The Glamorous Life (6 page)

“I’m not really feeling it, but I want you to go.”

“You sho?”

“Yup, I really want you to go. You feeling him, and he kept you away from your own party for like an hour. Girl, go and have a good time.”

“You sure?”

“Yup, I am. I’m going to get this stuff cleaned up, and I didn’t really drink much, so I can make it home fine.”

Egypt looked into Bambi’s eyes for a sign of disapproval. They both knew she was going off for a one-night stand with this man, someone she had only known a matter of hours. To her surprise she got something that was almost mind-blowing: Bambi’s approval. This was very unusual.

They hugged, and then Egypt grabbed her pocketbook and coat and headed out of the VIP area to the lobby to meet up with Smooth.

J
udging from Smooth’s conversation and his persona, Egypt was slightly impressed, though not surprised, when Smooth hit the alarm on a brand-new, shiny, candy apple red Mercedes Benz coupe that looked like it was fresh off the showroom floor.

She knew if she got in his car, there was no turning back. She
had to be able to deal with any repercussions that came with getting into this car—specifically giving it up, the kitty cat, that is, and having a one-night stand. She knew exactly what came with leaving the club at 2 a.m. with a man she just met or any man for that matter: giving up the coochie. She dissected the whole situation as she walked to the car on his arm.

I can’t believe I am about to go and have a one-night stand with this ma’fucka I don’t even know. What do he think about me? Will he even call me after this is over? Damn, is he gonna tell all his boys that he fucked me on the first night? Well, I am twenty-one years now, a fucking grown-ass woman, and whether he calls me or not I’m cool with it. This is something that I want to do.

He went around to the passenger’s side of the car, opened up the door, and being the perfect gentleman, made sure her coat was inside the car before closing the door for her. After he shut the door, he hurried around to the driver’s side of the car and got in. Once he was out of the club’s parking lot, he asked, “What do you want to listen to? Grab the CD case out of the back and see what I got.”

With butterflies in her stomach, Egypt sat nervous as a virgin on her first date. Though she wasn’t a virgin, she was brand-new to this whole one-night-stand ordeal. This was something she had never done before.

After selecting
Ghetto D
by Master P, Egypt looked at Smooth, admiring his sexy appeal. Inside the club, he’d seemed a bit conceited, but once she’d actually talked to him, he was cool. Although he was tall and slinky, it was apparent that he had a membership at someone’s gym. His body seemed hard and fine. His almond complexion went well with his dark brown short hair, embedded with waves. He had thick eyebrows that met in the middle and could have used a good waxing, but it only enhanced his sexiness. His cream suit with the
cream-and-brown gators put the icing on the cake. Not one woman—black or white, young, old, or middle-aged—could deny that he was fine.

Egypt became turned on as she watched Smooth drive. She really wanted to skip breakfast and head straight to his house or the hotel, motel, or wherever he had plans on taking her after breakfast. She knew breakfast was just the way to ease into the sexual encounter.

They went to an all-night seventies-like restaurant in the fan district on the campus of VCU and continued talking long after they had eaten and the bill had come.

“So, how does it feel to be twenty-one?” he asked.

“It feels the same, but I am glad that I am legal now.”

“Do you have a man?”

“Nope, do you have a girl?”

“Yes.” He grabbed her hand. “You my girl.”

She smiled. The night was going better than she had expected.

When the waitress came over and informed them that she would be getting off soon, they knew that was their cue to leave. He reached into his pocket and gave the waitress a tip and looked at Egypt.

“Look, let’s go to Byrd Park and talk.”

“That’s cool with me,” she said.

Maybe he really is a gentleman. Maybe after all, I won’t have to have a one-night stand with him. Shoot, who knows? He just could be “my man.”

He cruised through Byrd Park and finally parked in a secluded area away from everything, but he left the car running with the heat on.

“Take your coat off, and put it in the backseat. I got the heat
on, and if that’s not enough you can always turn on the heat for your seat.”

She did as she was told. He pulled the sleeve off so she could ease her beaver-fur coat off. Then she threw it in the backseat.

He looked into her eyes, leaned over, and gave her a long, passionate kiss. Another kiss followed—even longer and more erotic. It made her whole body tingle. He struggled to unbutton her pants, then put his right hand inside her underwear and began to fondle her while inching her pants down with the other. Then he grabbed her hand and placed it on his rock-hard manhood and looked into her eyes. He pulled her big breasts out of her halter top and began to suck on them as she stroked him. Before she knew it, she was completely out of her halter, and he whispered in her ear, “Help me take your pants off.” He stopped for a few seconds as she slid her legs out of her painted-on leather pants. He continued to play with her clit, and within a matter of minutes he was caressing her and rubbing her in all the right ways. He reached on the side of her seat to put the seat back so she could be more comfortable.

I cannot believe I am about to fuck this nigga in his car. Now, is that some straight skeezer-type shit or what? Shoot, I don’t care, because whatever that nigga is doing, that shit feel so good!

She opened her legs wider as he unbuckled his pants. She was working him with a killer hand job, wanting him to get off. She reached in the backseat and grabbed some lotion out of her pocketbook. Once she poured it on her hands, she stroked the head, and when she did, she could see by his expression that he was thoroughly enjoying himself. He looked into her eyes as he came all over the leather seats. He could see how blazing hot she was and that she wanted him inside of her right that very second. At that instant, as turned on as she was, she didn’t care
if it was inside of a car, on the backseat of the car, under or on top of the car. She wanted him right then and there.

