I Never Said I Was a Good Girl (10 page)

Chapter 20: Zurich

I was surprised when I received a text message from Brazille. I was stunned when I read the text and she was inviting me to her place! I am telling you little Z stood straight up when I read that invite! I was almost too excited to text back.

She said she wanted to meet about nine thirty tonight. I told her of course I would be there. I was truly floating on air at this point. I am thinking maybe my plan has worked. I am hoping that when I get there she is apologetic and wants to try to make our relationship work. I am just a little skeptical that this meeting is about reconciliation because there is no way Brazille would come to that realization after seeing me just once. What did she want? I read the text ten times trying to figure that out. 

Zurich meet me at my place @ 9:30. We need to talk.

I am not sure what was on her mind but I can’t wait to be close to her again. I want to ask her what we need to talk about but I know she would just ignore the question now. So until I speak with her I will be left with my own hopes and dreams.

Brazille does everything her way and in her time. Chyna had really put me on the map because I NEVER would have been able to get B to agree to meet with me NEVER MIND at her apartment. That meant she was allowing me back into her world. I would now know where she lives something she would never tell me prior to our meeting with Chyna.

Brazille probably thought me coming to her apartment was no big deal because she probably figured Chyna had provided me with her address already. However, I had to really tread lightly with any questions I asked Chyna about Brazille because she really became irritated when we talked about her. And it’s hard enough to tolerate her in a good mood. So I actually had to ask Brazille for her address which she sent immediately, followed by a message saying:
like you didn’t already have it.
I just smiled to myself even harder.

Right now Brazille could say whatever she wants, that is how much this meeting means to me. I was going to use this once in a lifetime opportunity and make it “do what it do”. I want Brazille back. I need Brazille back. And maybe now she feels the same.

I get to her apartment ten minutes early. I debate on ringing the buzzer immediately but decided against it because my nerves are all over that place. I need to calm down so that I don’t blow my opportunity.

I am staring at the clock on the dash board willing it to read nine thirty while I reminisce on the first time Brazille and I had sex. She had made me wait over three months but it was well worth the wait. I came home from work and it had been an extremely stressful day. I walked into the house and headed back to the master bath to get a shower but to my surprise Brazille was in the tub with candles lit all around. I stopped at the doorway and stared at her beautiful body that she had on display for me. She stood up and walked down the three steps out the tub and came over to me, suds dripping from her nipples and caught in her neatly trimmed bush. She kissed me softly on my lips while she removed my shirt. She then made small kisses all over my chest using her tongue to circle around my nipples as she removed my pants and briefs. I was so turned on I thought I was going to cum before we even got started.

I reached down between her legs to try to put my touch her and she grabbed my hand and said that she was running this show. She motioned for me to get in the tub and I obliged. Once I was seated in the tub Brazille stepped in and stood in front of me with her legs slightly parted with her well-manicured crotch right in front of my face. I watched as she began to pleasure herself, rubbing her engorged clit as she slid one finger into her heat. I wanted to touch her so bad but I knew if I did I would mess up this treat I was about to get so I just leaned back in the tub stroked my dick and enjoyed the show. She began to wind her hips and lick her lips so I knew it was getting good to her. She let out a soft moan as she now pushed three fingers deep inside her secret garden.

She removed her fingers and bent down to place them in my mouth. Her juices tasted so good that I didn’t realize how vigorously I was stroking my little Z but, when Brazille did, she grabbed my hand which kept me from ruining the night by busting before I actually got to feel her pussy wrapped around me. She took a condom off the side of the tub and put it on Z while tenderly jerking Z up and down up and down until the condom was completely on and then she mounted me. I laid my head back on the tub and moaned as her velvet vice began to grip my rod.

I’m brought back to the present when a cab pulls up and beeps for someone in front of Brazille’s apartment building. I look at the clock and thank God for the interruption because it is now nine thirty. I pushed little Z down my left pants leg, jumped out the car and raced to ring the buzzer associated with her apartment number. She buzzes me right up.

I begin my ascension up to the third floor and with each step my heart beat gets faster and stronger. After pausing a couple of times to calm my excitement I made it to Brazille’s apartment door. I stood there for a few moments trying to gather my thoughts. My heart was beating so fast and hard that I honestly thought it was going to stop and I was going to go into cardiac arrest right there at her door step.

I attempt to lift my hand up to knock on the door when I notice it feels like I am trying to lift a bag full of concrete. I managed to knock on the door and let my concrete arm fall back to my side.

She opens the door looking as gorgeous as ever. She has her hair pulled back into a school teacher bun with her Michael Kors shades on top of her head. Her white shirt is stretched taut across her perfectly shaped boobs. Her black slacks are in no way hiding her thick shapely thighs and hips and certainly not her big juicy ass. I feel Z standing back up against my will.
“Zurich are you going to come in or should I just shut the door in your face?”
Brazille asks and then presses her lips together and places her right hand on her hip.

