Read Last Train For Paris Online

Authors: Ebony Garris,Blake Karrington

Last Train For Paris

BOOK: Last Train For Paris
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Last Train For Paris

(An Epic Tale)

 

 

Ebony S. Garris

 

 

 

Copyright 2007 by Ebony S. Garris

 

 

 

Chapter 1

Everyday I’m Hustlin

 

The cold brisk Chicago air hit Paris hard smacking her right in the face chilling her body as she tugged the door to the Cat Box. It was rounding about eleven o clock at night and while the normal eighteen year old would be rushing home to make curfew after a date with their boyfriend Paris was on her way to work. The Cat Box was one of the classiest gentlemen’s clubs in Chicago and she had landed herself a primetime gig as “Candy” one of the most sought after strippers in the club. While her profession was something that she wasn't proud of it paid the bills and put food in her mouth every week. The whole mentality of the stripping business was quite simple “Don’t Take it Personal!” Keeping that in mind Paris dragged herself into that club every night for the past two years. Thinking back her life was great two years ago before everything changed. When you're young and your elders always tell you to be careful what you wish for, you never hold any merit to it because you think you already know what you want. Well now Paris wished she would’ve taken that advice a long time ago and ran with it. As a young girl she always thought life would be flawless, like the perfect fairytale. You know big house, fancy car and so much money she can’t even count it. Well ironically Paris' life did turn out that way and she had everything she asked for. So why all the talk about thinking twice about what you ask for? Life has taken a drastic change for Paris in a matter of three months and she didn’t even see the change coming! Born Paris Alexis Harris raised in the windy city of Chicago was the second child of her mother Helene. She only knew her mother by face when she first looked into her eyes after she was born. Helene died the very next day of internal bleeding. Her father never was around and the only person Paris had to depend on was her grandmother Ella. Ella took Paris and her sister in and never thought twice of us being a burden because they were her “babies”. 17 years and 2 months later Paris found herself by herself after her grandmother passed due to a heart attack. Four years her senior Sherry got strung out on drugs when she was 17 and Paris hadn't heard from her since so in her mind she was the only child. Ella had lots of dreams and aspirations for Paris but being alone at 18 made Paris an adult who had to make adult choices about how to survive out in the real world. Which is why she had been working at the Cat Box every since. Desperate times call for desperate measures so she took on a gig as a full time assistant store manager from 9-6 and a stripper from 11 until whenever there was enough money to take care of the rent. Things really began to go down hill every since her grandmother passed but Paris pushed through it all and wasn't doing too bad for herself. She was a young woman with a great job and a stable boyfriend who proved to be all the family she needed. Paris' boyfriend Sean had been there for her every step of the way supporting her in everything she did, even if he didn't agree. This night was no different than any others as Paris prepared to work.

“Paris when are you going to drop this dead beat ass club and pursue a real career?” Sean asked. Sean Hunter and Paris had been dating since they were freshmen in high school so about four years. Sean loved Paris more than anything they both shared one common goal and that was to break into the music industry. They used to go to the studio all the time and grind out tracks, Sean spitting the lyrics and Paris laying down the vocals. It seemed lately he had been the only one pursuing their dream because Paris was so caught up in making money at the Cat Box that nothing else even mattered. “Sean studio time and recording demos don't exactly pay for themself." "You don’t seem to complain about my job then do you?” Paris shot back. She was so tired of Sean and his bullshit, if he hated her working there so much why did he bring his ass down there every night. Paris moved from the dressing room making her way up the steps to the VIP room. She was like the main event and from her understanding there were some niggas here from New York with lots of money to spend.

