his chair.
“Nah.”
“Well, if you don’t want the $250, then I’m sure they’ll find somebody else to take it.”
“That ain’t it,” she said, looking up. “I want to go to UCLA and I don’t want a whole bunch of niggas knowing that I strip.”
“You still talking that college shit?” Sean asked, waving his hand. “Fuck that shit. You could make way more than those college muthafuckas by dancing. What do you get after you leave college anyway? Getting some fucked-up job giving some white boy some coffee every day? Fuck that! It’s all about the scrilla, baby, and the faster you learn that shit, the faster you’ll make it.”
Keisha kept counting her money.
“But if you do want to do that college shit, think about it. How many muthafuckas are going to see Pimp magazine anyway? Go get your money and then forget about that shit,” Sean continued. “And besides, what do you think will happen—some college muthafuckas figure out that you’re dancing at our club? Do you think they’ll look on that better than if you’re in some muthafuckin’ magazine? Nigga, please. The genie’s out the bottle, so don’t worry about what you can’t worry about.”
“I’ll think about it,” Keisha whispered, putting the dollars into her purse.
“What? I couldn’t hear you,” Sean said as he stopped spinning.
“I said, I’ll think about it.”
“That ain’t good enough. Ray is coming in here tonight, and he wants to know yes or no. So you better make a decision in about five minutes, or he’s moving on to another bitch.”
“Why the fuck are you so concerned about whether I do this shoot or not? What do you get out of it?” Keisha said, curious.
“I don’t get shit out of it, but I do want to make sure that the Chi Chi Room is always providing the best women to magazines like Pimp. The men who buy Pimp want to know where they can see you. If you say you dance at the Chi Chi Room, then you make more money and we make more money. Again, I keep telling you bitches that it’s all about the money. Y’all just never learn. So, again, what’s it going to be?”
Keisha closed her purse and stared at Sean. She didn’t trust his ass as far as she could throw him, but that was neither here nor there. She needed money, and he was right.
“Tell him that I’ll do it,” Keisha said, putting on her pants and blouse. “But this is a one-time thing. No more, no less.”
“Tell him yourself,” Sean said, pointing to the door, where Ray was standing. “Trying to catch a look, nigga?”
“I already paid for my looks,” Ray said, walking into the dressing room. “So, Keisha, are you ready to shoot for Pimp?”
“Yeah,” Keisha said, getting ready to leave. “I’m ready to shoot.”
Ray smiled.
“Good,” he said. “Look, meet us at the Vision Theater on Saturday at nine A.M. Don’t be late, because Steven hates models who are late.”
“Who’s Steven?” Keisha asked.
“Steven is the man who can take you beyond this club,” he responded with a laugh.
“Hey, nigga,” Sean said, “don’t try to take my bitches.”
“Simmer down, baby. I’m just making a joke. Damn, a nigga can’t even kid around anymore.”
“Whatever, you two. I’ll see you at nine,” Keisha said, opening the door to leave. “Just have my money ready.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll have your money.”
Chapter 5
The sufferings that fate inflicts on us should be borne with patience, what enemies inflict with manly courage.
—Thucydides
Veronica was pissed, and Andre had no idea why.
“Andre! Andre!” she screamed. She was stomping up and down in the house. “Andre! Bring your black ass in here.”
Andre slowly got off the couch and began making his way to the back of the house. Veronica was in Keisha’s room.
“Where the hell does Keisha keep her money?” Veronica asked, rifling through Keisha’s room. She went through drawers and was throwing clothes on the floor.
“Momma, what are you doing?” Andre asked, slightly appalled. He was high, but not that high. “Keisha is going to be pissed.”
“You think I really give a shit? Where the fuck is her money?” Veronica asked again, turning toward Andre. “I know the bitch doesn’t have a bank account, so it has to be in here somewhere.”
Veronica walked into Keisha’s closet, continuing to look for Keisha’s money.
“What do you need her money for?”
“I just need it,” Veronica said. “Robert’s back in town and he needs it.”
Robert was Veronica’s sometime boyfriend who tended to be either on the run or in jail. He was always into a little bit of everything, but nothing good. Andre couldn’t stand him being around, and Keisha refused to even acknowledge his presence. To her, he didn’t deserve to be in her father’s home, no matter if her father was not there.
Andre sat down on the bed. Veronica had taken the sheets and had thrown them against the wall.
“Momma, come on,” Andre said. “Don’t take her money, especially for Robert. Your boyfriend should get his own money.”
“Muthafucka, you don’t tell me what to do. Now get off your ass and find that money.”
“Come on, Momma,” Andre pleaded. “Robert hasn’t been around for six months.”
“Find that fucking money, Andre, or you’re gonna find your ass out on the street.”
Andre reluctantly began looking for the money. She kept looking in the closet, while Andre looked down and noticed a shoebox at the foot of the bed and pulled it out.
“I think I found it,” he said, with a low whisper.
Veronica came rushing out of the closet and walked over to Andre. She took the shoebox away from Andre and opened it.
“Shit,” she said, looking at Andre. She started pulling out dollar bills, and they began falling down on the bed. “That bitch must have over a thousand dollars in here. She’s got a thousand goddamn dollars in here and she’s bitchin’ over buying me cigarettes? Nigga, please.”
Veronica gathered the money and put it in her pockets.
“She didn’t need it anyway.”
“What does Robert need the money for?” Andre asked.
“Robert has to pay back a debt,” she said, walking out of Keisha’s room. Andre followed her into the living room, where Veronica now was putting on her coat. “And what does she need the money for anyway? She don’t pay rent. She don’t pay for groceries. And she sure as hell doesn’t give any to you or me. So fuck it, she’s just paying back rent.”
Veronica opened the door to go.
“What should I say to Keisha when she gets home?” Andre asked. “She’s gonna be pissed off.”
Veronica looked back at Andre. “I don’t give a fuck what you tell her. I took the money and I ain’t givin’ it back. So she’ll just have to deal with it. I’ll be back tomorrow. Here’s fifty dollars. Go buy your girlfriend something.”
Veronica threw a wad of money at Andre and then left. Andre sat down on the couch again and pulled out a joint. He lit the joint and looked at his watch.