Flawless: A Street Love Tale

by Jade Jones

Keeping that bit of info to herself, Shayla hesitantly accepted the drink.

  “Those shoes on fleek, boo,” Ava said, peeping her heel game. Unlike the rest of the herd, she was openly friendly to Shayla. Kimberly, on the other hand, she could care less for.

  “Thanks,” Shayla muttered, taking a tiny sip of her beverage. The Giuseppes on her feet were two years old and a gift from Dexter. Had it not been for their value, they would’ve gone in the trash like most of the other things he’d gotten her.

  At that point, Shayla had Romeo’s undivided attention. With liquor, marijuana, and a half a pill coursing through his veins, he was definitely on one that evening.

  Eyes glassy and intentions set, Romeo leaned close to Shayla’s ear. “What’chu gettin’ into after you leave here?” he asked.

  Romeo’s warm, liquor-scented breath caused the tiny hairs on the back of Shayla’s neck to stand. Damn, why does he have to be so irresistible, she asked herself.

  “Not sure. I guess whatever my girl decides. I’m riding with her,” Shayla explained.

  “Shit, it looks like ol’ girl preoccupied with my boy,” Romeo said. “You may as well slide with me. I’ll take you wherever you gotta go in da mornin’.”

  “Um…I don’t know…,” Shayla hesitated. As usual, her guard was up, but for good enough reason.

  “What’chu mean you don’t know?” Romeo asked, somewhat offended that she was playing hard to get. In his world, bitches came as frequently as the money so he’d never had difficulty getting laid.

  This chick trippin’, he thought to himself. Hell, I got three bad ass bitches waiting to do whatever the kid asks. And this chick’s giving me the third degree like I’m some bum ass nigga.

  “I just don’t know,” Shayla said, finally turning to face him. “I barely know you.”

  “Hell, we can get to know each other. Right after we christen that new bed,” he added.

  “Excuse me?” Shayla asked in disgust. She totally wasn’t expecting Romeo’s forwardness, and it was a complete turn off. What a fucking pig.

  Before he could respond, Shayla quickly stood to her feet and walked off.

  “Where you going, Shay?” Kim called out after her.

  Shayla ignored her friend as she headed towards the exit. This is why I don’t fuck with these scenes, she thought. Every nigga in Atlanta feels like he’s entitled to talk and treat women however they want just because they’re the minority. Damn that.

  Shayla didn’t even bother looking behind her to see if Kim was following. All she wanted to do was put as much distance as she could between her and Romeo.

  Just as Shayla was walking out, one of the doormen quickly stopped her. “Aye, hold on, baby girl. You can’t go outside with that.”

  Shayla looked down and realized she was holding the shot glass Romeo had given her. Without hesitation, she downed the liquor before passing the glass to the doorman. He had no opposition as he stepped to the side, allowing her to leave.

  Once outside, Shayla ran a hand through her wand curled hair. That night was her first time hitting the club scene since her breakup with Dexter. Unfortunately, her evening didn’t end anywhere near how she imagined.

  Shayla lived a pretty contained life. Coming from an upper-middleclass family, she’d been spoiled and sheltered most of her life. Oftentimes Kimberlyn even teased her by calling her grandma, but she didn’t mind.

  All of a sudden, Shayla regretted her choice to down the liquor. Because she didn’t drink, she felt the effects almost immediately. Trying her best to keep from stumbling in her heels, she looked out for a cab but didn’t see one.

  Though she was only five minutes from Midtown, the last thing Shayla wanted to do was hike on foot in her Giuseppes. Where the hell is Kimberlyn, she wondered. A part of her was certain her best friend would come running to see what was up but apparently not.

  Obviously, that nigga has her undivided attention, Shayla concluded. It usually wasn’t like Kim to put a guy over her friends. However, Desmond wasn’t just any guy.

  A tiny sliver of discouragement crept into Shayla’s heart before she heard a familiar voice behind her.

  “Why you walk out like dat?”

  As soon as she turned around, Shayla frowned at the unwanted sight of Romeo. She half-expected to see Kimberlyn, and her hopes were instantly crushed.

  “Why do you think?” Shayla snapped. “Excuse my French but you’re a real asshole. It’s obvious you don’t know how to talk to or treat women.”

