“Me too. Fuck off my line,” I snapped and ended the call.
I was putting concealer underneath London’s eyes when she ended the call and snapped me back to the present. “That was one of my cast mates, Brittney. All these women do is talk about each other behind their backs, and it’s exhausting. I don’t need the money, but $50,000 per episode comes in handy for sure.”
“Oh my God. Per episode is crazy. How many episodes are they filming?”
“Ten. Thank God we only have two weeks left of filming. I wouldn’t be mad if we got to do more scenes alone, but they always want us in group settings. Some of those women are insufferable. The ones that have been cheated on swear that no WAG can be happily married because none of the men are shit. They think all of our husbands have mistresses and outside babies,” London rolled her eyes.
“I hate to be one of those women that acts like everything is about money, but women are catty, childish, and fake in real life. If you have to be subjected to it, at least you’re getting paid to do so. A lot of us have to suffer for free,” I chuckled.
“You know what? You’re right. I tried to give a portion of my first check to Isaac, so he could put it toward the mortgage, buthe refused. He doesn’t want me to pay any bills. Not even my own car payment. Therefore, the money just sits. I don’t shop that much anymore because at this point, I don’t need anything else.”
London wasn’t lying because I had seen her closet. Envy was never a characteristic that I possessed, but to get paid half a million dollars to be on a reality TV show sounded like a damn good opportunity. That led me to thinking about life as a WAG. I damn sure didn’t expect to end up on a television show with Hymn, but a girl could use her imagination.
I was a housewife basically when I was with Corey even though I didn’t have a ring. He wasn’t broke, so I lived a decent life, but to be the housewife of a football player had to be next level. Shopping all day while wearing cute yoga sets and sipping matcha. Barely having to cook or clean because we had people for that. The other side of the coin was what London had said about the WAGS she filmed with. Who better to warn a woman about dating an athlete than the women that dated them? I believed there were some good ones out there, but I didn’t believe there were too many. Maybe the older ones closer to retirement.
London’s phone rang again, and she groaned. “I’m already over today. I want people to stop calling me,” she whined and kicked her feet like a toddler.
With a chuckle, I misted her face with finishing spray to set her makeup, and she was all done.
London muted the phone and looked in the mirror. “Perfect as usual. Thank you, boo.”
“No problem.”
“Did you think about brunch yet?” she gave me her best puppy dog expression.
With a dramatic sigh, I rolled my eyes. “I’ll go with you.”
“Yayyyy, thank you.”
In the car, I wondered what the heck I was doing. Two months ago, I’d been a live in baby mama with a boring, monotonous routine, trying to get more makeup clients and now, I was flying on private jets, fucking on a football player, and getting more clients by the day. I barely recognized my own life, and I was starting to see that wasn’t such a bad thing.
Later that evening, me, Alisa, and Josie tapped our shot glasses on the table in front of us and tossed back our shots. My mommy duties had ended. The girls were tucked in bed, and I eased out of the house to have a few drinks with Alisa to celebrate her winning her case. I told her it was my treat because she’d been so good to me. My parents refused to take any money from me, and the only bills I really had were my car payment, car insurance, health insurance, and cell phone. My work checks covered those things, and most of the money I got from makeup jobs either went toward the girls or into my savings account. I was confident I’d be ready to look at places to live in the next month and a half.
“I got good news on the way here, but I was going to wait to share it because tonight is about Alisa, but I can’t help it.”
My words made Alisa recoil with a frown. “I know you fuckin’ lying. We don’t do that. You never have to wait to share an accomplishment with me. Are you dumb?” she joked mimicking Cardi B.
“Okay, okay, so a pretty popular rapper is coming to Diamond Cove Sunday for a show, and she wants me to do her makeup. Me!” I was still shocked. I went through so many steps to make sure it was actually the artist reaching out to me and not a fake page.
“I told you it was only up from here, baby,” Josie beamed. “See how blessings start pouring in when you get rid of dead weight.”
“I’m about to go order three more shots because we are for sure going to drink to that. Congratulations, baby,” Alisa hugged me.
Slowly, I was learning to navigate my new normal. Weeks ago, I was crushed. It felt like my life was over, and I wasn’t sure I possessed the strength to endure. But things were falling into place perfectly. When I saw that Hymn was facetiming me, a smile inched across my face. He was out of town. They had an away game that his team won.
“You probably won’t be able to hear me because it’s kind of loud in here,” I smiled like an idiot as the call connected.
The room Hymn was in was dark, and I could tell he was in bed. The man was so sexy it was sickening. “You out turning up, huh? You look good.”
“Thank you. Only a few shots. I’m celebrating my bestie winning a case. She’s a lawyer.”
“That’s what’s up. I just wanted to see your face before I fell asleep. Enjoy your night.”
“I will. And congratulations on your win. At this rate, y’all might make it to the Super Bowl.”
“I hope so and thank you, sexy.”
Even after the call ended, I was still cheesing. “This nigga done fell in love,” Josie teased bumping my hip with hers.
