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Authors: Ms. Michel Moore

Around the Way Girls 9 (3 page)

BOOK: Around the Way Girls 9
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Chapter Three
Shawntay
 
“That's our daughter, Jimmy, you've gotta do something.”
“How in the hell did you get this number?” James growled into the phone. “I thought I'd left your ass back in the nineties.”
Shawntay gripped her Bible, hoping this wouldn't be the night to push her over the edge. It had been almost a year of her being clean—no alcohol, drugs, or prostituting—but there were always triggers to make her lose her sobriety. “Trust me; I wouldn't be calling you if it wasn't an emergency. Our baby girl is working down at Bare Faxxx. And you know what comes with that.”
“Aw, come on now, you can't be that surprised. The apple don't fall far from the tree, Tay.” He laughed, finding humor in something not funny at all. “What did you want her to do? Become a doctor or lawyer?”
James was never a fan of me having his child but with me hiding the pregnancy 'til I was too far long for an abortion, I'd pulled a sneak move on his ass knowing if nothing else I'd be securing child support. Every female who uses her body for money knows that once you get played out the game is over. I was looking out for the best interest of my future. James and his family, however, didn't see a biracial girl in their future. Shannon was treated bold right out of the door, starting with the DNA test he forced me to get.
“You don't have to be so cold-hearted, James. I know you ain't never been a fan of Shannon but, wow, is it really like that? You and I both know she's your flesh and blood.” I was being a hypocrite because I had been nothing but harsh and callous toward Shannon growing up.
“I've told you time and time again, woman, it's not Shannon I'm not a fan of; it's sneaky whores like you who try to ruin men like me.”
“It's been over twenty years. I guess you're seriously sticking to the plan on taking your hatred for me to the grave.”
“Yes, indeed. Please do us both a favor and not call again. I've spent far too much money changing my number to keep you out of contact.” Hanging up the phone in my ear, James and Shannon truly shared the same disrespectful gene.
 
1996: Shawntay
 
I'd been working eight weeks straight without seeing a drop of blood fall from my coochie. I kept up with my menstrual like the disabled counted down days to the first, so I knew what was up before even making the clinic appointment: I was pregnant. My body wasn't gonna be worth more than shit once this load dropped. It was already obvious since already I was carrying almost five pounds more, plus the mood swings had kicked in. The only good thing about this whole “gift and a curse” ordeal was that I'd be guaranteed a monthly stipend. If it was the weed man's baby I could call him or her a black solider. If it was Jimmy's baby, I could consider him or her the oppressor. Either way they both had cash, so once the doctor confirmed what I already knew, I'd be a retired call girl turned mother.
“Shawntay Jenkins,” the nurse of the free neighborhood clinic called out. Dressed in hot pink scrubs with a mangy wig mounted on her head, I hoped and prayed this was Jimmy's baby so I could get some real cash to do better. I was tired of this hood shit.
“Yeah, that's me.” Jumping up and walking to the door, I followed her through, being led to the examination room. It was super crowded with patients even sitting in the hallway. No one in the hood had adequate insurance so everyone from around the way got serviced here.
“Here, pee in this cup, then bring it back in here with you. I'll be back to get your vitals.” Handing over the plastic cup, she turned to tend to the nodding patient getting ready to fall into the wall. “Damn, it's gonna be a long day up in this joint.” She smacked her lips. Then I watched as she switched away in the most unprofessional way possible. I took a deep breath before going to go give the sample of tainted pregnant urine.
It was a dreadful long hour wait for the doctor to examine me, test my urine, and talk to me about my options. Since I was only four weeks into nine months of carrying, if I needed to terminate the pregnancy I could. “Naw, Doc, I'll just take the prenatal vitamins. This one here is a keeper.” Rubbing my stomach feeling like I'd hit the jackpot; Jimmy had fathered this child so it was about to be smooth sailing from here.
 