  Romeo didn’t respond immediately. Maybe she’s right.

  For the majority of his life he was used to dealing with hoes, groupies, and gold diggers. He’d never been in a seriously committed relationship before and had no real aspirations on doing so.

  Women threw themselves at Romeo on a daily basis, and because of that he spoke to and treated them however he pleased. None had ever checked him about his doggish ways; none except Shayla.

  “You may be right,” Romeo said, taking slow steps towards her. “That shit back in there…Blame it on the liquor. Not on my heart,” he told her. “If you knew me, you’d see I’m a cool ass dude. Dat ain’t me.”

  Shayla didn’t respond as she stared at him through narrowed eyes. On the low, she was impressed that he’d gone after her but she still couldn’t trust him.

  “Look, lemme make it up to you,” Romeo offered. The look on his handsome face was genuine, but she was apprehensive when it came to him. A first impression was certainly a lasting impression.

  Shayla didn’t bother replying as she looked over his shoulder towards the entrance.

  “Ya girl ain’t comin’,” Romeo said, knowing exactly who she was looking for. “I told you, she keepin’ company with my homie. And it don’t look like she leavin’ anytime soon.”

  Growing cold from the breeze, Shayla hugged herself to keep warm.

  “Look, you ain’t gotta forgive me for that bullshit I said in there. But at least lemme take you home,” he offered. “It’s too damn cold out here to be standin’ around.”

  Shayla grimaced as she weighed her options. They were definitely slim under such circumstances. “Fine,” she agreed, realizing she had no other choice.

  “Cool.”

  Putting her reservations to the side, Shayla waited for valet to pull up his whip. She literally had to keep her mouth from dropping open after a silver 2015 Porsche Spyder arrived. Seriously? This is what he’s pushing?

  The valet attendant anxiously hopped out before opening the passenger door for Shayla. Secretly, she relished the envious stares from chicks that were still waiting in line. The moment she climbed in, the pungent scent of marijuana filled her nostrils.

  Shayla had no idea she was now playing with fire...

  Focused on their own little altercation, the two of them failed to realize they were being closely watched. Parked several feet away in a black boxed Chevy were the same three goons from the bar behind tinted windows. The jack boys had been scrutinizing Romeo and Desmond all night. As soon as they noticed one leave, they hastily made their departure as well.

  “You really think dem niggas brick thuggin’ though?” Kevin, the youngest of the trio asked. At only eighteen, he’d abandoned his education for a life of crime with his older brother.

  With wild, shoulder length dreads that were always unkempt, Kevin looked a lot like Chi town rapper, Chief Keef—and was equally as rebellious.

  “Fuck you think? Look what dat nigga pushin’,” Kaniel told his younger sibling. He too had dreads, but his touched the middle of his back.

  “I may have to swipe that bitch too,” their friend Lamar added in. He was a coffee brown brother with a face full of tattoos.

  “The car or the chick?” Kaniel asked.

  “Shit, both,” Lamar cackled.

  Together they watched as Romeo and Shayla pulled off into traffic. Keeping their distance, they followed closely behind. When it was all said and done, they knew this would be their biggest lick yet.

/>   6

  By the time Romeo pulled up to Shayla’s townhome, she was slightly inebriated. Thankfully, Romeo’s buzz was long gone as he eased into her driveway. “You good, babe?” he asked, turning to face Shayla.

  Laughing girlishly, it was obvious she was somewhat tipsy. “Hardly,” she snickered.

  Climbing out, Romeo didn’t notice the light that came on upstairs. He quickly rounded the car to open Shayla’s door and helped her out. Damn, she a lightweight, he thought.

  “You straight?” Romeo asked again, placing her arm around his shoulder for support.

  “Romeo…Where ‘fore art thou, Romeo?” Shayla drunkenly sang.

  Suddenly, the neighbor’s dog began barking at her loud antics. Shayla was too loose, but Romeo wasn’t with taking advantage of chicks. That definitely wasn’t his steelo.

  Just as Romeo was making his way towards the house, the front door swung open. Standing there in a maroon silk robe was Shayla’s mother, Tina. The disapproving look on her face instantly made Romeo feel uncomfortable but he pushed through it anyway. Besides, she wouldn’t be the first mom who disliked him.

