by Amber Monroe
I walked over to her and started tickling her because she was difficult. Alexis loved me as much as she loved Bre, she just liked to front.
“Okay. Okay. Okay.” She giggled once she saw that I wasn’t letting up.
“You missed me?” I asked.
“Yessssssss.” She screamed and laughed.
“Are you going to give me a hug and kiss?” I said, but she kept laughing. “Huh?” I asked again, this time making sure I tickled her feet.
“Yes!” She said. I slowly eased up on tickling her and let her get up. She ran into my arms, and I held onto her tight. As much as I didn’t like being home, I did miss moments like this.
“I missed you, Quel,” Alexis said as she buried her face into my stomach.
“I missed you too, ladybug,” I said. We hugged for a minute until I finally let her go.
“Where is Bre? I miss her little big head too.” I asked Alexis, and I took a seat on her bed. I noticed that all of Bre’s things were gone, and her bed had been stripped.
“Her and mama got into it. She doesn’t live here anymore.” She said as she put her head down. I can tell that she was sad about the situation. Alexis was more sensitive than all of us, so I don’t know if she was exaggerating the situation or if things were actually terrible. My mother or father never said anything, so I was clueless. I tend to get busy when I’m in school, but if mama and Bre got into it, I don’t know why no one told me.
“What happened?” I asked.
“One night, mama and Bre got into it. Bre left and hasn’t been home since.”
“When did this happen?”
“I think two or three weeks ago.”
“What?!” I said.
“Mhm. Mama doesn’t want us to talk about it, so don’t mention it. I don’t want to get into trouble or have to leave either.”
“Alexis, you’re only seven. Mommy is not going to put you out, and you’re her baby, so consider yourself lucky.”
“That’s what you think. Mommy has been mean since Bre left, Wayne and Eric try to stay out her way because she gets mad so quick. That’s why I stay in my room and just read my books.” She said as she grabbed her book, The Babysitter Club.
“Why did they get into it?”
“Ummm.” Alexis started fidgetting.
“I promise I won’t say anything.”
“Promise?” Alexis said as she put her pinky up. I wrapped my pinky around hers and sealed it with a kiss.
“Promise,” I said.
“Bre’s pregnant.” She whispered.
“Pregnant?!” I yelled. Alexis’s eyes got big and looked like she was afraid of what was about to happen. “Sorry,” I said as I rubbed her head.
“It’s okay. We were all shocked, but I was happy. I’m going to be an aunt again.” She smiled.
“I know.” I tried to smile, but I was disappointed in my little sister. What the fuck has happened since I’ve been gone? And why didn’t anyone think to inform me?
∞∞∞
“Let’s get this money, Rah,” I said to myself as I was looking into the bedroom mirror. I decided to wear a simple little black dress that complemented my natural hourglass shape. My brown chocolate skin was shimmering from my body oil, and my white pedicure and manicure were fresh from yesterday when I got it done. I paired my dress with my black Louboutins, diamond choker, and matching bracelet. I sprayed my Miss Dior perfume all over and coated my lips with a clear gloss. My black ’26 Brazilian Straight Virgin hair was going down my back and was so soft and silky. I was ready mentally and physically, but my mind was a little pre-occupied with what Alexis told me earlier. I tried to call Bre, but she never answered. I was happy that her phone was on and planned to blow her phone up after I handled my business.
After giving myself another look over, I was about to head downstairs because my driver would soon be arriving. I grabbed my silver clutch, kissed Alexis as she slept away, then closed the door behind me. I walked down and immediately saw my mother sitting on my couch with a glass of wine in her hand. She rarely drank, so I know shit had to be bad around here.
“Hey, mama,” I said as I walked over to kiss her cheek. She gave me a half-smile then took a sip from her glass.
“When did you get in?” She asked.
“Earlier. I wanted to surprise you.” I lied. I honestly didn’t want to let them know whenever I was coming because my visits were always a come and go.
“That was nice of you.” She said dryly. If this was the attitude Alexis was speaking of earlier, I wanted to hurry up and get out of dodge because I couldn’t let her ruin my night.
“Well, I’m going out for a few with a friend. I’ll try not to be out too late.”
“You might as well stay out and stay with them. There will be no more coming and going as you please. I gave you kids too much freedom to do what you want in my house. My door closes and locks at 10:00 pm.” She said, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms across her chest.
“Mama I’m almost twenty years old, I shouldn’t have a curfew. I don’t even have one at school. I understand you don’t want us coming and going, but-”
“But what? You’re grown now because you’re in college and do whatever you want down there?” She snapped. I had to keep a clear conscious and not let little shit like this throw off my focus.
“If I’m not headed back by 10, I’ll call you, so you don’t have to worry,” I said while trying to bite my tongue. I don’t know what Bre did, but whatever it was turned mama into a bitch. She was never this snappy or mean. As much as I wanted to use this time to talk to her, I had money to make, and this could wait.
“Mhm.” She said as she focused her attention on the tv and took another sip from her glass. I got a notification that my driver was outside, so I grabbed my short black faux fur coat then left out.
