Slick ass. He knew to add that tension part to insinuate that he was giving me a therapeutic massage and not purposely causing me to ruin my panties.
My breath hitched, and my legs began to tremble. Unable to control myself, I creamed all through my panties.
“Good girl,” he whispered with a smirk. “See, I pay attention in class.”
Paris Summers
He was late. Again.
I sat in my living room in my three-bedroom townhouse in a dress I picked out just for him. A tight, black, leave-little-to-the-imagination ensemble that said,I’m expensive but fun.The city was live tonight—music playing continuously, heavy traffic upand down the blocks, and the billboards seemed to shine a lot brighter in the night sky—but none of that soothed the tightness in my chest or distracted me enough to forget that I was pissed.
I checked the time on my Rolex and picked up my phone to see if I’d missed any calls or notifications from text messages. He was supposed to pick me up over an hour ago. Yet here I am, pacing my hardwood floors, without a call or a text to simply say,Hey, baby, I’m running late.Nigga just had me sitting here, waiting.
“He got me fucked up,” I murmured to myself.
And no, I didn’t give grace. No, there was no thought in my mind that he could probably be laid in a ditch somewhere, because I knew exactly where hisonly-eat-the-crust-of-the-pizza-head-asswas. He was with…her.
He didn’t even try to hide the shit anymore. His ass would straight up tell me not to wait up because he was taking Mahasin shopping or to an appointment, and it could be all day. I guess I couldn’t be mad at that, because Ididbust him in the head and wreck his office because I felt like he wasn’t divulging the whole truth. But still! Doctor visits? Craving runs? Baby shower planning? And Mahasin’s bougie ass had the nerve to invite me.
At first, when she popped up pregnant, I thought the little bitch was going to be a thorn in my side—messing up my lifelong plan and shit. But when Gage explained that their interaction would be only financial, and that he was solely focused on the relationship between him and his daughter, I calmed down.
My mother told me not to worry, because a rich man always had a stray baby somewhere. And that I shouldn’t letanythingcome between what I rightfully earned. And she was right. If I walked away now, all this scheming and pretending I did would be for nothing. Wasted time was way worse than wasted money.
Checking my social media pages, a memory of me on the set of this diner scene popped up. However, the only acting I wasdoing was pretending I wanted to be there. Between my fake socializing and interest in people’s stories about being starving artists, I was tempted to abandon this mission and find a new niche.
However, this one would cause me to lose a friend, Kelsey.
Kelsey and I met at a boutique where we argued over the last pair of denim-washed, rhinestone jean shorts. She swore she was in line before me—and she was—but because my antics were worse than a junkyard dog, the owner begged her to let me keep the shorts and promised her a private viewing of the new inventory next week. I smirked, wearing victory all over my face. That was until my fucking card declined.
“Run that shit again,” I demanded of the store clerk.
“Miss, that is against store policy to rerun a declined card. Please leave your items here at the counter and return another day when you have some money,” she sassed.
“Why, you little bit—”
“It’s okay, Camille. You can add her little $750 total to mine.”
“My man’s card can go for miles—all gas, no brakes,” Kelsey whispered as she snickered in my face.
To make a long story short, we bonded after that. If there was one thing I respected, it was a bitch who loved the taste of revenge.
During our short-lived friendship, Kelsey would complain about how her man wanted her to do something with her life, respect his boundaries, have morals—you know,wife materialtype shit. She would always complain about him being weird and anti-social as well.
Gage’s job gave him access to the best parties with the biggest celebrities, but if it wasn’t a good look for work, he never indulged with the masses, which ultimately meant she couldn’t either. Kelsey’s complaining ass thought I was being a shoulder to lean on when I was really taking notes—plotting.
So, when she got caught cheating and he dropped her, I made my move. She called me crying, asking me to pick her up from this coffee shop and drive her home. Which I did—and by the time she was getting out of my car to go inside, I blocked her ass from my phone and all social media accounts. I had no use for her anymore.
My new man would be sponsoring my shopping trips, and I no longer had to play the role of the broke best friend who needed to be covered.
To get on set at the film studio he frequented, I took a cross-eyed security guard down in the supply closet. A little fucking and sucking was a small price to pay for a life on easy street with Gage Blaque.
My timing was perfect. The day I was cast was the day he was at the studio supporting Desmond, the screenwriter I later learned was one of his best friends. That day was going smoothly. I showed initiative by helping around the cast, randomly straightening up props, and even giving compliments to some of the worst actresses in the world.
My antics earned me small winks and a few “good jobs” from Gage, but it wasn’t until I purposely brought up a conversation about James Baldwin’sTell Me How Long the Train’s Been Gonethat I really got his attention. I remembered Kelsey saying he was Gage's favorite author and that he could talk about his work for hours. Thank God for AI, because I would’ve thought James Baldwin was the one who told baby boomers to “Say it Loud.”
Everything was perfect until Desmond said my hair was too distracting in the video and gave me the option to either change my color or be replaced. I’m a natural-born ginger, and there was no way I was hiding my long, curly tresses. His cowardly ass didn’t even have the balls to tell me himself—he sent some little groupie-ass girl to do it.
I marched right into his office and damn near snatched his ass up. Told him he could kiss me where the sun doesn’t shine because I worked hard to be there, and I wasn’t dyeing my hair or leaving, so he better make it work.
