Dirty Old Men [And Other Stories] (Zane Presents) (58 page)

Thank you, Merciful Allah,
Khalif prayed.
Saleema is who I prayed to marry. And I will treat her well.

So when he turned to find Vinod’s second daughter, Saleema, who stood close by him, but not close enough to touch, he moved in her direction and took her hand in his with confidence.

Saleema looked into his handsome brown face with those glowing eyes of hers, and she searched his heart, finding that it was pure. He had chosen her over all others.

He asked her kindly and respectfully, “Do you wish for it to be, for my first Mrs. Muhammad?”

Saleema smiled calmly and melted his heart again. “Yes, I do wish it.” She had a natural sense of romance and coyness about her that he recognized now. She had devised a way to create the necessary emotions of universal
love, even inside the courtship of an arranged marriage. And love her, he would do.

Khalif felt giddy and hot as he held onto her hand. And he was certain that Saleema felt the positive energy through his palm. He was a satisfied man with a thoughtful and emotional choice.

Merciful Allah! This is a grand occasion, and a new beginning of my blessed life!
he proclaimed.

Before he knew it, the Siyamesh family began to clap and gather around them in a circle in the yard. Saleema then became bashful and pulled her hand away from him to cover up her tremendous smile.

“Congratulations!” they all stated.

“Salee-ma! Salee-ma!” her cousins began to yell.

“Welcome to the family, my brother,” the youngest brother Shyam stated. “Or should I begin to call you
nephew
now?”

Khalif immediately looked toward Vinod’s older daughter, Rani, to see how she would take it. She caught his eye and nodded to him with a smile. Kumar’s daughter, Sunita, nodded to him as well. And Shyam’s oldest daughter, Priya, was too busy being excited for Saleema to even care.

Vinod took Khalif by the shoulders and told him, “Good choice,” with a wink of his right eye. Then he led him away from the excited women to discuss it more in private.

“Saleema is so young for a first wife that you would have to wait nearly four years to marry again without causing too many problems in your household. So she is very happy now to have her own so young.”

“What about her feelings toward being married so young?” Khalif questioned. He still wondered about that.

Vinod reminded him, “This is not America, my friend. In
India,
we are not afraid of being married young. A young married couple is a
focused
couple. Then they go into the world and find their way.”

Kumar caught up with them in the yard and stated, “You’ve done it. You have restarted the rivalry of cousins. They have always thought that Saleema would be asked to be married
first.
However, she never seemed as interested in marriage as the rest of them. It must be her romance for an American,” he joked.

He was a big brother indeed, forever putting his own spin on things.

Vinod responded, “Don’t worry, Kumar, your daughters will get over it. And maybe Khalif will choose to marry one of the younger ones next time.”

Khalif chuckled at it himself. But he didn’t plan on marrying too many more of their daughters. If anything, he felt it would be more progressive to link himself to a new Muslim family somewhere else, maybe in the Middle East, or in Africa. But at the present, he was too happy with the prospect of his Indian bride-to-be for his mind to stray too far into the future. And as they were separated from each other in the yard of the estate, they continued to cut looks at each other through the joyful crowd.

Khalif had not felt that much family love since his younger years of boyhood, and before he knew that family members could have so many ulterior motives.

Yes indeed!
he told himself with swagger.
Saleema has plenty of passion in her heart. And she genuinely likes the idea of being involved with me.

He could read the passion burning through her eyes across the yard, and he couldn’t wait to feel every part of her for the rest of his life. He could already imagine her stating, “I
love
Khalif Raj Muhammad. I love my
family.
And I love my
life!
” And
mean
every
word
of it.

And whether it’s because I’m rich, or an American, or handsome, or whatever. I don’t really care anymore,
Khalif told himself as the family continued to celebrate around him.
This it what it means to have paradise. And I deserve to have it!