∞∞∞
“Can I offer you anything to drink?” Antonio asked. We were sitting on his couch in his suite at the Hamilton Hotel.
“I’m fine. You know you asked me that twice?” I smiled.
“I did? I’m sorry.”
“Don’t tell me you’re getting old man’s brain on me.” I joked.
“Hell, I probably am.
“Or, you’re just nervous?” I asked.
“That too. I am nervous.”
“Why? You’ve done this before, right?”
“I have, but never with someone so beautiful as you.”
“Really?” I laughed.
“That wasn’t supposed to sound as corny as it came out. I’m sorry, I’m not good with icebreakers.” He admitted. He was cute. I think he was the youngest client I’ve had since I started working as an escort during my senior year of high school. I was tired of struggling and never neing able to afford to buy the things I really wanted. So when the opportunity was presented, I took it, and I had just turned eighteen. Anywho, Antonio was in his early forties and didn’t even look like it. He was definitely a young Morris Chestnut even down to his perfect teeth. And he smelled so good, nothing like Old Spice and I was happy because my own father wore that cologne faithfully.
“We don’t need any icebreakers. Let’s talk until we feel comfortable around each other.” I said, looking into his eyes.
“Are your eyes gray?”
“Yes, they are and naturally. Someone on my mother’s side had them, and somehow I inherited them as well.” I said and was being honest. My parents thought something was wrong with my eyes when I was born, but Grandma Pep came in and cleared that right up. Apparently, her uncle and her firstborn, Gloria, had gray eyes.
“They give you this mystique and sultry look.”
“Thanks.” I blushed.
“So I’m taking you’re quite familiar with how this goes and everything?”
“What do you mean?”
“Being around old ass men like me who whine about being lonely and wanting companionship.” He chuckled.
“You’re not old, Antonio. You look good for your age. A
nd this is your time, we can do whatever you want to do. I don’t judge, nor do I complain. So what’s on your mind?”
“What’s on your mind? You look like something on your brain, and you’re trying to avoid it by getting me to talk about mine.” He smiled.
“I’ve been trying to mask it since I got here. I’m sorry, I’m usually more focused.”
“Well, tell me about it.”
“It’s personal.”
“Too personal to share?”
“No, but I don’t feel comfortable bringing my personal life into my-”
“Job.” Antonio completed.
“My time with you. It’s not really a job if you love what you do.”
“Do you love what you do?”
“Yes.” I lied.
“You’re too beautiful to be lying to protect my feelings.”
“I’m not lying.” I lied again.
“I work in the military. I’m trained to spot the truth and rule out lies.”
“Why can’t we just talk about you and whatever you want to share.”
“I pay a therapist $300 a week to do that with. I spend $1200-$5000 with a lady of my choice to help me forget all this shit I went over with my therapist. I like a natural conversation and unforgettable evenings, not boring-ass nights.”
“I’m boring?” I asked, offended.
“Ehhhh..” He said. I punched him in his arm, and he laughed.
“Sorry,” I said, embarrassed.
“It’s fine. I usually like to get into the kinky shit after four dates, but at the rate, this is going, this will probably be the last.” He joked.
“Really?”
“Mhm. When Charisma said she was sending the next best substitute, she definitely wasn’t describing the woman sitting in front of me. Can’t be the same woman who she described as intelligent, funny, and stunning. She had the stunning part right, but the rest is ehhh.” He said with a smile, but I knew he was serious. I was fumbling my own bag, an easy bag at that. I was too embarrassed to stay here now. I sat up from the couch and looked for my clutch.
“I’m sorry. You can call the agency and request another girl. Sorry for disappointing you, but please don’t complain about me. I need this job.” I said as I got up from the couch. I began to head towards the door, but Antonio grabbed my hand and stopped me.
“I was only joking. Do I think things can go better? Yes, but I am enjoying your company. You’re different from the girls that they usually send but in a good way. You don’t seem like you’re going off a script or secretly counting down the time we have left. You’re having a bad night, I get it, but there is still time to turn it around. Please stay.” He said. I paused, then sat back down next to him.
“I’m married. However, I’m not happy and think I’m ready for a divorce. The woman I married is not who I thought she was, and I’m not in love anymore. Hell, I don’t think I was in love as I thought I was. We were high school sweethearts and stayed together throughout college. However, she stepped out on me during a semester and got pregnant. She claimed it was a one-night stand. I was going to leave her and move on, but she asked me to raise the child with her because she feared what her parents would do since they were super religious. My dumb ass agreed to portray as the baby’s father, but her parents weren’t having that shacking up shit, so she begged me to marry her, and I thought I was doing the right thing at first.”
“What changed?” I asked.
“It never felt right. Even after twenty years of being married, my feelings never changed. We eventually had our own son years later. But only because her parents started to get suspicious that we weren’t having as many as they thought we would have after college. I don’t know how, but my wife definitely trapped my ass and got pregnant. I only say trapped because I always used protection and she was on birth control because we agreed that we were going to do this marriage shit for five years then end it. We were going to tell her folks that it didn’t work out, but I agreed to co-parent for Aaron’s sake. However, she ended up getting pregnant, and of course, I stayed.”
