Summer's Heat

by Mahogany Star

  After midnight the hustlers started to come in from the block, and the clubs. I sat, perched, and watched the living room fill up, each man waiting his turn. I could hear the moans and screams through the project walls, but I think it added to the ambiance of the place, the erotica of it all not allowing any one of the men to last the full forty-five minutes they were allotted.

  At four in the morning, I decided to call it a night and head back to Manhattan. In between customers Carmen smiled at me, seeming so happy to have a nice slice of the money pie. I was actually a little happy I could help her and line my pockets along the way. I counted our intake, at more than four thousand dollars. I smiled, and said to myself, “I guess the back doors’ always an option.”

  Weeks went by and business was doing well. I met Carmen every Saturday morning around ten at some restaurant or another in Manhattan. We never met the same place twice, and she always came correct. It wasn’t that I expected that she never skimmed off the top, I figured she would, but as long as she kept my pockets lined with some petty cash I was happy. On this particular Saturday she came into the Red Rooster looking cute but whorish. I had already ordered my scrambled eggs and potatoes and the waitress sat my plate on the table just as Carmen approached.

  “Summer, baby how are you?” She kissed me on the cheek like she had not seen me in years.

  I looked at her a little confused and she must’ve noticed the look on my face because she asked me “what’s wrong girl? Cat got yo tongue?”

  “No, no not at all. What’s going on? How was business this week? You looking like it must be good, coming in here looking like a million bucks!” I lied.

  The reality of it all was that it didn’t matter how much money she had, Carmen was always going to buy cheap looking hooker like shit. She didn’t have an ounce of class, wearing red lipstick, blue eye shadow, a short gray fur, tight leather pants and four inch stilettos, she looked like the old school hookers from the pre-Giuliani era of 42nd street. I watched her wipe her nose a few times, her eyes wide and bloodshot.

  “Well, things been good girl! Tiff is a real money maker, she did a twelve-hour shift yesterday, seeing ten customers in her shift and she pulled in twenty-five hundred alone. I tell you, I think that girl got a platinum pussy, it’s got to be good, that shit got to be made out of steel!” Carmen said shaking her head.

  “Well that’s definitely good to hear. I’ll try to stop through sometime next week just to show my face to the girls.” I offered.

  “No need boo. I got it. Plus, you don’t want them sheisty ass muhfuckers from around the way to be scheming on you. They know you paid, and nigs and bitches is thirsty these days.” Carmen said like she cared about me.

  “Yeah I’m aware of how thirsty they are, but this is MY business so while I trust that you holdin shit down, I got to be the woman I am, and come and see how my girls doing.” I said bluntly, thinking of the nickel plated nine I kept on me whenever I went to take care of business.

  “Ok cool. Here’s your cut.” Carmen said sliding the large manila envelope across the table.

  “Thanks C. I’m glad that you could come up off of this and eat too.”

  “Yeah me too. Thanks.” Carmen offered without a smile.

  I dug into my scrambled eggs, hoping Carmen wasn’t becoming salty.

  With the business in the projects taking off like it was, and my higher end girls receiving dates two to three nights a week each, I was doing pretty well. An old customer of mine who worked on Wall street put me on to investing. I invested in Mutual Funds, and I played the stock market through one of the larger investment firms in New York. My portfolio was looking good, I checked my last quarterly statement and I had close to half a million stashed. Not enough money to rest on, but I was making enough money to pay my rent, car notes and my tuition. I had enough clients for my staff, and after I did a few calculations I decided that I had enough income from the girls alone to take my coochie off the market, at least temporarily. I was falling head over heals for Dre, and I was feeling weird about starting a sexual relationship with him when I was carrying on a few with various men.

  I continued to send Ty money, I would always make sure he had, but I began missing his calls sometimes just because I was caught up with Dre and other times because I just didn’t want my new business venture to somehow come up in conversation. Carmen had already filled Ty in on my business and he was less than encouraging to say the least. He seemed annoyed.

