and the baby."

"Inga, the baby ain't even here yet and you spent all the money. What type of car did you buy?"

"That don't matter, Precious, the point is, I don't have no more, and the baby will be here in a couple of months. So I was hoping you could hit me off wit' a hundred thousand."

"I don't have a hundred thousand, and even if I did, I wouldn't give it to yo' simple ass."

"You ain't gotta call me no names, neither. I just figured since you stole that million from Nico, the least you could do was put a hundred thousand in my pocket, since you are responsible for making my unborn child fatherless." With that said I was tempted to break the promise I made to myself of staying out of Brooklyn so I could go whip Inga's ass.

"I don't know what kind of slick shit you tryna pop, but I didn't steal no million dollars from Nico. I'm tryna maintain out in these streets just like you. So whateva you heard or you think you know is all bullshit. As for your bastard child being fatherless, you gonna have to take the charge on that for being a stupid bitch."

"Precious, you always thought you were hot shit and you still do. You walk these streets not thinking about nobody but yourself. But bitch, you can't hide forever.

"You think you can break outta Brooklyn and leave everybody behind and forget about all the havoc you caused. You the reason Ritchie is dead, you the reason that Nico is locked up and my instincts tell me you responsible for Boogie and your moms, death too. But all your scheming is going to come back on you and you gon' take it in blood."

"Fuck you, Inga!" I bellowed before throwing my cell across the room where it shattered against the wall. I was getting closer to going over the edge. I immediately threw on my clothes, grabbed my purse and headed out the door.

As I hurried through the Mall toward the T-Mobile store to replace my cell phone, a cherry red halter dress hanging in a window caught my eye. It had a wood o-ring and asymmetric lattice hem. At that moment, I decided to go to the album release party tonight and shake my ass with Rhonda.

Never one to be on time, I arrived when the party was about to end. I had called Rhonda and told her I was on my way, and now two hours later, I was just getting to the front door of the club. There were a few people on the same time schedule as me who were also just arriving.

As I was walking in, a group of people rushed pass me to a waiting Suburban. I glanced to see who it was since there was a chaotic buzz surrounding them. In an intense second my eyes locked with a sexy looking dude.

"You need to come in, Miss. there are people wait ing behind you," the humongous bouncer demanded and snapped me out of the love connection I had just made.

When I turned back around, the Suburban had driven off. I guess it wasn't meant to be I thought to myself.

"There you are," Rhonda said as she greeted me at the door. "That sure was a long I'm on my way, Precious."

"Sorry, girl, but time is neva on my side."

"It was time well spent," Rhonda said as she glanced over my outfit." "That dress is fierce."

"I know right, it was actually my motivation for coming out tonight. I saw it and had to rock it. I wish I would've gotten here earlier `cause it seem like it was cute."

"Yeah, it was. All the A-list celebrities we invited showed up.

"Where's the guest of honor."

"You just missed him." Damn, could the sexy ma fuckah I made eye contact wit 'been Supreme. There was something familiar about him. Nah, that couldn't of been that nigga, I thought to myself. "Come over to my table and have a couple of drinks before the party is officially over.

Although Rhonda had invited me to a few industry parties, this was the first one I ever came to. It definitely wasn't like the clubs in Brooklyn. The people in here gave off this aura of being on some real phony Hollywood typeshit. For the hour I was there, Rhonda spent half that time giving fake-ass hugs and kisses to a few motherfuckers that she obviously didn't like.

Everybody's favorite departing line was "I'll call you, let's do lunch." With all that said, the music was off the hook, the club was hot and, for the most part, the people were fly.

For the next few weeks, Rhonda and I lived on the party scene. After that one night I'd become addicted. There was this raw energy that engulfed you running in those circles. Since I had money to blow, I kept bottles of Cristal flowing at every club we went to. Rhonda would constantly joke with me and say, "Who was your ex-man? Was he on some New Jack City, Nino Brown type shit?"

I would just laugh and pop the next bottle. Something about Rhonda was really cool, though. I digged her so much that I even paid for her to get a complete makeover, which included hair, makeup and a new wardrobe. Rhonda was a semi-cute girl, she reminded me of a book smart version of Brandy. After we finished her makeover, she turned into the R&B version. Rhonda was overwhelmed by my generosity and her appreciation numbed all the different emotions that were swimming through my body.

"Precious, Funk Master Flex's annual car show is coming up," Rhonda informed me while we were having dinner at Houston's. The Hawaiian steak I was devouring tasted so good that it took me a moment to even listen to what Rhonda was saying.

"Car show," I finally said, right before taking another bite.

"Yeah, he has it every year. This year it's going to be at the Convention Center in Atlantic City on June 25 and 26. I think we should go."

"That's next weekend. I'm down."

I'd never been to a car show before, and back when I worked at Boogie's car detailing shop, the niggas would come through to get they rides extra fly to show up at Flex's shit. Now I would be attending so I had to be on point. I had plenty of ice, but I went and purchased a few new pieces of bling to rock.

By accident, I found this Dominican spot called Hair Guild and the beautician blew out my hair so it was bone straight but with just the right amount of bounce. I had a closet full of clothes that I hadn't worn yet, but I still had to get a couple of new outfits just in case I didn't like anything I had at home.

Truth be told, I was hoping to find me a dude at the car show. Not to be my man but to fuck. The last time I had some dick was when I fucked Nico the night he killed Ritchie. That was months ago, and I was horny as shit. Rhonda didn't have the same problem as me because she had a boyfriend named Amir. He was a corny nigga, but he seemed like he was putting it down.

I can remember a couple of occasions when I was shaken from my sleep by the sounds of Rhonda screaming his name. Sometimes that shit would get me so turned on, I would have to finger myself until I had an orgasm and then fall back to sleep. I was tired of pleasing myself. I needed some good dick.

