by Nikki Rashan
“Stop, Ace, just stop. You keep dangling music deals over my head like I’ll keep dropping to your knees and bowing down to whatever you say. Well check this out, you can’t control me anymore. Not in our relationship and not as my manager. You keep forgetting who everybody is cheering for. Me, not you. I’m running this from now on.”
She leaned against the vanity table. “Is that what you think?”
“That’s what I know,” I responded confidently.
“Yeah, whatever, we’ll see about that.”
“Yep, watch.” Before she could continue the conversation, I walked to the door and opened it for Yoshi to come back in.
“Yoshi, please pack up my things,” I requested of her. She scurried inside and gathered my makeup cases and belongings scattered throughout the room. Ace’s demeanor had relaxed after Yoshi reentered the room.
“I’ll see you shortly,” Ace said to me, a reminder that we had adjoining rooms at a chic, luxury boutique hotel a few blocks from the venue where the after party was being held.
“Yep.” I didn’t say anything additional and Ace left the room.
“Yoshi, unzip me please.”
As she assisted me out of my gown, she asked, “Everything okay, Miss Sugar?” When I hired Yoshi, I requested that she call me Miss Sugar. I felt I deserved that kind of respect every time she spoke to me. “You seem bothered.”
“I’m fine,” I answered her, though it was none of her business that I had secretly begun to feel guilty for what I was about to do to Ace. Our private relationship was about to end in the most hurtful, controversial way. She’d be quietly humiliated, as I had been for eleven years whenever she pretended not to love me. I shook the guilt off and told myself that regardless of how high she had lifted my career, my love was worth more than dollar signs and applause. I’d prove to her that I could have it all: money, fame, and love, even if the love was not from her.
Chapter 11
Sugar Spy
“I heard about your stunt tonight,” Franco said to me over the phone as I sat on the love seat in the bedroom of my suite.
“It was a beautiful song. I hate you missed it,” I responded. “Maybe another time. I’m sure we’ll perform it again.”
“Sugar, you know you about to mess up a good thing,” he warned.
“What good thing? Us? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“You’re playing with everybody’s lives right now, not just your own. How am I supposed to explain to my family why my girlfriend is on stage groping on a woman? Are you thinking about anybody but yourself?”
“Don’t you know I’ve made you what you are? Nobody would even know your name if it wasn’t next to mine. Show a little gratitude here. This ain’t about you,” I reminded him. “It’s easy enough to tell your family we broke up. Explain it how you explained breakups with all your other front women.”
“What?” He sounded panicked. “You’re trying to end our relationship?”
“The show is over, darling. It’s almost time to take your final bow.”
“Does Ace know about this?”
“Ace doesn’t need to know every step I take because this isn’t about her either, it’s about me.”
“I’m calling Ace,” he said like a baby.
“Stop acting like a pussy, Franco. What is Ace going to do, come give me a whoopin’? She is not my momma; I already have one.”
“You on something, Sugar. Stop acting like the world revolves around you.”
“But it does, darling, don’t forget that.” I hung up. “Yoshi!” I called. She opened the French doors and rushed inside from the living room space. “Bring my garment bag so we can choose an outfit.”
Yoshi left and then returned with the large bag filled with at least seven different outfit selections. I wondered if she ever tired of my fetch-and-retrieve requests. Judging by her endless desire to please, I had to assume not. She hung the bag on the clothing rack that we had requested for the room. I fingered through the clothes and tried to decide which outfit would look best on camera that night. I dismissed Yoshi from the room again and dialed Nisha’s number.
“What are you wearing this evening, my dear?” I asked after she answered. “We must complement one another.”
“What would you like me to wear? This is your moment.”
“You must be sexy. But that comes natural, doesn’t it?” We both laughed. “It’ll be hot if we’re both in skirts. You wear something short and fitted with those glorious legs hanging out. High heels. Low-cut top, lots of jewelry. I want your hair wild, but your face has to be visible.”