  It had been about two months since I started seeing Dre. I kept avoiding his invitations to meet his parents. I was always nervous that his mama would be able to see right through me. Yet finally I decided to give in and go meet his mother, who he held in such high regard. I knew he had to be feeling me if he wanted to honor me with her presence.

  Dre said he was going to pick me up at six; we were driving to his mom’s house for the meeting. I put on a pair of jeans, a white fitted tee, a cropped tan leather blazer and my tan cowboy boots and a pair of pearls. I pulled my hair back into a low ponytail, dabbed a little gloss on my lips and I was ready to go.

  “You looking good sweetie!” Dre said as he opened my car door.

  “Thank you babe! So off to mother’s house we go.” I said with a nervous giggle.

  “I can’t wait for you to meet my mom. I think you two will hit it off! My mother is a fashionista just like you. Plus, she’s business smart. I know you can learn a lot from her.”

  I sunk in my chair, wondering if his mother would really like me. All the confidence I usually possessed was gone. I felt like a peasant going to meet the queen. I thought of the profession I had been so proud of for years, and suddenly I felt ashamed. All the nights I lay on my back for men. The hoe habitat I set up for women to sell themselves. All of it made me feel less than worthy.

  “Why are you so quiet?” Dre asked, pulling me out of my train of thought.

  “Oh, just thinking.”

  “A penny for your thoughts, sweetie.”

  “How about a dollar?” I joked.

  “Okay then a dollar. What’s got you so deep in thought? You were thinking about that finance paper that’s due next week?”

  If life were just that simple, I thought to myself.

  “Yeah, that finance paper’ got me going. Aside from, I have some other stuff due.”

  “Well don’t worry, if I don’t know anything else about you, I know you’ll pull that finance paper together in a jiffy and you’ll be looking around like, what’s next?” Dre chuckled.

  He can be so corny sometimes, but I think that’s what I like about him.

  We pull up to a house that looks much like the homes I only saw on TV when I was growing up. Not overly fancy, two story colonials, tree lined streets and manicured lawns. Not where the rich live, but certainly upper middle class and far from the ghetto that I knew.

  “Here we are, home sweet home.”

  I looked at Dre, his face was filled with pride and comfort.

  I got out of the car and took a deep breath. Here we go. It’s now or never.

  Dre grabbed my hand and before he could stick his key in the door, it flung open and large arms grabbed him into an embrace.

  “Baby!” His mother exclaimed like she hadn’t seen him in years.

  Dre hugged her back and then kissed her on the cheek, smiling from ear to ear.

  When he stepped back, his mother stood there beaming. Her arms were outstretched wide.

  “Well come here sweetheart, aren’t you just the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen!” His mama said.

  I stepped forward and she grabbed me in a tight embrace. I could smell the Chanel no. 5 radiating from her large busom.

  His mother was a large breasted brown skin woman with a very casual style. She had aged well; her brown skin hardly had a wrinkle. She had full lips, which were painted a perfect bronze. She had a funky short hair cut and a small waist. She had naturally long eyelashes and it was obvious she kept her eyebrows threaded weekly; they
were full yet shaped so nicely.

  I had learned early on from Ty that when you first meet someone, you observe their face their scent and stance, you can learn more from that than anything they can say from their mouths.

  So when I felt her warmth, my nerves were instantly calmed.

  “Well it’s chilly out here; let’s get inside so we can warm up!”

  We walked in and I admired her taste. Contemporary chic, her living room looked like an advertisement for Raymour and Flannigan. I looked at all of the pictures on the wall; they seemed to be a collage of Dre from birth through adulthood. I smiled inside, looking at Dre look like a straight up nerd with thick black frame glasses in what looked like a third grade picture.

  After making small talk we sat down at the table for what seemed like a feast fit for kings. There was broiled Lobster, fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, black eyes peas, white rice, broccoli rabe, and red skin potato salad. We held hands and bowed our heads in prayer, as a family, something I hadn’t done since I lived with both my parents and brothers when I was a little girl.

