by Donald Welch
“Yeah, it was a couple of weeks ago. I told Nettie to tell you,” Pia lied.
“I’m sorry, she must have forgotten. Everybody is so busy over there.” Storm knew that Nettie did not like Pia. Truth be told, Storm wasn’t that crazy about her either.
Storm and Pia were known for their battles. Both were beautiful sistas with bangin’ bodies and attitudes to match. Perhaps that’s why they had often clashed. Storm felt Pia always had to try and one-up her on everything. Whether it was money, men, homes, or cars, she knew Pia would try and compete. And she couldn’t be trusted. She remembered Lenora telling her that.
“If that’s the way you feel about her, why do you have her hanging around you all the time?” Storm remembered asking Lenora.
“Ever heard the saying, ‘Keep your friends close but your enemies closer’? Well, that’s what I’m talking about,” Lenora had said. The thought of Lenora brought a frown to Storm’s face. Still, Storm had to admit, looking at Pia, it was good seeing one of the old gang.
“I see you still holding it down,” Storm told her. “You look good.”
“Thanks, it’s a struggle every day, you know that, but I’m still in the game,” Pia giggled.
After an uneasy moment of silence, Storm told her that she had to leave, she wanted to grab a bite to eat before heading over to the club. Perhaps they would run into each other again. Pia told her that she pretty much had the afternoon and evening free—if she didn’t mind, she’d join her. It would give them a little time to catch up. Storm’s uneasiness about this offer was apparent from the expression on her face, which did not go unnoticed by Pia.
“Okay,” Storm reluctantly said. “I’m thinking about Rouge,” she said, pointing to the quaint five-star restaurant next door to her old residence at the Rittenhouse Claridge. Once they were seated, the maître d’ offered to take Storm’s bags and put them away for her, to free up room at the table. She agreed and thanked him. Storm had planned for this to be a quick dinner, and then she’d leave. There was only so much of Pia she could take in one sitting.
But forty-five minutes later, there they were, still cackling about any-and everything. The wine started to loosen them both up. Storm asked, “So, girl, are you dating anyone special?”
“Not really. I mean, got me a regular and all, but nothing serious,” she laughed, taking another sip. If she only knew, Pia thought to herself. “What about you? Seeing anyone special?” She held her glass up to her lips and sipped.
“Me and DuBoy still together, girl,” she told her.
“For real? Get out of here. I thought maybe since you were—”
Storm cut her off. “Locked up? Yeah, well, you would have thought it, but, yeah, we sorta picked up right where we left off three years ago. Now, I ain’t no dumb bitch, I know he has probably messed with a few chickenheads, because that shit was going to happen.” The pinot grigio was doing a number on her now, for sure.
Being indirectly referred to as a chickenhead didn’t sit well with Pia. She wanted so bad to tell Storm that DuBoy was in fact with her, but she knew he would kick her ass. Besides, he had promised that everything would be straight in due time. Pia would get her opportunity eventually to see the look on Storm’s face when she found out that DuBoy was her man. She listened as Storm went on and on about him, how good he was in bed.
Ha! You don’t know the half of it, girlfriend, Pia thought to herself. She couldn’t imagine why Storm was sharing all this with her anyway. It must be the wine. She decided to put a stop to Storm’s bragging. Nothing has changed. She’s still a bitch! Pia thought.
“So, girl, tell me what the hell did you do all that time you was locked up? You know, doing without?” she asked Storm. “I mean, didn’t none of them women get to you, did they?”
“Hell no!” Storm lied. “I let it be known from day one, mother was strictly dickly.” They both laughed. “And that strap-on shit don’t do nothing for me!” she protested.
They proceeded into a lively discussion that would normally have been overheard by others in the restaurant, but luckily the combination of music and the chatter from the other tables was masking their conversation.
Storm confided, “I don’t care how real-like they are, they don’t do the trick!”
Pia laughed but agreed.
The whole thing reminded Storm of a story that she wanted to share with Pia, but she could hardly get it out because she was laughing so much.
“Girl, what? What is it?”