1996: James
 
“How much longer is this going to go on, Jim? I can't keep taking this treatment, especially carrying our child!” Waddling into the living room as I was coming in from Shawntay's house, Beth's usual makeup-beaten face was pale, covered in streamlines of tears.
I didn't feel like hearing this with the investors just leaving a message about going elsewhere with their investment, but what other choice would I have? A woman scorned would run through flames to be heard.
“You promised me you'd quit but you've been seeing this black bitch more and more.” Beth was my wife and partner going on ten years. She was the one who'd orchestrated the meetings in the first place, knowing our son would take her away from being a fifty-fifty partner in our company. I knew the extra stress of me still not having a successful investor would send her into early labor definitely, so if nothing else as a man I had to find a way to ensure our future. Had it not been for her business brain and nurturing woman instincts, I would've never taken a leap of faith to start my own company so I owed her at least that. Beth had never made me lose trust in her, being faithful and loyal to the Schultz name since I placed the two-karat diamond ring on her finger. Had I not been addicted to the sweet smell of black pussy, I wouldn't be ruining my seemingly perfect marriage.
Kicking my shoes off, falling onto the couch, I was sloppy drunk from drinking the entire bottle of Absolut myself tonight. It had definitely been an occasion to get totally fucked up. Hearing Beth whine about my fetish when it had come back to bite me in the ass for sure wasn't high on my list. “Come on now, honey, the Schultz men have been the same for generations. You knew this, your mother knew this, hell, your mother's mom knew this. We like side pieces of black meat to accompany our perfect lives.” As if Beth wasn't shocked enough with her jaw dropped to the floor, I kept going with my unbearable words. “If your prude ass weren't so stale to the idea, we'd move Shawntay in to help you cook, clean, and fuck me. It'd be like that
Sister Wives
bullshit on TV.”
“Go to hell, Jim! A family full of sick bastards is what I've married into. And to think I'm having a son; I hope he doesn't get cursed with any Schultz DNA. You stay out here on the couch tonight; you're not allowed in our room or at the doctor's appointment in the morning.” Stomping off, Beth thought she'd thrown a small dagger; but, no, I had to have the last word.
A drunk's tongue spoke an honest word because the liquor made it impossible for the mind to control the mouth's conversation. Simply put: a drunk ain't shit. “No problem, sweetheart. Sleep tight. I'll just call Shawntay up to let her know I'm free for our baby's appointment.”
Hearing her heeled slippers stop clicking on the marbled floor, I knew she was probably fuming, reading to kill strike for blood. “What the fuck did you just say to me, James Theodore Schultz III? Did I hear correctly? The nigger mistress is pregnant?” Beth's words got louder and louder as the clicks from her heels got closer. Once she appeared in the living room again, Beth was holding a vase, ready to aim and toss my way. “Now is not the time for silence, James.”
“You heard me, Beth, there's no need to repeat—”
“You're a sick, trifling, dirty, cheating bastard!” She threw the vase in my direction.
I dodged to the left just as it grazed my head then shattered to a million pieces onto the hardwood floor.
“I can't believe you're sleeping with her dirty black behind without a condom! How dare you expose me to all her filthiness and germs?” Running toward me like she wasn't eight months pregnant or a woman with the lighter hand, Beth saw nothing but red and wanted instant revenge. Out of all the affairs I'd had, she'd never reacted so out of control. But then, too, I'd never slipped up in such a way.
“Calm down, Beth, it can't be undone. Just accept it so we can move on from this,” I slurred, grabbing her arms to keep her from hitting me.
“Calm down? Accept it? You having a baby with your nigger-loving mistress is not something I could just move on from, Jim! You don't love me or this family.” Crying hysterically, Beth couldn't stop twisting her arms, trying to pull herself away from me. My grip was too strong. “You're hurting me; just stop it and let me go.”
“Not until you quit fighting me back. Wrong or not, you will not be allowed to tear this house or me up. This horrid situation is not going to go away, Beth, I'm sorry.”
“As God is my witness, Jim, you better make it. If not, that kid will never exist to me. It will never be allowed in this house, to know my son, or to carry the Schultz name. You created it in the streets, so that's right where it will stay.” Beth didn't blink, stutter, or give an insinuation that she was to be taken lightly. “And for that rodent you let become an intrusion into this family's wealth, she's to be cut the fuck off. I didn't struggle with you to help her live a better life, believe it.” No longer fighting but staring me straight in the eye, Beth's weakness turned to a vindictive bitterness. She'd seldom cursed, usually speaking in a soft, loving tone; but at this moment, my wife meant business.
“Beth—” I tried to speak but was cut off again. Snatching her hands away from me, I'd become the weak link to a woman scorned.
“You've said too much of nothing already. I'll be calling your mother plus the lawyer in the morning to secure my best interest. If you try any funny business continuing to go against the grain, I'll take everything you have; plus you'll never see my son.”
Chapter Four
Shannon
 