Omar Tyree is a
New York Times
best-selling author, an NAACP Image Award recipient, and a Phillis Wheatley Literary Award winner who has been cited by the City Council of Philadelphia for his work in urban literacy. He has published nineteen books with two million copies sold worldwide. With a degree in print journalism, Tyree has been recognized as one of the most renowned contemporary writers in America. Now entering the world of feature films, Tyree is a tireless creator and visionary of few limitations. For more information on his work and titles, please view his web site @
www.OmarTyree.com
.

B
ONUS
—A
NOTHER SEXY TREAT FROM
O
MAR
T
YREE
!

W
E HOPE YOU ENHOY THIS EXCERPT FROM

A
VAILABLE FROM
S
IMON
& S
CHUSTER

CHAPTER 10

Narcissism

T
O
L
UCINA’S SURPRISE
, two of her girls who were familiar with the Filipino and Mexican crowd of the southeast agreed to work with Ivan. And once Audrey and Christina had settled into the San Diego area as roommates, they were in on the deal as well. A thousand dollars a month to host wealthy, bodacious men during
Monday Night Football
once a week was an easy decision for all of them. Their rents would all be paid with just sixteen hours of work.

Ivan even had the girls do photo shoots wearing the featured teams’ opposing jerseys for the flyer, with Pittsburgh and Dallas as their first game. He then had Eddie K. work a deal to feature a sporting goods store on the sports spotlight page of the website, with a promise from the store’s manager to advertise their next sales specials on the site.

Ivan then solidified commitments from some of the Chargers he had met at the birthday party, as well as Emilio Alvarez and a few of his friends from the Padres, to attend his “
Monday Night Football
Bash at Raymond’s Hot Spot Lounge.”

Ivan even invited Julio out, while his neighbor promised to spread the word to more of his Mexican friends.

Thomas Jones called him from the Urban League offices after he had heard the ads on the radio.

“So, I see you worked out another deal with Raymond,” he commented.

Ivan told him, “Hey, man, I had to learn to get back up and ride that horse. It’s too much money to be made over there to leave it alone, you know.”

Thomas said, “Brother, you ain’t said nothing but a word. Get back over there and make it happen.”

O
N THE NIGHT
of the first big event, Ivan left work at the accounting offices early to make sure the large projection television was set up right and connected
to the stereo speaker system at the lounge. Before the game started, some of the crowd began to show up after work to catch the
ESPN Countdown
show.

Excerpt from
Pecking Order
(Simon & Schuster, 2008)

“Make sure we block off that left corner area as a restricted section for the Chargers and Padres,” Ivan told Christina and Audrey. He wanted them both to work the VIP section, while the two other girls worked the general floor, closer to the Filipinos and Mexicans he hoped would show up to join the crowd. And each of the four girls would spend time at the door passing out I.D. Promotions flyers.

By game time, Ivan had his wish. Emilio Alvarez showed up with Butch Clayborne, Big Deke Walker, and two other Padres players. Perry Browning, Zee-Dog, and three other Chargers showed up, including Herman “The Big Bad Hitta” Seaford. They all took chairs on the left side of the room, with a few girls and other guys who accompanied them. The Filipino locals, Mexican locals, and local blacks showed up with their money, jewelry, and girls to claim their areas of the room to watch the game. And before the Pittsburgh Steelers had even kicked the ball off, premium bottles of expensive liquor were already being ordered and popped from the tables.

The lounge was filled to capacity by the end of the first quarter, with a line still waiting out front. A hired cameraman took shots of it all for the website, while Jeff and Paul had other work to do.

“What do we do when we run out of room?” Ida pulled Ivan aside to ask him near the door. She was pleased with the turnout, but also worried about the overflow.

Ivan shrugged and said, “They’re just too late. There’s no more room in here.”

He wore a gold knit tennis shirt under a dark gray sports jacket to keep his professional look, even among the jersey-wearing sports crowd.

Ida told him, “Well, you need to go out there and tell them something. It’s a whole lot of people still waiting to get in.”

“About how many?” Ivan asked her.

“I can’t count them. They’re all over the sidewalk.”

Ivan walked out to view the crowd for himself. Sure enough, there were plenty of latecomers outside, admiring the luxury and sports cars of the athletes and other high rollers who had arrived early enough to park and make it in. They were also pleased by the girls who walked out to pass them flyers.