  I couldn’t help feeling a little envious of the way Ms. Robinson looked at Dre with such pride. I couldn’t remember the last time I got that kind of affection from a parental figure. I always thought I was too grown to want or need that kind of attention, but watching them sparked something in me. Ms. Robinson was curious about me, but in a good way.

  “So Summer, tell me, what do you find so fascinating about the world of business?” She seemed truly interested in what I had to say.

  “Well, I think as children, we’re often raised with the concept of who we’ll work for when we grow up. I mean what kind of job we’ll have. I learned early on, that the only way to secure myself financially was to go into business doing the things I like to do.” Ms. Robinson swallowed her bite before smiling and speaking.

  “Well dear, unfortunately, most people don’t get that until they’re twenty plus years into a career, working for someone else, really never gaining any sense of accomplishment, let alone financial freedom. Good for you, young lady. I love it!” She exclaimed, sounding truly excited.

  “Summer’s really one of the smartest people I know mom. Besides you of course.” Dre blushed.

  They were so sweet with each other; I felt a cavity coming on.

  “So Dre tells me he hasn’t met your family yet.”

  I wasn’t ready for that statement. “No he hasn’t. With all due respect. My family situation is a little less put together than yours. Dre is special to me, but we’re still getting to know each other and I’d rather save the details of my family for when, you know, well until we get to know each other more.” I tried to be as clear as possible.

  Ms. Robinson didn’t say anything for a few moments. She just studied my face, and I wondered what she was thinking, as my eyes went between Dre and his mother. Dre looked as nervous as me. Then she spoke.

  “I can understand that. But let me tell you something missy. If Dre is as special to you as you claim, you would be upfront with him about your family. Now if he can’t deal with where you’re coming from, well then I must say, he aint the one for you. But give my son a chance. He cares for you, and as far as I’m concerned, I’d be cautious with someone who is so secretive about their past.” She took a moment to pause, and she went on.

  “I wasn’t raised up in any middle class family. My people were dirt poor, share croppers from South Carolina. My own mama couldn’t read a lick! I was raised in the worst part of the Bronx, I got a sister that’s hooked on crack, and a brother that’s doing twenty-five to life for an armed robbery that turned deadly. So young lady, let me tell you, don’t be fooled by what your perception is of what people have, or who they are. You’d be surprised.” With that, she picked up a fried chicken leg and commenced to eating like she had never given me the run down.

  I felt an immediate attachment to this woman, a connection to a parental figure that I thought I couldn’t ever have again. We finished dinner and ate some of her world famous black tuxedo cheese cake, all the while laughing while watching some old footage of Soul Train on the flat screen TV in the family room.

  When we were done eating, I went into the kitchen to help Ms. Robinson clean the dishes while Dre sat snoozing on the couch.

  I was scraping the plates in the garbage when Ms. Robinson said something to me that stopped me, mid scrape.

  “Summer, exactly what are you hiding?” I turned to find her standing with her hands on her hips.

  I felt mortified that she could read me so easily.

  “I’m sorry.” I asked wanting clarification.

  “Well. It’s clear my son is falling for you. To be honest, I think you are falling for him as well, if you haven’t already fallen. I just feel like there’s a piece missing to this puzzle and I don’t want Andre hurt in all of this. I think you’re a beautiful, smart girl, but I’m going to tell you something. If you can’t be real with the one you love, who can you be real with?”

  I took a deep breath before speaking.

  “Ms. Robinson, my mother is a crack head. We lived a nice life till the man I was raised to think was my father found out that my mother got pregnant by some man she was working with, and that I wasn’t his child. We were thrown out on the street like yesterday’s trash. I came up in the projects, left home to live with a guy who was older than me when I was sixteen. I’ve been on my own. Just trying to make it out here in the world the best way I know how.” I didn’t know what her response would be, but I felt a weight lifted off my shoulders.

