Brooklyn Brothel (8 page)

I leaned back for a second until I saw Mike’s car stop in front of Betty’s. I got excited the moment I saw him. He opened his door, got out, and fixed his tailored-linen short set. When I switched my focus back to the camera man, he was gone.

“Let’s go talk to Mike,” I said, almost breaking my nail tryna rush from the car.

Seeing Mike was like a breath of fresh air. I felt so confused, with so much to run past him. I wanted to mention the guy with the camera ’cause that just didn’t seem right. Also, the fact that we were locked in at night still troubled me. It had me on edge and very emotional.

We walked right up on him. “Hey Mike.” I slapped
him on the shoulder for a friendly greetin’. He could tell I was glad to see his fine chocolate ass. I noticed the nice bracelet on his arm, and thick gold chain danglin’ from the middle of his chest. He obviously liked jewelry the way I did.

“So, how’s it going? I heard you’re doing great.”

“I was until I got locked in last night.”

Mike’s eyebrows crinkled. Then he chuckled a bit. “You didn’t know, huh? They normally don’t tell the girls.”

“Tell us what?” I badgered.

“You ladies get locked in every night after about two a.m. There’s a padlock put on the door until morning.”

“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me. I switched into one of my rebellious modes, ready to confront Betty. I thought about my life. “What if there was a fire?” I shouted. “I gotta son, damn it. I’m not gonna stay if I gotta be locked in!”

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I could tell Mike had pity for me. I didn’t wanna get Cinnamon in trouble so I told her to stay away from me, I was going to talk to Betty. I told myself Betty needed to get told, not in a disrespectful sorta way…she just needed to know I didn’t wanna be locked in at night.

I brushed past Mike feelin’ like a rebel. By the time I made it to the top step, the door was openin’ up automatically for me. I didn’t know who had opened it, and didn’t care. Ultimately, when I stepped inside the foyer, Betty was standin’ there with an evil look plastered across her face.

“Betty, can we talk?”

“Why the fuck are you out the house so soon? Don’t try to come up in here and change the rules ’cause I don’t like that shit.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

“Then what the fuck is it? Is it about making money?”

“Sorta.” I cleared my throat, gettin’ my nerves right, and decidin’ the best way to approach the situation. With a
firm voice, I said it. “You had me locked in 2A last night. Pad lock I was told.”

She pranced toward her office with another one of her long-ass dresses on. “And,” she announced, lookin’ back ova her shoulder.

My tone toward her changed. “I can’t do this. I gotta son who needs me, Betty,” I pleaded. “What if there is a fire? What if somethin’ happens where I need to get out and can’t?” My voice deepened more and more with each sentence. “We need to get Bo on the phone!”

I was so proud of myself. I didn’t allow Betty’s frown to intimidate me. At that point I was ready to pack my shit, and have Mike to take me the bus station. There were otha in-houses I could work for a few days, just until I raised the money I needed.

Within minutes, Betty had gotten Bo on the phone. We were sittin’ in our same exact seats as we did when I checked in. I looked Betty in the eye as she told Bo that I had a problem with one of her rules. Betty told some lie about a girl that left out late at night searchin’ for drugs. She said the girl got raped, and beat up which brought heat to her, ’cause the girl said she was livin’ with Betty in Bensonhurst. She laughed like she was outta breath as she bragged to Bo.

“Of course I had my men throw the bitch out. Her pimp ended up getting a bad rep with a couple other in-houses too,” she added.

She went on to make fun of me, sayin’ I must’ve had somewhere to go after two a.m., ’cause the padlocks didn’t go on until after that. She joked sayin’, “You know there’s an old saying, there’s nothing open after two a.m.…but somebody’s legs.”

Her expression lightened up somewhat; almost as if she and Bo had a connection. All I heard were, “Ummm huh, Oh I see…okay…will do.”

She made small talk with Bo for a few more seconds, then lit a cigar right in front me of. That meant only one thing, the conversation was about somethin’ profitable for Betty. I sat tryna make out the good and bad within her words, while the rich, deep aroma of the tobacco that somehow reminded me of spices, filled my nose.

