Heartless

by Al-Saadiq Banks

  Toy scurries through her and Wendy’s apartment with her phone glued to her ear. She looks like a sexy librarian today, dressed in a pinstriped suit. She had the skirt taken in super short to keep her sex appeal. With her hair in a bun and tiny square framed glasses.

  “Okay, we are on our way. I truly apologize for any inconvenience,” she says into the phone.

  She hangs up the phone. “Selena, vamos, mami?”

  Toy peeks into the living room where all the Mexican women are lounging around. Three of the women are dressed in dingy T-shirts, no frills jeans, and run-over, no name sneakers. In their casual gear, they look like financially challenged women from their poor country, so unlike the drop dead gorgeous women that were bought at Esto’s place of business.

  Selena, on the other hand, is dressed to the max, looking even more beautiful than she did that night. Storm, Toy, and Wendy all donated some of their old clothes to the women. All they had was lingerie and sexy underwear since that is all they needed for business. Now that they are going out on calls, their presentation is important.

  For now the women live right here with Toy and Wendy, sleeping on the couches. The crowdedness of the apartment is nothing new to them. In prior situations, there had been up to twenty of them in a one-bedroom apartment. For Toy and Wendy, six women in a two bedroom, one bathroom apartment is hell. The only real benefit in having them here is how tidy they keep the place. Having them here is like having live-in maids, and they use them as such.

  Toy and Selena are on their way to meet a client at the airport. The wealthy business tycoon has flown in from Dubai for business. Toy is doing well with her new job and loves it. Just as they predicted, she’s great at it. She gets to dine, shop, and be entertained by these wealthy men and not drop her panties for them once. Shamefully they were quite a few of them that she actually wanted to drop her panties for, but she didn’t. When it came time for that, she called one of the girls in.

  As Toy and Selena are making their way through the living room to the front door, Wendy appears. Her attitude is evident. She stops short, blocking them. Her body language speaks volumes. “So you really taking her and not me?”

  “Wendy, we already talked about this.”

  “Bitch can’t even speak English,” Wendy blurts out with disrespect. Not once does she look in the woman’s direction.

  “She doesn’t need to talk. She can give him what he wants without saying a word. She could be a deaf mute. You know how this game goes.”

  “I thought I knew how it goes,” Wendy replies. “I thought we looked out for each other.”

  “Wen, the man told me his type. It’s my job to get him what he wants.”

  Wendy turns her back and steps away from them. “Don’t forget we started this shit together.”

  Wendy has been tripping since the first day the girls arrived. The new franchise seems to be working for everybody but her. She feels that she helped build this thing and is the only one not reaping the benefits of her labor. She feels left out.

  Toy is getting paid from both ends — the casino and a cut of the girls’ money. Storm is making a hefty score from the girls. The girls are making more money than they’ve ever made. Meanwhile she’s not making a dime.

  The casino is off limits for her now that Storm and Toy have the inside connect. They don’t want to blow this thing by having Wendy freelancing. She hates how they act like they are a part of the casino and have the casino’s best interest at heart. It wouldn’t be so bad if she was getting sent on these dates with the men coming from out of town, but she has yet to get one of those jobs.

  * * *

  Fifteen minutes pass and Toy sits at the ramp in her brand spanking new snow white Audi A7. The Audi is the company car, just another one of the many perks. Life couldn’t be going any better for her than it is right now. Just a few months ago, she didn’t have a pot to piss in.

  At times she thinks back and feels like a fool for selling herself short for so long. She wasted so many years with fronting-ass drug dealers who used their money to entice her, but rarely giving her a dime. Every time she thinks about it, she thanks Storm for getting her started. Without her she would still be in the hood chasing fake drug dealers who are chasing fake drug dealer dreams.

  Toy dials Storm, and she picks right up. “Yeah, we here waiting on him now.”

  “Cool,” Storm says through the intercom.

  “Yo,” she says changing her tone. “Heavy Bottom is bugging! She met us at the door talking about, you really ain’t taking me. Even called Selena a bitch and said she can’t even speak English. She said we started this together. I have to send her on the next one. She will be okay.”

