Hardhearted

by Sherrod Tunstall

  King sat on her throne like the true royalty she was. In her mind, it was like “Fuck the queens. Why be a queen when you can be a king?” That was a philosophy she’d picked up from one of her idols, King Nzinga of Angola, who believed she was equal to any man.

  Once King was seated, Blood took a seat.

  “Damn, girl, you look dynamite in that dress. And you are glowing,” Blood said, looking at her like a hungry wolf.

  “Hmm.” King wasn’t moved by words she’d heard time and time again.

  Swag wanted to laugh because King seemed to dis Blood.

  Ivy, though, knew her daughter was the shit. That’s what she loved about her. On the other hand, she hated King, because, looking at her child sitting on her throne chair made her think that, that should’ve been her throne. Ivy always felt the Palace, and maybe Costa Rica, could’ve been hers if King weren’t in the picture. Trying to block out her would’ve, could’ve, and should’ve thoughts, Ivy took a deep breath. She wanted to break the ice in the room and semi size up her own child. She got up and straightened her dress.

  “My baby and Josephine looking good tonight.”

  King and Josie looked at Ivy like she was drunk.

  What does this crazy ol’ whore got up her sleeve? King thought.

  “Y’all young boys like these young girls, huh?” Ivy said, laughing.

  Everyone sat in silence, looking at her as if she’d lost her mind.

  She sat on the table, spread her legs, and let her old puss breathe air. “Why y’all want orange juice when you can have Dom Pérignon.” She winked at Swag. “Meow.”

  Swag wanted to vomit at this pathetic, attention-seeking whore. Trick, this ain’t Basic Instinct, and you damn sure ain’t no Sharon Stone, he thought.

  Josie’s Egyptian Mau cat crawled on the table and inched toward Swag and Ivy.

  “Hey, cutie.” Swag rubbed the beautiful cat and tried to block the visual that Ivy was serving him.

  King wasn’t feeling either one of these scenes. The cat she could deal with, but her mother was another story. Sometimes, King wished her mother would grow the hell up and stop having the mind of the 16-year-old girl she once was. If Ivy weren’t her mother, playing these old ho games would’ve gotten her killed a long time ago. Ivy was still competing with King’s girls and giving young boys her money just to sleep with her. One thing she wasn’t going to let her do was get to her new catch, Swag. King slammed her hand on the table and screamed at the top of her lungs, “Goddamnit! Get that pussy off the table!”

  If there was one thing Ivy knew not to do, that was not to mess with her child. She quickly hopped off the table and got back in her seat.

  King laughed at her mother. “I meant the cat.” She pointed at the cat.

  Swag took the cat off the table and held it in his arms. King looked at Josie. “Didn’t I tell you I didn’t want that fleabag in my dining room?”

  Josie got up. “I know, Mom. I’m sorry, but Chiquita followed me here. I couldn’t take her back upstairs because I didn’t want to be late for dinner.”

  She took her from Swag and held the cat like a baby. “Chiquita, hi, baby . . .” Josie kissed her cat on the forehead.

  “Chiquita is a cute name,” Swag said. “You named your cat after a banana, ma?”

  Everyone laughed except Josie.

  “No, I didn’t name my cat after no damn banana. I named her after the cheetah of my idol, Josephine Baker, that she used in her shows. The cat will have to do since Mom won’t let me have a real cheetah.”

  “You damn right you ain’t getting a cheetah in my palace. There’s only one boss in this bitch, and that’s me.”

  Swag smiled at Josie and her cat. “She’s still a beautiful cat, though.”

  “Thank you, Solomon. I love her so much, my mini cheetah.” Josie kissed her cat again.

  King wanted to throw up. All attention was supposed to be on her, and her alone. It was bad enough she had to semi compete with her mother. The last thing she wanted to do was compete with her adopted daughter and protégé. She had to get shit in order before dinner came.

  “Cleo!” King yelled.

  Within seconds, Cleo walked in and bowed to King. “Yes, my lady?”

  “Cleo, my dear, please remove the feline.” King pointed to the cat.

  Cleo walked over and removed the cat from Josie’s arms.

  “Thank you, Uncle Cleo,” Josie said, handing her over. “Love you, Chiquita.” She kissed the cat again.

