I Never Said I Was a Good Girl

I Never Said I Was A Good Girl

By

Elle Welch

Copyright © 2015 Elle Welch

Published by Write House Publishing under TIECE Presents

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without prior written consent of the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to the real locals are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents are entirely coincidental.

Text TIECE to 22828 for Updates, Spoilers, Giveaways, Announcements, & any New Tiece Presents Releases.

Chapter 1: The Phone Call

‘NO! NO! Zaire, don’t do this! Please! I’m begging you!’ I screamed. I grab his arm, but he pulls it away and turns his back to me. I walk around to him so that I could look into his eyes. ‘I love you!’ He seems as though he was looking right through me, like I’m a ghost and he can’t see or hear me. I raise my hand to place it on his cheek and he swats it away like he is knocking an annoying fly out of the air. ‘I have sacrificed so much of myself even my DIGNITY for YOU! How could you not care?’ I cry.

‘What happened, Zaire? Why are you doing this?’ Tears streaming down my face as I beg the man that I love to make me understand. ‘You told me you loved me more than life itself! If that’s true; then how can you do this? Baby, don’t you remember?’ He continues to put his clothes in his suitcase as if I’m not even here.

‘You know all the things that I have done to ensure that we could be together and now you’re going to throw it all away?’ I asked. ‘Why won’t you talk to me? STOP Zaire! Please look at me.’ I feel like if I can just get him to look at me, he will realize what he is doing and change his mind.

‘I killed for you! I even chose you over ” MY” baby Zaire! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?’ I wail. I fall down on my knees at his feet, looking up at him, hoping something will get through to him. I hold my breathe as he looks down at me, clearly unmoved by my pleas. He smiles, walks around me, grabs his things off the bed and walks out the door.

I wake up and take in a big gulp of air before I realize that I am clutching the sheets with both hands. Tears are running back towards my ears like ocean waves rushing to the shore. My heart is aching, as if this nightmare really just happened. It takes a few minutes for me to recover from my nightmare, to bring myself back to the here and now, but I’ve gotten use to having this nightmare over the years. And when I finally do open my eyes, I look up at the ceiling and say,
"Good Morning World;
I’ve come a long way!"

Today is the grand opening of my new salon, Polished By Brazille. I think back to when I was sixteen years old, hearing my mother say to me that I was never going to amount to anything; as she slammed the front door, en route to her weekly Friday night card party, leaving me home to babysit my eight year old brother, her pride and joy. I smile as I think about how wrong she was. My very own nail salon. I can't wait to get this first day started. 

This salon has been my passion for so long and once I get PBB off the ground, I can start making some of my other dreams come true. Starting with upgrading the hooptie I’m currently driving and moving out of this apartment building. Living on the 3rd floor and my love of heels just don't mix!

I rolled over, looking at my alarm clock on the nightstand, and sigh at the time in electric red 4:30 AM staring back at me. 'Well, the only way I am going to get this day started is by getting up, showered and dressed so that I can get to the shop by 6am,' I decided. ‘Since sleep has deserted me, I may as well get up to make sure that everything is perfect for my grand opening at 9 AM,' I told myself, throwing off the covers and getting out of bed.

I walk into the bathroom, closing the door , brushing my teeth and turning the shower on so the bathroom can get warm and steamy the way I like it. While I’m waiting, I look at myself in the floor length mirror on the wall, I take in the sight of my caramel sikn, size fourteen frame that is plump in all the right places. My purple lace nightie hangs just right. My 38DD breasts are full, sexy and topped with chocolate areolas and thick nipples. My stomach is flat but feminine and my hips curves in just the right place to give me that perfect hour glass shape that men love to chase. My butt is the masterpiece that people like, that the Kardashians buy; implants and injection to emulate. I blow a kiss at myself, smiling and loving me.

As I stand there admiring myself, I realize for the hundredth time, that I have been working so hard at getting this salon up and running, and proving my mother wrong, that I haven't had time to date anyone.
"I really have to change that,"
I say out loud to myself, hoping that putting it into the universe will really make it happen. I let my nightie and panties drop to the floor as I step into the shower. The hot water hits my smooth caramel skin, bringing out a sigh and a slight moan. I stand there just for a moment and let myself relax and enjoy the water falling down, caressing my body, and allow my mind to run free. After a moment I grab my favorite shower gel, Mad About You, and squeeze some on to my purple loofah and begin to wash myself. 

