by Meta Smith
“You okay, now?” Desiree asked soothingly. The sun streamed into the window, signaling the dawning of a new day.
“Not really,” Ginger mumbled.
“Come on. I’ll make you some soup. You’ll be cool. I told you not to take that Percocet.” Desiree stomped into the kitchen and began clanging pots around and slamming the refrigerator and freezer doors. Ginger trudged into the kitchen and sat on a stool. She laid her head on the cool
marble of the countertop.
“You could have killed yourself, you know,” Desiree fussed. “You’re right,” Ginger admitted, her head buried in her hands.
“What? Not Ginny admitting that I actually have some sense? Are you saying I actually know something?” Desiree smirked as she ladled hot soup into a bowl.
“You’re right, I could have killed myself. And I almost did die.” Ginger greedily devoured the soup and signaled Desiree to get her something to drink. Desiree obliged, bringing her a glass of orange juice, and noticed that Ginger’s hands were shaky. She placed her hand on Ginger’s forehead and cheeks. Her skin felt clammy but cool.
“I was on the verge of death. I saw myself from outside my body. I even saw the white light you always hear people talking about. My life passed before me. I saw dead friends and relatives. They were calling out to me, reaching out for me to join them. But God saved me. He told me it wasn’t my time. He said I would make a difference in someone’s life, so he would spare mine. And now I’m giving my life to Him,” Ginger said before gulping some of the juice.
“Excuse me?” Desiree’s neck snapped back.
“I’m really tired now. I’ll tell you all about it later. I need to go pray.” Ginger got up and walked to her room, then shut the door.
Desiree stood in the kitchen in shock. How she just gonna walk off on me like that? What’s all this crazy God mess? I take care of her ass till the break of dawn, and I don’t even get so much as a thank you? Whatever, bitch!
CHAPTER 9
A Week Later
Y
OU READY TO GO TO WORK? YOU HAVEN’T BEEN IN all week. I’ve been balling since I got the twins!” Desiree poked her
enhanced bustline forward.
“You go ahead. Have fun.” Ginger was stretched out in bed, propped up by dozens of pillows. She had a notebook and the Bible spread across the bed, and her television was tuned to the religious station. Desiree inspected the scene.
“What is going on with you?” Desiree frowned.
“What do you mean?” Ginger tried to look innocent, but the act was wasted.
“I mean, you’ve changed lately, Ginny. You don’t care about making no paper. You don’t talk on the phone or go out. And come on, the Bible Network? Are you serious?”
“Look, Desi. I meant what I said that night. I’m done with it all. No more dating, no more dancing. I’m even going to sell my Web sites. I’m going to live righteous from now on. No smoking, no drinking, no sex. Desi, I’ve been born again.” Ginger smiled serenely and grasped Desiree’s hands lightly.
“Uh, okay. Let me tell you what happened. You got too high. You were probably thinking about that time I got too high. Your mind just started playing tricks on you, just like mine did; it was the Ecstasy.” Desiree shook
her head in disbelief.
Ginger locked eyes with her. “No, see, that’s where you’re wrong. When you got high, everything you said to me was true. My life is so empty that only Jesus can fill it up. It’s hard to explain, but I know you know exactly what I mean.”
“No, I don’t!” Desiree countered. “I was just high. I don’t even remember half the shit I said to you that night. And so were you. You were high. That’s all. I mean, think about it. You’ve obviously been doing fine by God. And you’re a good person, that’s what counts. If God wasn’t down with your lifestyle, you wouldn’t have succeeded. You wouldn’t have all this stuff. You’re not just a dancer but a businesswoman. And you would not have taken me in. I was a total stranger. Evil people don’t do things like that. You’re not empty, and all of this Bible reading and praying isn’t going to get you anywhere. Organized religion is set up to control people. You told me that. It’s not gonna pay your bills. Next thing you know, you’ll be giving all your money to some church!”
“How do you know my success came from God? The devil is a liar. He’ll have you thinking good is bad and bad is good. Think about it: does God want me to make money by putting naked women on the Web? I don’t believe that and you don’t either. That’s just the devil trying to scare you, Desi. He wants you to believe that all you will ever be able to do to become wealthy are crooked, shady things. Don’t listen to him. You know you hear Jesus whispering to you to come back to him. The devil don’t love you. Jesus loves you. Hallelujah!” Ginger clapped her hands together, then closed her eyes in silent prayer. Desiree squirmed uncomfortably. Who was Ginger to all of a sudden try to save her soul?
“Whatever. I, unlike you, don’t have a house of my own and a fancy car or businesses. I’m still trying to get there. So I’ve got to go to work.” Desiree was putting an end to all the Jesus talk.
“Go ahead. I’m going to pray for you,” Ginger said, opening her eyes. “I know that you will join me. God’s gonna bless you so abundantly when you just do what he wants you to do. You’re gonna have riches beyond your wildest dreams when you just give your life to him. That’s why he brought us together. I’m going to help you. But you will come when you’re ready, which will be soon. God won’t ignore my prayers.” Ginger smiled that moony smile again and went back to reading her Bible.
