Diamond Playgirls

by Daaimah S. Poole; Miasha; King Deja; T. Styles

  “Mona…introduce me to your clients,” Drake Craven, a TVEA executive, said, approaching Mona’s table. He seemed to have come from nowhere, but then again, most snakes do. Mona could see in his eyes that the only person he wanted to meet was Melonie. He looked handsome wearing his black suit, white crisp shirt, and black silver-accented tie. His dark chocolate complexion and large white smile made him irresistible to most women.

  “Sure…but where’s your wife?” Mona responded as she grinned at him. “I don’t remember seeing her here tonight.” She looked around the party, pretending to be searching for her. But Mona knew he always left his wife home on party nights. He’d cheated on her at least eight times, that she was aware of.

  “At home with the kids,” he replied nonchalantly. He seemed to know full well what she was doing, trying to prevent him from reaching his prey…Melonie.

  “In that case, this is Melonie,” Mona said, pointing to the starstruck actress. She was already staring at him with schoolgirl eyes. Remaining in her seat, she reached up and extended her hand. He kissed it softly and gazed into her eyes. “Uh…mm!” Mona yelled, clearing her throat and breaking him out of the hypnosis he was attempting to put her under. “And this is Dayshawn.” He shook his hand and Dayshawn held it a moment longer. Drake snatched it away and wiped it on his pants leg. Mona smiled. “And now since you’ve met everybody, I trust you’ll have a nice night.”

  “I got it…I got it,” he said. “Mona…it’s nice to see you again,” he continued as he grinned at her. “And you, too,” he said, quickly turning to Dayshawn. “Good luck, guys. You’re working with the best.”

  Whatever! Mona thought, raising her glass in the air. Get your punk ass away from my table.

  “Melonie, stay away from him. He’s bad news,” Mona advised.

  Melonie removed the smile from her face, looked down at her plate, and then back at Mona. “I will.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “I know.”

  Once again she looked for Turnstile. Instead she spotted the woman she hated more than failure strut through the doors wearing a pearl-colored dress by Nina Ricci. Her hair was in a classy bun and she completed the look with her six-carat diamond set. Mona developed an immediate headache the moment she reached the table.

  “Well, looky here! If it’s not Mona Lisa Dupree, the soon-to-be washed-up casting director.”

  “And if it isn’t Iesha Champagne Carter,” Mona retaliated in a coy tone. “The has-been actress nobody in Hollywood wants to work with.”

  “Now…now, Mona,” she sang, sitting next to her, uninvited. “You of all people should know my name is Shawna Carter. Despite me not having anything to do with your so-over-it’s-not-even-funny agency.”

  Mona smiled. “As I recall, I’m the one who rejected you. And is that a new nose you’re wearing?” Every time she saw her she had another plastic surgery operation to take away the past.

  Shawna blanched. “I hear you live here in New York now. How many quick fucks have you run through thus far?”

  Dayshawn and Melonie gasped.

  “One.” Mona grinned, raising one brow. She was making it clear that she was far from being ashamed about her love for sex. “But I have my eye on a few more. And how many oodles and noodles have you sucked down today?”

  “Haven’t had to, sweety,” she said. “I know you’ve read the papers.”

  While Mona and Shawna took turns poking holes into each other’s reputation, Dayshawn and Melonie sat quietly observing the two. Dayshawn was giving the look of I can’t stand this bitch while Melonie was hoping to be like her. She’d followed her career and mirrored herself after her every move.

  Mona Lisa hated her guts. They’d been college-mates at Howard. Mona Lisa remembered how she’d beg her for some of her Cup of Noodles soup because she was too broke to afford her own. Iesha was looked upon as being weird back in their college days, and if it hadn’t been for “fly girl” Mona, she would have remained the laughingstock on campus.

  To better her reputation, Mona convinced her to take part in school movie productions and plays. Surprisingly enough she was good. Iesha quickly found her niche…acting. When Mona won her first account years later, and needed an actress for the right part and thought only of Iesha, she nailed it and Mona was able to cast her in slightly larger roles.

