Pink Lips (10 page)

“Grand Marnier straight up,” she mouthed to the bartender; he nodded and melted away into the cries of a hundred other thirsty customers.

By now, Willow's eyes were adjusting to the intimate darkness, tomblike and womblike at the same time. Bright spots of neon beer signs on the wall stood out, illuminating the faces and bodies of the crowd, while others disappeared into the contrasting blackness. She pierced through the crowd to see if she recognized anyone, but her efforts were in vein.

A moment later, before her thought was even finished, her Grand Marnier slid in front of her, and the bartender was gone before she could look up to mouth the word
thanks
. She clearly understood that one spoke to a bartender with cash, not words, so she didn't take it personally. She just simply put her money down on the wood bar.

Willow took her first sip of the elegant mixture, cold and icy, slightly sweet and tangy against her full lips, which were accented by a small beauty mark. She held the drink in her mouth for only a moment and let the ice, Grand Marnier, and lime pulp wallow against her tongue. The sensation alone made her inside's tingle and she knew she would have several more before the night was up.

She felt a pair of hands on her waist, making her jump at the sensation. Turning quickly, her eyes locked with Duke's, a dope boy from around the way. There were no words that could sum up the intense wave of attraction as she looked at this man. His hands fell from Willow's hips, and her skin bristled at the touch. The small hairs on her arms rose, despite the cold air circulating the establishment.

Willow eyed Duke up and down to check if the gear matched the face. She studied his whole ensemble in less than ten seconds.
Armani
, she thought as she eyed the stitching of the button-down adorning Duke's body. She knew designers simply from the stitching.
A Girard-Perregaux watch,
Willow kept thinking as her eyes wondered,
that watch cost ten stacks.

“Let me get ten bottles of Dom,” Duke said as the bartender gave him his full attention. “Just have them sent to VIP.”

“I'll get right on that,” the bartender replied.

Duke looked at Willow with the same intentions. He looked her up and down to see where her level was. He let off a small grin as he turned around and walked away, disappearing through the crowd. Although he liked what he saw, he was on a date and she was eyeing his every move from the glass VIP room that overlooked the bar.

Willow looked up at the chocolate beauty that was looking at her with disgust. She winked at her and held her half-empty glass up in her direction. The woman rolled her eyes at her and flipped her off before moving out of view. Willow smiled as she finished the concoction, leaving nothing but ice and a straw in the oval glass.

“Bartender,” she waved him over, “let me get another one of these, and send something fruity to the dark chick upstairs in VIP that's wearing the canary yellow.”

Willow grabbed her drink as she watched a waitress go up the stairs into the VIP area. She smiled when she saw the same waitress return with the drink still on her circle carrier.

“She said she doesn't drink cheap shit.” The waitress set the drink in front of Willow.

“Well, she sure as hell wears cheap shit,” Willow thought aloud as she chugged the remainder of her drink and made her way through the crowd, leaving the fruity mixture on the bar untouched.

“Next up to the stage is Choice,” the DJ spat through the microphone
as the crowd went wild. “All y'all niggas and bitches get yo' wallets out for this sexy-ass woman. Get your dough out and tip this woman.”

Willow made her way to the enormous square stage directly in the center of the first level. She eyed all around her as the lights dimmed and a crowd rushed to the stage. She put a piece of her mane behind her ear as she eagerly waited to see what all the commotion was about.

The lights flashed on as the music boomed throughout the club making the floor vibrate. Willow focused on the silk curtain that was in between two stage mirrors. She knew that Choice, her childhood friend, would enter through the curtain. She wasn't new to the strip world; she had been to several strip clubs.

The curtain swung open as a girl with longish, brown hair that cascaded over her shoulders appeared. It contrasted with her gray-blue eyes well. Her skin was pale; not in an anemic way, but enough so that it suggested she didn't go out much. Her smile was small and shy, but it spread across all of her features, making her eyes twinkle.

