Rub my feet together until I pass out
An anchor keptme grounded after Flocco opened the car door for me.
“You gone get out or you coming home with me?” He chuckled.
His smile was contagious.
“I’m not going home with you, sir.”
“Can a nigga at least have your number?” He asked as I stepped out and headed toward my door.
He was right behind me. I ignored his question until we reached my porch.
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight?” He tittered.
“Um hm.”
“Bet. I’ll see ya mean ass tomorrow, then. Dinner. Nine o’clock. I’ll be at this bitch with bells on.”
Laughing, I tossed my head back and unlocked my front door. He pushed it open. I stepped inside and turned to face him.
“Thank you.”
The words tumbled from my heart, not my head.
“My pleasure.”
“Goodnight, Laurence,” I sighed.
“Goodnight, Hyph.”
Passion was insane.It was week two of their grand opening, and one would believe the club had been open for a decade or more. Aside from the attention that was paid to every detail, the crowd was live with unforgettable energy.
“Okay, bitch. I’m next on the roster. You think I’m losing my mind or you think this’ll work out?”
“It’ll all work out,” I promised Saga, holding up the folded knot of ones in my hand. “We have a plan, remember.”
The money Flocco had given me would be put to great use. Saga was new on the scene. It was her first night as Siren, the midnight ballerina. Though we were both confident in her ability to turn pockets inside out, we wanted to be sure the men understood the caliber of woman on the stage and the kind of woman she had in her corner.
So, a hit to their ego was the solution. Because so many men were either intimidated or jealous of women, the idea of being shown up by one was maddening. Once Saga hit the stage, I would let the dollars fly, attracting the attention of every male in the new spot. As a result, they’d join me, determined not to allow me to toss more ones or show more love to the chocolate-coated vixen.
When the night was over, Saga would return the money I’d thrown and prepare to be showered with it again the next night. Until she developed a loyal clientele and comfort on the stage, I’d recycle the same knot.
My friend had quit her job because it wasn’t providing for her household. I’d be damned if I allowed unemployment to be the end of her independence. She was talented. She moved her body with so much seduction and grace that I, too, was mesmerized when she danced. Applying to Passion felt natural. It was the main reason she decided to apply the week of their grand opening. It was only the second week, and she was already prepared to get on stage.
“Yes,” Saga replied.
“You nervous?”
“Who?” Saga scoffed. “Baby, I was born ready.”
“That’s my girl!”
