by Glenn, Roy
“We’ll give it a shot and see how it goes,” I said quietly.
Diane gave me a hug. “You watch, Jada, I’ll be the best ho—I mean escort—you ever seen.”
The ringing phone broke up our moment. It was the doorman. “You have visitors. A Ms. Bella and Ms. Simone,” he announced.
The minute I first laid eyes on Bella and Simone, I began thinking about all the money I could make by investing in these two beauties. “Yes, Alfred. Please send them both right up,” I quickly gathered the pictures and placed them in the folder I had nearby.
When I opened the door, Bella strolled in. She was a caramel-skinned beauty with long curly hair, wicked curves, full breasts, and a smile that lit up the room. We met one morning when I was coming in from an appointment. “Excuse me,” Bella had said that morning.
I turned to verify she was talking to me. “I think you dropped this,” she said, holding up a tube of MAC lip gloss.
“Damn!” I squealed. “Thanks, honey. I lose these things like they’re free,” I said.
When she smiled I was like, whoa! “You live around here?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I wish. I was actually trying to meet a friend, but I got lost,” she said.
We grabbed some coffee at a nearby Starbucks where she poured out her life story. Bella told me told me how miserable her life was. She was on the outs with her very repressive parents and had been going from one bad job to no job at all, and was desperately in need of money.
But what I saw in her was spirit. I found her to be a quiet and easygoing young woman with an almost childlike enthusiasm for life. Bella was the kind of person who sought variety in what she did. Bella also told me she had tried to be a dancer, but didn’t go back after she slipped and fell from the stage. “I figured that was a sign that I needed to find a new way to make some extra cash.” She had giggled.
My other selection was Simone. She too had a sad tale to tell about how she desperately needed money. Simone was tall and thin. She was flat-chested, but looked like she was gliding instead of walking. Simone had a short, Halle Berry-type haircut, light eyes and smooth skin. Simone was a stunner who had raw sex appeal and determination. I met her working in one of the boutiques I had frequented with Sasha. She was frustrated after a rude customer had ripped her a new one over not being able to return a gown that had been visibly worn. When the customer stormed out of the shop, I heard her sigh. “I don’t know how much longer I can take this shit,” she had hissed.
I walked over and looked around to make sure her manager was nowhere in sight.
“You could probably make a substantial amount of money if you just used some of your other assets,” I said.
Her eyebrow crept upward, but she didn’t dismiss me right away.
“You a headhunter or something?” she wanted to know.
“I’m not. I’m what you can call an entrepreneur. You’re not afraid to make a little cash and have some fun while you’re at it, are you?”
“I don’t sell or do drugs,” she said.
“I understand.” I slipped her my business card; then slid the stack of crisp one-hundred-dollar bills toward her.
She looked at the money then up at me. “When can we get together?” she asked.
Once everybody had a drink and made themselves comfortable, I explained what we were going to do and how we were going to do it. “The most important thing that I’m going to teach you is how to conduct yourselves in a ladylike manner in every situation. Elegant and classy, ladies, that is who you are at all times.” I stood up and moved to the middle of the living room. “I’m going to teach you how to walk, how to talk”—I looked at Diane and she rolled her eyes—“and how to dress, and how to conduct yourself at any occasion. Knowing what to say and what not to say, will make your company more desirable and therefore, requested on a regular basic.
“Now, I’ve been thinking a lot about this and I realized that Sasha will be working all the CEOs, CFOs, and other suits: wealthy people that are discrete with their money. They don’t have anything to prove to anybody.”
“That’s old money,” Simone said.
“Old money is good money,” Diane added.
“True. Old money is good money, but . . .,” I said and paused to emphasize my point, “those people are used to having it and know what to do with it.”
“So what you talkin’ ’bout us doin’?” Diane asked.
I wanted to make Diane repeat that sentence in proper English, but we’d have plenty of time for that. “Our plan doesn’t involve targeting her rich crowd. We’re going to leave those clients to Sasha. She has both a knack and a nose for them.” I also knew I’d be creating bad blood by going after Sasha’s established clientele, especially if I didn’t have to. “Our target group is going to be the new rich: The ones who just stumbled into money; the ones who don’t quite know how to act now that they have it.”
“Ballers,” Diane said.
“I’m talking about music industry insiders, rappers, producers, actors, and movie and television producers and of course—ballers. Now, unfortunately, people like that don’t attend the kind of mixers and events that Sasha’s crowd go to. But they do have their own functions and that’s where we’ll target them.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Bella chimed in quickly.
I fronted them five grand each to let them know I was serious about business. It was like a signing bonus. The ladies and I had spent the next month or so getting to know each other. Bella, Simone, and Diane had spent many nights at my place during our late-night bonding sessions that lasted well into the early morning hours.
Sasha and I still met once every couple of weeks to catch up, but for the most part, I was either shopping, which the ladies all excelled at, or hanging out with one or all of the ladies. In my mind, these little outings were all training sessions.