  Tina Edwards was a spitting image of her daughter minus the youthfulness—but she was still beautiful nonetheless.

  “Oh, Lord,” Tina said, shaking her head. She knew from first glance that her daughter was drunk. “Come here, girl,” she said, practically grabbing her from Romeo.

  “My bad. I didn’t know she had such a low tolerance,” he admitted.

  “Thank you for bringing her home,” Tina said smugly.

  “No pr—”

  SLAM!

  Tina rudely closed the front door in Romeo’s face without so much as a goodbye. From his jewelry to his image, he stood for nothing but trouble in her eyes. It wasn’t like Shayla to come home late drunk, and Tina blamed Romeo wholeheartedly.

  Skipping down the stone steps, Romeo swaggered to his car. I can tell I’ma have my hands full with that one.

  Just as he was heading to his Porsche, Romeo noticed a suspicious car creeping up the street. Almost instantly, he reached for the small piece in his waistband. He didn’t leave home without it. Playing with a million dollar company there was always some nigga in the shadows gunning for his position. And not even a change of setting could change that.

  Holding onto his chrome tool, Romeo watched as the boxed Chevy crept up the street. The windows were tinted so dark he was barely able to make out the shadows behind them. Romeo’s heart beat in anticipation as he waited for them to make their move.

  SSCRRRRRR!

  The Chevy finally peeled off, leaving behind a thick gust of smoke and uneasy feeling in the pit of Romeo’s stomach.

  ***

  Thirty-two year old Dana Brooks had just popped the cork to a bottle of Hennessey when her girl Monica tapped her. The two of them were showing out and turning up with a group of niggas they’d just met at a sushi bar in L.A. After dinner and drinks, they all rolled out together to enjoy the California nightlife.

  Unlike most women her age, Dana embraced the raucous lifestyle—even with an eight year old daughter.

  “Bitch, tell me why yo’ baby daddy on Instagram showin’ off his new sidepiece?!” Monica exclaimed. With her boisterous ways, she too was a wild card and lived for the drama. However, what she didn’t know was that Dana and Desmond were long over.

  Dana, a habitual liar by nature, refused to let anyone know she’d been dumped six months ago. She figured it was easier holding onto hope than holding onto memories. She and Desmond had been fucking with each other way too long to admit their run was over—and in her mind it definitely wasn’t.

  Snatching Monica’s cellphone out her hands, Dana scanned the filtered picture on her timeline. Sure enough, Desmond was booed up with some foreign-looking chick in what looked like a club. The photo was captioned: Look who I ran into at #Compound? #CouldBeBae #WhoSaidYouCantFindLoveInTheClub

  Dana’s cheeks flushed bright red after reading his comment. Angry would’ve been an understatement. To her knowledge, Desmond wasn’t dating anybody; so to see him kicked back with some random took her by surprise—especially after she’d personally ran the last several off. Dana figured if she couldn’t have Desmond no one could.

  “Oh hell nah,” she said. “This nigga got me all types of fucked up.”

  “Why you trippin’, ma? You wit’ me right now. Fuck dat dude,” her date said. His pride was somewhat wounded after seeing Dana sweat her baby’s father.

  “Nigga, all you did was feed me. Don’t get ahead of your fucking self,” she snapped. “This shit right here, you don’t know nothing about.” Standing to her feet, Dana prepared to leave without even telling her guests goodbye.

  “Wait, where you goin’?” Monica called after her.

  “Home!”

  “I thought we was hittin’ the strip club after. What you going home for?”

  “Fuck you think?” Dana sassed. “To pack.”

  Desmond had another thing coming if he thought she was going to let another woman steal him. A flight to Atlanta was only four hours away, and her baby daddy was in for a rude awakening.

  7

  “So…this is how you livin’ now, huh?” Kimberlyn asked, looking around Desmond’s luxury Buckhead home. After leaving Compound, he treated her to breakfast at Metro Café Diner before heading back to his crib for a nightcap. He always did know how to treat a woman.

  Desmond’s beautiful five-bedroom Mediterranean style mini-mansion sat on half an acre of land, and was virtually tucked off from the rest of the world. “Somebody done hit the lottery or something,” she teased.