That’s when I realize that I’m just standing there staring at her. I get my thoughts together and step into her apartment.
“What’s up Brazille? Long time no see. To what do I owe this pleasure?”I ask.

“Don’t rate it as pleasurable just yet. Have a seat.”
She says and walks over to the kitchen table and takes a seat.

“Zurich I am going to get straight to the point. Why are you here? Why are you screwing Chyna? Someone, by the way, you couldn’t stand when we were dating!”
She leans forward on the table pressing her elbows down on it.

“Brazille, let’s talk about us instead. I don’t want to fucking talk about Chyna. When are you coming home?”
I look into her eyes hoping she will look into mine and soften her anger towards me.

“Oh my GOD!”
She throws her hands in the air and shakes her head.
“You are a fucking lunatic! I am NOT coming back to YOU EVER!”
She points at me like she really wanted to punch me in my face.
“Your home is just that: YOUR home. It was never and will never be my home!”
She slams her hands down the table.

“Brazille why are you so angry with me? All I have ever done is love you!”
I feel my anger building and my voice escalating as I try to maintain my cool.

“I summoned you here to answer MY questions not to entertain any of your ridiculous fantasies.”
She rolled her eyes so hard I thought she was having a seizure.

“B, if I answer your questions will you answer one for me?”
I ask, trying to sound strong.

She looks up to the ceiling as if trying to send a signal to the heavens, “
I will think about it. No promises”

I reach across the table and attempt to place my hand on top of her hands, just hoping for some human contact, but she snatches them off the table and glares at me. I sit back and let my back rest against the back of the chair as I sigh, little Z now forgotten.

“I came here for you. I came here because I want to find out why you walked out on me? Whatever went wrong I want to fix it so that I can have the love of my life back. Please Brazille just give me that. We were so good together,”
I tell her, laying my cards on the table.

“So where does Chyna fit into YOU getting ME back?”
Brazille asks, neck rolling.

I laugh, “
You know I can’t stand that bitch. I could actually strangle you for making me have to sleep with her just so that I could get close to you. She does give mean head though, something I could NEVER get you to do. So there are some benefits, I guess,” I say trying to hurt her if I can, “Seriously though I knew you wouldn’t agree to meet me any other way so desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“You’re a sick bastard!”
She stares at me with eyes as cold as a December morning.

“Brazille why can’t you see I am doing this for you? For us? I love you Brazille, and I know you love me!”
My voice drips with desperation but I can’t help myself.

“Why can’t YOU see for Me that there is no US and never was? That I don’t love you and NEVER have! You’re fucking pathetic!”
Her voice is heavy with sarcasm and disdain.

It took a minute for that last statement to sink in but once it did. I could feel my temperature rise, my eyes feel like they are going to pop out of my head and I realize that I am gripping the edge of the kitchen table so hard I think my fingertips are going to leave imprints in the stained wood. I slide my chair back from the table and walk out the front door. Brazille had given me everything I needed with that statement.

Chapter 21: Brazille

Omari and I have been doing great since that episode the first night at the house two weeks ago. I haven’t told him much of anything else, but he says he isn’t interested in who I was in the past but who I have grown to be.

I surprised myself when I gave him a key to my house but he had been staying with me just about every night and it just felt right. I don’t think there is a room left in the house that we hadn’t made love in. I bite the tip of my nail and smiled as I think about how I rode him in the Jacuzzi this morning before we left for work.

I’m glad Omari has a key so he can meet the moving company at the house. I had finally gotten motivated enough to go and pack up the rest of my things from the apartment and they were going to deliver them today while I was at work. Omari is going to pick me up from work this evening so that he can bring me by the apartment to do my walk through, return my keys and pick up Pane.

I am so excited to finally close that chapter of my life and begin this new chapter in my new house. Plus, I am so tired of having Omari take me back and forth so that I could grab little things I needed or had forgotten here and there. I can’t wait to put all my belongings away in the house. Then I can concentrate on decorating.

For the most part, the house was still empty except for the bedroom set Omari had delivered as a surprise last week. He came and picked me up for lunch last Thursday. He brought me back to the house and led me up to the master bedroom. I walked in and I was amazed. The bedroom set is a king size canopy style in that old world dark brown color. The posts were so tall and thick that they resembled four tall oak trees positioned at each corner of the bed. He had even gotten a dark purple comforter set with matching sham. The pillow cases and curtains hanging from the canopy were lavender which perfectly matched the color of my accent wall in the bedroom.