Abruptly, Betty handed me the phone.

Bo started shoutin’, “Betty got good damn reason for lockin’ them damn doors! Hoes will be hoes! Anyway, how much money you made so far?”

I stuttered…“I made $750 last night and $600 the night before.”

“You got it all on you, baby?” His voice softened like the sweet Bo I knew.

“Yeah…my cut. I split with Betty.”

His voice rose again. “Bitch, give all that damn money ta Betty right now!”

“For what?” I countered, raisin’ my voice too.

“She need ta keep it for sake keepin’. All of it. Your stupid-ass got to New York and gone plum crazy. Hand it ova right now while I’m on the phone!”

I looked ova at Betty who wanted to smile. She leaned back in her swiveled chair blowing smoke in the air. She was just an evil old woman in my book. I started rummagin’ through my purse searchin’ for the money. I knew how much I had, but would keep the sixty I’d made in tips.

“Why I gotta do this Bo? Half of that shit is mine?”

“Stop back-talkin’ and count it up. Don’t miss one red cent. She’ll give us our cut when you get ready ta leave. Now, how much you givin’ her!” he shouted, keepin’ me from thinkin’ clearly.

“Seven-fifty,” I said softly.

“Hell to the naw! What about the $300 from the otha night?”

“Bo, I had to buy some personal stuff.” I was so emotional, almost in tears.

“You stashin’ money bitch? I hope not. If I got ta send somebodyyyy ta do a shake down, it’s gon’ be baddddddddd!”

’Of course I’m not Bo. We in this together,” I pleaded. “I used about $60.00 just to live…you know condoms, shampoo, and stuff like that.”

“Just hand ova what’cha got.” He paused. “I love ya gurl. I can’t wait ta see ya.”

I threw the money across the table to Betty with an attitude. I sniffled a bit tryna hold the tears inside. “Bo, did any mail come for me from the courts? Dre said he already filed papers to get Carlton. The court date is comin’ up,” I mumbled, hopin’ Betty wasn’t all in my business.

Bo’s next set of words hurt me to my heart.

“I don’t wanna hear no shit ’bout your son! You betta make me some damn money!”

My heart hardened for Bo at that very moment. I slammed the phone down, got up and headed up the stairs while the tears streamed. I was hurt. A deep down hurt that couldn’t be mended. I cried so hard there was no way to catch all the mucus gushin’ from my nose.

Chapter 6

The hot-ass sun
had finally gone down for the day, and was replaced with several, thick grey clouds. My day had been nothin’ more than terrible since the Bo ordeal earlier in the mornin’. The rain had been poundin’ the New York area since about two o’clock, so naturally business had been slow. I sat in the great room lookin’ like a lost puppy while the otha girls crowded around Serita’s lap top that she’d let us borrow. Supposedly we were under a severe thunderstorm watch.

I guess the torrential rains we were gettin’ kept the customers away. I only had the pleasure of servicin’ two guys the whole day, and once Serita announced we would shut down at nine, it put me into a deep funk.

I wanted to ask Serita why they would shut down just because of a thunderstorm warnin’. I needed to make money! I’d spent most of my day, runnin’ back and forth shampooin’ my pussy, and writin’ Dre a long letter in between fightin’ for clients, and actually layin’ on my back.

Cinnamon strutted out of the room farthest to the wall. She’d snagged some Arabian man that came in with a turban and a foot fetish. When he started sniffin’ at our feet, I told him fuck no, and had been sittin’ down eva since.

“He was worthhhhhhhh it girl,” Cinnamon bragged, ploppin’ down in the seat next to me.

“How much?” I asked with my hater face plastered on.

“$400,” she sang, while flashin’ the money in my face. “And guess what, Serita will think I only made $200,” she laughed.

I shook my head realizin’ I had fucked up. I had let my situation with Bo ruin my attitude for the day, which was affectin’ my cash flow.

Cinnamon began askin’ me ’bout what I was gonna do when I got back home. I told her Bo’s time in my life was limited. I needed him just to show that I had a man livin’ with me…we were the happy couple and would be gettin’ married soon. Once I convinced the judge of that bullshit, I was gonna leave Bo for sure.