  “She better be,” Storm replies coldly. “I hope she don’t think she gone fuck up my business. If she do, she got another thing coming.”

  “Let me hit you back. The trick, I mean, my client just arrived.”

  The well-dressed man standing on the curb throws her off. She was expecting a sheikh in a white throbe and sandals. Instead he’s dressed in a fine business suit. She honks the horn to get his attention. The suspense of wondering how much money she will drain him of, overtakes her. Time to get to the money!

  64

  Louisville, Kentucky

  Weeks Later

  May 5, 2012

  Mr. Antonelli and Attorney Tony Austin lounge around in the Horsemen’s Suite, which is exclusively for horse owners. The owners all have their own suite where they can watch the races from. Today is the biggest day of the year for horse racing. Nervousness and anxiety run through both of their bodies. To have their horse in the Kentucky Derby is a great accomplishment for them.

  Two years ago, Tony had a client who was strapped for cash, and in an attempt to get back on his feet, he was willing to sell all his possessions. When he offered Tony his horse for sale, Tony immediately thought of Mr. Antonelli. He knew how much Mr. Antonelli enjoyed horse racing. Mr. Antonelli is the one who introduced him to that world. The two of them would go to races just to bet big money.

  Tony, being the hustler that he is, saw the opportunity to make some good money. They each put in two hundred and fifty-thousand and bought the horse. The three-year-old, one thousand, one hundred pound Arabian Thoroughbred has already earned them $1.7 million dollars in the two-year period that they’ve had her. The hundreds of thousands they’ve spent on maintenance and travel expenses still has them up a quarter million apiece, which makes it a great investment, just as Tony predicted.

  Tony towers over the four foot eleven inch, ninety-pound Mexican jockey. The Lucchese Cowboy boots that Tony sports gives him another couple inches in height. The Caiman Crocodile boot is perfect for the occasion. His dark blue stone-washed jeans drape over one boot while the other pants leg is strategically cuffed just enough to show off the red leather upper with the handcrafted design. The shreds on the bottom of the jeans and the few distressed holes are just enough to add the fashionable sense to the outfit.

  The sagging of his jeans, his fitted white V-neck T-shirt and his New York Yankees hat propped on his head to the back gives him a thugged-out edge that separates him from the rest of the horse owners. Around all the old money present, the elite may see Tony and believe that he doesn’t belong here. That is until they catch a glimpse of the crocodile band Patek Phillipe Minute Repeater Tourbillion Perpetual that he wears on his wrist, and their minds change immediately. Although he’s bought the watch pre-owned at four hundred grand, any timepiece connoisseur at the event knows this watch is worth every dime of nine hundred grand. With close to a million dollars on his wrist, he’s really the biggest horse at the Derby.

  The jockey listens attentively as Tony drills her. “Listen, we here,” he says as the lit seven inch San Cristobal cigar dangles from the corner of his mouth. “We didn’t come this far to lose. I have total faith in you,” he says in an attempt to build her confiden
ce. “We got three million cash riding on this one.”

  The jockey understands all that is on the line. The three-million-dollar purse really means nothing to her financially, being that she’s only paid forty thousand a year, win, lose or draw. For them, it’s business and about the money. For her, it’s about status. If she can pull this off, she goes down in history.

  “You like money, right?” She nods her head with a smile. “I thought so. Now listen… if you pull this off, we got ten percent for you. That’s three hundred grand.” The jockey smiles from ear to ear. “You ever seen three hundred grand before?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, win tonight, and you will go home with three hundred grand of your own money.”

  * * *

  Storm steps through the aisle in the normal seating area. Dressed in simple jeans and a designer T-shirt, Storm would look peculiar at home due to the big and floppy church hat that she has on her head. The black hat with the huge flower on the side is one of the simpler hats in all of the Derby. It’s a tradition for the women in attendance to wear the most standout hats they can find. Some of the hats worn are eccentric and others are elegant. The hats almost all come with some combination of feathers, flowers, and ribbon, and the finished product is believed to bring good luck to gamblers at the races.

