Unconditionally Single (21 page)

T
he sunshine peeped in the morning, then faded, but not my spirit.

I arrived early at my office with Onyx. The other girls would be here soon. I turned on the lights and surveyed the office. Sweeter than Honey was immaculate, the way I insisted. A cluttered office was a sign of a dysfunctional operation. My personal life was in disarray, not my business.

Onyx brought me a cup of hot coffee with cream and hazelnut. “This is half. I have the other half,” she said, handing me a stack of intake forms. “With so much going on, we haven’t had time to contact any of these ladies.”

The feeling of being at work, being in my office, brought me joy. “Thanks,” I said, sipping my coffee. “Mmm, this is so good.”

Onyx returned to her desk as I sat in my office prioritizing the forms. I began to sort my stack into three categories, then set them aside. “Onyx, come in here and bring your forms.” I wanted to review all the forms, not half.

Moving to my small conference table for four, I held my coffee in one hand, forms in the other, gestured for Onyx to sit next to me. “Let’s work on this together. I want a color code system. Blue for high priority. We’ll stack those here. Red for medium. Those will go here. And white for low. Those we’ll put here.”

Onyx stared at me with a half smile.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Honey, you look so serene. It’s good to have you back,” she said, hugging me.

“It’s good to be back. Now let’s get to work before clients start walking through the door dividing our attention.”

My policy was if the lights are on, we are open. Each case before us warranted immediate attention, but with one hundred new cases a day, we couldn’t help them all at the same time.

I read, “Geraldine Spears. Twenty-six years old, rape victim, two months pregnant, needs abortion consultation.”

“Blue,” Onyx said. “We have to find out if she was raped while she was pregnant or if her pregnancy is the result of a rape. If it’s recent, we need to find out if she has a rape kit on file, if there is a police report, if there’s an active investigation in progress.”

Impressed, I smiled, read the next one. “Tammy Nelson. Sixty years old, recently contracted AIDS.”

“Red,” Onyx said. “Unfortunate, but there’s nothing we can do to change her status. We’ll assist her with education on maintaining her health, medication, and make sure she’s emotionally stable.”

“Next is Cotton Candy. Sixteen-year-old stripper/prostitute.”

“Red Velvet could help mentor some of these young girls,” Onyx said. “White for Candy. She’s probably a rebellious teen.”

I thought about Sunny Day, then said, “Let’s move Candy to blue. You’re doing a great job. Keep sorting the forms, I’m going to call Geraldine Spears.”

While Onyx continued working at the table, I sat at my desk and dialed Geraldine’s number.

“Hello.” The woman who answered sounded as though I’d awakened her.

“Hello. May I speak with Geraldine Spears, please?”

“This is Geraldine.”

“I’m Honey Thomas. I’m calling from Sweeter than Honey. Are you available for a consultation today at noon?”

Geraldine perked up. “I’ll be there. And thanks so much for calling me. See you at noon. Thanks,” she said.

Scribbling notes on her form, I called Valentino to thank him for taking care of Girl Six.

He answered, “Hey, I was thinking about you.”

A pregnant girl entered my office, stomach the size of a basketball. Too far along to be Geraldine. “How can I help you?” I asked.

She placed her hands on her stomach. “I want to give my baby up for adoption. Can you help me?” Her pink backpack hung on one shoulder.

“Valentino, let me call you back.” I picked up a blank intake form and sat with the girl at my conference table. After taking her basic information, I said, “Tell me why you want to give up your baby, sweetheart.”

She was fourteen. A pretty girl with short hair and bright eyes. Her hygiene was good, clothes clean.

“I heard you could help me. I’m scared. I don’t know who the father is. My mother is always gone. She works two jobs, says she can’t feed another mouth. Nobody will hire me. I don’t have any money. I’ve never been to the doctor. And…” She started crying.

I hugged her. “It’s okay, baby. Tell me.”

“And I don’t want my mother to sell my baby’s virginity the way she sold mine.” She wrung her hands. “I’m so scared. You’ve gotta help me. Please.”

I got up, paced around the conference table, sat down. This was the kind of shit that made me want to kill a man. Who was this child’s father? This mother-to-be was still a baby herself.

I looked toward the door. Onyx walked in with Valentino and Girl Six. This was going to be a very long day.

“Wait here, sweetheart.” I stepped out of my office and closed the door. “Onyx, get her some tissue and a bottle of water.”

Valentino handed me a bouquet of red and yellow roses. “For friendship and love in that order. Happy Just Because I Like You Day, Lace.”

“Thanks.” There was a card attached. I handed the flowers to Onyx as she passed by. “Put these in water for me, please.”

“Bad timing?” Valentino asked.

“I have a crisis right now. Onyx, I need you to call Grant.”