She told Pia about a guy she’d dated named Purvis. “A coffee-brown-complexioned brotha who was a dead ringer for Taye Diggs. One night we were lying in bed, and he said to me that he’d like to try something a little new.”
Pia was already laughing but not enough to be distracted; she was hanging on to every word Storm said.
“That was cool with me, ’cause I’m always up for some new freaky skit,” Storm said, laughing herself. “I figured maybe he was gonna ring my bell a different way, you feel me? In the heat of passion, nigga pulled out what musta been a twelve-inch dildo and wanted me to mount him! I was speechless.”
“No he didn’t, girl!” Pia shouted.
“Yeah he did. Talking about, ‘I ain’t gay or anything like that…. I just want to keep our lovemaking exciting.’
“Okay, so once I got myself together, I thought about whooping his ass, but then thought, what the hell. So I strapped the shit on!” Storm leaned in to tell Pia.
Pia’s mouth was wide open. She couldn’t believe the story, but she had to admit, she was loving it.
“I had no idea how he was gonna take all of this. Girl, that shit went in so easy, you woulda thought his ass had been sprayed with Pam. I knew right then that this wasn’t the first time he had done some shit like this. I wore his ass out! Literally and figuratively.” She gave Pia a high five and went on, “Girl, you would have thought I was ridin’ a mechanical bull! And the power I felt, whew, let me tell you.” Pia was practically on the floor now, holding her stomach and begging Storm to stop.
“But mother held on,” Storm told her. “Get it, ma’! Get that shit! Purvis started screaming like a bitch in heat. I just could not believe that this six-foot-five, two-hundred-and-thirty-pound man was actually enjoying this shit. For a split second, I found myself getting jealous. Shit, he was having more fun than me!” Storm shouted.
Pia was hysterical at this point, but she found out that Storm was not through yet.
“But wait, then out of nowhere he started screaming at the top of his lungs, ‘Mother Popcorn, ride it! Mother Popcorn! Pop it! Pop it!’ “
Pia spat out her drink and quickly apologized, grabbing her cloth napkin and wiping herself off.
“I didn’t know whether to laugh or start crying, girl. This confused queen was screamin’ like he had just won a million dollars on Deal or No Deal. I thought any minute Howie Mandel and one of those skinny bitches was gonna come in our bedroom and open a suitcase.” Storm was on a roll now. “When it was over, we were so wet, it looked like we had been swimming. The sheets were so soaked I thought he peed on them. And here this brotha was, laid out on his back, breathing all hard like he just ran a marathon. So I stumble into the bathroom, you know, trying to get my shit together, ’cause this nigga done knocked my ass off balance. When I look in the mirror, though, how pissed was I? I was like, ‘Aw, hell naw!’ That bastard made me sweat my one-hundred-and-twenty-five-dollar perm out!”
“Girl, don’t you hate when that shit happens?” Pia high-fived Storm. Storm’s increasingly inebriated state caused her to miss Pia’s hand.
“So, pissed as all hell, I go back to the bedroom and find the dude in bed eating popcorn! Now I’ve heard of people wanting a cigarette or getting the munchies, but he actually got up and popped popcorn! I don’t know what the connection was with sex and popcorn, but I refuse to eat popcorn to this day. As a matter of fact, whenever I go to the movies, I close my eyes while passing the concession stand.”
Finally
managing to get themselves together, Pia and Storm decided that they’d end the night on this happy note. Actually, Storm couldn’t believe how much fun she’d had with Pia. She invited Pia to come by the club if she felt like it tonight.
“I will,” Pia said, before hugging Storm and saying her final goodbyes. They headed in opposite directions leaving the restaurant. Walking down Walnut Street, Pia texted DuBoy asking if he could pick her up. He told her he couldn’t, that he was still with Torch and Cleet, so she took a cab home. During the ride, Pia thought heavily about Storm. I must confess, that was enjoyable. Could I actually be starting to like Storm Morrison? A smile crept across her face until she remembered what Storm had revealed to her about still being with DuBoy. A saying that her mom used came to mind: “A smile ain’t nothing but a frown upside down.”