The girl started dancing as her legs, bowlegged as could be, shined without a mark on them. Her small waist was complemented by the colossal-sized ass that was unbelievable for the petite frame she owned. Her breasts were firm and her soft light-brown nipples stood erect as she cavorted around the stage.

“She bad.” Willow smirked. “She would be perfect.”

Willow watched as the stage went from brown to green from all of the money that filled it. There were some big-baller-type men in the building and she'd chosen the right night to come out of hiding to make some quick cash. She heard the song that was playing getting ready to end as she made her way to the DJ booth.

“Can I help you with summin,' sweetheart?” the DJ asked, removing the headphones from one side of his face.

“Can you play a song for me?” Willow asked.

“You dancing?” he asked as claps erupted throughout the building as Choice made her way off the stage.

“Yeah.” Willow slowly unzipped the front of her Fendi dress. “Play ‘Pop That' by French Montana,” she requested as she handed him her six hundred-dollar dress.

“You didn't even tell me yo' name, ma.” He threw the dress over his shoulder.

“I'm unknown.” She smiled as she went through the doors that led to the curtain.

Dirty looks took over the faces of all the other dancers that were waiting their turn. They all looked at Willow with hateful eyes and it pumped her up.
That's right
, Willow thought to herself as she smiled at the dancers.
I'm at yo' job about to eat off yo' plate
. She laughed.

“Yo, who the fuck is that?” the girls whispered amongst themselves.

Don't stop, pop that don't stop, pop that pop that pop that don't stop,
came booming through the speakers and Willow knew it was her cue. “Don't worry, bitches,” she said as she opened the curtains, “I'll leave a few dollars in their wallets for you.”

Willow looked into the crowd and as the music grew louder, the closer she got to the pole. She wasn't nervous; she knew she looked better than every woman there. She had never stripped before, but for the money they were throwing, she was about to learn. She started with skilled precision moves using her body and the pole. She slid down it, climbed up it, hung upside down from it as she controlled the muscles in her ass cheeks.

She removed her top, revealing her breasts as money started hitting the stage nonstop. She kept up her routine as the money flowed. Playing off the fantasy, she licked her lips at countless men as she massaged her nipples. She lay on her back and folded a hundred-dollar bill in half the long way. She put the bill down on the front of her g-strip and moved her legs in a circular motion. The crowd went wild as the hundred-dollar bill flew into the air off of Willow's pussy.

“Yo, did you see that shit?” Tristan, a neighborhood hardhead, said to Duke as they watched from the VIP window. “I ain't never seen no bitch do no shit like that.”

“Me either.” Duke removed his fitted cap and rubbed down his fade. “Tristan, make sure Cocoa gets home,” he said as he headed for the door.

“Why do I have to go home?” Cocoa asked Duke, stopping him in his tracks. “I'm good right here.” She fixed the sleeve of her deep-yellow dress.

Duke ignored her as he walked through the double doors. His Armani black button-up made shadows on the wall with each step he took. His jewelry played off the strobe lights as he made his way down the metal staircase. He approached the stage to get a close-up view on the bombshell that had caught his attention for the second time that night.

“Yo,” Duke yelled at Willow, her eyes reading his lips. “Let me get at you for a moment.”

“That was Unknown,” the DJ spat with excitement through the microphone. “Yo, whoever shorty is, she need to be a regular. Now, next to the stage is Kisses.”

Willow collected all of the money on the stage before she walked over to the DJ booth to get her dress, with Duke close behind.
She eased the dress down over her body as she tossed the two large wads of cash—that had nothing but hundreds, fifties, and twenties inside—on the booth.

“Yo, Unknown, that shit was fire.” The DJ gave her a couple rubber bands for her money.

“Thank you.” She started to roll her cash. “Thanks for the song,” she said as she tossed some money to the DJ.

“So, your name is Unknown?” Duke asked from behind.

“Isn't that what the DJ just said?” Willow responded as she hid the money on her body.

“I wanted to let you know that you're too beautiful to be stripping. I think only one nigga should have the right to see yo' body.” Duke handed her a wad of money. “But, since that's your profession, I guess I'll tip.”