After one of many shopping trips, I walked in the bedroom while Bella was on the phone. “Well, if that’s how you feel about me now, I guess I have no choice but to make it on my own,” I heard her say into the phone before sniffling. Before I could tell what was going on, Simone came rushing out of the bathroom with a wad of tissue.
That’s when I realized Bella had been crying. She turned and I noticed her bloodshot eyes.
“What’s wrong with her?” I whispered to Simone.
She walked over to me, leaned in then whispered, “She’s been fighting with her family for nearly an hour now; something about them not wanting her back home.”
“But I . . .” Bella managed before breaking down and sobbing again.
I looked over at Bella who was crumbling on the phone. I walked over and slowly removed the receiver from her shaking hand. I placed it back into its cradle and took her into my arms.
“My mother called me a streetwalker,” she sobbed onto my chest. “She said she never wants to see me again,” she added.
I rubbed her back. “We’re your family now, don’t worry about it,” I told her.
“Her parents are devoted Jehovah Witnesses—you know, like they go door to door and all,” Simone said.
“I just didn’t want to follow the faith,” Bella said.
I stroked her back. “Don’t worry about it. Like I said, we’re your family now.” By the time I looked up, Diane had walked into the room. I didn’t know how much she had heard, but I could tell by the look on her face that she agreed with my statement.
“If your parents don’t want you because you don’t want to go door to door, you ain’t ever gotta worry about them again,” Diane said walking over to us.
Bella finally pulled back and looked up at me.
“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed.
I looked at her, moved hair from her face then said, “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. You have nothing to be sorry about.” I looked around the room. “I know everyone here agrees, we don’t ever have to worry about feeling left out, or like we don’t belong. By the time we’re done, we’ll rule this
town.” For the first time since I walked into the room, I realized that we were at a turning point in our relationship If things went the way I planned, our little close-knit family would be unstoppable.
“Thank you, Jada,” Bella said sniffling. She turned away from my embrace. “Thank you all,” she added. We enveloped her in a group hug and laughed at ourselves for being so emotional.
7
Two months into my self-employment gig and business was very slow. As a matter of fact, business was a bit too slow. We were for the most part, living on my back. I still had my regular clients. When I had an appointment or when the client would allow it, I would send Bella or Simone. Diane was still a little too ghetto for prime time, but she was working hard. I had thought about doing some work for Sasha, until she informed me that her fee had increased to 51 percent since I was now direct competition.
“It’s just business,” she said, then sipped her Mimosa.
I couldn’t fault her, but talking with her gave me an idea. Working with Sasha, business was steady because of her clientele and connections. But now that I was on my own, maybe I needed a different approach.
“So what’s up, Jada?” Bella asked.
“Yeah, when do we get to see some real money?” Simone had asked.
“I’ve got an idea,” I said, shedding thoughts of Sasha from my mind. “ I think we need to go out and see if we can drum up some business.”
Bella had a worried look across her face, but it was Simone who fired questions at me. “Drum up business? Why? I thought you had that all under control. You mean we gotta go out and get the johns?” She sucked her teeth.
“Okay, first off, these are not johns. These are very important clients who are a bit lonely and are willing to pay for the company of an attractive lady,” I corrected.
“Whatever,” Simone snapped.
“I think what she means is, we thought things were a bit more organized and setup already,” Bella informed me. “I didn’t think we’d actually have to go out there and have to get our own clients.”
Simone jumped up. “I don’t know about this,” she said.
“I thought you guys were ready to make some paper. I guess I was mistaken.” I shrugged.
“Yeah, but I ain’t about to go on the stroll,” Simone said and smacked her lips.
“Nobody’s asking you to go on the stroll. All I’m saying is, right now my client list isn’t enough to sustain us all, and I don’t think it would hurt to do some networking at some exclusive events.”
“So how do we get ourselves invited to these exclusive events?” Simone asked.
“I know exactly where we’ll start.”
“Where?
“Sensations.”
Sensations was a nightclub frequented by our target clientele. My plan was a simple one.
Advertise.
If you have a product and you wanted to get maximum product recognition with your target group, you have to advertise. Get that product out in front of your target group. Once a week we would go to Sensations.
“Are you guys gonna trust me or what?” I needed to know. “I’m telling you, we’re doing the right thing.”
Simone was a bit reluctant, but after some convincing, quite a bit actually, she agreed. Once I had Simone, Bella fell right in line. By the time Diane arrived, it was agreed we’d go to Sensations the very next Friday night.
That night I realized that my new family had found their voice. Simone was by far the strongest personality of the three. Bella was soft as butter, and Diane was just glad to be down, so she went along with whatever everybody else was doing.
But not Simone, her favorite line was, “I don’t understand this at all,” she would say, laced with attitude. Which to me always meant that she wasn’t with what I was sayin’, and before we moved on, I needed to make it clear what we were talking about and more importantly, how it would benefit everybody. I knew that once I had Simone on my side it was over.
We spent the day shopping for that evening’s attire. Simone chose a Nicole Miller stretch, satin ruched slip dress with spaghetti straps. I couldn’t really appreciate the straight neckline, but I did like the ruching at center bust and at the front and back bodice. When she first walked out of the fitting room, I wasn’t sure I liked the dress.
