Material Girl 2 (10 page)

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Authors: Keisha Ervin

BOOK: Material Girl 2
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“What up?” he finally answered.
Billie could hear loud music and people partying in the background. “Where are you? I thought you were going to bed.”
“No, I said good night.”
“So why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”
“’Cause you was on the phone.”
“Oh.”
Suddenly an awkward silence occurred. Billie didn’t know what to say or do. Knox had never been this nonchalant with her. Maybe Dylan was right. Maybe she had pushed him too far.
“You still haven’t told me where you are,” she finally said.
“I’m at the bar chillin’ wit’ my homeboys,” he stated dryly.
“You know when you’re coming home?”
“I’ll see you in a minute.”
“All right,” she said, not wanting to get off the phone, but Knox had already hung up.
After waiting over an hour for him to get home, Billie became fed up and slipped on a tank top, her white cardigan, a gold-plated bib necklace, khaki parachute pants, and a pair of coral-colored suede Pelle Moda pumps. To complete the look, she threw on a couple of thick bangle bracelets, grabbed her DVF chain-link, metallic leather bag, and threw on her Lanvin trench coat. Sure she was doing a late-night creep, but Billie Townsend Christianson never left the house looking a mess.
Minutes later, she arrived at the Social House, which was a hip new bar located on Broadway in the Soulard area of St. Louis. They served great bar food, and the happy hour and nightlife were even better. It was also Knox’s new place of employment. At night, he worked there, while during the day, he was a process server. Billie walked through the door and paid the entrance fee of five dollars.
She was slightly overdressed, but, oh well. Once her wristband was properly put on, she searched the crowd for her man when she found him playing pool with a hot, young white girl with boobs up to her chin. What made things even worse was the girl was dressed in a Social House uniform. Which was the equivalent of a Hooter’s uniform. Deciding that she wouldn’t take the ghetto gurl approach and immediately flip, Billie squared her shoulders back and sashayed over to them.
“Ahem,” she cleared her throat.
Knox turned around. “What you doing here?” he asked, surprised to see her there.
“I came to spend some time with you.” She looked across the table at the girl.
“Oh, I told you I was gon’ be home in a minute.”
“Yeah, well, I decided to take matters into my own hands.” Billie blinked her eyes and smiled.
“That’s what’s up,” Knox kissed her on the cheek. “You wanna play?”
“No, you two go ahead,” Billie stepped back wondering what she should do next.
“So where were we?” The girl smooth backed her long blond hair and grinned.
“Uhhhhh, I think it was my turn,” Knox replied, ready to throw down.
“Okay, hot stuff. Show me what you got.”
Hot stuff? What the hell?
Billie thought as Knox leaned across the table to make a shot. Although she was perturbed by his behavior, Knox’s entire demeanor still had Billie on the brink of convulsions. He rocked a black V-neck tee, black Levi slim fit jeans, and all-black leather Chuck Taylors like no other. The black rosary and G-Shock watch he sported took his ensemble to a whole nother level of fly. Billie didn’t know what to do, fuck him up or fuck him.
“So how long have you two been playin’?” Billie investigated.
“Since I got here,” Knox responded. “Jessica thinks she can beat me in pool.”
“Oh really?” Billie glared at her.
Not knowing whether she should stay or leave, Jessica stood silently with the pool stick in her hand.
“Let me introduce myself since Mr. Rudeness here didn’t. Hi, I’m Knox’s wife, Billie,” Billie said, walking around the table and extending her hand.
“Ohhhhhhhhh, hi. I’ve heard so much about you.” Jessica shook her hand energetically.
“Really? I’ve heard nothin’ about you.” Billie looked back at Knox, giving him the evil eye.
“Would you like something to drink? I could get you something from the bar? We have Bud Light on tap tonight for a dollar.”
“No, thank you.” Billie released her hand and wiped it on the side of her pants. “I’m not a Bud Light kinda girl. Besides, I don’t wanna keep my husband from hanging with his homeboys. As a matter of fact, where
are
your homeboys?” she looked angrily around the bar.
“They all at home laid up with their wives,” Knox stared her square in the eyes and took a swig of his beer.
Swallowing the bitter substance, he slammed his beer down hard on the table beside them and said, “Jessica, it’s your turn.”
“Okay,” she skipped. “Eight ball in the corner pocket.”
As Jessica leaned over the table attempting to make her shot and her cleavage said hello to everyone in the room, Billie felt herself on the brink of shanking everyone within a five-foot radius.