With such an intense tingling feeling throughout her whole body, she couldn’t resist. Waiting another minute was not an option. “Come on and put it in,” she said breathlessly.

As he was trying to catch his breath from his own orgasm, he looked at her with a devilish grin on his face, and out of nowhere he pulled out a big-ass chrome .357.

“Get the fuck out of the car, you trifling bitch!” he shouted as he pushed open the passenger’s side door. She had no choice while looking down the barrel of a .357 but to obey. She tripped, falling to the ground on her way out of the car. Without hesitation he put the car in gear and pulled off, screaming out the window at her, “You dumb bitch! Didn’t yo momma ever teach you, don’t get in the car with fucking strangers?”

As Egypt lay on the ground, she cried hysterically, whimpering, humiliated, and cold with nothing on but her skimpy lace thong that Smooth had put a hole in while he was fingering her. What was she to do? There weren’t any phones anywhere in sight, and her cell, money, ID, clothes, shoes and, most importantly her coat were all in Smooth’s car.

A
day passed, and Bambi had not heard a peep from Egypt, which was very unusual. They usually talked every day—three, four, sometimes five times a day. Bambi had left her a few voice mails but assumed that Egypt was mad because she didn’t go have breakfast with her and Smooth. Bambi was getting worried, and if she didn’t hear from Egypt today Bambi was going to call her stepdad, Jeff. He was the only family besides Bambi
that Egypt had. Her mother had died from cancer when Egypt was sixteen, leaving Jeff and Egypt to take care of each other.

But Jeff called her first, and Bambi didn’t even let him finish before she hung up. She rushed to the hospital crying, blaming and convicting herself the whole time.

If I was in my right state of mind, I would have
never,
ever in a million years allowed her to go with no stranger. Instead I was all caught up in my damn drama, having a pity party for myself. This is all my fault! What did he do to my friend? What if something happens to her? What if she dies? How would I be able to look at myself in the mirror?

As soon as she saw her friend laid up in a bed with barely a pulse, Bambi started to cry again. Jeff explained to her that a park ranger had found her the day after her birthday. For nearly ten hours she’d lain in the park almost naked. Her skin was blue and purple. Egypt was suffering from frostbite and severe hypothermia. He explained to her, “She was a Jane Doe until someone who worked in dietary recognized her and called me.”

Although Egypt was doped up over the next three days, Bambi sat at her best friend’s bedside around the clock. As soon as Egypt came around, the first thing Bambi said to her was, “I’m soooo sorry. I know it’s all my fault, and if it’s the last thing I do, I promise on everything I love, I swear I am going to get this nigga back. I swear to God. God can take the breath out of my body if I am lying. He done fucked with the wrong bitch this time. The only way I won’t is if the sun don’t shine and the creek don’t rise. I’m going to get this clown back. ”

Egypt gripped Bambi’s hand tight and just cried.

Once Egypt was released from the hospital, Bambi waited on her hand and foot. That was the essence of their friendship. When one was down, the other never kicked her but instead
lifted her up, unconditionally. They had each other’s back—no backbiting, no backstabbing, no two-facing, no larceny-hearted BS, none of that. They had a friendship that came only once in a lifetime.

“Come on, you have to put something on your stomach,” Bambi said as she tried to feed her friend some soup.

Egypt didn’t want to eat or talk. Egypt blamed herself for the whole incident. She felt like it was a warning from God because it could have been much worse. She could have been raped, beat up, had a train run on her by five or six dudes, or even killed. So this was her warning from God. Not an hour of the day went by that Egypt didn’t wonder or ask God why this had happened to her and what He was trying to tell her.

“I never went on a one-night stand before or slept around with a whole bunch of niggas. I ain’t never been on that kind of trip. I only been with like three dudes in my life, so why would this cruel shit happen to me?” Egypt asked her friend.

“Look, E, it wasn’t you! Trust me when I tell you, it wasn’t. It’s that crazy-ass nigga Smooth. Blame him, not you or God. That whacked-out nigga is the one with issues. Maybe he had a flashback. Has that dude ever been to jail before?”

Although Egypt felt the question was irrelevant, she still answered her friend, “Yes, he did mention that he had went when he was a juvenile.”

“Well, that explains it all right there. For him to act like that he probably got juked up the ass or something when he was in the slammer, and now when he’s got the upper hand, he feels like he can just be on some Psycho Sam–type shit.”

Egypt didn’t say a word; she only listened to her friend as she continued. “And sure if my name is what it is, oh, his ass is going to get it. I don’t care. It could take me forty years. Trust me, I am going to get his ass.”

“What you going to do, fight him?” Egypt said, trying to crack a joke.

“Nope, it ain’t no need,” Bambi said confidently. “Oh, you can say or think what you want, but baby, this here ain’t no joke. I promise you this one is on me.”

Egypt heard every word her friend said and knew she meant well, but what were the odds that Bambi would run into Smooth and that Smooth would even talk to Bambi? He knew that Bambi was her best friend, and how many Bambis were there running around Richmond? None besides her. But Egypt never took into consideration that this was Richmond and that with Bambi’s knowledge of the streets, the odds were more in Bambi’s favor than Egypt could ever have imagined.