Those niggas being Miles Crawford and his crew from Golden Boy Records. Golden Boy Records was a multi million dollar label that had been wrecking havoc since the day they stepped into the industry. Miles was the CEO and tonight was his birthday, him and his entourage made their way to VIP where everything was set up. Truth be told Miles hated strip clubs but he was out of town it was his birthday and he was celebrating his big raise from Composure Records. He was now the second richest black male in the US of A according to Forbes Magazine. Miles never thought that he would be this rich. As a kid he bounced around from foster home to foster home never knowing the true value of love let alone money. When Miles was just five years old his mother Jackie walked out on him he’s been on his own ever since. If it weren’t for Jarred an early mentor and record exec who worked at Composure, only God knows where he would be. Jarred had given Miles his first internship at the tender age of fourteen and Miles has been working there ever since. With Jarred passing a year ago Miles hadn’t been out unless on business so he was definitely gonna have a good time tonight, who knows he may even take one of these hoes to the back and show'em how a rough NYC nigga puts it down. This was one of the classiest upscale strip joints, the crème de la crème of exotic dancing. The girls are said to be the most beautiful creations that God himself made. The vibe at the Cat Box was normal for a Monday night , high class business men wanting to start the week off right, some new rookie ball players, and of course music industry niggas. Young Jeezy’s “I Luv It” was blasting from the speakers, bottles of Armand De Brignac were being popped and money was being thrown from every angle. Paris made her way to the VIP and caught eyes with Sean who had just put his head down, got up and left. Paris brushed it off and continued to the VIP room, there was money to be made and Sean would just have to bitch about it later.