He didn’t stop there. He got two night stands that were huge and a dresser with a mirror that shared the same carvings as the posts on the bed. A vanity that is big enough for me and a girlfriend, if I had one, to sit at and do our make up together. There was also an armoire and a wardrobe to go with the bedroom set. I giggle when I think of the wardrobe because Omari said he got that so he would have somewhere to keep his clothes since I wouldn’t let him even store a pair of socks in my closet.

I find my hands between my legs when I think of the ottoman that is positioned at the foot of the bed. He had me bent over that in about fifteen minutes after arriving to the house. I lick my lips as I think of how good he felt ramming into me from behind as I held on to that ottoman for dear life.

He even had Gregg come and mount the seventy inch curved LED television on the wall for our viewing pleasure. I really can’t believe this man.

Something else I can’t believe is that it has been two weeks since I had that meeting with Zurich and I hadn’t heard from his punk ass. Nor had I heard from Chyna since our little get together at the salon. Chyna had not even been posting anything on social media, so that had me a little nervous. I wasn’t going to call her though. I had reached out for the last time weeks ago. She was the one at this point that owed me an apology.

I’m just glad it was Monday because my mind is all over the place and I have paperwork and orders to place up the ying-yang.

An instant message from Amber popped up just as I was thinking about how swamped I am.

Ms. English, I have a Mr. Jones on hold for you. Are you available?

Put him through.

“Hello Mr. Jones. How are you?”
I lean forward and prop my right elbow on my station and rest my head on my right hand as I wait for a response.

“Ms. English! I am well. How are you?”

“Great! How may I help you?”

“I received your email,” he says and l can hear the smile on his face. “And I just wanted to personally say thank you for doing business with me and that I hope I can work for you again sometime in the future.”

“You’re welcome! I am the one that should be thanking you because I really loved those extras you added in for me. I LOVED them! Oh that closet is a masterpiece! I do have an upgrade I would like to add to the house in the next few months so we will have to discuss that when the time is right.”

“Umm, I like the sound of that. What about lunch?” he asks.

“Well, right now I am swamped at work and I am definitely not ready to do the upgrade just yet.”

“That’s okay. I will have my assistant set something up with your assistant so that we can at least get the discussion going. Sound good?”

“That will work Mr. Jones. Thank you for your call. Have a great day!”
I say, ending the call.

I’m just moving the phone away from my ear when he says, “
You stay beautiful Brazille.”
I sat up and looked at the receiver like what? No this mofo didn’t!! Was he flirting with me? Alright Mr. Jones, I’ll see you. I place the receiver back in its cradle and smirk to myself.

I am pleased with how busy the salon has been. We actually have more customers than we can service during our current business hours even with me doing extra clients to help keep up with the demand. I am definitely going to have to make time to start interviewing so I can hire some more techs, but I’m trying to hold off and see how business is going to flow. I decide that I am going to check with my current techs to see if they will be willing to extend their hours at the salon to help with the overflow. It’s either that or I stop the walk-in part of our service completely. But if I do that, I may as well fire KaTasha’s ass now because that is basically all that she does. I also don’t like the idea of canceling walk-ins because that is like throwing money down the drain. And I’m definitely not about that life.

I send a group text; asking if everyone would be willing to work longer hours for now. Of course, David and Kenya were on board and KaTasha didn’t disappoint when she declined saying she wasn’t available.

I place a five thousand dollar order for more Louboutin designer nail polish. I’m happy we are getting a lot of demand for it because it brings up the cost for any service substantially when a client wants that polish. However, I’m concerned as well because it seems like my revenue isn’t showing that the Louboutin stock should have been down as low as it is.

I decide to check the reports so I could figure this out. Discrepancies like this is why I have my techs input all services performed on a particular client in our computer system under the clients name. Amber then pulls up the ticket and rings up the clients to make sure everyone is paying for the services they receive and not being discounted in ways they shouldn’t be. This also allows me to see how much money each tech is making and what supplies he or she is using and how much they use at any given point.

Looking at the reports I discover that the amount of Louboutin polish remaining is not coinciding with how much everyone has used since I opened. The gap is so big there can only be one reason why this would happen: one of these motherfuckers is stealing the polish.

I realize this just as Ms. Ghetto Fab gets up to take her lunch. I turn to my computer and pull up my surveillance program. When I had the salon built I spent an extra ten thousand dollars to have surveillance cameras hidden in several locations in the salon. I have been taught that you can never have too many eyes watching your back. I chose cameras because they would always be recording and watching and would always report truth and accuracy. I know better than to rely on any he-say/she-say bullshit. I understand that people are back stabbers so it was an excellent investment. Up until today I hadn’t had a reason to check the footage but now that it seems like supplies, very expensive supplies, are coming up missing I am going to take a look.