“Listen, I hate to tell you this, but you know when you get back to PA, Bo is gonna take every dime you made, right?”

I glared up at Cinnamon with a strange expression. She really believed what she was sayin’. “Nah, not Bo. He just wants to live this pimp life for now. It’s not who he really is.” I stopped to clear my throat. “He’s rough around the edges, but he wouldn’t do that to me.”

“He’s a pimp Co-Co. A fuckin’ pimp. They’re all the same. They will take all your money and give you what they want you to have. I mean…I got lucky. My pimp is pretty decent, but he still takes all the money, and gives me what he thinks I need.”

Cinnamon jumped up from the couch tryin’ to make her point. Her hands rested just below her waist-line. “I guarantee you, when you get off the bus with the money Betty sends, he’s gonna search every crease and hole on your body, making sure you not stashing money.”

I shook my head lettin’ her know I wasn’t buyin’ it.

“Stop being so naive and listen to me,” she warned. “Just remember this, at least roll all your tip money up, put it in a condom, and stuff it in your pussy before you get on the bus. When Bo picks you up from the terminal, act like you gotta pee badly. I mean really do the acting thing. When you get home, run to the bathroom, look the door, and stash the
money for when you need it most. You will eventually need it,” she said in an alarmin’ tone.

I listened hard, but had otha issues. Betty was on her way back in the room to see me again. I saw her big-ass struttin’ my way. Cinnamon hopped up, and jetted across the room with the otha girls, avoidin’ Betty at any cost.

I’d had enough of Betty and Serita. They had been keepin’ a close watch on me all day. After every date, Serita or Betty would stand at the door with their hands out. All the girls would watch wonderin’ what kinda deal I had set up. It was so degradin’. I would give them their share, Bo’s cut, and keep any tips I’d earned.

In all, I’d made $750 for the day, told them $500 though. Not only did I stash the extra $250, but kept the tips too.

Betty walked up on me like the police. “You get those last two guys?”

“Nope. They didn’t choose me.”

She eyed me like she didn’t believe me.

“I didn’t Betty. Every guy isn’t gonna want me. Some like’em dark, some like’em light. I guess I wasn’t the one.”

Betty didn’t believe me one bit, but her next few comments had me seein’ her in a different light. It made me think she wasn’t all that bad.

“Look Co-Co. I know you’re keeping a lil’ money for yourself. If you won’t tell, I won’t. As long as I get my cut, I’m good. This is why I really don’t like dealing with girls who have pimps. It’s better when there’s no middle man.”

My eyes lit up. What was she gettin’ at?

“I’ll tell you what,” she continued. “Once you get back home. Give it a few weeks, dump him, and come back to work for me on your own.” She scribbled her number on a crumbled up piece of paper and handed it to me. She still neva smiled, but did show me she understood my struggle.

A couple of hours later, I sat propped of in my bed with two pillows behind me drinkin’ and cryin’ at the same time. I had literally broken down. I scratched myself continuously until my skin turned purple. Sasha grabbed my wrist trying to stop me. Without knowin’ that reality had set in, she tried everything she could to cheer me up. She even gave me her $300 favorite human hair wig that I had admired just the day before.

I thanked her for the wig multiple times ’cause I really loved it. But it wouldn’t take away the reality. I’d allowed myself to become a whore all at the expense of makin’ some pimp named Bo Rich, wealthy at my expense. I was gonna take Betty’s offer at face value.

Sasha got up on my bed, rubbed my shoulders, and handed me another drink. I took it, and several othas after that. Before long, Sasha’s phone rang. It was her daughter calling to say goodnight. When I realized it was almost ten ‘o’clock, I begged her to let me call Carlton from her phone before he went to bed. The timin’ was perfect. The otha girls had decided to head to the kitchen to cook up some food and have a mini-storm party since we shut down early. Of course, I thought it was stupid, and preferred cryin’ and sulkin’ in my bed.

When the phone rang, I got all jumpy.

I had to have the perfect attitude to handle Dre. Luckily, Carlton answered the phone, which made me feel like things were lookin’ up. He sounded so happy with his sweet innocent voice.