Miles and his crew were in VIP checking out the girls who to him were all mediocre in looks. Nice long hair, beautiful skin and great bodies, but they lacked what he liked to call stage presence; none of them caught your attention and made you lose sight of everything going on around you. In his mind that was exotic and none of them had that characteristic so to him it was just a VIP room with a slew of money hungry strippers. As Paris scoped out the room she saw a lonely looking older dude who was just watching everyone else kind of uptight. Paris made her way over to him. “I can see your enjoying the atmosphere and all but I was wondering if you wanted a dance?” Paris said in a sweet yet welcoming voice. Miles was in such a daze that he hadn’t heard a word she said. She was by far the baddest mothafucka in the whole place. Nice caramel complexion, perfect body, and her face was indescribable kind of like a girl next store mixed with a naughty closet freak all in one. The way she approached him just stood out. As Paris proceeded to dance with him she could tell that all eyes were on them, every eye in the room was glued on Miles and his every expression. Dudes were shouting “Get it ma, show that nigga out.” After a while it became apparent to Paris that she was no longer giving this guy a lap dance she was fulfilling a fantasy and by the rock knocking against her ass she was doing a pretty good job. After the dance was over Miles took out a stack and handed it to Paris she looked at the money and walked away. “This one was on me, enjoy yourself” she said as she walked away on to the stage to get ready to make her real money for the night. She ruled against VIP the niggas in there looked thirsty and out of order plus she hated private dances she liked to be on the stage were she felt comfortable, right at home, even if she was dancing on it butt ass naked! As the night wounded down Paris got her things together and noticed a note on her vanity. It was probably from Sean either apologizing or cursing her out you never know with him. She threw it in her bag and didn’t think anything of it. Sean left her car waiting right out front with valet as usual. He was always looking out for her, in his eyes Paris was pure wifey and he had to make sure she was taken care of, he just wished that she could understand her life’s worth. Paris was curious to see what Sean wrote her so she pulled out the note before pulling off. She opened the note but it wasn’t from Sean it was from some guy named Miles who wanted to meet up with her tonight she was just about to ask who Miles was until she read ps: and for the record I did enjoy myself. It was the guy she gave the lap dance to earlier. As much as she ruled against it she wanted to see what this guy was on, I guess you could say curiosity or money, the stack he had offered her was huge and she knew a private show would call for much more. She called for Banks the 24 hr security guy that went out on calls with the strippers to make sure dudes didn’t get out of hand. As Banks followed behind her she made her way up I-94 to the W hotel. Walking into the hotel she followed the directions on the letter which told her to go straight up to the penthouse suite on the top level. Her and Banks stood at the door as she rang the bell, yes they had doorbells, this was crazy. Miles opened the door alarmed by the big debo looking nigga who stood in front of him. “Can I help you?” Miles asked with a disturbed look on his face. “Did you have a request for Candy?” Banks asked, Miles shook his head and as Banks moved to the right behind him stood Mile’s merchandise. Paris sized this dude up and down trying to figure him out. As Paris made her way into the penthouse suite she was in awe. Never in her life had she been in a suite like this! It had upstairs, downstairs, rooms galore and the floor was Italian marble you know the good kind that you can see your reflection in. Miles motioned for her to come over. He whispered in her ear “what you don’t trust me, why is this debo nigga here with you, do you think I’m gonna hurt you or something?” For some odd reason Paris felt somewhat secure around this dude not to mention if she had to she could take him down in a minute, she may be small but she knew exactly where, when and how, hard to kick a nigga if she had to. She motioned for Banks to leave which really meant wait outside the door and keep your eyes and ears open. As the door closed Paris sat down and gestured for Miles to do the same. She began to lay down the rules: number one she was in control, number two don’t touch unless instructed to, and lastly number 3 when it’s over its over no cuddling or staying over. After the rules were laid out Miles began to undress as Paris came and mounted on top of him. Just as the two were getting into it Miles stopped. “You know this is just not my thing, he said I’m not this type of dude. I mean don’t get me wrong I enjoy an occasional one night stand here and there but I don’t pay for ass that’s just not my forte. With that said Paris got her things and begin to leave. But the crazy thing was Miles didn’t want her to go he liked her presence just the mere thought of having her around to himself turned him on. “Wait don’t leave” Miles said. Paris looked back irritated…. “Look sir I understand how uncomfortable this must feel for a first timer such as yourself but just to set the record straight I don’t fuck for money I was only going to give you a dance collect my cash and be on my way I have bigger fish to fry.” Paris said on her way to the door. Miles looked at her “It’s getting late I really just want some company is it alright if we just chill I have this whole suite to myself it’s my last night here all I really want to do is talk, and I’ll pay you just for that.” Miles said as genuine as he could without sounding like a bitch. In all the time that Paris had been stripping she never meet a dude who just wanted to pay her for talking to him, this guy was weird but since he had the dough she had the time. Paris and Miles talked for hours about everything from how she got into the business to her mother’s death all the way to her lifelong dream of becoming a singer one day. Miles could tell that Paris wasn’t just another money hungry stripper she actually did this because she had to, sort of like a survival of the fittest thing. He was turned on by her ambition with a touch of gangster mentality. As the two continued to talk time flew past and before they knew it the sun was coming up. Paris looked at Miles and said “I ought to be going I have to be at work at the mall in an hour.” Miles reached and gave her an envelope. Paris took it but for some reason didn’t want to take it, she felt connected to Miles like he was an old friend she just caught up with, how could she charge someone for that. Miles didn’t want her to go, so he thought for a quick second and did something that he had never done for a girl before. “Paris come back to New York with me, I want to help you.” Miles said as the words left his lips, not believing what he just said was he serious... Help a stripper become a superstar what was he thinking, clearly he was thinking with the wrong head. Paris stood in shock she didn’t know what to say she knew Miles briefly from when they talked but she didn’t know him well enough to just pick up everything and leave with him. She gave it no thought… “I wish it was that simple." She said as she left out the door leaving the envelope on the table. Miles was taken aback this girl was clearly injudicious. Did she know what she just gave up? Miles had to admit this girl had the type of swagger he needed in his life something to go after; he loved a catch, if it was too easy he got bored. After Paris left Miles called his assistant, I need a spare key made to the company loft we have a new artist. What’s her name? Antoinette his assistant asked. Paris and she’s the newest addition to the Golden Boy family so make sure she has the best. Miles said as he hung up the phone, he had to figure out how to get Paris on that plane to New York before it left tonight at 10.

BOOK: Last Train For Paris
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