“Grant Hill?” she asked.

“Yes, Grant Hill, right now. I need to purchase two houses, six beds, six baths each, in Buckhead. I need the houses completely furnished. And ask two of the girls to move into one of the houses immediately.”

“What’s the rush?” Onyx asked.

“Do it now,” I said. “We have to provide a safe environment for our pregnant fourteen-year-old client in there. She says her mother sold her virginity.”

Valentino shook his head. “Shameful.”

“She might be the first to come here but she’s not alone. If we can house them together, they can emotionally support one another.”

“Voice mail,” Onyx said.

“Leave a message,” I told her.

“Wait. Lace, let me find the properties for you,” Valentino said.

“What?”

“I can and want to find those properties for you,” he said.

“I’ll help him,” Girl Six added.

“Hey, Grant…”

“Onyx, hang up the phone. We’ve got our team.”

O
ur flight landed in Los Angeles. The limo was waiting.

Giddy as a teenager, Jada asked me again, “Where are we going?”

“I keep telling you, you are not allowed to ask questions.” The driver opened the champagne. I filled two flutes. “To us.”

To us?
Thoughts of Honey crossed my mind. I saw an incoming call from her office, didn’t answer because I was with Jada. I knew Honey would call but there was nothing she could say to make me forgive her.

“Never sweat the small stuff,” Jada said.

The driver parked on Rodeo Drive. I wasn’t big on shopping, would rather have hired a personal shopper to assist Jada with her selections, but if I intended to be her husband, I’d have to get used to doing these types of things. I escorted Jada into one of the numerous designer stores on the strip where celebrities shopped.

“May I help you?” the host asked.

I initiated control before Jada spoke. “Yes, fit my lady with a gorgeous gown, shoes, a handbag, jewels, the works. Find her a fitted gown, mermaid style. And I need a stylish tuxedo and shoes.”

I sat outside the fitting room as Jada modeled each dress. My choice was clear. She looked stunning in red. “Um, um, um. It’s perfect,” I said, staring at her ass.

Standing in the three-way mirror, Jada glanced over her shoulder. “You don’t think the color is too bold? I’m more of a background type of woman. I’m accustomed to handling all the details and only stepping up when things don’t go smoothly.”

“We’re stepping out, and if anyone has to step up, it’s me.”

She smiled, went into the fitting room, came out dressed in her aqua blue pants and long-sleeved blouse. I wondered what dress Honey would’ve selected to wear to the Grammys.

The host brought our bags and boxes to the limo. “To our hotel,” I instructed the driver. I settled in with Jada, opened a fresh bottle of champagne. “A toast to your beauty.”

I was certain that if Honey were in the limo, I would’ve had my dick sucked, licked her pussy, or at least stuck my finger inside of her pussy for an appetizer. With Jada having so many clothes on, I didn’t bother initiating anything sexual.

The limo arrived at our hotel. “Have our things sent up,” I told the driver. “We’re on a tight schedule.”

We checked into the Wilshire, where I’d reserved a suite with a glass-enclosed master bathroom so I could watch Jada shower. She removed her clothes, and for the second time I saw the most amazing body, that of a woman my age, not her age. The bellman arrived.

Not wanting him to see my woman naked, I said, “Leave the rack.” I rolled the cart in front of the sofa.

Jada stepped out of the shower and I stepped in. I wanted her to shower first in case she was one of those women that took forever to apply makeup, do her hair, and get dressed.

Surprised, by the time I finished showering, I noted the only thing Jada had to do was put on the red dress and silver stilettos. Once she did, she was absolutley ravishing.

“Shall we?” I said, extending my arm.

We made our way back to the limo, rode through heavy traffic. Jada finally figured out where we were going when we arrived at the security checkpoint.

“Ahhh! We’re going to the Grammys.”

“Roll down all your windows,” the officer said to our driver. Several police officers looked inside. Our limo drove through two car detectors before arriving at the red carpet.

The red carpet entrance blazed with lights, cameras, and celebrities. Behind the roped area,
E!, Access, Extra,
and
Insider
interviewed a variety of stars. With so many interviews occurring simultaneously, it was amazing how the televised versions didn’t have the background noise.

I escorted Jada to our floor seats. Next time, I told myself I’d get Level 1 or Suite tickets. It was fantastic to sit with so many celebrities on the floor level, but we were seated adjacent to the technicians’ sound stage.

The show was spectacular. Jennifer, Lil Wayne, Alison, Jamie, and so many more artists performed with amazing passion. When the show was over we headed to an after party, where we were up close with more celebrities. I knew with Jada’s contacts, she could’ve gotten us invites to the big-name parties, but she simply appreciated all I’d done to orchestrate the evening.