I realize that I am in a zone when my arm grazes my nipple and takes me out of my trance. I then look down and notice how erect they are. The sight of my nipples just reminds me of how much in need I am of a man's touch. I continue to wash, unconsciously biting my bottom lip, and paying close attention to my perky and sensitive breasts. My hands begin to circle my engorged nipples, rubbing them and sending shockwaves through my body. Next my right hand moves down over my stomach, not stopping until it crosses my neatly trimmed mound. I slowly slip two fingers into my velvet and begin to massage my clit with my thumb while I pinch my nipples with my left hand. It feels so good that I get lost in the feeling, lost in the fantasy of sharing this shower with my Dream Man and before I know it a moan escapes my lips and my breathing becomes erratic and I can feel myself coming close to a climax.  As my body begins to shake and I start to feel my juices flow onto my fingers I lean back against the shower wall and let the wave take over. Just as I shiver through the last aftershocks of my orgasm, I hear my cell phone ringing, but I can't answer it because my body is still tingling and my legs are weak from the explosion. 

I finish washing myself and my hair, so I can wear it down with the wet and curly look today.  I step out the shower, grab my cell and check my missed calls.  Like i figured, it was Chyna- My sister from another Mister.  We've been best friends since tenth grade and have helped each other through the good and the bad. I dial her number as I wrapped a trowel around my still damp body. By the third ring I'm thinking 'This chick just called me. Where is she? She better be up getting ready so she can meet me at the salon at 6am'.

She picks up on the fourth ring
, "Hello."

"Chyna are you up? It is five o'clock and we need to be at the salon by six."

"Brazille, girl, you know I'm up cause we have to make sure that everything is on point for this grand opening! I was just getting out the shower calm down,"
Chyna says while laughing at how nervous I sounded. 

I laugh back,
"Okay, I was nervous when it took you so long to answer the phone cause you know you are not a morning person."

"Girl bye!"
she says, sucking her teeth. 
"I will be at the salon at six sharp."

"See you then Lady,"
I say, still laughing as I end the call.

I lotion my body before putting on a purple lace bra and thong set from Victoria's Secret and then slipped on my purple silk Michael Kors jumpsuit before doing my makeup and going over to my closet to grab my gold Jimmy Choo six inch heels. I put on my jewelry while glancing at the clock and notice that I only have thirty minutes to get to the salon and it takes about twenty minutes to drive there. I'll have to hope that there's no traffic. As I cross the room to grab my gold Michael Kors purse off my bed, I decide to take a look in the mirror and make sure that my look is on point. I mean, I'm a Diva on any day, but today I need to look like a Queen! With my outfit perfect, these amazing shoes and this Mac makeup doing its job, I am FLAWLESS baby! Hell, as much as this makeup set my pockets back it should be able to run the salon for me. I take in my look and begin to smile loving the way this purple Kesha Dior lipstick looks on my full lips. My curly blond colored locks are spiraling down to the mid of my back covering up the cut out in the back so I decide to pull my hair over my right shoulder. Yes, now my look is complete. I blow another kiss at myself and spin around with Beyoncé singing in my head, then I head out the door. 

As I approach my car I realize how much I hate Pane and can't wait to trade him in for my dream car, a gold on cream Volvo S80. I got in the car and shut the door affectionately, then rub the dashboard. "Pane don't get me wrong you have really been good to me but this relationship is going to come to an end soon and you are going to be a blessing to someone else," I tell my trusty 1995 Toyota Corolla. I chuckle to myself thinking that my outfit certainly doesn't match the look old Mr. Pane is giving off, but whatever I am almost there. 

I am cruising down the highway, doing 65 miles per hour, when I begin to think about how badly I want this salon to work. I hope everything comes together like I want because I've spent the last five years living on nothing and working at sub-par, mom’s and pop’s nail shops being paid a fraction of what my work is worth; just trying to save up for this very moment. In the past year I only splurged on things that had to do with the salon. Well that and this outfit I am wearing. This has to work. I need this to work. I don't have any other options. This is my one shot to achieve my goal of being an upscale nail artist. My heartbeat speeds up as I take my exit and see my sign in the distance. This is the grand opening of my salon! Not someone else's but mine! This was the start of me building “MY” brand instead of going out to purchase and admire someone else's vision. Today is going to be epic.

Just when I have begun to get my heart rate under control I took a right into the parking lot of the salon and pulled into my parking space with a complete name plaque and all. As I read my name, Brazille English over and over again, as I looked at how beautiful the purple calligraphy letters looked against the gold plated metal I began to beat the steering wheel with my fist over and over as I yelled "Yes! I did it!" Everything was beginning to sink in. This is “MY” parking spot in front of “MY” salon with “MY” salon name printed on a beautiful sign hanging over “MY” double glass doors. I look into my rearview mirror and said, "You look gorgeous and your salon is going to be the talk of the town. I am about to take Atlanta by storm and then the world."

