Bridget, Shireece, and Tierra met up once every other month or so at their favorite entertainment spot, JC’s Jazz Lounge, to unwind and enjoy some good ole’ gossip and great food. Bridget and Shireece were happily married, but it never stopped them from surveying the hard bodies, or being enticed by the many mouth-watering flavors that frequented JC’s. Not for their sake, but for Tierra’s, so they said.
Dressed to impress for every event, party and social gathering, these ladies made it a point to be on the best-dressed list for every event. Their secret weapon to their wardrobe success was a small little known Haute Couture Boutique, Tigrez (pronounced Tee-Grays ). After dinner and dancing at JC’s, they’d round out their Girl’s Night with a trip there to get their shop on.
To their surprise though, as they approached its East Longmeadow location, there was a new decor about the building. Quite different than the last time they were there. They looked at each other, then around the building to make sure they were in the right place, and hesitantly proceeded towards the main entrance.
“Ladies, ladies, it’s so nice to see you again,” a tall gracefully thin, chocolate skin brotha, with a Cesar cut and deep waves spoke towards the trio. His tone was exaggerated, as he made his way towards them. His ensemble as usual was impeccable. He wore a pair of perfectly creased, black dress trousers, a black leather belt with a gold buckle, a light green long sleeved, button down shirt, black cuff links and a gold checkered design on them and his black leather dress shoes had a gold buckle. A Movado large faced watch adorned his left wrist and a single .5ct stud rested in his earlobe.
“Marques, darling,” Bridget began, sashaying up to him, “it’s been too long,” she smiled, while giving him her best rich girl cheek-to-cheek kiss.
“Hello Marques. How’s business? The store looks… different,” Shireece spoke, barely looking at him. She was looking around the boutique instead. “Hmm, what happened?”
“Well, Ms. Shireece, I, we were bought out, partnered by some, well… some wannabe thugs turned businessmen, I think,” he said in a whispered tone, looking around as if he didn’t want anyone to hear him. “I have yet to actually meet them, but they sent over a team of so-called designers and they are responsible for all these décor changes,” he waved his hands around wildly, and raised the corner of his mouth, as he replied.
“Well, it’s not that bad. It’s just going to take some getting used to,” Shireece added sensing his disgust. She tried to ease him by patting him empathetically on the shoulder. “As long as there is still a VIP area, I’m good. Where is it, I don’t see the usual set up,” she whined.
“What?!” Tierra shouted, spinning her head around. She was surveying the boutique as well; but the sound of not having her usual treatment at her favorite place, brought her back to the current conversation.
“Oh no, no worries ladies,” he assured them. “Everything is ok, nothing with the way we do business has changed, just the look. Oh, and our clothing options will be… broader,” he said broader in such a slow manner, it seemed to take a full minute to say the one word. “Our Preferred clientele will always receive that V.I.P. treatment. Come, your area is right this way now.”
Marques led the ladies towards the back of the boutique, then up a metal, black spiral staircase that led to a private area. Sheer cream window treatments hung over the ceiling to floor windows, and were drawn back to the edges. The view below over looked the busy barely busy street. Several bottles of white wine, Merlot, and Evian water bottles rested in a cooler below the counter. Designer coffee, and herbal tea carafes lined one end of the recycled glass counter top. The other end housed several silver platters with fresh cut pineapples, champagne grapes, kiwi and strawberries, as well as crackers and cheese, which Tierra made a B-Line for. Several ladies dressed in all black stood near a black curtain at the end of a small runway, while two attendants stood near the food area dressed in black pants and white button-down shirts with white gloves. There were several clothing and accessory brochures placed across one large table that sat in front of two white circular sofas.
“Let’s go girls… get your rumps into gear!” Marques clapped his hands together while walking through the curtain, shooing the ladies inside as he went. “White Ball items please… the Triple A list,” he smiled, winking back at the trio before he disappeared.
Marques had been the ladies’ personal shopper of sorts, ever since the first time Tierra wandered into Tigrez lost, looking for somewhere to shop, two years ago. He knew what was going on in the market and abroad in the entertainment and business worlds. It was his job to know what his clients would be in the market for, and he was very good at his job. With ViFlaa Entertainment’s White Ball coming up, he knew these three particular ladies would want the very best, the elite and more importantly, the very exclusive.
The models walked down the small runway in gowns ranging from conservative, to extravagant, to super flashy, all the way to the little to no material at all. The ladies sat back and enjoyed the luxuries that their lives had afforded them. For Shireece, it was an excuse to charge up Sean’s Platinum card and spend time with her girl, Tierra. Shopping was their favorite thing to do ever since they received their first paycheck as teenagers. Now, they could afford to shop and not worry about having to choose between two outfits.
“This is the life ladies,” Bridget started, as she lifted her glass of white wine, with a strawberry hanging on the rim. “Here’s to our incredibly successful lives and our Girl’s night out.”
They all smiled, tapped one another’s glass, leaned back, and breathed in deep.
Shireece suddenly sat up, swallowed the last sip of the wine in her glass, and pointed, “That’s it, that’s the one!”
Tierra and Bridget stared at each other, then the dress, then directly at Shireece, like she had lost her mind.
“Really Shireece? You’re definitely going to knock Sean on his ass with that one!” Tierra said, turning her head sideways, looking at the dress.
Bridget motioned for the model to turn around before she spoke, “You young girls. Are you serious? Where the heck is the rest of it?”
The three ladies looked at each other, and fell back on the sofa laughing.
The Morning After
Beautiful Page 7