  Chiquita meowed as Cleo exited the dining room with her.

  King cleared her throat. “Well, now that the interruptions are over . . .” She glared at her mother. Bitch, stay in your lane. She smiled at her crew and guests. “King wishes to eat. Let’s have dinner.” She snapped her fingers at the musicians to play some music while the chefs started to bring in dinner. The musicians played the famous Japanese ballad from the opera Madame Butterfly. Two muscular guys came in carrying a long charcuterie board with a beautiful naked Japanese woman on it. She looked about 18 and resembled a real Barbie with flowers and raw fish surrounding her. They placed the board at the head of the table. Another set of muscular guys came in with another charcuterie board. This time, there was an attractive, naked Japanese man on it with flowers, shrimp, and raw fish surrounding him. They put the board on the table and exited the room. Right then and there, Swag was sick to his stomach. He knew King was crazy, but eating people was insane. At that moment, Swag became a vegan.

  Blood smiled as the waiter brought in soy sauce, sake, and gold chopsticks. “Mmm, my favorite.” He licked his lips.

  Swag and Tyler looked at each other, then at Blood. King rubbed her hands together and was ready to dig in.

  Swag decided to speak up. “Uh, King, no disrespect to your sexy hospitality, but this where I put my foot down.”

  King giggled like a schoolgirl. “Solomon, bae, what are you talking about?”

  “I’m not a cannibal, okay? I don’t eat people. I’ll eat some good punany, but humans, in general, are where I draw the line. Yo’ people got any salad?”

  King eyed Blood, who eyed Madam Lourd, Josie, and Ivy.

  Oh Lord, Swag thought, as his heart started to thump against his chest. Tyler and Midnight shook their heads.

  Damn, bruh done fucked up now, Tyler thought, lowering his head.

  King and her family started laughing at Swag. Ivy looked at him and giggled.

  “Ba . . . by, are you serious?”

  “Yeah, you really think we some type of zombies about to eye them on the table?” King laughed and held her chest. She was many things to so many people and was a savage beast when it came to her business. But never in a million years would King eat human flesh. Hell, she had to watch her sexy girlish figure.

  “Darling, you can tell these Americans have never been anywhere,” Madam Lourd said as she took another sip of scotch and pulled out a cigarette. She lit it and took two puffs. Then she started to cough real hard and choked on the smoke.

  Midnight jumped from his seat and hit her back. “You okay, ma’am?”

  Madam Lourd waved him off. “I’m fine, dear, please, go sit. And none of that ‘ma’am’ shit. Madam or Madam Lourd will do just fine.”

  Midnight eased back in his seat.

  Madam Lourd, like Ivy, hated the word “ma’am.” She hated that she was getting older by the day. She knew it wasn’t long ago that she was once the beautiful island girl from Trinidad and Tobago. She was every man’s desire. Like the thousands of girls, she was one of many who were sold to the Palace at the age of 8 by her family who couldn’t afford to take care of her anymore. They hoped that someone in the Palace would take care of her and make her a real woman. In the beginning, she tried to run away but was beaten by her former madam. In the end, she learned to make the best of a bad situation. She went from house servant to being schooled, to being a sophisticated escort, to sharing her position as a madam with another person whose name she never spoke in King’
s presence. Now that she was retired from her position, the only thing Madam Lourd looked forward to was traveling, going to high-class social parties, her scotch, her wig collection, and cigarettes.

  Madam Lourd looked over at Midnight, realizing she was slightly rude to him. In reality, she was grateful for his swift actions.

  “Thank you.” She took another puff of her cigarette.

  Midnight nodded. “Anytime, ma’—I mean, Madam Lourd.”

  She laughed and licked her lips. One thing Madam Lourd liked more than old movies was sexy chocolate men with a big stick. Shit, just because she was up in age didn’t mean she didn’t want to be dicked down good. Madam Lourd tried to seduce him with her eyes and mouthed to him, “Meet me in my room later.” She winked at him.

  Everyone laughed.

  Midnight turned around and tried not to blush. He would screw her in a heartbeat.

  King was starving and wanted to change the topic fast. She cleared her throat, and everyone looked at her. The room went completely silent. She addressed Swag.