I was the epitome of a straight baller bitch when we pulled up on the scene in my spankin' clean Benz. Instead of putting on one of my many over-the-top outfits, I kept it simple and let my body and accessories speak for me. I had on some fitting just right Apple Bottom jeans with a crisp white tank top and some open-toe stilettos. With my ears, neck and wrist dripping in diamonds it was enough said. All I heard was loud whispers of people trying to figure out who I was. I put an extra strut in my walk as I parlayed through the crowd. All eyes were on me and the bitches were all hating. I couldn't blame them, because if I wasn't me I would be hating, too.

"Precious, this place packed. Everybody up in here."

"Tell me about it, there are so many cuties I don't know where to start."

"I do," Rhonda said all bold.

"Girl, shut up. You got a man."

"So what? You think I'm letting all this go to waste on one man. Oh, please."

"Ain't this some shit. You get a makeover and you `un turned into a hot-ass bitch. It was something in your eyes that always told me there was a hoe underneath there."

"You got that right. And I will forever be grateful to you, Precious, for helping me discover it." I looked at Rhonda sideways, not sure if I wanted to take credit for that. I knew what type of trouble you could get in by being a hot tamale. I hoped that Rhonda wouldn't make the mistake of biting off more than she could chew. "Stay right here, Precious, I see this guy that I've been dying to meet. I'll be back."

In that quick second, Rhonda left me standing alone, while she went and chased some dick. I couldn't be mad at her because technically I was on the same mission; she just beat me to the punch.

Dudes kept pimping past me and the closer they got, they would slow down and make eye contact to try to get a vibe if I was interested or not. I would smack my lips and roll my eyes so they would keep it moving. Then a pair of eyes met mine and a sense of familiarity came over me.

"Didn't I see you outside a club about a month ago?" the sexy ma'fuckah asked me as a few of his homeboys and a couple of bodyguards lingered beside him.

"Aren't you the rapper, Supreme?"

"Yeah, that's me," the mellow-toned MC replied. "Aren't you the young lady that was going into the club as I was leaving?"

"Yeah, that was me. You remember that." I said, surprised that he did.

"Of course, I'd never forget a face as beautiful as yours."

Now I never considered myself to be no groupie bitch. Even with all the hustler's I fucked with, I just wrote that off as me liking niggas with heavy pockets. I've watched videos and flipped through magazines seeing all these rap stars and other celebrities, and yes, the curiosity of how they lived was always there. But it wasn't that deep for me because where I came from, I was the hood superstar. I represented for my borough the same way these so-called celebrities represented for they clique.

Their fan base just so happened to reach millions of people where mine only reached thousands. But the feeling of being on top was still the same. So when Supreme was standing in front of me saying how beautiful I was, I wasn't sure if my pussy was getting extra wet because he was a rap superstar or because he was a sexy ma'fuckah. Or maybe it was a combination of both.

"Why you tryna make me blush in front of all these people out here?"

"That wasn't my intention. What I wanted was for you to walk with me, talk with me and then, hopefully exchange numbers with me. But that might be asking too much. What do you think?"

"Truthfully, I want to leave with you, be with you and hopefully chill with you for a long time." Before I could hear his response Rhonda was back.

"What's up, Supreme?" she said giving him a hug.

"Just so you know, I work with her-that's it," he said not wanting me to feel uncomfortable.

"Supreme, that's my roommate. You don't have to explain yourself."

"Word. You guys live together? Damn, Rhonda you never told me you had this at home," Supreme pointed to me with his hands in a display position as if he was a game show host."

"She came to your album release party, but I think you had already left."

"Yeah, we made eye contact on my way out. Then I was blessed to see her once again today. Damn, baby, I didn't even get your name yet."

"Precious."

"That name fits you perfectly. So are you going to walk with me or what?"

"That depends. Are you going to leave with me, be with me and chill with me?"

"You didn't even have to ask me that twice. I heard you the first time and the answer is no doubt."

With that I took Supreme's hand and spent the entire duration of the car show as his date. Instead of staying in the hotel room with Rhonda I stayed with him in his suite at the Borgata. The first night, after all of us, including Rhonda, went out for dinner and drinks, I was ready to catch up for the sex drought I had been on.

After taking a shower I laid in the bed next to Supreme ready to do all sorts of tricks with my tongue, but he stopped me before I even made it to the nipples on his chest. "Precious, I just want you to fall asleep in my arms."

"I can do that right after we fuck."

"Baby, I don't want to fuck you?"

"What you mean you don't want to fuck me? What is something wrong wit' me or something?" I asked, feeling embarrassed that the nigga was turning me down.

"Precious, look at me," he said grabbing my face.

"Physically, you're perfect. And I want you in every way. When we become intimate, I don't want us to fuck. I want us to make love. There is a big difference. Precious, I'm truly feeling you. I was connected to you in just that brief moment we locked eyes in front of the club.

"You're special and I want our relationship to be special. That means taking our time and getting to know one another. That means getting past the lust and learning to appreciate what's on the inside. Will you do that with me, Precious? Take our time so we can build something real?"

I stared into Supreme's dark mysterious eyes in total confusion. No man had ever asked to get to know me as a person before. When I was ready to get twisted out, so were they. Here was this rap star, that probably had more pussy tossed his way than the law deemed legal, telling me that he wanted us to wait and get to know each other better first. His request seemed so pure that it was frightening to me. I didn't know how to respond, so I snuggled my warm body underneath his arms and fell asleep.

Ore Lii

Supreme was successful in getting me to do that. But I also had to admit to myself that the thought of having genuine feelings for him was scaring me. It was too late for that, though. I'd spent the last hour lying in my bed, staring at a picture we took at the car show, just missing him.