< TWENTY-ONE >
Where Do Broken Hearts GO?
Skylar was thrilled that Sidney was joining her for June’s celebration at Deana’s. She knew that Nettie was going to be surprised, too. Riding with him in the BMW, she grabbed his free hand and just held on.
“You okay, baby?” Sidney asked, quickly glancing at her while still trying to keep his eyes on the road.
“I’m fine. Just so happy that you are with me tonight,” she said, and squeezed his hand tenderly.
“Same here, baby. Anytime I’m with you it’s a treat, and you know it.” He kissed her hand. “Listen, I know the office has kept me away from home and away from the club a lot more than usual, but the workload will ease up soon and I promise I’ll make up for it, okay?” He looked at her again with that smile. Skylar couldn’t help but feel comforted by his words.
“You know I understand, baby. Your business is growing so fast. I know this is your dream. You deserve success, and I’m so proud of you.” Skylar knew all the hard work that Sidney had put into his business since striking out on his own several months ago. She also knew that, even with that, he had been there one hundred percent in support of what she was attempting to do at Legends. However, something else was on her mind, and she wanted to talk with him about it.
“Baby, you know I told you what Storm wanted to do with her share of Legends?” Skylar asked him.
“Yeah, but we’re not going to let that happen. If we have to, we’ll buy her out,” Sidney said. “What did your attorney say?”
“She said that, because I didn’t officially buy the property from Dad, no matter what business was operated on the land, both Storm and I are the equal owners. I wanted to buy it from Dutch but he said he wasn’t going to sell anything that he owned to his own daughter. That I could just do what I wanted to do with it since he was retiring. Besides, when he passed it would be mine anyway, so why would he sell it to me? I never thought I would have problems with Storm about it. She wanted nothing to do with the family business. ‘That isn’t my thing,’ as she would say.”
“So what does she suggest?” Sidney asked.
“Who, Storm?”
“No, your lawyer.”
“Either I buy her out, or like Storm said, we sell the place,” Skylar said, and frowned.
“Selling isn’t an option, baby. Legends is you. So what’s the damage?”
“The property has been assessed at four hundred thousand, which means I have to give her half of that.”
“Damn! Hey, well, look, between the two of us if that is what we gotta do, we will. I mean we’re not Will and Jada Smith, but we can handle our business. You know I got you, babe.”
“Okay, baby, thank you for that. But seriously—I wouldn’t dare want you to put any of your own money up.”
“Baby, we’re getting married next year. Anything I have, you have,” Sidney said.
“I know, and I’d feel the same way if the situation was reversed. But I gotta do this on my own. I already told the attorney to draw up all the papers. She’s going to meet Storm and me next week in the office. It’ll wipe me out financially for a while, but I want to get it over with,” Skylar sighed. “It is literally all of my savings.”
“Have you told Storm yet?” Sidney asked.
“I planned on it tonight, when we get to the club. I’m just tired of all the fighting. She had the nerve to tell me that she spoke with a lawyer about the whole thing and, although she didn’t want to go that route, she’d sue me. Can you believe that?” Skylar said, raising her voice.
“Don’t get yourself all worked up, baby. Things happen for a reason. Who knows, maybe when all of this is over you and your sister can begin to rebuild your relationship,” Sidney said, trying to comfort Skylar. “Storm is operating with a broken heart. She’s gonna need you one day, baby. I believe that. You just be there for her. Let her make all the mistakes she needs to. If that means using her part of the money to fund some ridiculous scheme of DuBoy’s, that’s her right. I know you feel that your father worked really hard to even own property, and that what Storm is doing is a waste, but she’s got to see that for herself. You’ll be free from all of it.”
Skylar didn’t respond to what Sidney said, but she knew that everything he was saying was true. She turned the radio to WDAS-FM. The Quiet Storm format was on, and Whitney’s Houston’s “Where Do Broken Hearts Go” played softly. “Where do broken hearts go? Can they find their way home?…”
Sing, Whitney! Skylar thought.