“Easy. That’s most of my wardrobe you described. What about you?”
“I need you to have easy access.” I picked through a few dresses and settled on a red wrap dress. Nisha could easily open it or lift it, which she preferred. “I have the perfect dress. We’re set. I’ll see you there.”
“Cool.”
“Yoshi!” I called for her again. She came back with her long, jet black hair flapping against her back. “Steam this dress for me, won’t you? I’m about to take a shower.”
“All of your necessities are in there for you already.”
“Thank you.” I entered the master bath with its marble countertop, jet tub, and separate glass shower. I turned on the water, tucked my hair under a shower cap and stepped inside and underneath the hot water. I let the water run over my body and rinse away the salty sweat from my performance. Then, I took my loofah and drenched it with a creamy, perfumed body wash that cleansed and softened my skin. My body was smooth and exfoliated when I exited the shower, and wrapped in a fluffy towel. I rubbed lotion of the same brand and scent into my damp skin while I lay on the bed. I summoned Yoshi again.
“My back,” I told her. She rubbed the cream over my back.
“Anything else?”
“I’ll let you know, thank you.”
She nodded and left.
I put my iPhone on the dock that sat on the nightstand next to the bed, and played tunes from an R&B playlist I had created and filled with both old-school and current hits. While I reapplied my makeup, I sang along with the music, sounding better than the artists who recorded the music. I used liquid black eyeliner to draw extreme lines around my slanted eyes. Over them I applied winged false lashes that angled up and outward, lifting my eyes like a geisha. I applied fire engine red lipstick. Yoshi helped me into my dress and brought me a Prada clutch to carry. Lastly, I put on the platform red bottoms Ace had recently bought me. How would she feel when she saw them wrapped around Nisha’s waist?
When I was ready, I called Ace from the living quarters. I told her I was heading down to my limo. She told me she’d be five minutes behind me. Yoshi accompanied me on the elevator ride down from the twelfth floor. “Is there anything else before you go?” she asked before the door attendant opened the door for me.
“Be sure the room to the adjoining suite is locked. That’s all. Be back tomorrow morning at nine.”
“Yes, Miss Sugar. Have a great night.”
I smiled deviously. “I sure plan to.”
I was shocked when I got inside my limo. “What the fuck, Franco? What are you doing here?”
“Escorting you to the party as I always do,” he said calmly. “Why should tonight be any different?”
“Because it’s a new day. Like I told you earlier, it’s curtain time for you.”
“Well I’m in it ’til it’s over,” he said. He was a spotlight whore.
“Suit yourself. This is your last limo ride anyway.”
He reached for the bottle of champagne that sat in a bucket across from us. “Well I’m about to make the best of it.” He poured himself a glass and had finished it by the time we finished the short ride to the venue. “It’s been real,” he said, seeming to surrender to the demise of our fake relationship and to whatever his unknown future held for him. “What do I need to do? Make it look like we got into a fight or something?”
“No, baby,
I got this already. You just keep your mouth shut the rest of the night.”
He adjusted his tie. “Your wish is my command, Most High.”
“Finally you got it right.”
Franco leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “In all seriousness, you’re the shit, Sugar. I kind of admire you for tonight. I have to admit I’m sort of tired of running around in hiding my damn self. Whatever happens next, we’re cool.”
I doubted he would feel that way in a few days but I chose not to share that with him. “See you on the other side,” I said.
We exited the limo and smiled for a couple of photographers who stood outside the club. We didn’t pose or hug or act like a couple as usual; we walked in side by side with an understanding that it would be our last walk together. Upon entering the large, upscale space, we were immediately taken upstairs to the VIP section by one of the security guards. Prestin met us there.
“Sugar, Franco, this way.” We were seated at a half moon–shaped table that overlooked the dance floor and bars below. Prestin waved to a young girl who looked like a model in training. She was about six feet tall, skinny, with golden blond hair and radiant blue eyes. “This is Amy. She’s here to serve you in any way possible.”
