The Cost of Vengeance

by Glenn, Roy

  “She got big-ass hips like her mama?”

  “She look just like her mama. Got a body like her too,” Bobby said.

  “Suppose that is your daughter? How would you feel about your daughter dancin’ at Grant’s?”

  “It don’t matter ’cause she ain’t my daughter, Mike,” Bobby said, and I could tell he was gettin’ a little mad. Just like he did back then.

  “Let me put it another way. How would you feel if Barbara, or better yet, if Bonita and Brenda were dancin’ at Grant’s? How would you feel then?”

  “But they’re not.”

  “They dance.”

  “They do ballet!”

  “Mercedes told me she used to do ballet,” I said quickly.

  “Mercedes is dumber than a box of rocks,” Bobby partially shouted.

  “What’s that got to do with it? She said that’s why she can stand in them four-inch stilettos and lift her leg straight up in the air—it’s from the balance she learned from doin’ ballet for years.”

  “Fuck you, Mike.”

  I laughed and so did Bobby. “All I’m sayin’ is that you need to find out if that’s your daughter or not. ’Cause I know I wouldn’t want Michelle shakin’ her ass in none of our spots or anyplace else. And I know you don’t want that for your girls either.”

  “You right, Mike.”

  “What she call herself?”

  “Butta.”

  I laughed again. “She got a big, round ass like her mama and her Aunt Connie?”

  “Why you think they call her Butta?”

  “Talk to Keisha. Find out if that’s your girl or not. If she is, give her a better life,” I said and then I dropped it.

  I remembered that night with Connie; more because of what happened the day after. The next morning we went with André to meet with Greg Lacey. He was the closest thing André had to competition those days. Lace was what they used to call up-and-coming. But to me, he was a loudmouth fool who was always talkin’ when he should be listening. Even though I ended up killing André for betraying me, I listened to what he had to say and learned a lot from him.

  But not Lace, he thought he knew it all, and tried to force his way into a piece of André’s game. It began one day when one of the guys who sold heroin for André started operating on a block that Lace considered his. André’s man killed him and Lace wanted satisfaction; so André agreed to sit down with him. The move surprised me, because André was king those days, and sitting down with Lace would make him appear stronger. But André knew what he was doing.

  What surprised me more was when he told me and Bobby that we were going with him. Usually, his right-hand man, Ricky, would be the one to go to sit down with him. “I’m takin’ you two with me,” André said. “But I can’t take you niggas nowhere dressed like that.” That afternoon, André took me and Bobby down to Delancey Street and bought both of us a suit to wear to the sit down. He even had them tailored to fit us. We went and had dinner while the tailor got them ready. That’s how me and Bobby got with Keisha and Connie that night. Keisha liked the way Bobby looked in that suit. Before that night, Keisha wouldn’t give Bobby the time of day.

  We were all set to go to the meeting, when one of Lace’s people called and said Lace was busy and couldn’t make it, but he would be there at ten that next morning. “He’s playin’ me like a sucker,” André said. “But that’s all right; I got something for his ass. Y’all go on and get outta here. And don’t get them fuckin’ suits dirty. I want you both lookin’ fresh; show this piss-ant nigga how a real playa does it.” We left André’s and ran into Connie and Keisha. When we got in her room, I told Connie, “Look, I need to get outta this suit. I got business in the morning and I can’t get it wrinkled.”

  “I ain’t stoppin’ you,” Connie said and helped me get undressed.

  That next morning, I got out of bed and called André to make sure it was still on. He wanted to know where we were, and said that he would come pick us up. I sent Connie to wake up Bobby and I got in the shower.

  When we got to the meeting, Lace was there with four of his men, and he wasted no time. He started talkin’ shit the minute we walked in the place. André took it for the most part, until Lace said, “Your man was operating in my territory.”

  André laughed. “I didn’t know you had a territory.”