< TWENTY-TWO >
All About the Benjamins
Torch had been waiting for DuBoy for the past two hours. He was excited about moving forward with his plans for TorchLight, his proposed dance club down at Penn’s Landing. The state-of-the-art night spot was to be housed in an abandoned ship that at one time was a restaurant called Dock’s Seaside Port.
Lounging back in a soft brown leather chair, he was smoking a cigar and watching ESPN. Sitting at his feet was Gidget, who was giving him a pedicure and foot massage. Every so often he glanced down at her. She was unaware that he was watching her.
“I’ve been thinking about putting you on the stroll for a while,” he said, then waited for a reaction.
It threw her off for a second. She briefly stopped drying his left foot, but then, saying nothing, she moved on to his right.
“I know I told you when we hooked up that I had enough fresh bait on the street, but there’s a sports convention coming in next week and I may need you to do some housework over at the Doubletree on Broad Street.”
Gidget knew that housework was Torch’s term for his girls who didn’t usually walk the street but were placed in hotels when conventions came through Philly. The convention clients were more discreet and preferred to do business in their hotel rooms. They usually wanted women who didn’t look like typical working girls, but would be able to blend in to the environment. Torch preferred these arrangements because they were more lucrative. However, there were only a few conventions that hit Philly during the summer, and fewer still where the majority of the attendees were men.
When Torch and Gidget got together, he bought her clothes, took her to the casinos in A.C., wined and dined her in fine restaurants, and moved her in with him. Sure, she had done a few select dates for him since they’d met, but other than that she was free from being one of his stable of girls. She thought he felt she was special. Torch promised her that she would be the headline dancer at TorchLight. It would make that “little shit” she did while at Legends look like slum work. He also told her that she was his bitch. And for a while, all of that was true. No other girls were allowed to stay at the house or drive any of his cars but Gidget.
What she failed to realize was that she was being groomed for Torch’s true intention.
“How many days are we talking next week?” Gidget asked.
“Most likely Wednesday night thru Sunday. I’ll get you a room in the hotel for the week, get you all set up, and have all your supplies in place for each assignment,” Torch said between puffs on a knock-off Cuban cigar that stunk up the entire room.
“Why can’t you send a car to pick me up every night so I c
an come home to you?”
“Because I need you on call twenty-four. Whenever dem muthafuckas get an urge, I need you to be there, young, willing, and able. What I don’t want is for a john who got that right now urge to be unable to get to you, and he hits the street for one of dem forty-dollar hos.”
“I thought Shirley houseworked. You can’t send her?” Gidget asked.
“Bitch, I’ll send who I fuckin’ want to send!” Torch screamed, kicking her in the mouth with his wet foot and causing her to fall backward. She was shocked—Torch had never hit her before.
“Now, like I said, I’ma set you up next week, aight?” He rose from the chair, staring at her. “And yeah, Shirley gonna be working, too. The redneck cracker boys gonna wanna buck with her, but dem country-ass, suga-coated coons be feelin’ you white bitches. You the muthafuckin’ American dream for dem sports niggas. I need to think about getting Julie up in that bitch, too, next week,” Torch thought out loud.
Julie was a beautiful Asian chick that Torch had found down in Chinatown working in her uncle’s Chinese restaurant, Peking Wok. He could tell by her face the first time he saw her that she wanted out. During their conversation he found out that her New York grandmother had sent her to Philly to live with her uncle and pay her way through school. At first, Torch made a point of frequenting the restaurant at least three or four times a week, so Julie would warm up to him. He made sure she was his server and always gave her a fifty-or hundred-dollar tip. He also gave her his phone number and told her to call him anytime she needed anything.
It wasn’t long before he was picking her up from classes at Temple and she was staying over at his house, telling her uncle she was studying at a friend’s dorm. Shortly afterward, a mysterious fire claimed Peking Wok, and Julie’s uncle told her he had to send her back to New York. She called Torch.
“Ouch! Damn, girl. What’s wrong with you?” Torch screamed as he jerked back his foot. Gidget had cut the nail too close on one of his toes.