  Eventually Mona came to her about a part in a movie she was casting titled Slighted alongside Angelina Jolie. They loved her, so much so that her career skyrocketed. She was now big time. When MGM requested Iesha again in a smaller role, she agreed, provided MGM would make sure she had fresh pink roses in her dressing room every day, a limousine ride to and from every taping, and last but not least, a massage therapist on call. What pissed Mona off was not her unreasonable demands, but the request that everyone including Mona call her by her new name…Shawna Carter. Even upon granting her impositions, she still was unprofessional.

  Somehow they were able to complete the movie, but Mona made it her business to never deal with Shawna again. So it was funny to Mona when DreamWorks sought her assistance to find new talent for a movie with Denzel Washington. Shawna immediately contacted Mona Lisa after hearing she had the inside track. Mona responded by ignoring her and the two had been enemies since.

  Now bored with Mona, Shawna directed her attention to Melonie, who was staring at her. “So…you must be one of Mona’s new clients.”

  “Uh…yes…I am. And I’m also a fan of yours.” They shook hands. “Do you mind signing my napkin?”

  “Sure,” Shawna responded, adding her name to the many already present on the list.

  “I’ve watched every movie you’ve ever been in.”

  Mona was disgusted with how Melonie was acting considering she had told her to remain calm and not come across as a groupie.

  “Well, isn’t that something?” Shawna said, glancing over at Mona Lisa. The look on her face said, Now I got you, bitch. “Well, if you ever want to talk to me about anything, you should know that I’m available to you.”

  Mona Lisa stood up, abruptly pushed her chair back, and said, “Shawna, walk with me.”

  “Sure…” She smiled. She stood on her feet, handed Melonie her card, and followed Mona Lisa to a corner.

  “So, what’s up?” Shawna asked with her hands on her hips. She seemed amused at how upset Mona was until she felt the smack.

  With that Mona quickly grabbed Shawna’s forearm and pulled her toward her. “Play it off,” Mona whispered. “People are watching.” She pointed. Shawna rubbed her face since all the blood had rushed to it.

  They both saw all eyes on them. Seeing the two archrivals together was bound to be news, so they both had to remain cool. Shawna feared the press even more than she feared Mona Lisa.

  “Good girl,” Mona encouraged.

  Smiling and regaining her composure, Shawna snatched her arm away from her and said, “You’re gonna regret putting your hands on me, bitch.” After that she smiled at a few people who raised their glasses in their direction, still shocked to see them together.

  Shawna and Mona waved.

  “And you’re gonna regret it even more if you don’t leave my clients alone.”

  Shawna stared at her inquisitively and replied, “Are you threatening me?”

  “No! I’m making a promise. Stay out of my life,” she said, pointing at herself. “And I’ll leave you to yours.”

  She walked off and left Shawna standing alone. She had almost reached the table when she saw Turnstile there. “Shit!” she said to herself.

  She had wanted to prepare him for Dayshawn before he met him, and now it was too late. If she hadn’t been fooling with Shawna she could’ve done that. Now he was speaking to Dayshawn, who was swaying with every word he made.

  “Oh, I see,” was what Mona heard Turnstile say when she approached the table. His face was beet red.

  “Well, I see you’ve met my clients,” she said, breaking him from the trance he was in.

 
“Uh…yes…I did,” he said, wiping the sweat off his head with the white engraved handkerchief. “But if you’ll excuse me.” He looked at Dayshawn and then Melonie. “I’d like to talk to Mona alone.”

  Neither of them objected. And when they were alone, Mona said, “Before you say anything, hear me out. Dayshawn is what you’re looking for in this movie. I’ve heard him read his lines and I’m asking you to accept my professional decision and let him audition.”

  “But he’s all wrong!” Turnstile’s cheeks jiggled as the words exited his mouth, and light sprinkles of his spit hit her face.

  “Please?” Mona started turning on her sex appeal. Although she didn’t sleep around for a break, she reserved the right to use her charms when necessary. She intertwined her arm with his and continued. “Trust me…you won’t be disappointed.”