  Mr. Antonelli has brought her along for the experience. Knowing how much money is involved in this race, she had to get a piece of the action. Although she’s here with him her agenda is totally different. She’s had her whole team flown here for the event.

  Toy had work to do back at the casino, but she couldn’t blow this opportunity. She knows the money will be endless here and wouldn’t miss a chance to get her some of it. Even though she has her new job, she still loves the game. She doesn’t have to sell herself anymore, but like Storm, she loves the rush and that is what keeps her in the game every chance she gets.

  Storm finally gets to her seat where her team is already seated. It’s an honor for them all to be at the actual race, witnessing it in real life, unlike the people they know from the ‘chitterling circuit’ as she calls it. The people of the chitterling circuit are the people from the hood who travel all the way to the derby, or any other big event and not actually be in attendance of the event. They only come for the festivities and bragging rights to say they were present.

  The girls, with their hats they look like respectable Southern Belles and not the sex-selling prostitutes they are. Storm sits right next to the Mexican translator girl and all the Mexicans look at her, awaiting their instructions. Over the past couple weeks, they have become more comfortable with her. The money that they’ve made with her has given them new life.

  To actually split their earnings with her is unbelievable to them. The few hundred they send back home doesn’t even put a dent in the thousands they’ve made with her. With Storm and her generosity, they almost forget about the pressure they are under back at home. They feel more like business women than actual slaves now.

  “I know this is different for y’all,” Storm says slowly to the translator. She translates word for word. “But it’s not as hard as it looks. Just follow their lead,” she says. She points to Toy and Wendy on the other side of her.

  Toy smiles invitingly at them while Wendy rolls her eyes. She’s been nothing but abrasive since the day they joined the team. Her jealousy of them is more than obvious. Instead of realizing that there is enough money in this game for all of them, she sees it as them cutting into her business.

  Beeba walks up the aisle, holding sodas and goodies. The way she’s dressed is totally out of tradition for the Derby. While all the other woman are dressed like classy Southern Belles, she looks like a woman from a Southern porn skit. Her long legs in the short cut daisy duke shorts look amazing. Her thick nipples which poke through her almost transparent T-shirt makes her look sleezy. The combination may have her appear to be a cheap slut, but it’s the way she rocks the all black straw Fedora that gives her a touch of class. The big yellow flower on the side of the hat adds just the amount of pizazz needed to clean up her image. Her long locs swing freely down her back.

  When Storm invited Beeba here with her, she didn’t hesitate to accept the offer. She was even willing to pay her own way. It was her pleasure just being invited. Of course, Storm funded it all which opened her up more. As far as right now, she has no clue of what is expected of her. Storm is confident that she won’t have to work hard to sell her on the idea.

  The fact that Beeba is here is all the reassurance she needs to know that she has total control of Beeba’s mind. She’s here, thousands of miles away from home, without her husband even knowing where she is. He foolishly believes that she’s away with her family. Never would he believe that his wife is in Kentucky with a For Sale sign on their pussy.

  Just as Beeba gets to their row, Wendy gets up from her seat and walks to the aisle. She bumps Beeba on her way by. Beeba doesn’t understand Wendy’s attitude toward her. She stands there cluelessly. Storm shakes her head angrily. She prays that Wendy gets it together before they have another problem.

  * * *

  Tony and Mr. Antonelli are on the ground watching the race before theirs. They look like the odd couple, with Tony dressed in a cap to the back with a white T-shirt. Mr. Antonelli, as usual, looks quite traditional, dressed in a seer sucker suit and white suede bucks on his feet. The straw boater hat on his head has him looking like every other old man at the Derby.

  Tony watches the horses closely. He’s placed a few grand on this race. “Damn!” he shouts as he watches the winning horse hit the finish line. “Fuck!” Tony is such a sore loser, and that’s all he seems to be doing tonight. He’s already lost close to twenty grand.