“Excuse me, sweetie, but can you give us a second,” Billie said, ready to kick some ass.
“Sure,” Jessica put her stick down and walked away.
“Okay, now that li’l Rachel Uchitel Jr. is gone, what’s up?” Billie asked Knox with an attitude.
“What are you talkin’ about?”
“Knox, please don’t make me show every bit of my ass up in here. You know damn well what I’m talkin’ about.”
“What?” he shrugged his shoulders. “I’m up here playin’ pool. It’s a Friday night, I wanted to spend some time wit’ you, but you wanted to gossip on the phone all night wit’ yo’ girlfriends, so I shook. Now I guess you got some free time on your hands.”
“As a matter of fact, I do. So what’s up?” She put her purse down on the table next to his beer. “You ready for me to whoop yo’ ass in some pool?” Billie grabbed a cue stick.
“You don’t want none,” Knox said, loosening up.
“Don’t talk shit,” Billie exclaimed, taking her first shot and making it. “Looks like it’s gon’ be a long night, playboy,” she stared at him then winked.
Billie and Knox knew that their moment of bliss would only last but for so long. A storm was brewing between the two of them, and unfortunately, neither of them knew how to stop it.
 
“All my new bitches seem to get old real quick.”
Miguel Feat J. Cole, “All I Want Is You”
9
Finally the day had arrived. Dylan was decked out from head to toe. Her rocker chic haircut was freshly cut and styled to perfection. As a gift to herself, she rocked an extra cute pale pink soft chiffon dress with a one-shoulder rosette corsage detail. The hem of the dress hit her mid thigh, highlighting her firm legs and nude platform sandals.
Chandelier earrings hung from her ears while a vintage Rolex watch gleamed from her wrist, completing the look. The guests at the baby shower couldn’t get over how absolutely darling she looked. Dylan, on the other hand, couldn’t stop fawning over the décor. Billie had outdone herself. Outside in the center of Billie’s half-acre backyard was a huge white tent. Once you walked inside, green Yoko Ono poms tied with ribbons hung from the ceiling, setting the tone for the modern, yet ladylike vibe Billie and Tee-Tee had created.
On the tables were white and apple-green linens. Towering floral arrangements of orchids and twigs played perfectly against the silver charges and menu cards. When the guests arrived, they were greeted with glasses of pink rosé and hand painted place cards. Dylan was overjoyed with how many people came out to celebrate her impending bundle of joy. All of her old club buddies were there, including Kema, Gray, Heidi, Mina, Mo, Unique, and bestselling author Chyna Black. Her hairstylist and makeup guru Delicious was also in attendance. While waiting for the baby shower games to begin, the women stood around in their garden dresses catching up.
“Honey, you are wearing that dress for real,” Gray complimented Dylan. “And I love those earrings.”
“Thanks, small children made them,” Dylan winked, smiling.
“You are a mess.”
“So what’s the T on the daddy-to-be? Is he coming?” Delicious pursed his lips.
“He’s supposed to be.”
“I know you are hatin’ that he is with that one photoshoot-away-from-being-Chippy-D heffa, Milania.”
“I’m fine,” Dylan lied. “He’s moved on, and I’m okay with that. My main concern is my baby. And when the time comes, I’ll meet somebody new.”
“Trust me, honey, you’ll find someone.” Heidi finished off her third glass of champagne obviously buzzed. “Well, after you lose all that baby weight, but even then, you’ll still have to go much older, ’cause these young niggas ain’t tryin’ to be tied down to no chick wit’ no baby. Just remember to schedule a tummy tuck at the same time as your C-section,” she added.
Did this bitch just call me fat?
Dylan wondered.
“Right now, I don’t care how old he is,” Dylan continued on with the conversation. “I just wanna find a good man that can fuck me good. I mean, I wanna get fucked so good that afterward I just wanna buy him something. Be like, nigga, you don’t need no tires, an oil change, nothin’.”
All the women cracked up laughing.
“Now, Dylan,” Kema chimed in, tilting her head to the side, “we all know that a good man and a good dick don’t come in the same package.”
“Who told you that lie?” Tee-Tee shot her a look. “’Cause my man puts it dooooown.”
“You got that right,” Gray agreed, giving Tee-Tee a high five.
“Hold up, hold up, hold up!” Kema waved her hand. “I’m not sayin’ that a good nigga can’t fuck you good, but ain’t nothin’ like a nigga that treat you like shit fuckin’ you. Shit, that muthafucka will have you hemmed up in the corner shakin’.”
