Tiffany and Dior: Love in Las Vegas Streets (10 page)

    When their father died, a part of her died with him. All she did was drink and smoke cigarettes all day. I guess that was enough to make Dior start selling in the streets. I hated to admit it but I resented him for that.

     “What’s good ma? You keep zoning out. What’s on your mind?” Dior smirked.

     “Nothing, it doesn’t matter,” I said, obviously upset. I wasn’t in the mood to talk about the past.

      “I gave you my number a few weeks ago. Why you didn’t call me?” Dior smiled as he pulled me closer to him.

     “I have a man, Dior. Things changed,” I stated. The real reason I didn’t call or text him because Black went through my phone. He monitored how many times I used the phone. He read all of my text messages and even checked my contacts. 

      “Tiffany, I see things changed but fuck your nigga. I don’t see no ring on your finger, ma. That means you’re single.” He kissed me on my lips.

   I stood there shocked that he kissed me right there in the club. I looked around, making sure no one saw me.

     “It ain’t even like that, Dior.” 

     “Ma, I see you still the same stubborn Tiffany; never want to express your feelings. I just came home nine months ago,” he said, waiting for me to respond.

     “I missed you. Honestly I thought you died in the fire. I wasn’t selling drugs that day when I got arrested but this not the time and the place to talk about it. You telling me you got a man but I can tell by your body language you’re not happy at home,” Dior said to me as he moved in closer.

       I didn’t know how to respond to him. Whenever anyone mentioned the fire I got choked up and he was right, I wasn’t happy at home. It had been years and secretly I wished I had died in that fire too. Every night I had nightmares. It got to the point I was scared to go to sleep. Black didn’t make it any better. Instead of holding me tight or planting kisses on my neck and making a bitch feel safe he would kick me out of our bed when I would wake up in cold sweats or screaming.

      Black wouldn’t dare give me my own room. How would that make him look? I signaled for the bottle girl to come over. Just thinking about Black and his selfish ways made me thirsty for a drink.

     I ordered me a lemonade drop. Being around Dior made me weak. It had been three years and I could tell he was still that straight up hood nigga I fell in love with. I stood there checking him out. Dior was wearing designer clothing from head to toe. His fitted Balmain blazer rested against his smooth caramel skin complexion and amazing muscular physique. He had dreamy bedroom eyes and even sexy big lips. His gold chains hung down to his navel. He rocked all white Balmain jeans and gold Giuseppe Zanotti sneakers. 

      He was so damn fine he had to be every woman’s fantasy. Dior was twenty years old and stood at five-foot-nine. He was very high maintenance and I couldn’t help but notice the diamonds sparkling on each earlobe, his pinky finger, and his wrist. 

     “So when you going to be my girl again?” Dior got straight to the point.

     “What? Dior, you just came home. I have Mason to take care of and I don’t work,” I said sternly.

     “Baby girl, no disrespect but you tripping. I been getting money since I was young. Ain’t nothing changed. That’s why I’m here. I’m supposed to meet up with some connect from Miami,” Dior stated as he gulped down the rest of his drink. 

“Dior, you know it’s not like that. I have a man and he—”

  Dior cut me off mid-sentence. “Baby girl, you should come chill with me after the club. I’m not the type to break up a happy home but we both grown. I want that old thing back and I know you still want me too.” Dior laughed.  

    I will admit I wanted that old thing back and Dior was blessed in the finances. He was like his brother; they knew how to hustle and get this cheddar and he was good in the sex department too.

   “Dior, I can’t. I’m with Black,” I confessed.

“Man, fuck Black. You my girl.” Dior smiled and I couldn’t help but smile right along with him.

     “I do miss you,” I said to Dior. One time when I was out with my girls I almost cheated with some random drug dealer but Dior and I had history. He was the flyest nigga I had ever been with. He was my first boyfriend and the love of my life.

        I was in love with him. We were like Beyoncé and Jay-Z a true power couple. I told him once I graduated high school we could move into together and have a beautiful baby girl. I know I told Paige she was a fool to give up college to play wifey to Rasheed but Dior was different. See, Paige wasn’t in love with Rasheed; she was in love with the lifestyle.