Ain’t this ‘bout a bitch? Now she wants to get all religious? Please! Looks like I’m
gonna have to find a new crib if she keeps this up, Desiree thought as she grabbed Ginger’s car keys and headed to Coco’s.
IT WAS TUESDAY NIGHT, AND THE CLUB WAS SURE TO BE
packed with people coming from the comedy show at the Improv in Coconut Grove. Desiree knew that the guaranteed g she was going to make would take her mind off of Ginger. Besides, if Ginger didn’t snap out of her religious fantasy, the money would come in handy when she moved. Desiree felt sad at the thought of moving. For the first time in so long, she’d felt she had a home, a family. Now of all things, God was going to put an end to that. Desiree sighed. This was precisely the reason she wasn’t sure she believed in God anymore. If there was a God, he wouldn’t have let her life be so fucked-up. He wouldn’t have taken away every good thing she’d ever had. Nothing good ever lasted. Why would this be any different?
Desiree ordered a Long Island iced tea spiked with blue curacao to ease her mind and quickly began to make her paper. It was still relatively early, but Coco’s had a nice-sized crowd. By eleven Ginger was the furthest thing from Desiree’s mind. Her garter was stuffed full of hundred- dollar bills, and she had a nice little buzz going. She noticed the energy of the club pick up near the door and strolled over to investigate. At the door was Dirty Dan, a rapper, with his usual entourage of five hard-core, Dirty South, pimp types. Desiree had danced for Dan in the past, and he’d always broken her off nicely. She rubbed her hands in anticipation and headed toward their table as they were sitting down.
“What up, Dan?” She grinned at him. She posed and showed off her new rack.
“Damn! Look at you! Your ass been gone what, a month, and done came back with some titties!” he howled in his hoarse southern accent.
“You like?” she asked, sticking her chest in his face.
“I love them shits. You was always fine, but you that bitch now!” He grinned at her.
“I was always that bitch. You were just sleepin’, that’s all.” Desiree removed her top and started dancing in front of him.
“Shit, you ain’t even got to dance. You got all my money tonight.” Dan pulled out a knot of bills and handed it to her.
“Thank you, baby,” she cooed as she accepted the bills.
That was easy, she thought. Dan licked his lips at her and n
arrowed his eyes, which were full of lust.
“Come on, Desire, roll with me. I got some more of that for you,” he
propositioned, nodding at the money.
“Bet,” was all she said. He had forked over what appeared to be roughly twelve hundred dollars. Desiree had gotten to the point where all she had to do was thumb through a money stack for an accurate count. Desiree could feel her dancing days coming to an end quicker than she had anticipated. And it was without all that religious hoopla that Ginger was carrying on with. All she had done was flash her tits and Dirty Dan had relinquished the ducats with no hesitation. Desiree surmised that Dan was the perfect target to become a full-time sponsor.
Dirty Dan was from Atlanta and spent his time divided between there and Miami. He was a rap veteran, having gotten his start in the late eighties, around the same time as Luther Campbell and the 2 Live Crew. Both rappers had a similar style, but what set Dan apart was the fact that he was extremely handsome—almost too handsome. Dark as midnight, Dan had the silky dark hair and keen facial features of an East Indian or an Ethiopian. He was tall, had a nice build, and Desiree estimated him to be in his early forties, though he still looked to be in his late twenties. But once he opened his mouth, it was all over. He had a grill of gold and diamond teeth and the “Duhty Souf” accent to go with them. Dan made Luke sound like Carlton Banks. But his vernacular had earned him millions, which he flipped several times over.
Dan was married; his wife had appeared in many articles chronicling his self-made rags-to-riches story. But Desiree didn’t care; it made things easier for her. She’d feel no guilt using him, because he had no business dealing with her in the first place. He should have been at home in Atlanta with his wife and kids, not in a Miami strip club. Dan was perfect. By fucking with Dan as a full-time sponsor, she’d be able to stash some money and be taken care of while she started her modeling career. She knew he would bless her with dough, plus he had the industry connections to make her a star.
Desiree quickly put on her clothes and met Dan in the parking lot. “You want to take your car back or leave it here?” he asked her. “We can go out; we can go to my place. It’s whatever you want.” He grinned. Desiree wished he would stop smiling, because the gold teeth were truly fucking her up.
“You live in Miramar, right?” she asked him. “Pembroke Pines. Same thang,” he answered.
“Well, I’m in Miami Lakes, which is on the way. Let me drop off Ginger’s car, and then I’ll ride with you. I want to go to your house,” she offered suggestively.
“Shit. It’s all good, baby girl.”
“YOU WHAT?!” GINGER SHRIEKED AT DESIREE AFTER SHE TOLD
her that she was spending the night at Dirty Dan’s.
“What’s the big deal?” Desiree asked as she threw some clothes into an overnight bag.
“He’s a smut peddler. He’s evil. He’s just going to use you, Desiree. He just wants to put you in porn. He doesn’t care about you. He’s just being nice to you so he can use you and exploit you–”
“And how is that different than how I met you? I mean, didn’t you admit that was the reason you were nice to me in the beginning? Who the fuck are you to criticize him? Who the fuck are you to act like you’re better than him?”