  “Solomon, baby, we aren’t cannibals. This dish is called Nyotaimori/Nantaimori. It’s a Japanese human sushi bar. Watch.” She got out her gold chopsticks, went over to the female body, and removed sushi from her right nipple. She dipped the sushi in soy sauce and placed it in her mouth.

  “Mmmm, delicious.” She noticed the girl’s hard nipple, so she bent over and sucked almost all the sake mixed with sushi juice off her breast.

  “Aah,” the girl moaned while trying to maintain her pose. After all, she was getting paid for being there.

  The guys were turned on by the action—this was one dinner table they didn’t mind sitting at. King took one last swipe of the girl’s nipple before she sat back down to eat.

  “Dig in,” she said.

  Everyone picked up their chopsticks and dove right in. Swag was trying to get the hang of the chopsticks, but the task was difficult. King laughed, then showed him how to use them.

  “Thanks, bae,” Swag said, smiling at her.

  Blood was hot, but to keep the peace, he didn’t say a word. Swag got up to get some oysters from the girl’s vagina area.

  “Mmm, oysters,” Ivy said, purring like the late Eartha Kitt. She rubbed Swag’s shoulders. “You know what those can do for a man’s sex drive?”

  Swag spit the oyster from his mouth. He managed to play it off like he was choking, but he was annoyed by Ivy. She was a pro at getting into people’s personal space and didn’t think it was offensive. To Swag, it was.

  She rubbed his back. “Damn, sexy, you okay?”

  He fake coughed some more and shook her off him. “Yeah, I’m cool, mama!”

  Ivy took her hands off him after hearing the word “mama” come from his mouth. It sent her over the edge.

  “Why, I never!” She stared at him like he had shit on his face. Calling her mama was the last straw. She was done with him.

  King had joy in her eyes because she knew her mother was upset. She didn’t appreciate her acting thirsty, and without even knowing it, Swag had said the right thing.

  Swag saw that the oyster he’d had in his mouth had landed on Blood’s head. Blood remained calm about it but reminded himself to deal with Swag later.

  “Dang, Blood, sorry about that, bro. I’m sorry, everyone, for choking on this good oyster. I’m so sorry, everyone, especially to my man, Blood.”

  Blood gritted his teeth. He didn’t accept a damn word of his apology. His hand slowly went for the chopstick, but Swag was saved by King when she held Blood’s hand and looked at him with those sweet, innocent, green eyes and a sly fox smile.

  To some men, that would’ve been a slight flirt or a let’shave-sex smile. But Blood had been around King for a long time and knew all her motives like the back of his hand. He knew she meant, “Leave him be, and I’ll make it worth your while later.” Blood loved her “I’ll-make-it-worth-your-while” sex sessions. He smiled at her and winked. King pointed to the oyster on his forehead, so he picked up a napkin to remove it.

  “Darling, the boy gave you an apology,” Madam Lourd said. “It’s proper for you to accept it.”

  Blood looked at Madam Lourd with a slight smile. Then he turned to Swag, who had a smirk on his face.

  “Yo, man, it’s cool,” Blood said. “It was a freak accident.” Blood took a sip of sake and continued to look deviously at Swag.

  King smiled at both men. She loved how they played with the fake apology. She knew deep down that they wanted to kill each other, and that thought made her moist—her bodyguard and her possible new boy toy being at odds. She took a sip of her sake and looked over at Blood, knowing she had to keep her promise to him. Shit, she was in the mood for fish tonight. Now, she was changing her order to Blood sausage.

  Chapter 14

  Hey, Brother

  In the great room where the legendary, silver-haired filmmaker was, Swag, King, and the others were also there. They were having a dessert called Cajeta De Coco (Costa Rican Coconut Fudge) and Dom Pérignon. Tyler, who hadn’t eaten anything because he was allergic to shellfish, was eating the fudge like his mouth was a black hole.

  Everyone was irritated by his actions, especially King. Tyler, however, didn’t give a damn. He was hungry and was sneaking some of the fudge in his pockets, just in case he got hungry in the middle of the night.

  Tyler looked at King as he took another bite of the fudge. She raised her brows.

  “Oh, hi, Your Majesty,” he said nervously. “Is something wrong?”