Just when I grab the door handle to open the car door my cell phone rings. While I am reaching into my purse searching for my cell I scan the area for Chyna's car which I don't see. I grab my phone and hit talk without checking the caller id.
"Chyna please tell me you are around the corner because it is 5:55 AM."
As I begin to hear the voice on the other end I realize I don't recognize the voice which is now saying
"Bitch the time is going to come when you are going to wish that the worst thing that was happening is your friend is running late for your little grand opening!"

I try to keep my cool as I ask
"Who is this?"

"Oh you will find out soon enough because I am about to wreak havoc on your life you bitch!"

Chapter 2: Chyna

'Oh this girl drives me absolutely crazy! Always freaking out. I am telling you I am not in the mood for this! Chile she knows I ain't a morning person,' I vent to myself, head shaking, when I hang up with Brazille. As I lay my phone down on the counter so I can continue to dry myself off, I hear a text notification. 'What the hell now?' I quickly pull up my text to see who it is because if it's B I am going to lose all control. Even better it's Joaquin. My eyes roll so far back in my head, I almost go back to sleep.

Chyna I really miss u and I want us to work things out but I just need u to be a little more understanding and patient for a little while longer....

I don't even bother reading the rest of his sad text. I am sick of him, sick of us, sick of this tired sad ass nonexistent relationship or situationship or whatever the hell this is. I turn my cell off and go to my bedroom to get dressed. Walking down my hallway I see the grandfather clock at the end of the hallway and scream, "Shit! How is it already 5:40?!” Thank God for this natural fro I’m rocking the hell out of because I damn sure don’t have time to do anything to my hair. I grab my blue boyfriend style jeans, pull them up over my size 16 hips and butt and pull down my purple custom made tank with the Polished By Brazille logo in gold on the front. I can’t wait until Brazille sees it! Plus, I made sure to get it a size too small so it really shows of my 36 C breasts. I grab my oversized gold hoop earrings off the dresser and put them on as I slipped on my gold Kellcie thong sandals that I picked up last week from Nine West. I smiled at how they set off my perfectly pedicured, lavender-polished toe nails that B detailed with a few gold colored Swarovski crystals. It certainly pays to have the greatest nail professional of all time as your best friend!

I head for the front door and just as I locked the top lock I realize that I left my phone in the bathroom on the counter. I growl, unlock the door and race back through my all white living room. For some reason I had a flashback to when I was a little girl and my mother and I were living with my Nana. She would have killed anyone who was in her all white living room at all, never mind running through it at the rate I was going. That living room was for guests only and Nana didn’t play! She even had that heavy ass plastic that would stick to you and make you all sweaty in the summer time and freeze the mess out of you in the winter time. This was my tribute to her and a way of keeping her close to me. I smile as I enter the bathroom, grab my phone off the counter and rush back out.

I know that if I’m late it is going to be an all-out brawl at Polished By Brazille instead of a grand opening.

I back down my driveway at 5:50 AM and I did eighty miles per hour the whole ride to the salon. I am praying I don’t get pulled over by the cops. God must be looking out for me this morning because I made it to the shop without incident and pulled my fully loaded, all black with butterscotch leather interior BMW X6 in to my spot next to Brazille, in that old beat up ride she named Pane, right at 5:59 AM.

I turned off the engine and walk over to B’s car, ready to get this Grand Opening started. “
See girl, I told you I’d be here! Now let’s get ready to kick some ass and do some nails!”
I yell, walking up to Brazille’s passenger side. “
We ain’t got time for you to be chillin’ in the car! Let’s go!”

That’s when I notice that she’s just sitting there, keys in one hand, staring straight ahead. Her eyes are wide, like a deer in headlights Nana would have said, her mouth is hanging open and she looks a little flushed, as flushed as someone the color of Sugar Babies candy CAN look at least. I follow her gaze thinking maybe I missed something or someone but there was nothing there to miss. There’s no one out here but us and the shop hasn’t even been unlocked yet. I open her passenger side door and lean in, that’s when I notice that she is also shaking.

“B what is wrong? Why are you shaking? Did something happen?”
I ask, trying not to freak out.

Brazille does not even respond she is still frozen with what seemed to be fear. I begin to panic so I punch her right arm with maybe a little more force than I intended.

“
Brazille! B! What is wrong with you? You are scaring me!”
I don’t know if it was the hit or the yelling that broke her trance but she finally turned to me as if shocked that I was standing there.

“
Oh Chyna-girl! I’m sorry. I zoned out for a minute. I think it is just from all the excitement of what is going to happen today. I’m good. Really, I’m okay,”
she says like she wasn’t just in La-La Land twenty seconds ago.

“Brazille don’t ever do that to me again! I was about to call the paramedics for your ass! Seriously what is going on? That didn’t seem like you were happy or excited about anything. It seemed as though you were scared out of your mind.”