Amy smiled. “I’m a huge fan,” she told me. “What can I get for you?”
“Lemon drop martini for Sugar and a margarita with Patrón for me,” Franco ordered for both of us. Amy left to place our orders with the bartender.
“I’m around all evening; be sure to let me know if you need anything,” Prestin told us. “I’m not sure if you’ve ever met my wife, Jaye. She’ll be here soon and I want to be sure to introduce you,” she said directly to me.
“I’d love to,” I answered honestly. Maybe we could all be friends when this was over.
Shortly after Franco and I took the first sips of our drinks, I watched Ace enter the club, looking delicious dressed in her usual attire, a tan business suit with a blue camisole underneath. She made her way through the growing crowd until she greeted Prestin. Prestin walked her to the staircase that led up to the VIP section. A minute later she took a seat at my side.
“You look beautiful,” she complimented me. Though her attitude was still stiff, she was kind upon her greeting.
“So do you,” I replied.
“What about me?” Franco asked.
“Metrosexually handsome as always,” Ace told him.
Amy came to our table to take Ace’s order. “Grey Goose on the rocks.”
We sat in silence for a while until a few more individuals came upstairs, including several up-and-coming artists who Ace knew. They came to our table, congratulated me on the success of the single, and set up meetings to connect with Ace. Soon the seven tables in the VIP section were filled with musicians, singers, and rappers, their managers, party promoters, and a few wanna-bes who had gotten on the list somehow. Bottles of champagne were popping at every table and the party had begun.
Times like that were part of the reason I loved being a celebrity. We got to party hard, usually free, and were treated like royalty. A few people lit blunts and freely smoked while the rest of us inhaled deeply, appreciative of the contact. The DJ played mostly R&B, rap, and house music. I stood out of my chair, high and buzzed, dancing with the beat and ready for Nisha. My heart beat faster when I saw her dancing on the floor beneath me. She was with another Beau member they called X, moving with the beat of the music. She looked up to me, winked, and held up a peace sign. Only she and I knew exactly what she meant.
Two minutes later I grabbed my Prada purse and told Ace and Franco I would be back. Ace was unusually drunk, comfortable in her element surrounded by others in the industry. This is what we did: we worked hard and partied even harder.
“Yeah, okay,” she replied and went back to her conversation with a large man in a black T-shirt and jeans. Franco hadn’t even noticed. He was too occupied in a talk with a gentleman who was obviously gay. Maybe he’d finally come out of the closet too, I thought.
At the bottom of the staircase next to the guard who protected VIP I met eyes with Nisha. She tilted her head sideways to the right. I looked in that direction and saw Prestin watching me. Rather than pretend like I wasn’t trying to escape the club unnoticed, I nodded my head at her and smiled. She placed a finger over her mouth, grinned, and then gestured for me to follow her. Nisha shook her head side to side to Rock Sandy, and then followed as well and we walked down a hall past the restrooms and around a corner to an exit door at the rear.
“If you’re looking for privacy, there’s a small office to the left.” Prestin pointed to a door a few feet away. “If you want to leave, right this way. Be careful, the alley is dark. I can have one of the guards escort you if needed.”
Without knowing it herself, Prestin had become the perfect accomplice to our plan. “We’ll stay right here if that’s all right. Can you be sure no one gets back here? We’d like some quiet time,” I said with a big smile.
Prestin fanned her face with a wave of her hand. “You got it. Enjoy, ladies.” She walked away, clicking the floor in yet another pair of stilettos.
Nisha and I stared at one another. “You got it?” I asked her.
“Yes.” She reached in her purse and pulled out a camera. We looked around and found a stack of boxes that we could place the camera on top of. Nisha worked the camera, setting the timer and adjusting the focus to night vision. We moved the boxes toward the end of the corner that led back to the club. “Does this seem like the right place?” She spoke loudly enough for me to hear, as she was closer to the music, yet hushed so as to not draw attention toward us. I leaned against the wall.