“Got that right!” Gray waved her hand in the air.
“Girl, shut up. You making me have flashbacks,” Chyna fanned her face with her hand.
“All right, enough of talkin’ about penises. Where in the hell is the food?” Dylan searched the tent with her eyes.
“Calm down, greedy ass. The or devers will be out in a second,” Tee-Tee explained.
“Aunty,” Billie’s twin daughters, Kenzie and Kaylee, skipped over, “if you’re really hungry you can buy some boxes of our delicious Girl Scout cookies,” Kaylee batted her eyes.
“How much are they?”
The two girls looked at each another and replied in unison, “Fifteen dollars.”
“Apiece?”
“Yes!” they said at once.
“That’s pretty expensive for some damn cookies, don’t you think?” Dylan stared at them quizzically.
“What?” Kenzie cocked her head back. “We gotta make a profit too.”
“Get yo’ li’l ass away from me,” Dylan tightened her lips.
“Aww, man,” Kenzie groaned, snapping her fingers.
“I told you fifteen dollars was too high.” Kaylee hit her sister on the arm as they walked away.
“I can’t stand they li’l cute behinds,” Dylan laughed.
“Ain’t they a mess,” Tee-Tee took a sip of champagne.
“Sidebar,” Delicious tapped Tee-Tee on the shoulder. “Who is that big ole piece of meat right there,” he pointed.
All of the ladies and ladyboys followed Delicious’s hand.
“You can calm down, honey. That ain’t nothin’ but State,” Tee-Tee’s upper lip curled.
“Honey, he is fiiiiiiiiine! Mmm, I think my panty’s wet.”
“I can not deal with you two,” Dylan laughed, greeting State with a hug.
“What up?” He wrapped his arms around her waist.
“You, you look nice.”
“Thanks, so do you,” State let her go.
Delicious cleared his throat, getting State’s attention.
“How you doing?” He extended his hand doing a dead-on impersonation of Wendy Williams.
“What up?” State gave him a head nod.
“Oh my God-oh my God-oh my God!” Billie came running toward the tent in a panic.
“What’s going on?” Dylan turned to see what the uproar was about and spotted trouble.
“Chunky!” Candy walked across the lawn with her arms spread wide.
“Oh, hell, no!” Dylan stomped her foot.
“
Now
it’s a party,” Tee-Tee cackled.
“What the hell is
she
doing here?” Dylan whispered out of the side of her mouth.
She could feel the baby moving around in her stomach.
“I don’t know,” Billie breathed in deeply, trying to catch her breath. “Security told me that she was tryin’ to use a bottle of Jack as ID to get in.”
“This is
not
happening to me,” Dylan tried to pretend like she was having a bad dream.
“There my baby is!” Candy stumbled into the tent with a bottle of Jack Daniels half full in hand, fixing her twisted skirt.
It took everything in Dylan not to scream.
“Candy in the ho-u-u-u-u-u-use! Watch ya’ mouth!” she broke it down to the ground, popping her booty.
“Mama, what are you doing here?” Dylan hissed.
“You know yo’ mama don’t miss no party!” Candy wobbled from side to side.
“But nobody invited you so how did you find out?”
“Yo’ mama knows everything. Shit, I know when the last time you farted. Which must have been a minute ago ’cause I smell something a li’l suspect in the air.” Candy pinched her nose.
“I did not fart!” Dylan looked around, embarrassed.
“It’s okay if you did, friend,” Tee-Tee rubbed her arm. “We all get a li’l gas er’ now and then.”
“Shut up.” Dylan pushed him away.
“Auntie, don’t mind her.” Tee-Tee hugged Candy. “How you been, girl? You look good.”
“You better ask about me.” Candy stepped back and posed.
She wore a black floppy hat, a halter top showcasing her newly enhanced forty-two DD implants, a zebra print pencil skirt, and patent leather, gladiator stiletto boots. Candy was the type of woman who made no secret that her plastic surgeon was her best friend. She’d had everything done: her nose, lips, breasts, stomach, butt, ears. You name it, she had it nipped and tucked. Candy looked like a well preserved wax figurine of Vanessa Williams.
“You betta work!” Tee-Tee snapped his fingers in a circle.
“And scene,” Candy bowed.
“Okay, am I the only one hallucinating here?” Dylan exclaimed, feeling like she was about to cry.
“Shit, girl, quit complaining. Mama’s here now, and I’ma make it all better.”