My calves were aching, my behind had been smacked raw, and I'd consumed a bottle in shots of Patrón. Yes, indeed, I was feeling high on cloud nine. Bare Faxxx had been turning over men left and right. It was lovely for all of the girls on shift because each crowd came with even longer cash than the last. Frank's eyes were lit up with greed each time a dancer led a John Doe to the back. No doubt even Isis was gonna eat like a pig tonight. Wrapping up my last dance, I tossed the few dollars I'd made from freaking up on him into my bag then made a beeline for the bar. “It's been like a madhouse in here tonight. Dolly, let me get another shot.”
“Damn, girl, you better slow down. I've been watching Isis and her girls stalk you out with the evil eye all night. I don't trust 'em.” Setting a bottle of water down onto the bar instead, Dolly called herself being motherly but it was just pissing me off.
“I get you're trying to be helpful and all, Dolly, but I've got this. These bitches don't want none of what I've got stored up.” Picking the bottle up, cracking the top open, I downed almost half of the hydrator before slamming it back down. “Now my shot, please!”
“That's on you. Don't say I ain't told ya little young ass nothing.” Walking away to fill my order, she threw her hand up with brashness then mumbled some smart shit underneath her breath. Dolly was known for getting hostile when her word wasn't taken as gospel. We could be cool behind these walls all day long but I wasn't looking for an accomplice, comrade, or an ace boon coon. She ain't know my life or the type of shit I'd lived through, so I wasn't into backing down or taking advice easily. Me and friends have never mixed and Shawntay didn't play the motherly role often. Let's just say it was hard for me to recognize real; the barmaid actually had my back. Whatever the case, Isis could come for me if she wanted. I had something for their slick asses tonight.
As men trickled through the door in small groups, I worked the VIP sections for the rest of the night, only doing one additional stage show. The ballers who bought booths out made it rain enough for me to stay content. Turning the gold bottles of Moët up, guzzling the last drops then licking the rim, I imitated deep throating it seductively because I knew they secretly wanted head.
“I can unbuckle my pants to see if you've truly got skills.”
“You're gonna have to pull the lint from your pockets first.” Turning to face the man who had such nerve to talk so slickly without having at least a Benjamin in his hand, I was caught off-guard at how handsome he was. Usually not into white men, this one here was something different.
“Lint? What is that a joke? I've got more than a pocketful of money, little lady.” He laughed, pulling a knot of cash from his denim jeans pocket. “Whatever you charge for your services, I can pay double.” Lifting his fitted Detroit Tigers hat up so I could see his face, I was caught off-guard at how handsome he was.
“It's twenty-five dollars a song in the private room, which totals fifty dollars for you.” Running my fingers through my long, curly hair, I batted my eyelashes trying to seductively seduce him.
“I'll need five hundred dollars' worth of your time.” Standing up, peeling five crisp one hundred dollar bills from the knot, he waved them past my face awaiting an answer. “Do I pay you or that wannabe pimp houseman over there?” Casually pointing toward Frank, I saw him watching with a keen eye all in our conversation.
“Never mind him, baby, right this way.” Wasting not another moment from taking my guaranteed car note and insurance from his pale fingers, I grabbed his hand in mine knowing I'd just hit a lick. Walking through the club with my sexy white boy close behind in tow, I could feel the hate from everyone including Dolly.
If these skeezers would focus more on getting money than my redbone fine ass, their bread game would be up.
The hallway of private rooms was in the back of the club monitored by one of Frank's workers. Right before the entrance we were flagged to hold off for a few minutes as a dancer and customer were finishing up. Letting the attendant know we were up next, I tipped him twenty dollars for the extra assurance we wouldn't be bothered. Normally the rooms only hit us five bucks but special favors never were free.
“Looks like you're gonna have to give me a quick dance right here, right now while we wait.” Pulling me to the side, he forcefully bent me over rubbing his midsection into my cheeks. I had no other choice with him being so forceful but I really wanted to find another place to freak him with Isis working right next to where he picked. “I ain't gonna be able last long with this juicy booty bouncing like this.”