  After Lace got finished with his little speech, André looked at me and Bobby. “I’m a reasonable man. So I’m sure we can work something out so both of us can make some money. I don’t want anymore of this unfortunate gunplay.” He looked around the room. “It’s bad for business. So this is how we’ll do it: I’ll keep my people out of your territory and you respect mine.”

  Lace had a big shit-eatin’ grin on his face. “That’s works for me. But I’m tellin’ you now, this shit happens again, I ain’t gonna be this reasonable about it. I’m gonna want blood.”

  I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at him.

  “Nobody wants war,” André said. “Now, pour me one and let’s drink to this peace we just made.”

  Lace poured André a drink and was about to pour one for me and Bobby. “No,” André stopped him, “they don’t drink.”

  André, Lace, and his men, drank and talked shit, while me and Bobby looked on. Then André stood up and started laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” Lace asked.

  “Now that I’m thinkin’ about it, I ain’t givin’ you niggas shit.” When André said that, me and Bobby pulled out our guns and started shooting. The move caught them totally off guard, and we were able to kill two of them before they got their guns out.

  Lace didn’t have a gun, so he tried to run, while we shot it out with his men. André pulled his gun and shot Lace in the back as he ran. Lace tried to crawl away and André walked him down. “Look around you, boy,” André said and kicked Lace in the face. “All this is my territory.” Then André shot Lace in the head.

  Chapter Nine

  Jada West

  Once I had Jenna on board, I began to work with her. I have to say that she was the easiest woman that I’ve ever trained. Since she had been modeling for years, she had the poise and carriage of a polished lady. Jenna knew how to walk, and how to use her eyes and facial expressions to convey certain emotions. Most of my work was spent teaching her how to speak, and adjusting her mindset from being one that looked for a man to please her, to one of a woman whose only desire was to please her client. Jenna Bobbit was going to be excellent.

  As a reward for being such a good student, I took her for her first spa treatment. I always enjoy spa day at Caudalie Vinothérapie Spa in the Plaza Hotel. Spa rituals range from classic massages to wraps and scrubs, facial and body treatments, to nail and waxing services. Occupying the fourth floor of the spa was thirteen treatment rooms, along with a VIP suite for two, a Vichy shower, two hammams, and a unique barrel bath, where guests can soak in red wine or delicately crushed grape extracts.

  Before and after treatments, guests are invited to the private French Paradox Wine Lounge to sip wines recommended by the spa’s sommelier. I usually get the Premier Cru Treatment. It’s an intensely rejuvenating treatment based on Caudalie’s most precious cream. The treatment begins with a calming massage that helps soothe and ground you, preparing you for the experience to come. A relaxation massage is gently performed on the head, neck and shoulders. Next, a deep smoothing of the face and neck; a long sculpting massage to the face; followed by a warm thermal mask. My entire body experiences total relaxation.

  As I lay there, I allowed myself to slip into my usual fantasy. The seduction of Mike Black. I would answer the door to my suite, dressed in a black charmeuse robe with lace silk, and satin high-heel slippers. I’d invite him in and ask him to have a seat. “Champagne?” I’d offer.

  I could feel his eyes on me as I poured the champagne. I’d come and sit down next to him, and we’d chat and laugh the way we always did whenever we’re together. Then he’d lean over and kiss me. “What
took you so long?” I’d ask as his mouth cupped mine again. Then I would stand up and hold out my hand. Mr. Black would take my hand and I’d lead him to the bed.

  I could almost feel Mr. Black kiss me again, nibbling on my chin, and sucking ever so gently on my neck. He would take off his shirt and ease the robe from my body while he kissed me. Once my breasts were exposed, he would lower his head and take my nipple between his lips. Ohh, my. Just thinking about it makes me feel warm sensations rushing through my body.

  Each time I see him, I always plan to seduce him; but something, and that something was usually business, either his or mine, prevents it from becoming a reality.