  “But…but—”

  “Have I steered you wrong yet?” she interrupted.

  Fixing his eyes on her breasts, he said, “No. You haven’t.”

  “Well, why would I start now?”

  “But—”

  “Trust me, Turnstile,” she interjected. “I pick only the best.”

  “That’s what you said about Shawna.”

  She didn’t let him know the low blow he just dealt hurt. “Everybody makes mistakes…and she was mine.”

  “All right…” he said reluctantly. “I’ll let him audition.”

  “Thanks…” She smiled. “We won’t let you down.”

  She was proud of her skills of persuasion until her BlackBerry began to move in her purse. When she grabbed it, she saw a number she didn’t recognize. Figuring it was one of her past sex interests calling from a different number, she gently pressed IGNORE. But the unknown caller was persistent and called back again. Deciding it must be important, she excused herself from Turnstile to answer the call.

  “Hello,” she said as she held the phone with her right hand and used her finger to press her ear with the left, to mute the background noise. “Who is this!” she yelled.

  “Is this Mona?” an unfamiliar male voice asked.

  “Yes. Who is this?”

  “Nat. You have a minute?”

  Mona Lisa stood silent, in the middle of the floor.

  Mona Lisa was getting prepared to feed her sexual needs by a man she’d met in the bank the week before. She was trying to focus on his touch, but Nat, and the conversation they’d had, threw her off.

  She thought about him all day and was hoping the handsome stranger would change things for her. Nat was given her number by Vincent, a mutual friend. He had run into Mona the day before she moved to Harlem. Had she known he still kept in contact with Nat, she would’ve advised him against giving out her number.

  The conversation was short because Mona made it that way. He wanted to know how she was and what she was doing. She kept her responses to the point, trying to give him the hint she didn’t want to talk. Eventually she used the party as an excuse to end the call despite leaving shortly after anyway. As soon as she hung up she was sorry she’d done so. It was good hearing his voice after all their time apart. But still, she thought, it was for the best. I don’t have the time or inclination to get caught up with some guy looking for a relationship.

  “You feel so good.”

  Mona focused on her latest conquest. There was something about Grande Stewart’s smoky gray eyes, muscular body, and size 12 shoes, which had caught her immediate attention.

  “How does this feel?” he asked as he stood at the foot of the bed and massaged Mona’s left foot as she lay flat on the bed. He was wearing nothing but white Hanes boxers.

  “Ummmmm,” she moaned. “Nice.”

  “I’m just getting started,” he said, licking his full lips.

  She’d closed her eyes to savor all of the attention she was getting by this perfect stranger when the phone rang. At first it startled her because lately she’d been receiving an excessive number of prank calls. And normally her phone would be off whenever she participated in her favorite pastime…having sex. But with her father ill, she had to be available at all times.

  “Excuse me.” She winked as she extended her arm to grab the BlackBerry off the nightstand in her room. “Hello?”

  “Mona…it’s me,” Ray said in between sniffles.

  “This better be good,” she said as the stranger playfully pulled her legs and placed all five of her toes in his mouth at one time. “Scratch that, this had better be damn good!”

  “He doesn’t want me,” she cried.

  “Whooo…doesn’t…want…you?” she asked. It was difficult for her to show compassion in between getting her toes sucked.

  “Sony! He told me his wife found out about us and he doesn’t want me anymore.”

  “Okay…calm down,” Mona said, trying to regain her composure even though he had now placed her second set of toes in his mouth. “Maybe it’s for the best.”

  “Don’t say that, Mona!”

  “I’m serious! He’s nothing but trouble,” she explained as the stranger began to run his tongue up her inner thigh. “Shit!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Can I call you right back?”

  “Why? What are you doing?”

  “Nothing. Besides, you wouldn’t want to know,” Mona continued. When he moved his tongue over the tip of her clit, it was a wrap. She could no longer contain herself. “Ahhh…my…goodness,” Mona cried out.