“Why? Why didn’t you keep your agreement and just co-parent?”
“During those times, how would it look if I was to leave my pregnant wife and five years old? Despite our situation, my folks didn’t raise me like that, so I did what I felt was right...again.”
“So, what’s making you say this is it?”
“I think she’s stepping out on me again and is up to some no-good shit. I don’t want any parts in anything she’s doing, and my kids are grown now. Aaron is twenty-two, and my baby boy Andre is turning eighteen in a couple of days.”
“Sheesh...eighteen,” I said, feeling a little uncomfortable since I was about a year older than his youngest son.
“I’m taking that you must be close to his age or older?”
“I’ll be twenty in May.” I shared, which I rarely did because most guys didn’t care. The age limit to work for the agency was at least eighteen.
“Is my age a problem for you? Am I too old for you?”
“No, you’re actually the youngest guy I’ve encountered through the agency. Your age doesn’t bother me because you still look young.”
“Wait, how old do you think forty-three should look?” He laughed.
“Old as fuck.” I joked. He laughed.
“That was funny, well, let me tell you that there is nothing old about me. And I mean nothing.” He said, then licked his lips. My lady-parts were jumping from the inside.
“That’s good to know. I brought a case of blue pills, just in case, though.” I laughed.
“Not the blue pills. I hope that I never have to take those shits, I’ll just stop using it if I ever get to that point.”
“Well, make sure you get great use out of it.”
“That’s hard. I don’t always sleep with every woman I encounter. I have to have more than physical attraction to take it that far. Can’t have my soul intertwining with everybody.”
“Same,” I said, looking at him differently now. I know you probably think that I must sleep with every client because I'm an escort, but I don’t. I pick older guys for a reason. They usually just want someone to spend time with. Just like people in the nursing home and they don’t really be on that paying for pussy.
“So, are you ready to tell me about what’s on your mind?”
“How much time do we have?” I smiled but was being serious. There is a lot on my mind that I have been holding in, and it would be nice to talk about it with someone I would probably never see again.
7. Eric
“That joint phat,” DaVon said as this little joint walked past us with her group of friends. I checked out her phatty, but it was too big, in my opinion. There is such thing as too big, and I never liked asses like that. I liked booties that were phat, but just enough to cuff and bounce.
“Shit too phat for me,” I mumbled.
“Nigga you always say that shit. Just say you don’t like black girls and go about your day.” Schooly said.
“Nigga, I’m black.”
“I can’t tell. You’re always complaining about black features.” He said.
“I said her ass what too phat. Having a phat ass is a black feature?” I laughed.
“Nah, but we all know that black women are naturally thicker than the other races. Her shit was natural, but I bet if you saw a Latina or white woman with an unnatural ass like that, you would saying something different.” He shared. We called him Schooly because he was always trying to school somebody on some shit. Most times, we laughed at him, but sometimes he could be really annoying. I’ve known him since pre-school. Hell, he was my best friend, but we could be opposites at times.
“Man, my mama, and all of the women in my family or black. Are you trying to say that I prefer women of other races over my own?”
“I’m not saying anything, just stating my observation, brother.” He said. Schooly was on that “woke” shit ever since his father introduced him to Dr.
Umar Johnson's philosophies. His ass hasn’t been the same since then.
We were currently at PG Plaza, just chilling and trying to find some shawties to chill with during the winter break. I had gotten a part-time job at Footlocker for the holidays. I’ve been spending most of my time out of the house since the whole blow-up with Bre. My mama was always snapping and complaining about something. It seemed like since Bre left, all of the peace went too. I’m not saying shit was perfect at the crib, but it feels like nothing, but tension now. So I always hung out with my friends hopping from mall to mall, doing chill shit.
“Yo,” I said as I answered my phone.
“You coming over tonight?” Chianne asked.
“Nah.” I smiled. I loved pissing her off because it added high tension to our fourplay, which is all we did.
“Why not?”
“I thought you told me to leave you alone.” I reminded her. A couple of days ago, she went off on me because she caught me commenting on a couple of females' Instagram posts while ignoring her calls. When I finally called her back, she told me to leave her alone. I was respecting her wishes, but it was hard because I was missing her.
“Don’t I always say that, though?”
“Yeah, and shit is getting old.”
“What you trying to say?”
“Shit is getting old, yo. This whole situation is.”
“What bitch got your attention?” She screamed into the phone. I had to pull the phone away from my ear for a minute.
“Are you done?”
“You know what, fuck you. Go be with whatever bitch got you feeling yourself. I don’t have to take this from you. I have niggas on my line too.”
“And you’re probably doing the same shit with them that you’re doing with me. I’m not jealous, shawty.” I said and regretted it. Chianne wasn’t like, and I knew that. Just hearing her mentioning that she was entertaining other niggas got my blood boiling.