    Seeing Dior was different. I truly love him, I thought to myself as I sat down beside him. “Dior, it is really good to see you. I’m over this party. Maybe we could go somewhere and chill,” I said as I looked over at Paige who was talking to Dior and Rasheed’s sister Kia.

      Kia sat there looking perfect in her leather dress that suited her body so well, it looked as if was painted on. She wore light natural make up, making her face glow even more in the dimmed lighting. Her full lips were covered in red lipstick. As beautiful as she was at eighteen years old I admired her. She wanted to pursue her singing career and on Thursday nights she would bartend at the bar in hopes that a rapper or producer would listen to her music. When she waved I gave her a fake smile and waved back. Kia and I barely got along back in the day. Seeing her tonight I decided to play it cool and be cordial. Besides I would never forgive a female who knew how much I loved her boyfriend to turn around and introduced him to a female like Paris. I wasn't hating but it was the principal.

      “I will be back, Dior. I need to check on my girl,” I said to him as I stood up. 

     “Ayo, Tiffany for real, after you get done playing wifey to your man come see me. Maybe I can pick you up tomorrow and we can have lunch or something,” Dior said with a devilish grin on his face as he took my phone out of my hand, storing his number. After he dialed his number to make sure the call went through he handed it back and then kissed me on my cheek.

     “Now I got your number so there’s no excuse for you not to come see me,” I said to him.

    I made sure my ass jiggled while I switched my hips, walking over to my VIP section. I could feel his eyes on me and I enjoyed every bit of it.

“About damn time,” Paige stated in annoyance as I sat down next to her, pouring myself a drink.

“You stopped and talked to everybody in the club! Fawn is over there waiting and Black just walked in the building. If he catches you talking to a nigga he will go crazy,” Paige stated. 

“Paige, you the one who dipped off with some random dude earlier and then turned around and saw Rasheed just walked in the building,” I said.

“Rasheed is my daughter’s father. Black can kiss my ass. What’s good with you and Dior? I saw you guys talking for a minute. You keep running into him. Let me find out you want that old thing back,” she said as she looked over at him and then back at me.

    Just as I was about to say something, her cellphone rang. “It’s my mother; I have to take this call.” She picked it up quickly and then stepped away from the booth.

    “Hey, Fawn,” I said as I gave her a hug and then sat down. Fawn was beautiful in person. She sat there looking flawless with her black curly bob, dressed in all nude colors. She wore a nude blazer, fitted jeans and booties, completing her outfit with gold Chanel earrings, a Rolex watch, and a Chanel bag.   

“Nice meeting you, Tiffany. I’ve heard so much about you.” Fawn smiled.

“Likewise,” I said as I sat there in my VIP section sipping my drink ignoring her presence. She wasn’t there for me and for some reason I just didn’t mesh with her.  I stood up dancing to the beat and singing to the music that was blaring through the speakers. I had my eye on Dior but I had to keep my distance. Black was in the building and I couldn’t afford to get into some shit tonight.

      “Thanks for seeing me, Demetrius,” Fawn said as he took a seat across from us.

“My pleasure. You been one of my best female hustlers in the game. Shit, I never seen a female hustle harder than you and for that I had to hear what you had to say. But please, call me Black. Now what’s brings you to Las Vegas?” Black sat back in the booth staring into her eyes.

“You know I wouldn’t come all the way out here under normal circumstances but I need your help.”

“Fawn, tell me what you need.”

“I know who snitched on Malachi. Biscuit wasn’t the one who snitched; he was a part of it but it was Stephon.”

“You do realize that doesn’t change anything. My nephew is facing almost twenty-five years in prison—”

  Fawn cut Black off midsentence. “Listen Black, I cannot control Malachi’s actions. He wasn’t paying attention but that’s beside the point. I need you to make someone disappear and that’s a request,” Fawn spat.

“Okay, Fawn, who is it?” Black asked as he gulped down the rest of his drink. He hated when anyone stood up to him. Black always wanted to feel like he was superior. At that moment I liked Fawn. She was hardcore and didn’t mind putting a person in their place.     

