Misty (19 page)

“You're right,” Gavin conceded. “I've been obsessing over Randolph and that isn't healthy.”

“It's not healthy at all,” Misty agreed.

The look on Gavin's face was unmistakably sad. “I miss him so much,” he said, covering his face with his hands as he broke down and sobbed.

“G
irl, these are the best hand-me-downs I've ever had,” Natalie said, patting the two shopping bags of designer wear that Anya had generously passed on to her. “But what about some shoes? We wear the same size and I know you have plenty pairs of hot-looking shoes,” Natalie said, with a look of greed glinting in her eyes.

“I'm a shoe freak. I can't give up any of my precious shoes.”

“I only want one pair,” Natalie whined, trying to persuade Anya by putting on a sad face.

“Nope. I'm serious. I can't part with my shoes.”

Anya had no idea what Natalie was doing with the big bucks she claimed to be making from Majid's after-hour parties, but being that she always looked a hot mess, it was apparent that buying clothes, shoes, and getting her hair done at a salon weren't top priorities.

As obnoxious as Natalie could be, Anya had a soft spot in her heart for her and hoped that she could help elevate her friend's self-worth by giving her a more fashionable wardrobe. Hopefully, having more confidence would open her eyes and allow her to see that Majid was not looking out for her best interests at all. He was using and abusing her, treating her like scum, yet Natalie's loftiest goal was to be his number one chick. It was becoming unbearable to even listen to Natalie talk about the sex parties and the sordid activities Majid had her involved in.

The sex games Natalie described were becoming increasingly dangerous, and in Anya's opinion, it was only a matter of time before Natalie got injured or even killed.

The two women sat in Anya's living room, drinking mimosas, when Anya said, “I want your opinion on something. Be right back.” She set her drink down and trotted to her bedroom, returning with a very expensive-looking, oblong box.

“Check it out; this is the birthday present I bought for Sergio.”

Natalie opened the box and scowled with confusion. She lifted the elegant Mont Blanc pen from its packaging and inspected the geometric pattern of the sleek pen. “It looks expensive. How much does something like this cost?”

“It wasn't cheap, I can tell you that,” Anya replied vaguely.

“Is it real gold?”

“Yep. Fourteen carat with a platinum-plated cap.”

“That's nice,” Natalie said unenthusiastically.

“I know Sergio's taste and he's gonna love it,” Anya said defensively. Finding a suitable birthday present for the man who has everything had been challenging.

Rotating the pen between her thumb and index finger, Natalie continued to examine it. “It's pretty and everything, but you should have bought him a big glitzy chain or a ring with diamonds and other jewels. It's not like you can't afford it.”

“Sergio already has a lot of jewelry. Besides, he wouldn't want me spending a large portion of my inheritance on something he already has in abundance.”

“I don't get it. What is he gonna do with a pen? That man is busy moving bricks; I know he's not sitting around writing love letters.”

Anya laughed. “Look, this is not any ordinary pen. The salesperson wouldn't even call it a pen; she referred to it as a writing instrument.”

“Umph,” Natalie grunted, unimpressed.

“This pen is gonna come in handy when Sergio starts writing lots of checks—when he goes legit.”

Natalie stared at Anya inquiringly, and Anya immediately regretted having repeated what Sergio had told her in confidence. Sergio's secret wouldn't have slipped out if Natalie hadn't had her on the defensive about the gift she'd bought him.

“Is Sergio planning on getting out of the game?” Natalie asked with a raised brow.

“Well, um…,” she stammered. “They all have to get out of the game, at some point, right? Everyone knows that the end result is either death or jail.”

“That's a negative way of looking at your man's livelihood. What's up, you trying to jinx him or something?” Natalie shook her head disapprovingly.

“Of course not, but I have been hinting for him to get a real job. I'd be much more comfortable if he was in a less dangerous profession,” Anya said, making it sound like it was her idea for Sergio to get out of the game.

Natalie burst out laughing. “Keep dreaming, girl. That man's gonna ball 'til he falls. Do you really think he would give up his power to go work in the corporate world? Or would you prefer for him to flip burgers for a living? It seems like you're wishing the worst for him,” Natalie accused with her face twisted in a scowl.

“That's not true, but why don't we change the subject? I'm not comfortable talking about Sergio's personal business.”

“I feel you on that. Majid would have a fit if he thought I was putting his business out there.” Natalie glanced at the pen once more and then set it on the coffee table.

Anya was surprised to hear Natalie speaking as if she and Majid were in a serious relationship. First of all, Natalie was not Majid's
main girl; she was one of many side pieces and was nothing more than a sex toy to him. Secondly, Natalie
had
put his business out there when she disclosed that he hosted after-hour freak parties. But Anya didn't say anything. She reached over and returned the pen to the luxurious, cushioned box.

“So, how are you gonna celebrate your man's birthday? You should rent out the entire VIP area at the club and have a private party for him,” Natalie suggested.

“I have other plans. Something quiet and romantic.”

“Like what?”

“I was thinking about baking him a cake from scratch and—”

“Ohmigod, that's so boring. What's wrong with you, girl? You're smashing the biggest hustler in the area, and the only thing you can come up with for his birthday is a damn cake? That's corny.”