  As the masseur worked magic with her fingers, I thought back to the last time I saw Mr. Black. It was at a party given by Congressman Martin Marshall. The invitation said that the affair began at nine. I was dressed in a red Carolina Herrera off-the-shoulder, draped silk gown with a deep V back and a high front slit; Jimmy Choo lance mirrored open toe sandals, shiny mirrored leather with a double ankle buckle and a 4½-inch heel. I arrived at eleven; just in time to be fashionably late. I was supposed to meet Diane and Tangela House there, but it was getting close to midnight and I hadn’t seen either of them.

  I knew that Diane wasn’t the problem; she was never late for an appointment. I knew the reason they were late had something to do with Tangela. She had only been with me for a few months. When Diane first brought her to me, I thought she had so much potential: five feet seven inches tall, one hundred and twenty pounds, long silky black hair, full breasts, and curvaceous hips. Although she was black, Tangela’s skin was creamy; almost white enough to pass. At first she worked out well, but lately I’d had some complaints from her clients.

  “Hello, Ms. West,” said a voice from behind me.

  I turned around to see who it was. “Well, hello, Congressman Canfield.”

  “How have you been, my dear?” the congressman asked.

  I looped my arm in his. “I have been just fine. Wondering why it has been so long since we last spoke,” I said as he escorted me to the bar.

  “I’ve been in Washington, my dear; doing the country’s business. And unfortunately, your, shall we say influence, doesn’t extend that far.”

  “My dear, congressman, I believe that is why they made airplanes.”

  Congressman Canfield smiled. “I believe you’re right.”

  “Are you going to be in town for a while?”

  “A day or two maybe,” Congressman Canfield said.

  “Perhaps we could get together for lunch; in our usual spot, of course. And we can discus some type of exclusive arrangement. I’m sure that I can handle all of your needs,” I suggested.

  “Perhaps we could do just that,” Congressman Canfield said, and then he was approached by another man.

  “Geoffrey,” the man said.

  “Ms. West, this is Congressman Terrence Redding.”

  I accepted the congressman’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  He bowed slightly and kissed my hand. “Believe me, Ms. West, the pleasure is all mine. But you must excuse me, I need to steal Geoffrey away from you for a minute,” Congressman Redding said.

  “That’s quite all right.” I turned to Geoffrey. “I hope to speak with you soon, congressman.”

  “I am sure that you will, Ms. West. Please, excuse me,” he said and walked off with Congressman Redding. I’d heard a few things about Redding and I intended to make it my business to get back to him and make him a client before I left.

  I looked at the door and saw the ladies coming toward me. Tangela was wearing a Carmen Marc Valvo halter crepe gown, crafted with delicate sequins, a pleated neckline and an open back. Diane was wearing an Armani Collezioni blue stretch silk gown with ruched bodice, and softly draped front and spaghetti straps. I looked at my watch as they got closer to me. Diane cut her eyes at Tangela. “Sorry we’re so late,” Tangela said.

  “You’re here now and that’s what’s important. Go ahead and mingle,” I said and both ladies started to walk off. “Diane, may I speak with you for a minute?” I waited until Tangela was far enough away. “Okay, Diane, what’s the problem here? You are never late.”

  “I know, Jada, and I’m so sorry. But I had to wait on Tangela to get ready.”

  “What took her so long, Diane? Because her hair was done earlier today and it doesn’t take that long to put on a dress?”

  “Tangela has a problem,” Diane said reluctantly.

  “What kind of problem,” I pressed. “What is really going on?”

  “She has a drug problem and it’s getting worse.”

  “I thought as much,” I said and shook my head.

  “I’m sorry, Jada. It’s my fault.”

  “No, Diane, it’s mine. I should have known that if she was a friend of Crème’s, she had the same issues that Créme did. Go on and mingle,” I said and Diane disappeared into the crowd. I was so disgusted with myself for not seeing that coming. I should have known better. I went straight to the bar and ordered a drink.

  I stood there for a while sipping my drink and thinking about Crème, and I wanted to kick myself.