  Kimberlyn didn’t even feel right walking through his home with her shoes on. Everything was so shiny and brand new. Damn, even Cool wasn’t doing it this big when he was on.

  “Somethin’ like that,” Desmond chuckled, pulling off his $2400 biker jacket. He was fresher than the Prince of Bel-Air.

  Instead of probing further, Kimberlyn eagerly walked from one room to the next. Desmond’s home was truly a sight to behold, and it was obvious that he’d come up on a lil’ bread since their last encounter.

  “You have a beautiful place,” she called out from a room in the back. “I can’t believe you live here by yourself.”

  “Hell yeah. I worked for it.”

  “What’s in here?” Kimberlyn asked, preparing to open a set of French doors.

  “Oh! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Desmond quickly rushed towards Kim to keep her from opening the doors. Inside was an elaborate hydroponic system, used to store and grow marijuana. The windows were blacked out so guests couldn’t see inside. There was also an intricate venting system to keep the smells under control. “Nah, don’t go in there,” he told her.

  “Why not?” Kimberlyn asked, propping her hands on her wide hips. Ever the Taurus, she despised being challenged.

  Placing a hand on the small of her back, Desmond slowly guided her away from the room. “’Cuz it’s not finished,” he lied. “Paint fumes might fuck with ya head.”

  Kimberlyn gave him the side eye, but decided to drop it.

  “Aye, you wanna drink?”

  “Sure.” Kimberlyn followed Desmond inside his expansive kitchen. Beautiful cream cabinetry and sleek stainless steel appliances made the place look bright and ultra-modern. “Boy, you hardly know how to throw down. What’chu gon’ do with all this?” she teased, taking a seat on a barstool.

  Opening a nearby cabinet, Desmond pulled out a five-year old bottle of Charles Heidsieck champagne. “That’s why I need you here,” he said. “A good ole’ Southern girl to take care of a West coast nigga.”

  “Last I checked you had your baby mama for that,” Kimberlyn reminded him.

  “Man, what’s up with you mentionin’ my baby moms all night?” he asked, slightly irritated. “I don’t see Dana anywhere ‘round this mufucka. I left her and all dat bullshit back in Cali. And I don’t need you remindin’ me about her every few hours. Feel me? Leave the past in the past.”


  There was no trace of humor on Desmond’s face as he spoke. Dana Brooks had taken him through hell and high water throughout their seven year on-again-off-again-relationship. Now that he was finally free, he refused to deal with any woman’s bullshit. He’d cut a chick loose before he allowed that shit to happen again.

  Breaking Dana off a cool twenty grand a month, she lived a luxurious life in Beverly Hills with their daughter—and was pretty much set for life. Every now and then, she hit Desmond up trying to rekindle what they once had, but he wasn’t trying to hear it. A young nigga was finally living stress and drama free, and he planned on keeping it that way.

  “Okay…I got you,” Kim said, pretending to zip her lips together. Her mouth always did get her into trouble.

  Pleased with her response, Desmond poured them each a generous amount of champagne.

  “I know that ain’t the bottle you bought the last night you were here,” Kim said. She was shocked that he’d had yet to open it. They were supposed to share it together, but never got around to it, due to the timing.

  “It is,” Desmond smiled.

  “Why haven’t you opened it yet?!” Kim asked in disbelief.

  Desmond chuckled as he handed her the glass. “You wouldn’t ‘een believe me if I told you.”

  His comment left her mind wandering, but she refused to further pry. After handing her a glass, Desmond took her hand in his and led her out the kitchen.

  Kimberlyn felt like she was experiencing déjà vu as she allowed him to guide her to the family room. Being with him at that very moment felt surreal. Truthfully, she hadn’t even thought about Cool once since reuniting with Desmond.

  Once inside, he motioned for Kimberlyn to have a seat.

  Kicking her heels off, she made herself comfortable on his ivory tufted sofa. Instead of joining her, Desmond headed over to the media center. In silence, Kimberlynwatched as he activated his hi-tech Swarovski LHD fireplace. Afterwards, he placed his iPhone on the dock and turned on Pandora to set the mood.

  You lift my heart up when the rest of me is down…