“That's not the only thing I'm planning to do. I'm trying to learn how to cook Dominican food, and I'm gonna surprise him with one of his favorite dishes—Pollo Guisado. That's chicken stew with a lot of flavor. It's served with rice and beans.”

“Girl, if you don't stop being cheap and take your man out for a juicy steak and lobster instead of that crap you're talking about. You gon' fuck around and lose Sergio to a bitch who knows how to treat a man.”

“I know how to treat a man. Trust,” Anya said with certainty. “It's not always about how much something costs, Natalie. It's about the effort involved in showing how much you care. I know Sergio, and he wouldn't want me to spend a fortune on an elaborate birthday gift. We're going to spend a quiet evening at home on his birthday and the fact that I'm taking the initiative to learn how to cook the food he loves will mean a lot to him.”

“Oh, so you're gonna be cooking at his crib?”

Anya nodded. “You should see his house; it's stunning and huge with a pool and an outdoor Jacuzzi. And the kitchen looks like something out of a magazine. It's completely white with top-of-the-line appliances. I'm gonna love moving around and rattling pots and pans in his big, beautiful kitchen.”

“I thought material things didn't mean anything to you and Sergio,” Natalie said snidely.

“Obviously, we both like nice things, but I decided to cook for him. Something from the heart would mean more to him than something store-bought. After all, what can I buy Sergio that he can't buy himself?”

“Something better than a pen. If I had your money, I'd buy him a pure gold, Dookie chain to match the one he wears. That would look hot.”

“No, I'm sticking to my gut and keeping it simple.” Changing the subject, Anya said, “You know what he told me the other day? He said before he met me, he hardly ever stayed at home; he was always out in the streets. He said the place was so big, he felt lonely in there all alone. But now that we're seeing each other exclusively, he enjoys spending time at home.” Anya went quiet briefly and then smiled. “Lately, I've been at his place a lot. He asked me to move in with him.”

“Are you?”

Anya shrugged. “I don't know. We're getting really close, and I have to admit, I've been giving it a lot of thought. But I don't want to ruin what we have by moving too fast. You know what I mean?”

“I have no idea what you mean. Shit, Majid wouldn't have to ask me twice. I'd be up in that bitch so fast…sitting in a plush chair with my feet up before he could blink his eyes.” Natalie demonstrated by comically propping her feet up on Anya's coffee table.

Anya burst into laughter, and in the midst of it, she glimpsed the soles of Natalie's shoes and noticed they were painted a glossy red, mimicking Christian Louboutins. Sadly, the chipped and cracking paint was a dead giveaway that the shoes weren't authentic.

Anya had several pairs of Louboutins and wondered if Natalie was trying to compete with her. Embarrassed for her friend, Anya glanced away from the cheap, hand-painted soles.

“So, how are things with you and Majid?” Anya asked, pretending that she considered their warped sexual union as a genuine relationship.

“We're doing good; except for the fact that he got this bitch named Heidi who thinks she's running shit when Majid isn't around.”

“What do you mean?”

“When he's taking care of business with Sergio, he can't personally attend the parties. So, the chick, Heidi, tries to get shit popping by telling Majid's other bitches what to do.” Looking disgruntled, Natalie twisted her lips. “It's one thing for Majid to tell me whose dick to suck and whose pussy to eat, but I don't appreciate that bitch, Heidi, giving me orders.”

“Are you really okay with the lifestyle you're leading?” Anya asked, choosing her words carefully. “I don't think it's emotionally or physically healthy for you to be tricking for Majid.”

“I'm not tricking,” Natalie protested.

“What do you call it?”

“Having fun, working parties.”

“But you're not having fun.”

“It's a lot of fun when I make my baby happy. But when Majid's not there, I don't like that bitch ordering me around.”

Natalie's warped way of thinking was outrageous, but despite her flaws, Anya had grown to like her. She also felt sorry for her, and had come to the conclusion that Natalie was mentally slow. She
hoped her friendship and guidance would steer her in the right direction.

“There's no reason for you to allow this Heidi chick to degrade you.”

“There's nothing I can do about it.”

“Yes, there is.” With patient weariness, Anya touched Natalie's hand. “You have to stop selling yourself to entertain people who don't care about you. You have to start loving yourself.”

“I have to keep Majid happy.”

“No, you don't. You have to keep yourself happy.”

“Who are you supposed to be, my therapist or somebody? Look, I have a plan and one day I'm gonna be in Heidi's position. I'm gonna be the one calling the shots. But right now I have to stay humble and play my part.”

“I'm scared something bad is gonna happen to you, Natalie.”

Natalie dismissed that idea with a hand wave. “Ain't nothing gonna happen to me. Now that I'm getting money, I don't have to make my rounds to different churches on Sunday.”

Anya stared at Natalie blankly. “What are you talking about?”

“Me and my brother used to go from church to church sitting through boring sermons, waiting for the collection plate to come around.”

Anya gasped. “Don't tell me…”

“Uh-huh. That used to be my hustle,” Natalie said proudly. “Money snatched from the collection plate would pay for our weed for a whole week.”

Natalie's confession was so unexpected, Anya was startled into laughter. “You stole from the church to buy weed?”

“Sure did. Don't judge! The preacher's doing the same thing, but he's taking a lot more than weed money,” Natalie rationalized.