“No, you’re not. You’re making it worse,” Dylan whined.
Candy ignored her sarcasm and sauntered around the tent slowly.
“Nice decorations.”
“Thank you, Candy,” Billie beamed, pleased with herself. “I came up with the concept.”
“No wonder I feel like I’m in the Martha Stewart section at Kmart.”
“Dead!” Delicious hung his head and grinned.
“Aunty Candy!” Kenzie and Kaylee came running over.
“There my girls are! Gimmie some shugga.”
The girls gladly gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Did you bring us a present?” Kaylee asked, jumping up and down. “’Cause you know we like gifts.”
“I sure did, but you got to tell me something first.”
“Okay.” Kaylee rubbed her hands together, ready.
“What did Aunty Candy teach you about marriage?”
“That’s easy,” Kenzie flicked her wrist. “Never sign a prenup.”
“Y’all are growing up so fast.” Candy wiped a tear from her eye. “Here you go, baby.” She reached inside her purse and pulled out two mini whips. “Now, y’all go play.”
“Yeah!” the twins screamed, skipping off while waving their whips in the air.
“Kenzie and Kaylee, you better bring yo’ butt back here!” Billie yelled, chasing after them.
“Now I just need to know one thing!” Candy spun around, spilling her liquor. “Is this shindig open bar? ’Cause in a minute, my bottle gon’ need a refill.”
“Why me, God? Why me?” Dylan sighed, hoping Angel would arrive soon so she could have some kind of sense of relief.
 
 
R&B newcomer Miguel’s regretful tune
All I Want Is You
thumped softly from the surround sound speakers inside Angel’s penthouse suite. He stood against the window with one hand inside his pants pocket. The other held a freshly lit Cuban cigar. Buzzed from the cigar and the Jeremiah Weed sweet tea vodka he’d been sipping on for the past hour, he gazed at Milania’s frame from behind.
She’d just stepped out of the shower. The sun coming through the window highlighted her creamy honeycolored skin. Methodically, she dried her entire body with a plush white cotton towel unaware that at that moment she was Angel’s muse. Swaying her hips to the beat, she turned to the side and squirted lavender and vanilla-scented lotion into the palm of her hand, then sensually massaged it into her skin.
Angel watched closely as her fingertips traced her collarbone, then slid down her chest and kneaded her full breasts. Every part of her physique was taut, lean, and tantalizing. Her measurements were a perfectly crafted thirty-fourC-twenty-four-thirty-four. She possessed a flat stomach and shapely thighs. Her ass wasn’t Nicki Minaj big but ample enough to fill out a pair of skinny leg jeans. No grown man with two eyes and a functioning dick could dispute how fine she was, but neither her hips nor ass could compare to Dylan’s. Dylan was everything, and more, that Milania could never be.
“You must be as excited as I am,” she gazed over her shoulder and smiled.
“About what?” Angel eyed her, puzzled. “The shower?”
“No, silly, about the appointment we have today at The Sheldon.” She pulled her top on over her head.
“What appointment at The Sheldon?”
“The one that I told you about last week. The same appointment that I’ve had to reschedule now three times.”
“I know that you’ve had to reschedule a couple of times, but I ain’t know nothin’ about an appointment today.” Angel finished off the last of his drink.
“Well, I told you, so we can’t miss it. This appointment is important because it’s for our reception venue. I scheduled it for 2:30, so make sure you have everything you need ’cause the car will be here in fifteen minutes.” Milania slipped on a pair of slouchy sequined pants.
“You gon’ have to go by yourself, ’cause I’m not gon’ be able to make it.” Angel inhaled smoke from the cigar.
“Why?” Milania snapped her neck.
“’Cause I gotta go to my baby shower, that’s why. What you mean?” He screwed up his face.
“You mean
Dylan’s
shower?” she corrected him.
“
Our
baby shower,” Angel stressed so she would get the hint.
“Whateva,” Milania sat down on the bed and put on her Jill Sander’s, laser-cut, wood and metal pumps. “I honestly don’t give a damn if it was Mother Teresa’s baby shower. Are you coming with me or not, ’cause I’m not missing this appointment.”
“No, I’m not. I already told Dylan that I was coming, and I’m not gon’ change that.”
Milania closed her eyes. This was it. The moment she’d been dreading for months. She didn’t want to have a Mel Gibson moment and flip out, but Angel was taking her there. Enough was enough. There was only so much biting her tongue that she could do. It was time for Angel to see that she meant business.

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