Ginger looked like she had been punched in the gut.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Desiree spat at her bitterly when she couldn’t reply. She tossed the keys to Ginger, her hair over her shoulder, and stormed out of the house.
CHAPTER 10
D
AMN!” WAS ALL DESIREE COULD MANAGE TO UTTER once she stepped into the foyer of Dan’s palatial home.
“Tight, huh?” Dan grinned prideful with his gleaming gold fronts. “Welcome to the Pleasuredome.”
How corny! Desiree thought. What kind of pleasure, other than
financial, could Dan offer her? He could probably eat pussy; but at his age what else could he really be capable of?
“Come on.” Dan walked into a kitchen that made Ginger’s look like it belonged in a tenement. He walked over to a display cooler that showcased fine wines and champagnes and extracted a bottle of Taittinger’s Blanc de Blanc champagne.
“Everybody talking about Cris like it’s the only champagne around. But this shit is good than a motherfucker,” Dan boasted proudly. “We gonna sip some of this,” he informed her, leading her out sliding glass doors and into his spacious backyard. The swimming pool was a smaller replica of Hugh Hefner’s infamous pool and grotto at the Playboy Mansion.
“This is just like that Playboy shit!” Desiree exclaimed in awe. “Yeah. You should see the one at my Atlanta crib. I got more land. My shit there is bigger than Hef’s!” Dan puffed up his chest and popped the cork off the champagne bottle with a flourish. Foam bubbled out from the mouth, and Dan held the bottle to Desiree’s lips. Desiree sipped the foam and licked
the mouth of the bottle suggestively, then grabbed the bottle from his grasp. She took a large swig.
“That is good,” Desiree commented. Dan reclaimed the bottle and began to guzzle it.
“Strip!” he commanded. “I want to see your fine ass in my hot tub.”
Desiree did as she was told. Peeling off her clothing slowly, she maintained eye contact with Dan.
“You are perfect, girl. Them titties set you off. You should be a star, not strippin’ in some club.”
“You the man, Dan. Make it happen,” Desiree countered suggestively. “You got talent?” Dan quipped.
“Put that bottle down, and I’ll show you how much talent I got,” Desiree replied, dipping into the bubbly water of the Jacuzzi. Her breasts sat buoyantly above the water. Dan quickly removed his clothes and joined Desiree in the steamy hot tub. Instantly, his hands were all over her.
“Slow your roll!” Desiree teased him as she caressed his erect penis beneath the foaming warm water. “We’ve got all night.”
“Mmm, I like the sound of that,” Dan moaned as Desiree took a deep breath and disappeared under the water.
THE NEXT MORNING DAN GREETED DESIREE WITH BREAKFAST
in bed.
“What did I do to deserve all this?” she asked him, eyeing the fresh croissants and jam, plate of melon and strawberries, and freshly squeezed orange juice.
“Girl, what didn’t you do?” Dan grinned, the morning sun gleaming off his gold teeth. Desiree giggled at the memory. She had pulled out all the stops the night before, because she wanted to ensure that Dan would be thoroughly whipped.
“I still don’t know how you gave me head underwater! That water is pretty hot in there. I hope it didn’t hurt your beautiful face.” Dan brushed her cheek as he set the breakfast tray across Desiree’s lap. Aww, he’d be sweet if he wasn’t so country, Desiree thought.
“It hurt so good,” Desiree said. “I just wanted to please you, show you how talented I am.” Desiree looked up at him wide-eyed and innocent.
“You got talent, all right!” Dan guffawed.
“Speaking of talent,” Desiree segued, gauging his reaction carefully, “you know I can rap, right?”
“Nah, I ain’t know. You think you got lyrical skills, huh?” Dan queried. “Oh, I know I got skills. You saw for yourself I have a very talented
tongue.” Desiree licked her lips suggestively.
“True dat,” Dan agreed, squeezing her breast as she nibbled on a ripe, juicy strawberry.
“I was thinking, maybe you can help me. I mean, you’re so smart. Everyone knows you’re a brilliant businessman.” Desiree stroked his ego before going in for the kill.
“Well, I am intelligence,” he replied, nearly causing Desiree to choke. “Yes, you are. And I was thinking you could take a listen to some of my rhymes. Give me some feedback. And then maybe–that is, if you think I’m good enough—you could help me get a deal. Or I could just sign to your
label.” Desiree fed him a bite of her strawberry.
“Tell you what, Desire. I like you, girl. You know I always ha
ve. I like you even more, now that I see what a freak you are. So tell you what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna give you a shot. If you can’t rhyme, we’ll get some folks to help you with that. Cuz one thang’s for sho, and two thangs is certain: Don’t no bitch in the industry look as good as you. And image is everythang. But there’s some conditions to this offer.” Dan licked his lips. “Ooh, Dan, do you mean it?” Desiree selectively ignored his comment about the conditions. Desiree could imagine what they were. And Dan hadn’t been half bad in the sack, so she didn’t see giving him an occasional