Jada looked amazing. Men couldn’t take their eyes off her. I couldn’t take my hands off her. The night was long. She was tired when we arrived back at our hotel and went straight to sleep. I lay awake, eyes open in the dark, staring toward the ceiling. I had to consummate our relationship before I proposed, had to know she was more than a pretty package.

I held my dick, stroked my shaft, and dozed off thinking about Honey.

V
alentino was working his way into my heart, as my friend. I was tired of always being at odds with him. Didn’t want to keep worrying about him coming after me. I kind of felt like we were two high school bullies who’d realized if we united we could build an empire. It was more uncommon for a woman not to have a best friend than it was for a man. Valentino made me realize I’d never had a best friend.

The more we talked I was amazed that his upbringing prior to pimping was similar to Grant’s. Valentino had enjoyed the luxury of having two loving parents but lost them both in his senior year of high school. His way of making money had become his survival skills, first exploiting high school girls, then starting his business, Immaculate Perception. I felt my relationship with Valentino had grown from our being archrivals to buddies, like two kids who’d fought, then made up.

Onyx said, “Honey, delivery.”

I looked up from the new pile of intake forms. Valentino handed me a bouquet of pink, yellow, and red roses. “For admiration, friendship, and love,” he said, handing them to me. “Let a nigga take you out for lunch today.”

I held the flowers, inhaled deeply. “These smell so good. Thanks.” I stepped into the lobby, gave the flowers to Onyx, and returned. “I would love to but I can’t,” I said, pointing at the stack of papers.

With the rising real estate foreclosure rate, Valentino had easily located two properties within the same block, less than a mile away from my mansion. And he paid for one as a gift to me. Before closing on both houses, I made sure all twelve beds were obligated to homeless pregnant teenagers.

It took me a while to read the card he’d attached to the first bouquet of roses he’d given me. It read “I will always love you.” I was shocked. Valentino confessed that he loved me. How long had he felt that way? I’d read the card attached to the bouquet he’d just handed me later.

“What you’re doing is good, but it’s no good if you don’t take care of yourself,” he said. “You’ve got to eat.”

Appreciating his concern, I said, “Let me think about it…. Onyx, come here for a moment, please.” Onyx stood in the doorway. “I need for you and Girl Six to go shop for furniture for the group houses. Bill it to my corporate account.”

“You sure you’ll be okay here by yourself?” Onyx asked.

“Don’t you see a nigga standing here?” Valentino said, repositioning his chair so he sat behind my desk facing me. “I’ll stay here with her.”

I didn’t need, nor did I want, any financial assistance from the city, county, or state governments to fund any of my projects. All the bureaucracy would delay my mission. But I was happy that Valentino volunteered to stay.

“I’ll call and check on you while we’re out,” Onyx said, leaving with Girl Six.

I asked Valentino, “What do you feel are early warning signs of exploitation of young girls? There has to be some way we can reach them before they end up on my code blue list.”

My mind drifted to Sapphire for a moment, wondering if she was happy.

“Let’s switch seats,” he said. Typing on my keyboard, he opened several Safari windows on my computer. “The Internet makes it fucking impossible to protect minors from sexual predators. We have to get major sponsors to place tons of banners that constantly remind females of the warning signs of exploitation.”

I saw his wheels turning and matched his fervor. “Banners, pop-ups, quizzes, videos—okay, that would cover some territory. And we could push for ‘Education on Exploitation’ in elementary, middle, and high schools.”

“And churches,” Valentino said. “Let’s not leave them out. Congregations are an intricate part of our communities.”

My eyebrows raised. Was this the same man?

“Most exploiters, pedophiles, molesters, abusers, rapists, and pimps are professional charmers, and the majority of Americans are materialistic. Couple that with gullibility and any broke man can dangle a carrot in front of a woman and make it sparkle like a diamond. Why do you think it was easy for me to start pimping females when I was in high school? They offered to have sex with me because I was a straight-A student, looked good, dressed nice, and treated them well. But some women are so desperate, they beg to be with men who don’t want them.”

“Straight A?”

“Yeah. What—a nigga like me can’t be intelligent? Hell, my nigga Lil Wayne was a straight-A student too. Americans judge too fucking quick. Those smart-ass niggas like Grant, who think they know everything, could learn a lot from a nigga like me. He was stupid. He let you get away. I’m not doing that.”

Okay, I was not prepared to respond, so I didn’t. I had work to do. I had to have a one-on-one with each girl, then facilitate group sessions. Passion propelled me to jump in, determination and conviction had to steady my course. Standing, I bent over to stretch my lower back and legs. The space in front of my eyes faded to black.

“Lace, Lace. Get up.”

I heard Valentino’s voice but I couldn’t see him and I couldn’t move.