“Hey, Ivan, what’s going on, man? Am I still good?”

It was Julio and three of his friends, including his little brother, all standing out in the crowd, late. Julio was wearing Dallas Cowboys gear, all pumped and ready to watch the game.

Shit!
Ivan cursed himself.
How am I gonna work this line out?

Everyone outside wanted to get in, but the place was fast running out of room.
And what if a few of the Padres or Chargers come late?
Ivan worried.

He thought fast and told Julio, “One minute, man.” Then he grabbed the first security guard he could reach to walk inside with him.

Once they were inside the door, Ivan told him, “Hey, man, do me a favor and grab the guy with the Cowboys jersey and his friends in here. And if any other professional athletes walk up, you let them in as our special guests. But we need to tell everyone else to come earlier next week and enjoy the game somewhere else, because we’re filled to capacity already.”

Ivan didn’t want to max the place out to elbow-room. That would only make it more ripe for a disaster.

The security guard smiled and said, “I got you, man,” and walked back out to do his job.

Ida overheard him and smiled herself. She said, “You sure got your wish tonight, hunh? So I guess we can close the cash box now.”

Ivan chuckled and said, “I guess so.” He went back to working the crowd on his own that night. Lucina wanted no part of it. She didn’t even bother to witness her partner’s smashing triple. The only thing that stopped it from being a home-run hit was the small capacity of the lounge.

“Hey, what up, man? I’m Ivan David,” he introduced himself to the crowd, shaking hands. He wanted to make sure they all remained sociable.

“Yeah, we know who you are,” some of the crowd responded to him. “From IDPromotions.com, right?”

“Yeah,” Ivan answered, grinning. “Y’all need any more bottles of that good stuff ?”

“Is the next bottle free?” someone joked loudly.

Ivan answered, “Naw, this ain’t the place for that, nephew. This is high rollers only in here. So put your money where your mouth is, and we’ll send one of the pretty girls over to collect it.”

They laughed out loud over the football announcers on TV. And they respected Ivan as the chief of the party.

Perry Browning yelled out from the players’ section on the left, “Hey, Ivan, how come you didn’t bring ten of Lucina’s girls? I don’t see enough of ’em in here to go around for me.”

Ivan hollered back to him. “Oh, that’ll happen for you next week. We wanted to see what we were working with first.” Then Ivan addressed the crowd. “But now we know. So make sure y’all show up bright and early again next week. The only reservations we’re taking up in here is cash money.”

“I heard that!” Herman the Big Bad Hitta yelled out.

“THERE GO THE BUS! THERE GO THE BUS!” Perry yelled toward the screen in reference to the Pittsburgh Steelers’ massive running back Jerome
Bettis. Bettis rumbled over several Dallas defenders in the secondary for a touch-down, to give the Steelers a 16–3 lead in the second quarter.

As the crowd responded to the replays on the large screen, Perry boasted, “You wait till we play his ass in week twelve! I’m gon’ knock his damn wheels off!”

The Big Bad Hitta hollered right behind him, “THE SHOCKW-A-A-A-AVE!” and high-fived his teammates.

O
UTSIDE AT THE INTERSECTION OF THE STREET,
Lucina pulled up in her black E-Class Mercedes and eyed the dense crowd of sports fans and exotic cars that surrounded Raymond’s Hot Spot Lounge in the parking lot, as well as on both sides of the street.

“Oh shit, it looks like they did it tonight,” her passenger commented. It was her girl Maya, the dark-haired Colombian.

Lucina remained speechless at the wheel. She pulled up to double park outside the lounge entrance, next to a dark blue Bentley. She pressed her hazard lights on.

“I’ll be right back out,” she told her girl.

“You’re going in to see Ivan?” Maya asked her.

“Of course,” Lucina answered snidely.
Why else would I go in?

Maya didn’t think anything of it. “Tell him I said hi.”

Lucina closed the car door behind her without responding.

Out in front of the lounge, the security guards were still trying to clear the disgruntled crowd.