  King loved that she could put fear in so many people. “What’s your name again, honey?”

  Tyler had a mouthful of fudge. He held up his finger and chewed, then took a sip of champagne to wash it down. He cleared his throat and smiled at her.

  “I’m Tyler, ma’am.”

  King laughed. “Forget the ‘ma’am’ stuff. King or what you called me a moment ago will do just fine.” She looked down at the six pieces of fudge on his plate and back at him. “Was something wrong with your dinner?”

  Tyler shook his head. “Oh, no, King. Dinner looked delicious, but I can’t eat it because I’m allergic to seafood.”

  “Oh, baby doll, why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve had my chef make you something else.”

  Tyler and Swag were shocked at her response. They expected her to say something different.

  Tyler smiled. “Thank you, King, but I don’t want to be any trouble.”

  “Darling, you won’t be any trouble at all, because you can’t live off fudge. I don’t want you to get a sugar high or get fat, because you won’t be any good to me if you get fat. What would you like the chefs to make for you? Anything you want will be fine.”

  Tyler was trying to figure out the statement she’d made about him not being any good to her. He started to ask but decided against it.

  “I don’t know what I want to eat. I guess I’ll take anything, as long as it’s not shellfish or pork.”

  King removed the plate and waved for Cleo to come to her. They talked in Spanish before Cleo nodded and left the great room.

  “Don’t worry, Tyler. After this, there will be a delicious meal in your room waiting for you.”

  Tyler grinned. “Thanks, but what is it?”

  King laughed. “You’ll see.” She got up and stood in the center of the room. She clapped her hands again. “May I have your attention, please?”

  Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked in her direction.

  “I hope you all enjoyed your dinner and dessert. But I have a special treat for you all this evening, mainly for our special Palace guests. I’m proud to present my daughter, who will be doing a piece from Giselle. So I would like everyone to clap your hands for my child and protégé, Josephine Batiste.”

  Everyone clapped their hands as Josie paraded in front of them, looking like a beautiful angel in a white lyrical dress with white ballet slippers. Her curly hair was slicked back into a ponytail. She walked over to King, who kissed her
on the cheek.

  King sat between Blood and Midnight.

  Josie smiled at the audience. She hoped that one day she’d be in front of big audiences, not this, like in Paris where her idol performed in her prime. She even hoped for a life of nothing but dancing, music, acting, and perhaps, a little romance. Until then, she pictured her small audience as a huge, massive one. She looked at the musicians and nodded. They began to play music from French composer, Adolphe Adam’s famous ballet, Giselle. Josie closed her eyes, and from then on, she was in character. She began to dance to the sound of the music.

  Swag smiled at her. To him, Josie had bad-assed skills. It took him back to when his grandmother would take him to his sister’s recitals, and he had his headphones on, trying to listen to some music until it was all over. It amazed him how much he had taken precious moments like that for granted. Now, looking at Josie, he could watch her dance all day. She was even more graceful now than when he’d seen her earlier.

  Josie was in total eye contact with her audience. She mainly loved how Swag was looking at her moves. She didn’t know what about him made her so weak and performed even harder. She was a moth, and he was her flame. But she knew it was a deadly combination, as far as King was concerned. The last thing Josie wanted was to lose the lavish life she was living in the Palace. Shit, it beat the one bedroom that she once lived in back in Haiti. All she wanted to do was keep being in King’s good graces, and hopefully, one day, run away to Paris, France, to be like Josephine Baker.

  She made a slight leap and gracefully landed on the floor as she let the music take total control and gave it her all.

  As Swag continued to gaze at Josie, King looked at him from the corner of her eye. In her mind, she’d be damned if he ended up with her daughter. Hell, Josie, was going to be her masterpiece. King had given her everything that any child could dream of having. She’d brought her up like a little princess. Besides living in a beautiful palace, King made sure Josie had the best tutors and even paid for her to have one of the best dance instructors. She couldn’t wait until Josie turned 18 in a few weeks. She wanted to get her out of that fake-ass, Walt Disney princess mode, and teach her to be a hardhearted, street-smart diva like she was, especially if she wanted to rule her empire. She needed to keep Josie focused. The only way she could do that was to keep Swag away from her.