Page 63 of Queen of the Pole

“Somewhere in here. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you and your date. What’s your name? I didn’t catch it,” he said, putting his attention back on Deja.

“It’s Deja,” she said to him.

“Deja. That’s beautiful. I’m Wallace,” he said.

I walked away from his ass because I felt like he was trying me. Once we were a good distance away, Deja turned to me and laughed.

“Oh, your daddy is a hot ass mess,” she said, and I shook my head.

“Fuck around and get his ass beat. There go my mama over there. I knew she would be somewhere running her damn mouth,” I said, once I spotted my mom from across the room. She stood amongst five other women, and they were talking, giggling, and just chopping it up.

“The one with the slick back ponytail? Wolf, what the hell! She is beautiful! You told me she was in her fifties. She looks my age,” she gasped, not being able to believe that that was my mom.

“She is in her fifties. Don’t tell her that shit when she gets over here. She already thinks she’s 21,” I said, and Deja laughed.

Just like my pops was able to feel my presence from across the room, my mom felt it too.

In the middle of her talking with the other women, she stopped, looked over at Deja and I as if her eyes were playing tricks on her, and she clutched onto her chest. She told her girls to give her a minute, and then walked over. She wore heels that I knew were just as high as the ones that Deja had on. I could because she stood up much higher. Her dress was long, and flowy like the rest of the women. I liked to see her dripping in diamonds like this. She held so much grace to her, as she walked over, smiled at the two of us, and clasped her hands together.

“I cannot remember the last time I’ve seen a couple look this beautiful. Oh my God. I called this not too long ago. I told my son that he had a glow about him, but he left me hanging, saying that I was talking crazy. You are so beautiful. Can I give you a hug?” my mom cooed, greeting Deja the exact way that I knew she would.

That’s why I told Deja in the elevator that she didn’t have shit to be nervous about. If anyone made her feel welcomed, and special tonight, I knew my mom would cover that.

Deja let out a nervous giggle, acting like her ass was shy, as she reached in to hug my mom. They hugged for a few seconds, and then both pulled away.

“You’re so beautiful, Mrs. Bennett,” Deja finally found the words to say something.

“Thank you. You don’t have to call me Mrs. Bennett. Call me Liya. What is your name?” my mom asked.

“I’m Deja,” she said.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Deja. Come with me. Let me walk you around the room, introduce you to some faces. Son, I’m sure you have plenty of people you can walk around and talk to. I have Deja,” she said it in a way like Deja was her girl that she went way back with.

My mom was too busy with her eyes on me, so she didn’t see the look that Deja gave me. She was pleading with her eyes, wanting me to come to her aid, so she could stay stuck up under me for the rest of the night.

“Go, baby. You’re in good hands,” I said, giving her a tap on her ass, letting her know that she was cool with my mom.

The two of them walked off, and before I could even walk away, my little brother Demarco made his way over to me, all hyped, hands on my shoulders, with a goofy smile on his face.

“Nigga, so that shit is true? You really fuckin Poison?” he asked me.

“Ay man, watch that shit. She not at work. It’s no poles in this motha fucka. Call her Deja right now,” I had to check that shit, and check it fast.

As soon as I said it, Demarco laughed, while throwing his hands up, letting me know that he didn’t want any smoke with me.

“I’m fuckin with you, man. You know I didn’t mean nothing by it. That’s you though? Rumors been going around. They say you be in the club every night watching her dance,” he blurted, and I shook my head.

“I saw her dance three times. One of those times is when I went with you for your birthday. It’s no title on what we doing right now. We just vibin. Getting to know each other, and shit,” I told him, and he nodded his head.

“You going to tell Emaye, and pops that she dances? You know Emaye got a good heart, so I doubt she’ll judge her for it. Pops though? That nigga tough. You know how he is. He going to think that she’s after you for your money. If he finds out that she strips, he going to clown you for it,” he shot.

I guzzled the rest of the champagne that was in the glass, placed my hand on his shoulder, prepared to say one last thing to him before I walked away.

“Deja ain’t gotta be after me for my money. She makes her own money. She comes home from the club, and I watch her count the kind of money from on nights earnings that people make at a job in a couple of months’ worth. Oh, and lastly, a nigga that’ still cheating on his wife after thirty plus years ain’t the kind of nigga I want to be giving me relationship advice anyways,” I ended it, and walked away.

I was going to mingle a little bit, talk to a few familiar faces in the room. As I was headed to do that, I noticed Mya. Mya was Kingston’s wife. She was sitting down at one of the tables by herself. I stopped, so that I could walk over to her. The second she saw me, she perked up, allowing a smile to appear on her beautiful face. She even stood, so that she could hug me.

“Sis, what’s up? Why you sitting over her by yourself?” I asked her, once we pulled away from the hug.