  As he’s looking down at the card, Storm comes over to them. He doesn’t even acknowledge her presence. The energy between them makes it evident that they aren’t too fond of each other. For him, it’s not personal, only business. He hates the fact that the old man is so open for her because he’s sure she means no good for him.

  The announcer calls for the owners of the next race. It’s time for them to prepare. When he hears their horse’s name over the loud speaker, a strange expression crosses his face. Their horse’s name is Storm and not until now did he realize that Mr. Antonelli named the horse after his young lover.

  “This can’t be good,” he mumbles to himself. He already saw her as a bad luck charm in life, so when he found out she was coming along, he didn’t think it was a good idea. Now that he knows the horse is named after her, he’s sure their chances of getting that three million are over. “Fuck,” he whispers as he walks away.

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later, the race is starting, and Tony is too nervous to watch it. Instead he listens from the horsemen’s suite. Mr. Antonelli stands at the window watching. Tony’s stomach does flip-flops as the shot sounds off.

  Trevor Denman, the track announcer speaks. “And they are off… in the Kentucky Derby,” he says in his English accent. “A Beautiful Night in the City gets off to a great start, while Dinner for Two tails behind. Lonely Old Geezer creeps around the bend, Storm coming up the opposite side. Lonely Old Geezer and Storm run side by side. Love At First Sight cuts in between them.”

  Tony sits up on the edge of his seat. He looks at Mr. Antonelli in awe. He can’t believe how the names of the horses in the race seem to match real life. Not sure if it’s coincidence or a sign. He listens closer. Mr. Antonelli is in quite a shock as well.

  “A One Night Stand takes the lead with Whatever You Do Don’t Cuddle close on the heels with Sucker For Love close behind. Make My Toes Curl runs on the outside. Sucker For Love takes the lead. We Don’t Love Them Hoes on the far outside.” Tony shakes his head in disbelief.

  “Storm and Devil In Disguise run side by side. Lonely Old Geezer tries to cut through the middle, running neck and neck until Sucker For Love steps int
o the race at top speed. Forty-one and fifth second. A One Night Stand and Looking for Love clash and Lonely Old Geezer trips over them. Start of a Romance takes the lead. Storm running strong with Lonely Old Geezer on her heels. Pandemonium catches up to them and Lonely Old Geezer stumbles. We Don’t Love Them Hoes breezes past Lonely Old Geezer.

  “Tender Dick is beginning to come alive, and stays in the middle of the action, causing Lonely Old Geezer to trip up. Honey I’m Home takes the lead. Catastrophe At Its Finest going strong in the red, white, and blue is racing in the inside and passes them all. Lonely Old Geezer can’t keep up and topples over. He attempts to get up but Heartbreak tramples over him.”

  Mr. Antonelli’s face is now as red as a cherry with embarrassment. He turns away from Tony with shame. Tony rubs his sweaty palms over his jeans. He knows the race is coming to an end and he can’t handle it. The money at stake has him a nervous wreck. He gets up and paces circles as he listens carefully.

  “Storm continues on ahead of them all until Karma catches up to her. Storm and Karma run side by side as they race up the final. Catastrophe steps in and passes them both. Catastrophe At Its Finest takes the lead as they continue down the final furlong. Hold up!” the announcer screams. “Looks like I’ll Have Another has come alive in the end. He passes A Devil in Disguise and A One Night Stand with ease. It’s Catastrophe At Its Finest, Storm, and I’ll Have Another running neck and neck.”

  Tony shivers with nervousness. Anxiety rips through him. His palms and underarms are sweating, but nowhere near the bullets of sweat that cover his face. He watches the race, as hard as that is to do right now.

  “I’ll Have Another shoots at a clear lead as they come down to the finish. Storm scores for second place. Tender Dick finishes in third. Finishing up in fourth is Karma. Lonely Old Geezer comes in last. The winning time is 2.02 flat. The jockey riding, I’ll Have Another is Mario Gutierrez, for the win.”

  Tony snatches his hat off his head and throws it onto the floor. “Dumb ass Lonely Old Geezer!” he shouts. He storms out of the suite.