19
Heather
A
ddress me as Your Majesty!
Kreayshawn on deck.
Shots of Patrón in the air.
Skittles at the door.
Black Beauty in the bag. Crushed and ready to go.
And three bitches brought down with one rock from a slingshot.
You can kiss the ring . . .
Kreayshawn chanted as Co-Co Ming and I bounced across Club Eden. A small rooftop spot that had the best raves and Skittle parties outside of Hollywood.
Clearly the place to be.
The music was right and everyone in here knew me. Co-Co Ming and I were droppin' it low. And poppin' it high.
This was Wu-Wu's night. Not only had I daringly changed my looks and put hot pink highlights in my hair but I had a black Chinese dragon tattoo on my right arm with Wu-Wu blazing through his mouth like fire.
I was hot.
Sizzling.
Boiling over with joy.
My Wu-Wu was back.
Swag was in check.
“Ahhh, Wu-Wu's in the house!” I tossed up five hundred singles in the air and made it rain in the center of the dance floor. Puddles everywhere.
This was Wu-Wu's world and there was nothing anyone could do to ruin my night.
“Bust it, Wu-Wu!” Co-Co Ming spun around on his strappy heels while his matching Burberry blazer and tie floated in the air. His plaid shorts were super tight as he did a Rockette's kick and waved his arms in the air. After a few minutes of dancing Co-Co Ming topped it off with what he called the Wu-Wu duck walk. A mix between the Pop-Lock-and-Drop-It and the Wheelchair.
“Roll it! Ride the chair!” I yelled, dancing in my rainbow sparkling seven-inch platforms and canary booty shorts. My cleavage was busting out of my tiger bra top, ready to be shook free. “Do it, Co-Co! Make it work!” I shook my shoulders. “Who loves you, baby! Pop them hips! Vogue with it, Co-Co! Shimmy, shimmy, Co-Co, pop!”
Co-Co did a fly kick and landed into a Russian split. He started pumping the floor and the crowd who'd been dancing around focused their attention on us and started egging us on. “Ain't no party like a Wu-Wu party!” Co-Co and I sang simultaneously as we got lost in the movement of our bodies.
This was the truth.
The hottest party ever.
“Hey Wu-Wu,” the D.J. called me and said from the D.J. booth. “Come say a little something and hit us with a freestyle!”
The crowd cheered as Co-Co Ming encouraged me to go and spit something on the mic. I was definitely not a rap artist but when I was feeling this good I was willing to dabble a little bit. I bounced my way over toward the D.J., took the mic, and said, “I need you to drop that classic Game beat from âPut You on the Game.'”
The beat boomed from the speakers. All eyes were locked on me. And the vibrations of the beat went through my bones.
“One time for your mind!” Co-Co Ming yelled, slinging his hair back and forth. He was smiling so hard that his eyes sank into his high cheeks.
I waved my arms in the air, directed the crowd which way to sway, and rapped:
Let me tell you how...
I brought the Gucci clique down...
Click, click,
With the camera . . . behind the bathroom door
And smiling away.
Thought they could get away with the dirty tricks and their best friend's boyfriend.
Little did they know I was recording on the other end!
Click, click...
“Two times for your mind!” Co-Co yelled. And the crowd chanted, “Ahh, Wu-Wu's in the house!”
My rap continued:
And then I pressed send.
Brought their world right to an end.
Next thing I know Spencer got whupped down in the ditch.
Rich found out she was tricked by the dizzy bitch.
London got caught up in the matrix.
And the Gucci clique was clearly not ready for war!
Click. Click...
“Ahh, Wu-Wu's in the house!” the crowd chanted. “Ahh, Wu-Wu's in the house!”
I bunched my shoulders and slid across the stage. The crowd went wild and as I went to take a bow the crowd shouted, “Go, Wu-Wu . . . Go Wu-Wu!” And the next thing I knew I was taking a handful of Skittles to the head and spitting my rhyme all over again.
20
London
E
arly Saturday morning found me lying in my man's muscular arms, basking in the afterglow of the hot, steamy, body-rocking lovemaking session we'd just had. Forget the fact that I was on Daddy's Ruin My Daughter for Life list. Let's forget that he had practically grounded me until my thirtieth birthday. Well, okay, not that long, but long enoughâat least until he had to fly out to London for business in a few days. I was supposed to be locked away in my room thinking about my behavior. A teenager's version of a time-out. But Daddy would absolutely flatline me if he even caught wind that I had snuck my Boobie into my bedroom two nights ago and was lying up with him right under his nose, underneath his roof. Yeah, I knew I was playing Russian roulette with my life
and
my inheritance. It was a dangerous game. But, like with everything else in life, love was a gamble. There were people in this world who were addicted to gambling. Then there were people like me. Addicted to love. Strung out on fairy tales and happily-ever-after. Caught up in the thrill of doing something you knew you shouldn't be doing all for the sake of experiencing that same exact rush you felt the very first time you did it.
Yes, love had me. And it had me betting high. I was taking a big risk. But when you're with the sexiest man on the face of the earth, who makes your heart flutter and your body shakeâwhen you experience the kind of euphoria I was feeling with my man being in my bed, his hands roaming my bodyâyou threw caution to the wind, tossed your chips up in the air and let them fall where they may. With Lady Luck on my side, nothing could ever go wrong. I was in it to win it.