“How does that look?” I asked.
She peeked through the camera and then moved the camera slightly to the right. “Okay.” She walked back to me, twisting her fingers together, her hands slightly shaking.
“Are you nervous?”
“A little. I’m not nervous about the outcome of this; I’m a little anxious about being with you. I want this to be a memorable experience for you.”
I eyed Nisha from head to toe, my buzz still on high. “I’m already pleased. I’m sure I’ll be satisfied, too.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “Let’s do this. We have about twenty seconds before the first one.”
I stayed my position against the wall and asked her to come forward. “Put your palms against the wall, your arms over my shoulders. Like this.” She did. We positioned our bodies in perfect view of the camera hidden at the end of the hall. I licked my lips. “Now come here.”
Nisha leaned forward cautiously and slowly, until our mouths touched. “You ready?” she asked, her lips brushing against mine. I warmed. Only the third woman to ever touch my body and I was instantly ready.
“Yes.” I kissed her lips slowly, grazing mine against her small, puckered mouth. I heard the first click of the camera. I opened my mouth and invited her inside. Our tongues met and united for the first time. The camera clicked, capturing our exchange through the dim hallway. Nisha removed her hands from the walls and ran the fingertips of both hands down my neck and over my dress. She caressed the sides of my large breasts. We continued to kiss until she lowered her mouth to my neck. I tilted my head sideways. Click. She kissed and licked my neck like it was a sweet lollipop.
“Sugar,” she breathed against my skin. With her right hand she caressed my thigh. Click. Nisha pressed her body against mine. Click. Finally, she opened the slit of my dress and slid her hand inside. I was ready and wanted her more than I thought I did. Her fingers tapped against the outside of my silk panties, musically, as if she was searching for the perfect note. She found it with the rub of my hood.
“Oh shit,” I said automatically. I was no longer aware of the clicks of the camera. All I wanted was her fingers inside of me. I parted my legs, and she lowered the left side of my panties. I stepped one foot out, the panties resting at the bottom of my right ankle. She was careful to position herself so no part of my in
timate flesh showed. She rubbed her masterful fingers against my lips and my clit, until she slid two fingers inside. Up and down I rode her, my focus solely on the pleasure I felt between my legs. Nisha nibbled and bit my skin as she fucked me. For several minutes she stroked in and out until I felt my muscles begin to contract.
She felt it too. “Yes, baby,” she said heavily. I lifted my left leg and wrapped it around Nisha’s waist, opening myself so she could go deeper. I ran my fingers through her curly, wild mane while I climaxed, her hair tight between my clenched hands. I bit my lip to conceal the sounds of pleasure that attempted to escape from my lips. We remained in that position for several moments, until the heightened sensations retreated and my body temperature lowered to a warm and soothing simmer.
I placed my leg back onto the floor and Nisha released her fingers from my flesh. She nibbled on my nose tenderly.
“Did you get what you wanted?” she asked slyly.
“Exactly what I wanted and then some,” I replied.
She lowered her head and smiled. I lifted her chin with my fingers. “Thank you for doing this.”
She took one hand and placed it under her skirt and inside her panties. She was slippery wet. “It was my pleasure, believe me.” We both laughed.
I pulled my panties up and over my moist skin and straightened my dress as best as I could. Nisha patted her hair and smoothed her skirt as well. We walked to the camera, Nisha took the memory card out, gave it to me, and placed the camera back inside her bag. Then we edged to the end of the hallway before the bend that would take us back toward the club. I peeked around the corner and saw a large bouncer with his back to me. He stood near the women’s bathroom, blocking anyone from walking past it, which would have led them directly to us. I cleared my throat loudly. He turned around, saw me and he held up one fat finger for me to wait. A couple of minutes later a group of women exited the ladies’ room. Without turning around again, he walked forward and disappeared into the club.