I check footage for several days and almost every day that I review, I see this bitch on camera stealing supplies and putting them in the bottom drawer of her desk. She mostly did it when Amber was in the back cleaning the break room or on lunch and my other two techs were too busy with clients to see what she was doing.

After viewing the footage, and taking several deep breathes, I walk over to her station and begin to search through the drawers. I find a small fabric Crown Royal bag under a sweater in her bottom drawer. This bitch must think it’s still 1987 or something, I mean who still has Crown Royal bags?? I open the bag and see that she has 7 bottles of Louboutin polish, 10 packs of Swarovski crystals, nail files, monomer, and a jar of acrylic in the bag.

I am beyond furious with this heifer! She’s stealing from me and more than likely doing nails out of her home and charging top dollar for my supplies. This certainly explains why she didn’t really have any clients coming into the salon. And why she didn’t want to work any overtime.

I’m seeing 13 different kinds of red right now, but since this is my business I am going to handle this professionally. Like a boss. What I really want to do is grab her by that ridiculous red hair she has and drag her ass up and down every Peachtree street in Atlanta. I really want to bust this girl dead in her thieving ass face! Stealing is just the ultimate betrayal, something I have never done and won’t be dealing with in my salon.

I have Amber help me bring the things in the break room and set them up on the table. David and Kenya just shake their heads and keep working. When Ms. Sticky Fingers returns from lunch, I will have her meet me in the break room so I can fire her ghetto behind.

I notice that KaTasha should be returning from lunch shortly, so I instant message Amber and tell her to direct KaTasha to the break room when she returns. I’m so pissed, I have to talk to someone before I explode and right now that someone is Omari. He goes through the roof when I tell him what’s going on. He said I was definitely doing the right thing by letting her go.

Hearing his voice calmed me down mentally but raised my freak meter by a hundred percent. We have been screwing like rabbits since he has been staying at my house and every time still feels like the very first time.

I am just about to tell him how much I want to fuck when KaTasha walks through the door. I end the call with Omari by reminding him to pick me up at five to drop me off at my old apartment.

I lay my cell phone in my lap and point to a chair across the table from me. “
Have a seat KaTasha.”
She doesn’t move. Her eyes are wide with disbelief like she can’t believe what was sitting on the table. I repeat myself saying,
“Please have a seat because I was hoping you could explain this to me.”
KaTasha just continues to stand there with her mouth open, shaking her head.

“I don’t…um…where…um?”
She stammers.

“
You seem to be having an issue forming complete sentences right now KaTasha so let me help you. Are you stealing from me?”

“No.”
She says while backing away towards the door.

“So now you are a liar and a thief?”
I ask.

“NO!”

“That was actually a rhetorical question. I got these things from in your station and that gave me all the answers I really needed. I no longer need your services here at Polished By Brazille. You are now excused.”
I cross my arms and lift my eyebrow, giving her a look like ‘why are you still standing here bitch. You have been dismissed.’

“Brazille…”
she says while approaching the table.

“Ms. English to you,”
I respond coldly.

“Bitch I didn’t want to work here anymore anyway!’
She says as she knocks all the items to the floor with one quick swipe of her arm across the table.

I stood up took a picture of the broken bottles on the break room floor “
Thank you for damaging over a thousand dollars’ worth of my property. Now I can keep your last check. If you want to take me to court for it please do, so that I can demand the highest penalty possible for the grand larceny that you’ve committed. I would also love the chance to put you on the big screen in front of the judge showing how you stole from me.”
I smile and tap my foot waiting for this trick to retort.

“Fuck you!”
She yells and turns to walk away.

“No, you actually fucked yourself and your children now that you are unemployed. Have a great day and an orgasm on that.”

KaTasha stomps her feet in defeat and continues to walk out the break room. She was going so fast that when I reached the break room door, she is already out the front door of the salon.

I have a discussion with my remaining employees, letting them know what has transpired and that starting on Saturday we would begin the extended hours. David says that he has a cousin who has been looking to get into a salon. I tell him to give her the salon number so that Amber can set her up for an interview. I also think about advertising on Instagram and fb for another nail tech.

I go back to my desk to finish going over the reports and placing orders right when Omari pulls up in front of the salon. I call him and tell him that I will be out in a second. I say goodnight to my employees, reminding them that Katasha is no longer allowed in PBB, and walk out to get in the car.

I sit down in the passenger seat next to Omari and I instantly become aroused. He is looking so fine with his Armani shades and white dress shirt with a grey white pink and black tie. He had on some grey dress pants that bring my eyes to the bulge between his legs. Looks like he’s happy to see me too! He leans over to kiss me saying,
“Hey B, you alright?”