Nothing else mattered to me. Not Daddy's wrath. Not the threat of being shipped off to a convent, or the threat of a nuclear war. I was feeling good ... no, great! No, scratch that . . . fabulously on top of the world.
Then why am I feeling like the rug is about to be pulled right from underneath my baby-soft feet?
“I love you so much, baby,” floated from my Boobie's lips, as he nibbled on my ear. He whispered it again. And the uneasiness that gathered in the center of my chest slowly vanished. He caressed my face, then lightly kissed me on the lips. “You know you my world, right?”
I lifted my head off his chest and looked him in the eyes. For a brief moment I wondered if he loved me in the same way that I loved him. Would he risk losing every ounce of who he was for me if the diamond were on the other hand?
He kissed me on the tip of my nose.
“What you thinking about, baby?”
I shifted my eyes, trying to keep my insecurities from sneaking up on me. “Nothing.”
“Yo, c'mon, London. Don't play me. You know I can tell when there's something going on in that pretty little head of yours. Talk to me.”
“Do you love me?”
He scrunched his face. “Of course I do. What kind of question is that? Didn't you just hear me tell you how much?”
I nodded. “I know what came out of your mouth. But did you mean it? Do you feel it?”
“Yo, word up, baby. Don't do that. After all we've been through, do you even have to ask?”
I ran my hand over his smooth chest. “I just don't want anything to change between us, that's all.”
“Baby, stop. Nothing's gonna change with us, ya hear? We're in this together, thick as thieves, for life. You and me against the world, baby. You're the Bonnie to my Clyde.” He took my hand and placed it over his heart. “Feel that?”
I nodded. Beneath, his hard pecs felt like the thundering of horses.
“That's us, baby. One heart, one beat... one love. Nothing can ever change that. But if you're feeling some kinda way about what we've been planning, then we can squash it all.
“Everything?” I asked, surprised, feeling a tinge of relief and guilt wrapped up in one.
“If that's what you want, hell yeah.”
I eyed him. “And you'd be okay with that?”
“Damn straight, baby. I'll give it all up for you. I don't want you doing anything you're not feeling. If you say it's a wrap, then eff it. That's what it is, real talk.”
I lowered my head. I loved my man. And I was willing to do anything for him. But there was a nagging in the back of my mind that told me it could all blow up in my face, leaving me to pick up the pieces, again, if I wasn't careful.
I could feel tears rimming my eyes.
He lifted my chin. “Baby, listen. I'd cut out my heart before I ever hurt you. Your happiness is all that matters to me. So it's whatever.”
The tears started falling.
“Damn,” he said, taking my face in his hands. He leaned in and kissed my tears as they fell. I closed my eyes. “Don't cry.” He kissed my right lid, then my left. “I'm right here, baby.” He kissed the tip of my nose. Then my lips, taking his hand and gently wiping my tear-streaked face. “I'm not willing to lose what we have.”
“I know. I didn't mean to be selfish.”
“You're never selfish.”
I sighed. “It's just that I'm risking a lot.”
“We both are.”
“I know that. I only want to be sure that we're in this together.”
He pressed his lips softly against mine. “That's how it is. That's how it's always gonna be.”
“I don't want anything to go wrong.”
“Me either, baby. Life is about chances. Look at us. We were built on chances. And we're still standing. I remember the first time I peeped you, sexy. You remember that?”
I couldn't help but smile. “Yeah, it was Fashion Week.”
“And you had just finished tearing the runway up. You were mad sexy . . .”
My eyes drifted off to the distance. As beautiful as the memory was, it was equally heartbreaking. I tried to not think about how that was the last time I was on stage. And how that was the last time my mother looked at me with pride beaming from her eyes.
You're nothing now. You'll never be anything.
He stroked my hair. “. . . You hear me, baby?”
“Yeah . . . yeah, I hear you.”
“Then why you looking all sad?”
I stared into his eyes. My stomach was aching. “I'm scared and nervous.”
“You have nothing to be worried about, baby.”
“But I am. I'm worried that you're going to not want me anymore. That someone is going to take your love from me.”
He pulled me into his arms. “Never that, baby. You're all I want. All I'll ever want. We've been through too much together for that to ever happen. I'm all yours. In mind, heart, and in body. I don't see anyone else but you in my life. Ain't nothing gonna ever come between us. You're my heart. I love you, girl. You hear me?”
I let out a sigh of relief, nodding. The fear of him leaving me, not loving me, all pressed down on my chest. I knew he was here with me. Knew I was in his arms. Knew that we had just finished making love, but still there was a nagging sense of doom that gnawed at my spirit. I could feel it, could smell it; could almost touch the heartbreak.
“What, baby, you don't believe me?”
“It's not that I don't believe you. It'sâ”
He cut me off, climbing out of the bed. “I was tryna wait to do this . . .”
“Do what?” I asked watching as he walked over to his weekend bag.
“I wanted to get things right for us, first. I've been walking around with this for about a week.”
I giggled. “Walking around with what for a week?”
He walked back over to me holding a small Tiffany's box in his hand.
“I love you so much, baby. From the moment I saw you I knew you were the one. I never thought you'd check for a dude like me, but you did. It was never about how much money I had. Or what I did or didn't have. It was about me. It was about us. We're a family, baby.”
He dropped down on one knee. I quickly sat up in bed, feeling overjoyed.
Ohymgod, ohmygod, ohmygod, he's about to . . .
“London Elona Phillips, will you marry me?”