  Ms. Robinson studied my face before speaking. “Summer, you are doing well in school, with aspirations to do more than just be a victim of your upbringing. We can’t change where we get our start in life, but what we can do is work to make our future better. It seems like that’s what you’re doing. Never be ashamed of the things you can’t control. Actions you can control…well that’s another story.” She looked me in the eye.

  “Well thanks for understanding. I’m going to talk to Andre on our way back to the city. He does deserve to know more about me.” I said, planning to tell Andre the half truth I told her.

  “Good. You want to take some food home?”

  “Of course. You think I can turn down that fried chicken or cheesecake? No way! I haven’t had a home-cooked meal like this in so long.” I admitted.

  “I’m happy you enjoyed it Summer. Besides you can stand to put some meat on those bones of yours.” Ms. Robinson laughed.

  As Dre and I drove back to the city I felt so weird. I finally felt guilty for doing the things I was doing. Before tonight, I didn’t think what I did affected anybody else but me. I always felt I had to do, what I had to do in order to take care of myself and secure my future. I never thought I would care enough about anyone else to let what I did make me feel guilty or ashamed.

  It seems I was falling in love with Andre without even realizing it and we hadn’t even had sex yet. Dre snapped me out of my thoughts.

  “You want to stop by my house before I take you back to your place.” He had a sexy smirk draped across his face. I knew what that meant and I was more than ready.

  “Sure that sounds like a super plan.” I said as I placed my hand on his knee.

  When we pulled up to the newly remodeled Brownstone in Harlem, I felt butterflies for the first time in so many years. Dre opened the door to an apartment on the first floor of the Brownstone. He took his shoes off as soon as he walked in, and I followed suit. As soon as he turned on the light switch next to the door I realized why. He had a cream colored carpet in his living room. His cognac colored leather sofa and loveseat framed the living room nicely as the brick wall throughout the space was exposed. He had a fireplace, and a petite eat in kitchen. It was an adorable place!

  “Let me show you my little place.” Dre said as he grabbed my hand.

  I followed his lead as he took me around the little apartment like he was a tour guide.

  He took me to a small r
oom with a computer desk, and he said “this is where I send you all my emails from.” Then he took me to his bedroom and when I walked in I was impressed. There sat a king sized loft bed with drawers underneath. The bed was so high I imagined he should have a small ladder just to climb in. The room was modest but neat. He pointed to the bed and said “and this is the bed that I spend so many nights thinking about you in.”

  For a moment, I was at a loss for words. I stood there looking at his bed wondering what to do next. Dre tilted my chin upward and placed a slow sensuous kiss on my lips. It was soft and gentle as he used his moist tongue to part my lips. Suddenly, the kiss turned aggressive as he kissed me deep and hard. I was feeling it. I got the heartbeat between my thighs, it was throbbing like it hadn’t throbbed in years not since my early days with Ty. We kissed over to the bed undressing each other with each step.

  He pulled my top over my head and I unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his wife beater. I couldn’t help but to bite my lip and smile. Dre kissed my neck and lifted me by the waist into his high bed. I lay back and watched as he unbuttoned my jeans. I lifted my butt so he could ease them off. He threw them to the side and I sat up and began unfastening his belt and pants. I pushed them down along with his boxers in one shove. He stepped out of them exposing himself. In a quick instance I estimated him at a solid nine inches, with more girth than any girl needs.

  Dre stepped closer to the bed and as I sat there on the edge we kissed for what seemed like forever. I stroked what I had been waiting for, for awhile. His dick felt so warm in my clutch. Meanwhile Dre circled my nipples until they couldn’t get anymore hard and tender to the touch. He kissed his way down to my breast, I gasped for air. His hot warm mouth enveloped one breast while he cupped the other. I began a slow grind into the bed as my body wanted him so bad. I threw my head back, barely able to wait to have him in me much longer. My stroke became more aggressive and I could hear him pant, unable to control the feeling.