“Work it, girl,” Diane encouraged.
And when Simone worked it, it was like she gave the dress a life of its own.
“I think that’s the one,” I told her.
“You like it?” she asked Bella.
“It’s nice. And obviously you know how to work it,” she said excitedly.
With Simone out of the way, we turned our attention to finding just the right outfit for Bella. I was flipping through a nearby rack of dresses when my head snapped toward a squeal coming from Diane.
“Well, I’ll be damned!”
I turned to see Bella strolling out in a bodysuit. But this wasn’t just any bodysuit; it was a sleek one-piece that hugged her curves.
She strutted and ran her hands along the length of her body.
“I feel so sexy.” She giggled. She spun, then struck a pose.
“Girl, you are too fierce in that getup,” I said.
“You think I should get it, Jada? I mean, you don’t think it’s—I don’t know”—she shrugged—“too much?”
“Too much?” I stepped a bit closer to her. “Girl, you look hot!”
“For real, with that outfit on, I just pray we’ll be able to get some play up in the club standing next to you,” Diane cosigned.
“Okay, if you guys like it, then I’ll get it,” she said before turning and rushing into the fitting room.
Once we piled into the car, Diane turned to me and said, “How come you didn’t get anything?”
“Yeah,” Bella added.
“Please, all the stuff I have in that closet; some of that shit still has tags dangling from them.”
When Snoop’s new cut came on, we all started rocking to the beat. All the while I thought about the black Just Cavalli satin bustier dress, laced with a leopard-print tie. It was just the right mixture of elegance and class; the perfect outfit for the Queen B. When I thought about it, I knew for sure that the night would belong to us.
Everyone agreed to meet at my place by seven. After I went over the plan again, we got dressed and was sipping champagne while we waited for the bewitching hour. Our game plan didn’t involve going to the club to party, we were strictly there for business. I had put in a standing reservation for a limo to pick us up every Friday night at eleven o'clock shape. We would arrive at the club and make our grand entrance at exactly midnight.
Knowing that the club would be crowded by the time we got there, I made arrangements with Sherman, the club’s manager, to have one of the circular couches close to the VIP room, reserved for us. “Money isn’t an issue,” I said when I talked to him over the phone.
“I think you and your party would be more comfortable in the VIP room,” Sherman said.
“No, Sherman, but thank you. I’m sure we’ll be just fine outside the VIP room.”
When I got off the phone, naturally, Simone questioned my logic. “Why don’t we wanna be in the VIP room?”
“Because all of our target market won’t be in VIP room. We need to position ourselves where we would get the maximum exposure. The driver will be here soon,” I said, as the clock got close to eleven. “Is everybody ready for this?”
“Shit, I been ready,” Diane said quickly. “Let’s do the damn thing. Oh, I mean, yes, Jada, I am ready to proceed to the club.” She laughed at herself, as did everybody else.
“We’re gonna take Sensations by storm, ladies. They’re not ready for this,” Bella added, standing up to do a model’s runway turn.
“The world is ours!” Simone began shouting, and Diane and Bella joined in. I was so proud of them, especially Diane; she had worked so hard and had come so far from where she was. The chant of the “world is ours” continued until the p
hone rang. “Quiet down, ladies,” I said and answered the phone. “Yes, Alfred.”
“Your driver is here.” Alfred the doorman called to say.
“We’ll be down in fifteen minutes.”
While the ladies talked amongst themselves, I hung up the phone and slipped into the bathroom and took one final look. Once I was done, I joined my family. I stood in front of Diane until everyone was quiet. “What?” she asked.
“Let’s do the damn thing.”
When our stretch Chrysler 300 limo pulled up at the club’s entrance, I noticed the stares from people standing in line. Some were blatantly staring, while others tried to act like the vehicle’s sleek appearance was no big deal. We sat parked for at least ten minutes before the driver stepped out to get our door.
He opened the door and extended his hand to me. I accepted his hand, stepped out of the limo and struck a pose. I could hear the buzz of small talk from those who were in line. The driver held out his hand for Diane and she stood next to me. By the time Bella was out of the limo and standing next to Diane, I knew we had everyone’s attention. When Simone got out and stood next to Bella, the only sound to be heard was coming from the cars passing by.
I started walking toward the entrance. As planned, Diane walked next to me while Bella and Simone followed single file behind her. “Where they think they goin’?” I heard one woman say as we passed.
“I don’t know, but they need to get their wanna-be-cute asses in the back of this line like everybody else,” the woman in line with her said. That was exactly the response I was hoping for. I wanted to set the tone from the start. I wanted everybody to know that these ladies were special.
We walked right up to the door, where security removed the velvet rope and allowed us in without any questions. I could hear the mumbles as the door closed behind us.
“Can I help you, ladies?”
“Yes, I’m sure you can. My name is Jada West. I believe we have an area reserved for us?”
“Yes, Ms. West. We’ve been expecting you, and welcome to Sensations. A bottle of Moët is waiting at your table, complements of the management,” the hostess informed us.