  The bartender brought me another drink and I looked around the bar. My eyes focused on Tangela standing there talking to Congressman Cantifield and Congressman Redding. I watched as she gently touched Cantifield’s face and looped her arm in his, just the way I taught her. But instead of being happy about how she was working him, all I could think about was her drug problem and how I hoped she wouldn’t ruin my relationship with Congressman Cantifield, or the one I planned to forge with Congressman Redding.

  I finished my drink and was just about to order another when I heard, “Hello, Ms. West.”

  That voice seemed to reverberate throughout my entire body. Suddenly all thought of Tangela, her drug issues, and business, escaped me. I smiled and turned around. “Good evening, Mr. Black.” He was wearing a tuxedo and he was wearing it well.

  “You look extraordinary this evening,” Mr. Black said.

  I gently touched his face and looped my arm in his. “Why, thank you, Mr. Black. You look very handsome in a tuxedo.” And I want to rip it off you, I thought, but didn’t say.

  “I was just about to get a drink. Can I get something for you?”

  “I’ll have whatever you’re drinking.”

  He signaled for a bartender. “Remy Martin, VSOP, and one for the lady.”

  “I think you better make mine on the rocks,” I said and thought back to the days when I used to drink Hennessy straight from the bottle.

  “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Black.”

  He leaned close to me and I wanted to kiss him. “Believe me, Ms. West, it is my pleasure to see you. Did I mention how nice you look in that dress?” he asked as the bartender returned with our drinks. He handed one to me.

  “Yes, I believe you did, but don’t let that stop you,” I said and laughed a little. “You can never tell a lady that she looks nice too many times.”

  “Well you look beautiful, Ms. West.”

  “I’m actually quite surprised to see you here. I know that you mentioned that you knew Martin Marshall.” I looked around the room. “This just doesn’t seem like your type of affair.”

  “It’s not. And I was just leaving. That’s when I saw you standing here, and I had to come and say hello.”

  “I am so glad that you did.” I looked at him; he was undressing me with his eyes. “I’d ask what you’re doing here, since you said this isn’t your type of affair, but I don’t think you’d tell me.”

  “You really want to know?”

  “Yes.”

  “I had some people to meet. This is where I could meet with them all at one time; socially of course.”

  “Of course,” I said as the band broke into a slow vamp.

  He put his glass on the bar. “Would be like to dance, Ms. West?” he asked and reached for my hand.

  “I would love to dance, Mr. Black.” I accepted
his hand and followed him onto the dance floor. He pressed his body against mine and I melted into him. It felt so good being in his arms. I closed my eyes and my thoughts drifted to the scene I’d imagined in my suite: Imagining how it would feel to have him inside me. I thought about whether I was going to wait to be asked, or if was I just going to offer myself to him.

  When the song ended, he led me off the dance floor to very impatient looking woman. “Ms. West, I’d like you to meet my lawyer Wanda Moore. Wanda, this is Jada West.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Moore,” I said graciously.

  “Likewise. Are you ready to go, Mike,” she asked and glanced at her watch.

  “You have to go?”

  He looked at his lawyer and then at me. “I have someplace I need to be,” he said.

  “And we’re already late,” Ms. Moore said and I wanted to kick her.

  I put on my best smile. “I am sure I’ll see you again soon, Mr. Black.”

  “I’m sure you will, Ms. West,” he said. And that night, once again, I watched him walk away from me.

  Chapter Ten

  Nina Thomas

  After the night I’d had, I wasn’t surprised that I slept late that day. I had just gotten out of the shower and dressed when the doorbell rang. I went to the door and peeked out. Since I didn’t see anybody, I yelled, “Who is it?”

  “It’s Leon,” he said and stuck his head where I could see him.

  I opened the door and let him in. He gave me a big hug and we talked for a while, and then he got quiet. “You wanna tell me about it?”

  “About what?”

  “About what you and your friends is plannin’, Nina.”

  “How you—,” I started to ask, but I knew the answer. “Pearl told you?”

  Leon laughed. “No, Pearl told Diamond; Diamond told me what you was plannin’. I came to talk you out of it.”

  “We took care of it last night,” I said.