Looks like I was close to right. Feels like a big dick but from the sound of it, he's a quickie. This private session ain't gonna be about shit!
Jiggling, twerking, and pushing my fat ass farther back up on him I felt his big bulge—in both his pocket and crotch. Moving his hands from my waist, I soon saw dollars falling onto the floor then his hands rubbing the sides of my thighs. “That's right, baby, tell Butter how you like it.” More dollars fell on top of me then to the floor.
“I like it rough and raw.” He pulled me up from position to whisper even nastier things into my ear. I continued to work hard for the money but was enjoying every minute. Seeing the money pile on the floor growing, my pussy couldn't do nothing but get wet.
“Room's ready, Butter,” the attendant yelled over, waving at us.
“Let's finish this dance up behind closed doors, baby.” Bending down to pick up the money he'd paid me so far, I stuffed it into my wrist purse, ready to lead him toward the available room.
“Bitch, if you don't throw my motherfucking money back down, I'm gonna crack your pale face open.” Isis grabbed my wrist in mid-swipe.
“Get your dirty hands up off me wit'cha Jigaboo ass!” Snatching my arm back, I twisted my face up in disgust. I was tired of Isis coming at me from far left field.
“Ladies, ladies, play nice!” Dazz announced over the loud system, seeing a scrap getting ready to take place. “Take ya separate corners!”
“I'll see ya ass later, Butter; you can't slick nothing this way, bitch,” Isis spat, returning to her dance.
“Please believe I ain't worried.” Making sure I hadn't dropped a bill during the lightweight struggle, I snatched the white boy's hand up again as he waited by the side patiently so I could get to work.
The private room consisted of a couch, two chairs, a lamp, a small table, a sink, and sheets Frank made sure were bleached daily. There were bottles of Lysol, air freshener, bars of soap, and clean linen for us and the customers to get back smelling fresh after whatever behind-the-scenes action took place. Many women went by the motto of having no rules once the door shut, me included.
Once all the way inside with the door closed, the white boy took his seat on the couch, spreading his legs, getting comfortable. Checking the digital clock above the wall door for the exact time, the bouncer would let us know when time was up but I always tried to stay a few minutes ahead of the game.
As the music played, I gyrated my hips from side to side as he sat in a trance captivated by everything that was Butter. Dropping my top, I smiled. Making sure I threw in a few of my “guaranteed to have a man gone” signature moves, I could easily tell he was more than feeling me by the huge grin on his face. It was obvious he was going to become a regular.
 
Jay
 
“You have thirteen voicemail messages. To hear your messages press one.”
Climbing into my Audi still smelling the sweet scent of Butter lingering on me, I couldn't wait to hook up with her tonight. I knew she'd never turn a man of my caliber down. No low-budget woman could. Pulling out of the parking garage into traffic, I headed back to the hotel/casino where me and a few other business partners were staying. Marie had been calling me nonstop all night. Unluckily for her I'd been drained completely, making me not want to be bothered with her, our twins, or any responsibility that came with our arranged marriage. Since birth we'd been groomed for one another. What started as just an investment into my father's business had spiraled into much more. If it weren't for me marrying my parents' business investor's daughter, our family would've been starved out a long time ago. I'd been groomed since birth to be the perfect man: educated, professional, and successful. And my wife has been groomed in the exact same way. It was called keeping it in the family.
Marie was okay with the arrangement, being able to plan the most lavish fairytale wedding since first reading “Cinderella,” but the man in me had become bored having to stick to the routine. I was dying for excitement, desperate for a thrill, and tired of the mundane dullness that had become us. The only reason I'd knocked her up with the twins in the first place was to secure my position to always be around. I'd known since before the day we got married that I was a true Schultz man with the same disturbing desires.
BOOK: Around the Way Girls 9
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