“Ishmael.”

“You know once I make him disappear, you are out of the game,” Black made his statement clear.

“That’s okay, Black. Before all this went down I had plans to leave the game. I got a come up and it’s worth millions,” Fawn stated as she looked over at Jacques Hendrix who was smiling and signaling for her to come over to his booth. Jacques was a rich boxing champ. He was sexy is hell standing there with his milk chocolate skin and muscular fame, and he had the prettiest set of white teeth I had ever seen.

“Fawn, so you’re getting out of the drug game? What’s next??” I asked nervously when I noticed Black saw me checking out another man.

“I am moving to Miami. I made a lot of money with you, Black, and I will forever be grateful to you. When I stopped doing business with Ishmael I made a million dollars. That’s how I knew his snake ass was the one who set us up. He was mad he wasn’t making any money and then hooked up with Biscuit and Stephon do the dirty work.”

“Well, Fawn, that favor comes with a high price,” Black stated.

“I will have a quarter million in six months.”

“Fawn, are you positive you can get that much money since you out of the game?”

“Black, I am Trap Queen. I always come through.” Fawn smiled.

“Excuse me, baby, I am going to the bathroom,” I said, breaking the silence. Black only allowed me to call him pet names like baby or bae when we were around people. That’s when Black was the sweetest man. He would act like he was so in love with me when we were out in public. He would playfully kiss on my neck, nibble on my ear, and touch on my body. That type of attention made women and men envy him. Black enjoyed having a sexy, young woman like me and he made sure everyone else around him knew.

    Black kissed me on my lips. “Okay, baby girl. You know daddy loves you.” He smiled confidently. For a moment he stared into my eyes, not saying a word.

    “I love you more, Black,” I said as I slid out of the booth.

     I couldn’t wait to leave Black. I hated when he was in the club with me. I couldn’t turn up how I did when I was with my girls. See, whenever I was out with Black I felt like I deserved an Oscar because that’s when I acted my best. That’s because my role was to sit there and be pretty. My job was to make Black look and feel good. I catered to his ego and in return he bought me anything I asked for and took care of Mason.

     As I was walking through the crowd of people I winked my eye at Dior as I walked past. I was entering Black’s private bathroom when Dior came inside, closing and then locking the door behind him.

    “Oh my God, Dior, you cannot be in here,” I whispered.

    “Baby girl, fuck the rules. You should ditch your father—my bad, I meant your man—and come chill with me tonight.” Dior moved in closer.

    “I don’t know Dior. We can’t do this.” I tried to play it off like I didn’t want to chill with him but I did. Most of all I wanted to fuck. It had been three years since I last saw him and I wanted Dior in the worst way.

    “Ma, fuck your man; come with me. Tell that nigga you going to another spot with Paige. Besides, from the looks of it, he sure doesn’t need your company.” Dior paused waiting for me to say something.  

    “Maybe you right. I guess we could chill but I can’t stay out too late. Black be tripping when I come in the house late,” I confessed. Dior stood there laughing at me.

    “Yo, Tiffany, is that your man or your daddy? Matter fact, don’t answer that. I will be outside waiting for you,” Dior said as he unlocked the door to the bathroom and left. I took a deep breath as I leaned against the door.

      As I headed back to the booth where Black and Fawn were now joined by Foreman and Landon, I couldn't help but notice Dior, who was sitting at the bar with the sexiest smirk on his face. I had never cheated on Black, and even though I came close to it so many times I never gave in until now.

    “Black, I am going to get something to eat from Grand Lux café with Paige and then go home,” I said to him as I sat next to him, waiting for a response.

    “Don't wait up for me. I won't be home until tomorrow,” Black stated as he looked at me and then back at Fawn, who clearly was being entertained by Black when I was in the bathroom. Usually, I would have felt offended that my man was telling me he wasn't coming home but I had Dior on my mind and I couldn’t care less about Black and what he was doing behind my back. When it came down to women, Black let it be known if he wanted something he was going to get it. He had money, power, and respect. I never argued. I just stayed in my place and that was playing wifey.