  “I know you’re not having sex while I’m on the phone. That’s so gross!”

  “In that case I’ll call you later.”

  She didn’t even give Ray a chance to respond before she hit the red button and tossed her phone on the table. But five seconds later, the phone rang again. Against her better judgment she answered. “What, Ray!”

  “This is Turnstile! Have you heard the news?”

  “No…why…what’s going on?” she asked, pushing the stranger off her with her feet. She sat on the edge of the bed and he fell to the floor.

  “Melonie was locked up for placing a Molotov cocktail in Drake Craven’s car!”

  “What!” she asked, standing up straight. “I don’t understand!” She began pacing the floor.

  Why would she do something so careless? But then she remembered. He was the same man who was so eager to meet her at the party. It all made sense now. A young and impressionable Melonie had fallen victim to one of his high-profile games.

  “You don’t have to understand, just do something! And when you’re done, come to my office…or I’ll start going elsewhere with my business!” He abruptly ended the call and Mona ended her party.

  Mona was tired and weary when she reached home. Her night had just ended at eleven o’clock. Upon getting the news about Melonie, she had to bail her out of jail and subject herself to Turnstile’s verbal abuse. He threatened to have her blacklisted if his production didn’t go down as planned because of Melonie’s tirade. And with the weight he carried in the industry, she knew he could.

  When she reached the front of the building she heard Jerome yell, “Hey, beautiful lady. You got a minute? I need to talk to you about something.”

  “I don’t even have a second,” Mona grumbled.

  “Really? What if I say it was important?” Jerome said, flashing his yellow teeth.

  “Not now, Jerome,” she said, cutting him off and entering her building. There was no way she’d waste her precious time on him.

  “Whatever,” he said, waving her off.

  When he was out of sight, she placed her key in the door and was pushed inside by someone.

  Turning around, she looked into the face of a man she hadn’t seen since she first moved to Harlem. He must have silently run up the building steps behind her. Which meant he must have been sitting in his car waiting for her to show up. But why?

  “John?” she said as if she didn’t know.

  “I came by to talk to you. Got a minute?” he asked, standing in front of her in the narrow hallway of her brownstone.r />
  “Uh…actually,” she hesitated. “I was getting ready to—”

  “It’ll only take a minute,” he interjected, backing her against the wall.

  He smelled as if he’d been drinking all day, and the gray overalls he wore smelled of sweat and funk.

  “Okay,” she said, trying to find a way to get out of this. “What do you want?”

  “I wanna know why you played me like you did.”

  “John, I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You know what the fuck I mean,” he said, growing increasingly upset. “So stop playin’ games!”

  Her body fell limp up against the wall.

  “John, whatever I’ve done to you, it wasn’t intentional,” she managed. “Now if you’ll excuse me.” She stood up straight, preparing to walk around him. “I have a few calls to make.”

  But when she tried to push past him, he grabbed her by the arm and attempted to pull her out of the building’s door until her neighbor stepped into the hallway. Her golden brown hair was swept up into a neat ponytail. She was gripping a thick black bathrobe and it appeared as if she’d just woken up.

  “Excuse me,” she said, looking at John and back at Mona. “I’m not trying to interrupt anything, but I heard you out here and figured I’d let you know the mailman delivered some of your mail to my box. If you want to step inside, I can give it to you.”

  “Oh…yeah…I’ll get it now,” Mona responded, staring at John. She could tell he was angry at the very timely intrusion. He glared at Mona, and then the neighbor, and left the building.

  Silence stood between them for a few seconds as Mona got herself together. “Thank you.” She smiled.

  “No problem,” she replied flatly. “Good night.”

  Mona walked to her apartment and thanked God for preventing what could’ve happened.

  Mona Lisa walked into the hospital room as quietly as possible. She could hear the low hum of the machinery her father was connected to. She was doing her best to prevent disturbing him. She couldn’t believe he’d been in the hospital for a week before she was notified. But that was just like her father. Always trying to take care of things on his own, and not worry her.