“You good.” Willow handed him his wad of money back. “Plus, I don't strip. I came here to find a friend and I couldn't resist making some quick cash.”

“Is that right?” he asked as he looked her up and down.

“So do you know this woman, Duke?” Evelyn asked as she walked up on them with two bouncers surrounding her.

Evelyn had to pause and look at Willow a second time as she got closer. She looked so much like Melee to her. They had the same kind of skin, the same expression, even the same chin that mimicked the bottom of a heart. She was floored at the resemblance.

“I don't know her at all, Evelyn,” Duke said.

“Well, somebody better know who the fuck she is because she just danced on my stage without permission.” Evelyn looked at Willow. “How much money did you make?”

“That's my business.” Willow started to walk off. “I didn't see your old ass up there dancing.”

“Grab her,” Evelyn told the bouncers as they dashed for Willow.

“Get the fuck back.” Willow turned around, her gun pointing at the bouncers.

“So you're a thug?” Evelyn asked with her hands on her hips as she wondered where the gun could have been hidden on the girl's body. “I don't think this is a game you want to play. Lower the gun, give me the money you made, and we will call it even. I'll even let you live.”

“No, no deal,” Willow said with a smile. “Why the fuck would I give you the money that I just made?”

“Because,” Evelyn said, smiling back, “if you don't, you're going to die where you stand; I promise you this.”

Evelyn pointed at the small red dot that was aimed at Willow's chest as a small laugh overwhelmed her. Willow lowered her gun as the bouncers grabbed her quickly, taking her gun from her. They held her arms and pressed them, getting revenge for her pointing a gun at them.

“Yo, y'all being too rough with her,” Duke said.

“See, this is why you don't play with grown-ups.” Evelyn smiled. “Take her ass to my office.”

“If this is what you call being grown, then I would consider you to be an infant.” Willow yelled out, “Where's the red dot?”

Evelyn looked at Willow's chest and the dot disappeared before her eyes. She looked up at the bodyguard from the near top of the building that she'd hired to scope out the place, and she could see his lifeless body lying face-down. Willow nodded toward her chest as a red dot was now aimed at Evelyn.

“Let her go,” Evelyn said as sweat poured from her forehead. “I said, let her fucking go,” she yelled.

“Willow?” Choice squinted her eyes. “Is that you?”

“Outside,” Willow told Choice as she grabbed her gun from the bouncer's hand.

“Choice, you have two more dances tonight.” Evelyn pointed her finger at her. “If you leave, you're done.”

“It's more money for you with me so I suggest you come on,” Willow said, walking through the crowd to exit the building.

Choice followed her through the crowd. She was tired of stripping and after lying to her man telling him that she had stopped, she figured now was the time to. She wanted to hear Willow out to see if it was legit or not. If it wasn't, she could always get her job back with Evelyn; she made her the most money.

“Yo, when did you get back to Philly?” Choice asked as the door to the club closed behind them. “Where is Kail and yo' moms? Why y'all ain't tell us y'all was coming back? We ain't heard from y'all in years.”

“Follow me.” Willow stalked down the street, her heels going in and out of the snow sticking to the ground.

Willow and Choice walked in silence as the winds from the storm cut them like a sharp knife slicing into a tomato. Although it was cold, and they had on small dresses, they kept walking, showing no signs of discomfort. They reached a black Range Rover and Willow got inside signaling for Choice to get in the back. Although Choice hadn't seen her in fourteen years, she trusted her, so she got inside.

“Look who I found,” Willow told Kail as she put her hands in front of the heat blasting from the vents.

“Choice,” Kail looked at her from the rearview mirror, “It's good to see you, girl.”

“Y'all look the fucking same from when we was kids.” Choice observed her surroundings. “So what y'all doing back in Philly?”

“About to make a whole lot of fuckin' money.” Kail turned around and looked at Choice.

“Doing what?” Choice asked.

“Doing whatever's required. Listen, we not trying to put you on to nothing that you don't want to do, but it's money to be made and we can make it together.” Willow looked back at Choice.