In true Brazille English fashion she completely changes the subject.

“Oh-Em-Gee, girl, where did you get that tank top? You look so divalicious in that purple! Why didn’t you tell me you were getting one made I would have ordered one too!!”

“B, don’t think I didn’t noticed how you changed the subject,” I say sucking my teeth. “I know something is up but I’ll play your little game for now since it is your day. I didn’t tell you about the tank top because I wanted to surprise you today and have this be another way I show you how much I support you and how proud of you I am.”

“Now you got me here tearing up. Thank you so much. I love you girl,”
Brazille says as she leans over for a hug.

I hug her back.
“I love you too. I almost killed myself getting here for six o’clock lets hurry up and get inside so I can see the décor since you wouldn’t let me in for the past 2 months,”
I say, lips pressed and eyes rolling.

Brazille gets out of her car, grabs her purse and drops her phone in it. We both walk up to the double doors. Brazille takes out the key and gets ready to put it in the lock when she stops and looks at me, beaming.
“I can’t believe this is happening. I am about to unlock the door to MY SALON!”
She starts jumping up and down and I join in, even though we look like fools.

“I know my sister- from- another-mother!! Come on let’s do this!”

She puts the key in the lock and turns the key and pulls on the big brass handles to open the door.

She steps inside and I follow close behind.  Brazille turns to the left and hits the light switch on the wall and the florescent lights begin to pop on like falling dominoes for what seemed like miles and miles going towards the back of the salon.  I look to my left and I see the L shaped marble desk and glass case that separates the receptionist area.  In big black cursive letters on the wall I see the word RECEPTIONIST.  I see a phone, large desk calendar, and a thirty inch HD flat screen Apple monitor with a touch keyboard. I love Apple products so that baby made me want to close my business as a publicist just so I could use that on a daily basis. Above the receptionist lettering I see a clear custom clock in the shape of a hand with stiletto nails perfectly manicured in gold.

“Brazille this is beautiful! You really put a lot of thought into everything,”
I say as I start walking towards the back of the salon.

“Thank you, girl!”

“Ooooh, I love the nail stations too! I should have known they were going to be purple but this shade of purple you chose really pops and the suede purple chairs with the PBB logo in black on the back of the chairs is hot. You killin ‘em B,”
I say, doing my best Jay-Z impression.

“Do you like the fish tank?”

“No you didn’t! That joker is built into the wall?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That thing is huge! How many gallons?”

“150 gallons.”

“Wow! But just know, if one of them things jump out, I’m gone!”

“Shiiitt…. You and me both,” B replied laughing. “Well we better get started putting on the finishing touches before we run out of time. These boxes are all nail polishes; they just need to be put in the racks on the wall. The racks are labeled by brand so it’s self-explanatory.”

I turn my head to the right and notice the fifteen extra-large purple glass nail polish racks hanging on the lavender colored wall. Above the racks in large black cursive writing I see OPI, China Glaze, Sinful Colors, Essie, Finger Paints, Louboutin. It seems like the names stretched for miles. This is when I realize that I am getting ready to earn each and every free pedicure and manicure I had ever received. I sighed grabbed the first box and got started.  While I do that, I’m wondering how such small bottles can be so heavy, I see B on the other side of the salon putting up some beautifully framed pictures of previous manicures she had done. They were absolutely breath taking.

“B, did you have a photographer take and frame your work for you? Because those are gorgeous! I like the fact that you used your work and didn’t resort to using the same boring generic photos all the other shops use.”

“Now you know I was NOT gonna be well with that. I would have left my walls bare before I did that. I can’t just go to Wal-Mart or Ye Olde Salon Picture Emporium or whatever and pick up the standard photo of some white chick’s hands from 1973, with that weak-ass French manicure and that single red rose.”
We bust out laughing thinking about how many salons have that exact photo. It was like you had to have one of those to open a shop.

The salon falls quiet for a while as we both get engrossed in our chores. However, the silence is broken when the salon phone begins to ring. Brazille climbed down off the ladder and runs up to the receptionist area bare foot.  She picks up the receiver and I hear her say
“Good morning! Are you coming to get Polished by Brazille today?”
I smile as I hear the joy in her voice and that big beautiful smile she always displays when she’s genuinely happy.  I was about to turn back around and continue to put nail polishes on the rack, or find some way to sneak off with those Jimmy Choos that Brazille left laying over there, when I see her face become frowned up, her smile quickly disappear and her eyes fills up with tears. I drop the polishes back in the box and began quickly walking up to the front of the salon.

“B who is that?! What is wrong? Oh my God! Why are you crying?”
Just as I get to the receptionist area I reach my hand out to grab the receiver Brazille slams the receiver down into its cradle and just stares at the phone.